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JOHNSONIAN    MISCELLANIES 


G.  BIRKBECK  HILL 


VOL.  I. 


Bonbon 

HENRY  FROWDE,  M.A. 


OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS  WAREHOUSE 
AMEN  CORNER,  E.G. 


JOHNSONIAN 

••*' ~ r  D  r 

M ISC  ELL  A  NIES I SI 


ARRANGED   AND   EDITED 


UY 


GEORGE    BIRKBECK    HILL,    D.C.L.,   LL.D, 

HONORARY  FELLOW  OF  PEMBROKE  COLLEGE,  OXFORD 

EDITOR  OF  'BOSWELL'S  LIFE  OF  JOHNSON' 
AND  OF  '  THE  LETTERS  OF  SAMUEL  JOHNSON  ' 


IN    TWO   VOLUMES 
VOL.    I 


OXFORD 
AT    THE    CLARENDON    PRESS 

MDCCCXCVII 


PRINTED  AT  THE  CLARENDON    PRESS 

BY  HORACE   HART,   M.A. 
PRINTER  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY 


352.3 

* 

.  I 


coy 


.a 


TO 

THE    REVEREND 

BARTHOLOMEW     PRICE 
D.D.,    F.R.S.,    F.R.A.S. 

CANON    OF   GLOUCESTER 

MASTER    OF    PEMBROKE    COLLEGE,    OXFORD 
SEDLEIAN    PROFESSOR    OF    NATURAL    PHILOSOPHY 

IN    COMMEMORATION    OF    HIS    LONG   AND    HONOURABLE    CONNEXION 

WITH    THAT    'LITTLE    COLLEGE'   WHICH   JOHNSON    LOVED 

THIS    WORK    IS    DEDICATED 


PREFACE 


IN  the  Preface  to  the  Letters  of  Samuel  Johnson  I  spoke  of 
the  hope  I  entertained  that  I  should  live  to  complete  the  main 
work  of  my  life  as  a  scholar  by  a  new  edition  of  the  Lives 
of  the  Poets.  I  have  been  turned  away  from  my  purpose,  at 
least  for  a  time,  by  a  letter  which  I  received  from  Mr.  Leslie 
Stephen.  He  asked  me  to  edit  all  those  writings  which  have 
long  been  included  under  the  general  title  of  Johnsoniana. 
The  task  that  he  proposed  seemed  pleasant  in  itself.  Even 
had  it  been  irksome,  I  should  have  hesitated  much  before 
I  declined  such  a  request,  coming  as  it  did  from  a  man  to 
whom  every  student  of  the  literature,  biography,  and  history 
of  our  country  is  so  deeply  indebted.  It  gratified  me  greatly 
to  know  that  my  labours  had  been  of  real  service  to  the  first 
editor  of  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 

These  two  volumes  of  Johnsonian  Miscellanies  would  have 
been  ready  for  publication  three  years  earlier  had  I  not  been 
delayed  by  illness,  and  by  the  necessity  I  have  been  under 
of  passing  all  my  winters  abroad.  On  the  banks  of  the  Lake  of 
Geneva,  or  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  an  editor,  how 
ever  much  he  may  be  supported  by  the  climate,  has  to  struggle 
against  difficulties  which  might  almost  overwhelm  him.  Many 

a  day 


viii  Preface. 

a  day  he  '  casts  a  long  look '  towards  the  Bodleian  and  the  British 
Museum.  Many  a  day  he  thinks  with  idle  regret  of  his  own 
study,  where  he  is  surrounded  by  those  books  to  which  he  has 
often  to  refer.  The  cost  of  carriage  and  the  time  lost  in 
transport  hinder  him  from  taking  backwards  and  forwards 
more  than  a  few  of  the  most  needful  works.  Last  year  I  sent 
off  from  London  a  box  of  books  to  Alassio,  on  the  Italian 
Riviera,  three  weeks  before  I  myself  started  for  that  pleasant 
little  town.  It  was  not  till  full  five  weeks  after  my  arrival  that 
they  reached  me.  Fifty-nine  days  had  they  spent  in  traversing 
little  more  than  a  thousand  miles.  They  had  advanced  at  the 
rate  of  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  an  hour.  Towards  Clarens, 
on  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  where  I  passed  three  winters,  they 
used  to  creep  at  a  somewhat  faster  pace,  for  in  every  four- 
and-twenty  hours  they  moved  at  least  five-and-twenty  miles. 
It  is  scarcely  likely  that  Gibbon,  when  he  transported  his  great 
library  to  Lausanne,  had  his  patience  as  sorely  tried  as  mine. 
The  Kentish  carrier,  who,  leaving  Rochester  betimes,  delivered 
that  same  day  a  gammon  of  bacon  and  two  razes  of  ginger 
as  far  as  Charing  Cross,  was  certainly  more  expeditious. 

Had  I  been  in  England  while  the  book  was  passing  through 
the  press  the  disadvantages  which  arose  from  my  earlier  absence 
would  have  been  greatly  lessened.  It  has  so  happened  that  of 
the  eleven  months  during  which  it  has  been  in  the  printer's  hands 
I  have  spent  nearly  ten  abroad.  In  the  six  volumes  of  the 
Life,  and  in  the  two  volumes  of  the  Letters,  there  is  scarcely 
a  quotation  or  a  reference  in  my  notes  which  I  did  not  verify 
in  the  proof  by  a  comparison  with  the  original  authority. 
I  never  trusted  my  own  copy.  The  labour  was  great,  but  it 
was  not  more  than  a  man  should  be  ready  to  undergo  who 

ventures 


Preface.  ix 


ventures  to  edit  an  English  classic.  Tillemont's  accuracy  may, 
as  Gibbon  says,  be  inimitable ;  but  none  the  less,  inspired  by 
the  praise  which  our  great  historian  bestows  on  mere  accuracy, 
a  scholar  should  never  lose  the  hope  of  imitation. 

In  such  a  variety  of  material  as  is  comprised  in  these  two 
volumes,  where  much  the  same  ground  is  frequently  travelled 
over  by  different  writers,  I  have  found  it  difficult  to  exclude 
idle  repetitions.  Wherever  there  are  two  original  authorities  for 
the  same  anecdote,  repetition  may  not  only  be  justifiable,  but 
even  necessary.  In  many  cases,  however,  one  writer  borrows 
from  another  without  owning  the  obligation.  William  Seward, 
for  instance,  who  knew  Johnson  well,  from  whose  Anecdotes  of 
Distinguished  Persons  and  Biographiana  I  have  quoted,  had 
taken  not  a  few  passages  from  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Anecdotes  without 
the  change  of  a  single  word.  Some  of  these  thefts  I  only 
discovered  in  correcting  the  proof-sheets.  It  might  be  thought 
that  plagiarism  such  as  this  would  be  easily  detected  by  one 
who  was  so  familiar  with  the  subject.  It  was  this  very 
familiarity  which  made  detection  difficult.  Every  anecdote 
I  had  long  known  so  well  that  frequently  I  could  not  be 
sure  whether  I  was  not  for  the  second  time  including  in  my 
selection  what  had  been  included  before. 

The  imperfections  of  such  a  piece  of  work  as  this  are  often 
more  clearly  seen  by  the  editor  than  even  by  the  most  sharp- 
sighted  reviewer.  They  are  discovered  too  late  for  correction, 
but  not  for  criticism.  Were  the  whole  book  in  type  at  the 
same  time,  and  were  the  cost  of  correction  of  no  moment,  what 
improvements  could  be  made!  I  have  never  yet  finished  an 
index  without  wishing  that  by  the  help  of  it  I  could  at  once 
re-edit  my  own  editing. 

I  had 


Preface. 


I  had  at  first  thought  of  giving  extracts  from  Madame 
D'Arblay's  Diary.  Reflection  soon  convinced  me  that  it  is 
too  good  a  piece  of  work  to  be  hacked  in  pieces.  He  who 
wishes  to  see  Johnson's  'fun,  and  comical  humour,  and  love 
of  nonsense,  of  which,'  she  says,  'he  had  about  him  more 
than  almost  anybody  she  ever  saw ' ;  he  who  would  know 
'Gay  Sam,  agreeable  Sam,  pleasant  Sam/  must  turn  to  her 
pages.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  her  Diary  has  never  had 
a  competent  editor.  In  its  present  form  it  is  not  altogether 
as  she  originally  wrote  it,  or  even  as  she  left  it  on  her  death. 
Some  of  the  alterations,  made  partly  by  herself,  partly  by  her 
niece,  were  unwarrantable.  By  the  help  of  the  manuscript, 
which  is  still  in  existence,  though  not,  I  believe,  in  a  perfect 
condition,  the  original  entries  could  in  most  cases  be  restored. 
Miss  Seward's  Letters  I  have  passed  over  for  a  different  reason  : 
they  are  untrustworthy. 

In  the  Dicta  Philosophi  at  the  end  of  the  book,  I  have  given 
a  second  concordance  of  Johnson's  sayings.  Neither  in  extent 
nor  in  quality  is  this  collection  quite  equal  to  the  first,  which 
was  gathered  from  the  Life  and  The  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the 
Hebrides.  '  Boswell's  long  head,'  as  Mrs.  Thrale  said, '  was  equal 
to  short-hand.'  In  his  tablets  the  point  of  his  master's  wit  was 
not  blunted,  and  the  strength  of  his  wisdom  was  not  weakened. 
'  It  is  not  every  man  that  can  carry  a  bon  mot.'  Johnson,  if 
I  am  not  mistaken,  in  the  frequency  with  which  he  is  quoted, 
comes  next  to  the  Bible  and  Shakespeare.  By  the  help  of  my 
concordances  he  should  suffer  much  less  than  formerly  from 
inaccuracy  of  quotation. 

In  these  two  volumes  I  am  able  to  make  some  additions  to 
Johnsonian  lore.     By  collating  the  text  of  Prayers  and  Medita 
tions 


Preface.  xi 


tions  with  the  original  manuscript  preserved  in  the  library  of 
Pembroke  College,  Oxford,  I  have  made  some  corrections  in 
the  text,  and  supplied  some  omissions.  On  one  entry  which 
had  been  suppressed  I  wish  light  could  be  thrown.  Who  was 
'  dying  Jenny '  for  whose  spiritual  comfort  Johnson  provided  x  ? 
Was  she  some  poor  outcast,  like  the  wretched  woman  he  carried 
home  and  nursed  there  for  thirteen  weeks 2  ? 

An  interesting  collection  of  manuscripts  which  had  once 
belonged  to  Miss  Reynolds  I  am  allowed  to  use  by  the  kindness 
of  Lady  Colomb,  of  Dronquinna,  Kenmare,  a  descendant  of 
Sir  Joshua's  sister,  Mary.  Most  of  them  are  given  in  Croker's 
edition,  but  not  all.  I  have  revised  his  version,  and  have 
supplied  omissions,  and  corrected  the  text  where  it  was  faulty 3. 
Some  letters  which  he  had  not  seen  or  had  passed  over  are  now 
printed  for  the  first  time4,  as  well  as  the  corrections  which 
Johnson  made  in  'Kenny's'  verses  when  he  'mended  some  bad 
rhymes 5.' 

To  my  friend,  Mr.  Robert  B.  Adam,  of  Buffalo,  whose 
Johnsonian  collection  far  surpasses  any  we  have  on  this  side 
of  the  Atlantic,  I  am  greatly  indebted  for  the  liberality  with 
which  he  has  placed  all  his  treasures  at  my  service.  I  wish 
every  collector  of  autographs  were  like  him,  free  from  that 
petty  selfishness  which  makes  a  man  hug  some  famous  author's 
letter  as  a  miser  hugs  his  gold,  rejoicing  in  it  all  the  more  as  he 
keeps  it  entirely  to  himself. 

My  kinsman,  Mr.  Horatio  Percy  Symonds,  of  Beaumont 
Street,  Oxford,  has  allowed  me  to  make  use  of  the  curious 
manuscript  notes  on  the  margin  of  a  copy  of  the  first  edition 

1  Vol.  i.  p.  124.  2  Vol.  ii.  p.  1 68. 

3  See  vol.  ii.  p.  449,  n.  3,  for  the  correction  of  some  curious  blunders. 

4  Vol.  ii.  pp.  455-460.  5  Vol.  ii.  p.  279,  n.  4. 

Of 


Xll 


Preface. 


of  the  Life,  which  his  father,  a  Johnsonian  collector,  purchased 
many  years  ago.  They  were  written,  I  have  no  doubt,  by  the 
Rev.  John  Hussey,  'who,'  as  Boswell  tells  us,  'had  long  been 
in  habits  of  intimacy  with  Johnson  V 

Messrs.  J.  Pearson  &  Co.,  of  5  Pall  Mall  Place,  London, 
I  have  to  thank  for  permission  to  print  some  hitherto  unpublished 
letters  of  Johnson  which  were  in  their  possession. 

To  Mr.  John  Murray,  of  Albemarle  Street,  the  publisher  of 
The  Life  of  Reynolds  by  C.  R.  Leslie  and  Tom  Taylor,  I  am 
indebted  for  permission  to  reprint  an  interesting  paper  by  Sir 
Joshua  on  Johnson's  character. 

Mr.  G.  K.  Fortescue,  of  the  British  Museum,  has  once  more 
greatly  lessened  my  labours  by  the  assistance  he  has  so  kindly 
given  me  when  I  have  been  working  in  the  Library.  His  friends 
rejoice  in  his  well-earned  promotion,  much  as  they  must  miss 
him  in  his  old  place  in  the  Reading  Room. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  express  the  hope  that  the  kind 
welcome  which  was  given  by  scholars  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic  to  my  editions  of  the  Life  and  Letters  will  be  extended 
also  to  these  two  volumes. 

G.  B.  H. 


VILLA  VENUSTA,  ALASSIO, 
February  7,  1897. 


1  Life,  vol.  iii.  p.  369. 


TABLE    OF  CONTENTS 


VOLUME    I 


PAGE 


Prayers  and  Meditations,  composed  by  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.  .        .  i 

Annals :  An  Account  of  the  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  from  his  Birth 

to  his  Eleventh  Year,  written  by  himself 125 

Anecdotes  of  the  late  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.,  during  the  Last  Twenty 

Years  of  his  Life,  by  Hesther  Lynch  Piozzi 141 

An  Essay  on  the  Life  and  Genius  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.,  by  Arthur 

Murphy 353 

VOLUME   II 

Apophthegms,  &c.,  from  Hawkins's  Edition  of  Johnson's  Works  .        .  I 
Extracts  from  James  Boswell's  Letters  to  Edmond  Malone    .        .        .21 

Anecdotes  from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Campbell's  Diary  of  a  Visit  to 

England  in  1775 39 

Anecdotes  from  Pennington's  Memoirs  of  Mrs.  Carter  ....  58 

Anecdotes  from  Joseph  Cradock's  Memoirs 61 

Anecdotes  from  Richard  Cumberland's  Memoirs 72 

Extracts  from  Sir  John  Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson         ....  79 

Anecdotes  from  Miss  Hawkins's  Memoirs 139 

Narrative  by  John  Hoole  of  Johnson's  end 145 

Anecdotes  from  the  Life  of  Johnson  published  by  Kearsley    .        .        .161 

Anecdotes  by  Lady  Knight 171 

Anecdotes  from  Hannah  More's  Memoirs       .        .        .        .        .        .177 

Anecdotes  by  Bishop  Percy 208 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  on  Johnson's  Character 219 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  on  Johnson's  Influence 229 


xiv  Contents. 


PAGE 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  Two  Dialogues  in  Imitation  of  Johnson  s  Style  of 
Conversation — 

Dialogue  I 232 

Dialogue  II 237 

Recollections  of  Dr.  Johnson  by  Miss  Reynolds 250 

Anecdotes  by  William  Seward 301 

Anecdotes  by  George  Steevens 312 

Anecdotes  from  the  Rev.  Percival  Stockdale's  Memoirs         .        .        .  330 

A  Biographical  Sketch  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  by  Thomas  Tyers  .        .  335 

Narrative  of  the  Last  Week  of  Dr.  Johnson's  Life  by  the  Right  Hon. 

William  Windham 382 

MINOR  ANECDOTES— 

By  Robert  Barclay 389 

By  H.  D.  Best 390 

By  Sir  Brooke  Boothby    .        .        . 391 

By  the  Rev.  W.  Cole 392 

By  William  Cooke 393 

From  the  European  Magazine 394 

By  Richard  Green 397 

By  T.  Green 399 

By  Ozias  Humphry  .                 400 

By  Dr.  Lettsom 402 

From  Croker's  Edition  of  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson        .        .        .  403 

By  Dr.  John  Moore 408 

By  John  Nichols 409 

By  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parker 4!3 

By  William  Weller  Pepys 4l6 

By  the  Rev.  Hastings  Robinson 4I7 

By  Mrs.  Rose 4ig 

From  Shaw's  History  of  Staffordshire 422 

Adam  Smith  on  Dr.  Johnson 423 

Dugald  Stewart  on  Boswell's  Anecdotes 425 

From  Gilbert  Stuart's  History  of  the  Rise  of  the  Arts  of  Design  in 

the  United  States 42- 

By  the  Rev.  Richard  Warner  ....  426 

By  Mr.  Wickins .'.'.'  427 

Styan  Thirlby,  by  Dr.  Johnson '.        '.  430 


Contents.  xv 


LETTERS  OF  DR.  JOHNSON— 

To  Samuel  Richardson .        -435 

To  Samuel  Richardson 436 

To  Samuel  Richardson 438 

To  Dr.  George  Hay 439 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Percy 440 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Percy 441 

To  the  Rev.  Edward  Lye 441 

To  William  Strahan 442 

To  James  Macpherson 446 

To 447 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Taylor 447 

To  Miss  Reynolds 448 

To  Miss  Reynolds 449 

To  Miss  Reynolds 450 

To  Miss  Porter 450 

To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Allen 45 1 

To  Miss  Thrale 451 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Taylor 452 

To  the  Rev.  James  Compton 453 

To  Miss  Reynolds 453 

To  Francesco  Sastres 454 

To  Griffith  Jones 454 

To  Miss  Reynolds  (enclosing  a  letter  to  be  sent  in  her  name  to 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds) 455 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  to  Miss  Reynolds 456 

James  Boswell  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 457 

James  Boswell  to  Lord  Thurlow 459 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  to  James  Boswell 460 

Dr.  Adams  to  Dr.  Scott 460 

ADDENDA 463 

INDEX 469 

DICTA  PHILOSOPHI 511 


PRAYERS  AND   MEDITATIONS 


[Composed  by  SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL.D.,  and  published 
from  his  manuscripts  by  GEORGE  STRAHAN,  D.D.,  Pre 
bendary  of  Rochester,  and  Vicar  of  Islington  in  Middlesex. 
The  fifth  edition.  LONDON:  printed  for  T.  CADELL,  and 
W.  DAVIES,  in  the  Strand.  1817.] 


VOL.  I. 


PRAYERS    AND  MEDITATIONS 


[THE  title  of  Prayers  and  Meditations  was  not  sufficiently 
comprehensive  to  describe  this  work,  including  as  it  did  long 
passages  from  Johnson's  journal.  Many  of  his  papers,  which 
in  no  respect  differ  from  those  printed  in  this  collection,  fell 
into  other  hands  than  those  of  the  editor.  Some  of  these  were 
printed  by  Hawkins  and  Boswell ;  others  have  appeared  from 
time  to  time  in  various  publications.  One  or  two,  which  had 
remained  hidden  in  the  cabinets  of  collectors,  see  the  light  for 
the  first  time  in  the  present  volumes. 

I  have  collated  Strahan's  edition  with  the  original  manuscripts 
preserved  in  the  Library  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford.  John 
son's  spelling  I  have  carefully  preserved,  and  some  passages 
which  had  been  struck  out,  but  not  obliterated,  I  have  restored. 
There  are,  however,  many  lines  so  thoroughly  scored  out  that 
not  a  single  word  can  be  deciphered.  This,  it  can  scarcely  be 
doubted,  was  done  by  Johnson  himself. 

That  he  should  have  wished  his  friend  to  publish  all  that 
is  included  in  these  Prayers  and  Meditations  almost  passes 
belief.  Most  likely,  when  in  the  weakness  of  his  last  days 
he  placed  these  papers  in  his  hands,  he  forgot  how  much  they 
contained  that  was  meant  for  no  eye  but  his  own.  Nevertheless 
his  character  gains  much  more  than  it  loses  by  this  full  pub 
lication.  If  we  are  grieved  by  the  pettiness  of  the  records 
about  the  milk  that  he  did,  or  did  not  put  into  his  tea  on 
Good  Friday,  on  the  other  hand,  our  reverence  for  him  is 
increased  by  the  tenderness  of  heart  and  the  humility  which 
are  seen  in  so  many  passages,  and  by  the  patience  and  courage 
with  which  he  bore  his  grievous  illnesses.] 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION  IN  1785. 

THESE  Posthumous  Devotions  of  Dr.  Johnson  will  be,  no 
doubt,  welcomed  by  the  Public,  with  a  distinction  similar  to 
that  which  has  been  already  paid  to  his  other  Works. 

During  many  years  of  his  life,  he  statedly  observed  certain 
days1  with  a  religious  solemnity  ;  on  which,  and  other  occasions, 
it  was  his  custom  to  compose  suitable  Prayers  and  Meditations ; 
committing  them  to  writing  for  his  own  use,  and,  as  he  assured 
me,  without  any  view  to  their  publication.  But  being  last 
summer  on  a  visit  to  Oxford  to  the  Reverend  Dr.  Adams2, 
and  that  Gentleman  urging  him  repeatedly  to  engage  in  some 
work  of  this  kind,  he  then  first  conceived  a  design  to  revise 
these  pious  effusions,  and  bequeath  them,  with  enlargements, 
to  the  use  and  benefit  of  others. 

Infirmities,  however,  now  growing  fast  upon  him,  he  at  length 
changed  this  design,  and  determined  to  give  the  Manuscripts, 
without  revision,  in  charge  to  me,  as  I  had  long  shared  his 
intimacy,  and  was  at  this  time  his  daily  attendant.  Accordingly, 
one  morning,  on  my  visiting  him  by  desire  at  an  early  hour, 
he  put  these  Papers  into  my  hands,  with  instructions  for  com 
mitting  them  to  the  Press,  and  with  a  promise  to  prepare 
a  sketch  of  his  own  life  to  accompany  them.  But  the  performance 
of  this  promise  also  was  prevented,  partly  by  his  hasty  de 
struction  of  some  private  memoirs,  which  he  afterwards  lamented, 
and  partly  by  that  incurable  sickness,  which  soon  ended  in  his 
dissolution. 

That  the  authenticity  of  this  Work  may  never  be  called  in 
question,  the  original  manuscript  will  be  deposited  in  the  library 
of  Pembroke  College  in  Oxford 

GEORGE  STRAHAN. 
ISLINGTON, 
August  6,  1785. 

1  Viz.,  New  Year's  Day;    March      Friday;     Easter    Day;     and     Sep- 
28,  the  day  on  which  his  wife,  Mrs.      tember  the  iSth,  his  own  birthday. 
Elizabeth     Johnson,     died  ;     Good          *  Life,  iv.  293. 


PRAYERS   AND    MEDITATIONS 


i. 

Oct.  1729.  Desidiae  valedixi ;  syrenis  istius  cantibus  surdam 
posthac  aurem  obversurus  r. 

2. 

1729,  Dec.     S.  J.  Oxonio  rediit 2. 

3. 

1732,  Julii  15.  Undecim  aureos  deposui,  quo  die  quicquid 
ante  matris  funus  (quod  serum  sit  precor)  de  paternis  bonis 
sperari  licet,  viginti  scilicet  libras,  accepi.  Usque  adeo  mihi 
fortuna  fingenda  est.  Interea,  ne  paupertate  vires  animi  lan- 
guescant,  nee  in  flagitia  egestas  abigat,  cavendum  3. 

*Z*/>,i.74.    'I  bid  fare  well  to  Sloth,  hart's  Scott,  ed.  1839,  viii.  275,382. 

being    resolved    henceforth    not    to  ' "  Leisure    and    I,"    said    Wesley, 

listen  to  her  syren  strains.'     '  Vitanda  "  have  taken  leave  of  one  another."  ' 

est  improba  Siren  Desidia.'  HORACE,  Southey's  Wesley,  ed.  1846,  ii.  383. 
2  Satires,  iii.  14.     Sir  Walter  Scott,         2  Hawkins's  Johnson,  p.  16.     For 

early  in  his  struggles  with  his  load  of  Johnson's  departure  from  Oxford,  see 

debt,  has  this  saying  of  Johnson's  in  Life,  i.  78,  n.  2. 
mind.     On   March  2,   1826,   he   re-        3  Life,  i.  80.     'I  layed  by  eleven 

cords  : — '  I  would  have  given  some-  guineas  on  this  day,  when  I  received 

thing  to  have  lain  still  this  morning  twenty  pounds,  being  all  that  I  have 

and  made  up   for  lost   time.      But  reason  to  hope  for  out  of  my  father's 

desidiae  valedixi ' ;  and  on  July  17: —  effects,  previous  to  the  death  of  my 

'  Desidiae  tandem  x  valedixi.'     Lock-  mother  ;  an  event  which  I  pray  GOD 

1  In  the  Journal  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  ed.  1891,  p.  228,  not  tandem  but  longutn. 
Lockhart,  I  have  observed,  not  unfrequently  tacitly  corrected  Scott,  especially  in  his 
misuse  of  will  for  shall. 

Julii 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


Julii  1 6  [?  1732]-     Bosvortiam  pedes  petii r. 

5. 

Friday,  August  27  [1734],  i°  at  night.  This  day  I  have  trifled 
away,  except  that  I  have  attended  the  school  in  the  morning. 
I  read  to-night  in  Rogers's  sermons.  To-night  I  began  the 
breakfast  law  (sic)  anew2. 

6. 

Sept.  7,  1736 3.  I  have  this  day  entered  upon  my  a8th 
year.  Mayest  thou,  O  God,  enable  me  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake 


may  be  very  remote.  I  now  therefore 
see  that  I  must  make  my  own  fortune. 
Meanwhile,  let  me  take  care  that  the 
powers  of  my  mind  may  not  be  debili 
tated  by  poverty,  and  that  indigence 
do  not  force  me  into  any  criminal  act.' 
Ib.  Johnson  left  his  father's  free 
hold  house  in  the  possession  of  his 
mother  till  her  death  in  1759.  Letters, 
i.  19,  n.  i,  82.  He  had  been  driven 
from  Oxford  by  his  poverty ;  no  public 
maintenance  had  been  provided  there 
for  the  poor  scholar,  though  '  he  had 
gained  great  applause '  by  his  Latin 
version  of  Pope's  Messiah.  Two 
years  after  he  entered  upon  his  in 
heritance  of  twenty  pounds,  twenty 
thousand  pounds  of  public  money 
were  spent  on  the  voyage  of  the 
Princess  Royal  to  the  Hague.  Lord 
Hervey's  Memoirs,  i.  437. 

1  Life,  i.  84.  Johnson  went  on  foot 
to  Market-Bosworth  to  fill  the  office 
of  usher  in  the  school  of  that  town. 
Jonathan  Boucher,  who  became  usher 
in  St.  Bees' School  in  1756,  writes: — 
'  My  salary  from  the  head-master  was 
^10  a  year  ;  and  entrances  and  cock- 
pennies  amounted  to  as  much  more. 
The  second  year  I  got  nearly  .£30.' 
Letters  of  Radcliffe  and  James,  Pre 
face,  p.  vii.  'The  cock-penny  was 
a  customary  payment  at  Shrovetide, 


formerly  made  to  the  schoolmaster  in 
certain  schools  in  the  north  of  Eng 
land.  Originally  applied  to  defray 
the  expense  of  cock-fighting  or  cock- 
throwing.'  New  Eng.  Diet.  ii.  576. 
W.  B.  Scott,  who  was  born  in  1811, 
describing  his  childhood  near  Edin 
burgh,  says  : — '  Our  uncle  still  pos 
sessed  the  Bible  his  game-cock  had 
won  at  the  breaking-up  time  on  the 
floor  of  the  school.'  Life  of  W.  B. 
Scott,  1892,  i.  30. 

2  Hawkins's /tf^wz,  p.  163.  John 
son  stayed  only  a   few   months   at 
Market-Bosworth.     In  1734  he  was 
again  living  in  Lichfield.     Rogers's 
sermons  were  probably  Sermons  at 
Boyle's  Lectures,  1727,  by  the  Rev. 
John  Rogers,  D.D. 

3  He  was   born  on   Sept.  7,  Old 
Style— Sept.    18,  New   Style.      The 
New  Style  was  introduced  on  Sept. 
3,  1752,  which  day  was  called   the 
1 4th.     Unless  that  year  he  advanced 
his  birthday  and  kept  it  on  the  i8th 
he  did  not  observe  the  anniversary. 
With  his  dislike  of  keeping  the  day, 
he  was  perhaps  glad  to  have  it  for 
once  disappear.      On   Jan.    I,    1753, 
he  notes  down  that  he  shall  for  the 
future    use  the   New   Style.      Post, 
P.  13- 


to 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


to  spend  this  in  such  a  manner  that  I  may  receive  comfort  from 
it  at  the  hour  of  death  and  in  the  day  of  judgement.     Amen. 

I  intend  to-morrow  to  review  the  rules  I  have  at  any  time  laid 
down,  in  order  to  practise  them  x. 

7. 
A  PRAYER  ON  MY  BIRTHDAY. 

Sept.  7,  1738  2. 

O  God,  the  Creatour  and  Preserver  of  all  Mankind,  Father  of 
all  mercies,  I  thine  unworthy  servant  do  give  Thee  most  humble 
thanks,  for  all  thy  goodness  and  lovingkindness  to  me.  I  bless 
Thee  for  my  Creation,  Preservation,  and  Redemption,  for  the 
knowledge  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  means  of  Grace  and 
the  Hope  of  Glory.  In  the  days  of  Childhood  and  Youth,  in  the 
midst  of  weakness,  blindness,  and  danger,  Thou  hast  protected 
me ;  amidst  Afflictions  of  Mind,  Body,  and  Estate,  Thou  hast 
supported  me ;  and  amidst  vanity  and  Wickedness  Thou 
hast  spared  me.  Grant,  O  merciful  Father,  that  I  may  have 
a  lively  sense  of  thy  mercies.  Create  in  me  a  contrite  Heart, 
that  I  may  worthily  lament  my  sins  and  acknowlege  my 
wickedness,  and  obtain  Remission  and  forgiveness,  through  the 
satisfaction  of  Jesus  Christ.  And,  O  Lord,  enable  me,  by  thy 
Grace,  to  redeem  the  time  which  I  have  spent  in  Sloth,  Vanity, 
and  wickedness ;  to  make  use  of  thy  Gifts  to  the  honour  of  thy 
Name  ;  to  lead  a  new  life  in  thy  Faith,  Fear,  and  Love ;  and 
finally  to  obtain  everlasting  Life.  Grant  this,  Almighty  Lord, 
for  the  merits  and  through  the  mediation  of  our  most  holy 
and  blessed  Saviour  Jesus  Christ ;  to  whom,  with  Thee  and 
the  Holy  Ghost,  Three  Persons  and  one  God,  be  all  honour 
and  Glory,  World  without  end.  Amen. 

Transcribed]  June  26,  I7683. 

This  is  the  first  solemn4  prayer,  of  which  I  have  a  copy. 
Whether  I  composed  any  before  this,  I  question. 

1  Hawkins's  Johnson,  p.  163,  and  somewhat  in  the  sense  of  the  first 
Life,  i.  70.  of  his  definitions  of  that  word  in  his 

2  This  was  the  first  birthday  after  Dictionary — anniversary ;    observed 
his  settlement  in  London.        '  once  a  year  with  religious  ceremonies. 

3  Post,  under  1768.  This  paragraph  is  not  in  the  manu- 

4  He  uses    solemn,   I   conjecture,  script. 

PRAYER 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


PRAYER  ON  NEWYEAR'S  DAY. 

Jan.  i,  174$. 

Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  in  whose  hands  are  life  and 
death,  by  whose  will  all  things  were  created,  and  by  whose 
providence  they  are  sustained,  I  return  thee  thanks  that  Thou 
hast  given  me  life,  and  that  thou  hast  continued  it  to  this  time, 
that  thou  hast  hitherto  forborn  to  snatch  me  away  in  the  midst 
of  Sin  and  Folly,  and  hast  permitted  me  still  to  enjoy  the  means 
of  Grace,  and  vouchsafed  to  call  me  yet  again  to  Repentance. 
Grant,  O  merciful  Lord,  that  thy  Call  may  not  be  vain,  that  my 
Life  may  not  be  continued  to  encrease  my  Guilt,  and  that  thy 
gracious  Forbearance  may  not  harden  my  heart  in  wickedness. 
Let  me  remember,  O  my  God,  that  as  Days  and  Years  pass  over 
me,  I  approach  nearer  to  the  Grave,  where  there  is  no  repen 
tance1,  and  grant,  that  by  the  assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
I  may  so  pass  through  this  Life,  that  I  may  obtain  Life  ever 
lasting,  for  the  Sake  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 


0. 

Jan.  i,  i74|. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  not  yet  suffered 
me  to  fall  into  the  Grave,  grant  that  I  may  so  remember  my 
past  Life,  as  to  repent  of  the  days  and  years  which  I  have  spent 
in  forgetful  ness  of  thy  mercy,  and  neglect  of  my  own  Salvation, 
and  so  use  the  time  which  thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  as  that 
I  may  become  every  day  more  diligent  in  the  duties  which 
in  thy  Providence  shall  be  assigned  me,  and  that  when  at  last 
I  shall  be  called  to  judgement  I  may  be  received  as  a  good  and 
faithful  servant  into  everlasting  happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

1  Nevertheless  he  later  on  thought     benefit  from  the  prayers  of  the  living, 
it  possible,  and  perhaps  even  prob-     Post,  pp.  14,  15. 
able,  that  the  dead   might   receive 


Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


10. 

Jan.  I,  17^,  after  3  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  God,  by  whose  will  I  was  created,  and  by  whose 
Providence  I  have  been  sustained,  by  whose  mercy  I  have  been 
called  to  the  knowledge  of  my  Redeemer,  and  by  whose  Grace 
whatever  I  have  thought  or  acted  acceptable  to  thee  has  been 
inspired  and  directed,  grant,  O  Lord,  that  in  reviewing  my  past 
life,  I  may  recollect1  thy  mercies  to  my  preservation2,  in  what 
ever  state  thou  preparest  for  me,  that  in  affliction  I  may 
remember  how  often  I  have  been  succoured,  and  in  Prosperity 
may  know  and  confess  from  whose  hand  the  blessing  is  received. 
Let  me,  O  Lord,  so  remember  my  sins,  that  I  may  abolish 
them  by  true  repentance,  and  so  improve  the  Year  to  which  thou 
hast  graciously  extended  my  life,  and  all  the  years  which 
thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  that  I  may  hourly  become  purer  in 
thy  sight ;  so  that  I  may  live  in  thy  fear,  and  die  in  thy  favour, 
and  find  mercy  at  the  last  day,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

11. 

PRAYER  ON  THE  RAMBLER3. 

Almighty  God,  the  giver  of  all  good  things,  without  whose 
help  all  Labour  is  ineffectual,  and  without  whose  grace  all 
wisdom  is  folly,  grant,  I  beseech  Thee,  that  in  this  my  under 
taking,  thy  Holy  Spirit  may  not  be  withheld  from  me,  but  that 
I  may  promote  thy  glory,  and  the  Salvation  both  of  myself 
and  others ;  grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

1  improve,  scored  out.  professedly  serious,  if  I  have  been 

2  support  and  comfort,  scored  out.  able  to  execute  my  own  intentions, 

3  Quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  202.  will  be  found  exactly  conformable  to 
The  first  paper  of  the  Rambler  was  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  without 

published    on    March   20,    1749-50.  any  accommodation  to  the  licentious- 

In  the  original  manuscript  there  is  ness  and  levity  of  the  present  age. 

written    after    this    prayer: — 'Lord  I  therefore  look  back  on  this   part 

bless  me.     So  be  it.'    Through  these  of  my  work  with  pleasure,  which  no 

words  a  pen  has  been  drawn.  blame  or  praise  of  man  shall  diminish 

In  the  last  paragraph  of  the  last  or  augment.' 
Rambler, }  ohnson  says : — '  The  essays 

PRAYERS 


io  Prayers  and  Meditations. 


12. 

PRAYERS  COMPOSED  BY  ME  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MY  WIFEZ, 
AND  REPOSITED  AMONG  HER  MEMORIALS,  MAY  8,  1752 2. 

Deus  exaudi. — Heul 

April  24,  1752. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  lovest  those  whom 
Thou  punishest,  and  turnest  away  thy  anger  from  the  penitent, 
look  down  with  pity  upon  my  sorrows,  and  grant  that  the 
affliction  which  it  has  pleased  Thee  to  bring  upon  me,  may 
awaken  my  conscience,  enforce  my  resolutions  of  a  better  life, 
and  impress  upon  me  such  conviction  of  thy  power  and  good 
ness,  that  I  may  place  in  Thee  my  only  felicity,  and  endeavour 
to  please  Thee  in  all  my  thoughts,  words,  and  actions.  Grant, 
O  Lord,  that  I  may  not  languish  in  fruitless  and  unavailing 
sorrow3,  but  that  I  may  consider  from  whose  hand  all  good 
and  evil  is  received,  and  may  remember  that  I  am  punished 
for  my  sins,  and  hope  for  comfort  only  by  repentance.  Grant, 

0  merciful  God,  that  by  the   assistance   of  thy  Holy   Spirit 

1  may  repent,  and  be  comforted,  obtain  that  peace  which  the 
world  cannot  give,  pass  the  residue  of  my  life  in  humble  resig 
nation  and  cheerful  obedience  ;  and  when  it  shall  please  Thee 
to  call  me  from  this  mortal  state,  resign  myself  into  thy  hands 
with  faith  and  confidence,  and  finally  obtain  mercy  and  ever 
lasting    happiness,   for  the    sake    of   Jesus    Christ    our   Lord. 
Amen. 

13. 

April  25,  1752. 

O  Lord,  our  heavenly  Father,  almighty  and  most  merciful 
God,  in  whose  hands  are  life  and  death,  who  givest  and  takest 
away,  castest  down  and  raisest  up,  look  with  mercy  on  the 
affliction  of  thy  unworthy  servant,  turn  away  thine  anger  from 
me,  and  speak  peace  to  my  troubled  soul.  Grant  me  the 

*  She  had  died  on  March  17,  O.  S.  broke  College  MSS. 
(March  28,  N.  S.)  of  this  year.    Life,          3  For  his  exhortations  against  un- 

K  234-  availing  sorrow,  see  Letters,  ii.  4,  n. 

2  The  following  prayers  to  that  of  I,  215. 
April  22,  1753,  are  not  in  the  Pem- 

assistance 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  n 

assistance  and  comfort  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  may  remember 
with  thankfulness  the  blessings  so  long  enjoyed  by  me  in  the 
society  of  my  departed  wife ;  make  me  so  to  think  on  her 
precepts  and  example,  that  I  may  imitate  whatever  was  in 
her  life  acceptable  in  thy  sight,  and  avoid  all  by  which  she 
offended  Thee.  Forgive  me,  O  merciful  Lord,  all  my  sins,  and 
enable  me  to  begin  and  perfect  that  reformation  which  I  promised 
her,  and  to  persevere  in  that  resolution,  which  she  implored 
Thee  to  continue,  in  the  purposes  which  I  recorded  in  thy  sight, 
when  she  lay  dead  before  me z,  in  obedience  to  thy  laws,  and 
faith  in  thy  word.  And  now,  O  Lord,  release  me  from  my 
sorrow,  fill  me  with  just  hopes,  true  faith,  and  holy  consolations, 
and  enable  me  to  do  my  duty  in  that  state  of  life  to  which 
Thou  hast  been  pleased  to  call  me,  without  disturbance  from 
fruitless  grief,  or  tumultuous  imaginations ;  that  in  all  my 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  I  may  glorify  thy  Holy  Name, 
and  finally  obtain,  what  I  hope  Thou  hast  granted  to  thy 
departed  servant,  everlasting  joy  and  felicity,  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

14. 

April  26,  1752,  being  after  12  at  Night  of  the  25th. 

O  Lord  !  Governour  of  heaven  and  earth,  in  whose  hands 
are  embodied  and  departed  Spirits,  if  thou  hast  ordained  the 
Souls  of  the  Dead  to  minister  to  the  Living,  and  appointed 
my  departed  Wife  to  have  care  of  me,  grant  that  I  may  enjoy 
the  good  effects  of  her  attention  and  ministration,  whether 
exercised  by  appearance,  impulses,  dreams  or  in  any  other 
manner  agreeable  to  thy  Government.  Forgive  my  presumption, 
enlighten  my  ignorance,  and  however  meaner  agents  are  em 
ployed,  grant  me  the  blessed  influences  of  thy  holy  Spirit, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen2. 

1  See  post,  p.  25,  for  his  resolution  been  paid  to   dreams   in    all   ages, 
'to  consult  the  resolves  on   Tetty's  proves  that  the  superstition  is  natu- 
coffin.'      'Tetty   or  Tetsey  is    pro-  ral ;   and    I   have  heard  too  many 
vincially  used  as   a  contraction  for  well-attested    facts    (facts   to  which 
Elisabeth.'    Life,  i.  98.  belief  could  not  be  refused  upon  any 

2  Life,  i.  235.  known    laws    of   evidence)    not    to 
*  The  universal  attention  which  has      believe  that  impressions   are   some- 

O  Lord 


I2  Prayers  and  Meditations. 


15. 

May  6,  1752. 

O  Lord,  our  heavenly  Father,  without  whom  all  purposes 
are  frustrate,  all  efforts  are  vain,  grant  me  the  assistance  of 
thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  may  not  sorrow  as  one  without  hope, 
but  may  now  return  to  the  duties  of  my  present  state  with 
humble  confidence  in  thy  protection,  and  so  govern  my  thoughts 
and  actions,  that  neither  business  may  withdraw  my  mind  from 
Thee,  nor  idleness  lay  me  open  to  vain  imaginations ;  that 
neither  praise  may  fill  me  with  pride,  nor  censure  with  dis 
content  ;  but  that  in  the  changes  of  this  life,  I  may  fix  my 
heart  upon  the  reward  which  Thou  hast  promised  to  them 
that  serve  Thee,  and  that  whatever  things  are  true,  whatever 
things  are  honest,  whatever  things  are  just,  whatever  are 
pure,  whatever  are  lovely,  whatever  are  of  good  report,  wherein 
there  is  virtue,  wherein  there  is  praise,  I  may  think  upon  and 
do1,  and  obtain  mercy  and  everlasting  happiness.  Grant  this, 
O  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

Our  Father,  &c. — The  grace,  &c. 

May  6.  I  used  this  service,  written  April  24,  25,  May  6, 
as  preparatory  to  my  return  to  life  to-morrow. 

Maicapioi  oi  i'(Kpol  ol  kv  Kupt'u)  airoOvrivKOVTts  aitdpTi  2. 

Apoc.  xiv.  13. 
16. 
BEFORE  ANY  NEW  STUDY. 

November. 

Almighty  God,  in  whose  hands  are  all  the  powers  of  man ; 
who  givest  understanding,  and  takest  it  away ;  who,  as  it  seemeth 

times    made    in    this   manner,   and  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are 

forewarnings    communicated,   which  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just, 

cannot    be    explained    by    material  whatsoever  things   are   pure,   what- 

philosophy    or    mere    metaphysics.'  soever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever 

Southey.      Life  of  Wesley,   i.   359.  things  are  of  good  report ;    if  there 

Coleridge,  in  his  copy  of  this  work,  be  any  virtue   and   if  there  be  any 

wrote  in  the  margin  opposite  the  last  praise,  think  on  these  things.'  Philip- 

line : — '  Would  it  not  have  been  safer  pians,  iv.  8. 

to  have  said,  "  which  have  not  been,  2  <  Blessed    are    the    dead    which 

instead  of  cannot  be"  ?'  die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth.' 
'Finally    brethren,    whatsoever 

good 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  13 

good  unto  Thee,  enlightenest  the  thoughts  of  the  simple,  and 
darkenest  the  meditations  of  the  wise,  be  present  with  me  in  my 
studies  and  enquiries. 

Grant,  O  Lord,  that  I  may  not  lavish  away  the  life  which 
Thou  hast  given  me  on  useless  trifles,  nor  waste  it  in  vain 
searches  after  things  which  Thou  hast  hidden  from  me. 

Enable  me,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  so  to  shun  sloth  and 
negligence,  that  every  day  may  discharge  part  of  the  task  which 
Thou  hast  allotted  me ;  and  so  further  with  thy  help  that  labour 
which,  without  thy  help;  must  be  ineffectual,  that  I  may  obtain, 
in  all  my  undertakings,  such  success  as  will  most  promote  thy 
glory,  and  the  salvation  of  my  own  soul,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Amen. 

17. 

AFTER  TIME  NEGLIGENTLY  AND  UNPROFITABLY  SPENT. 

November  19. 

O  Lord,  in  whose  hands  are  life  and  death,  by  whose  power 
I  am  sustained,  and  by  whose  mercy  I  am  spared,  look  down 
upon  me  with  pity.  Forgive  me,  that  I  have  this  day  neglected 
the  duty  which  Thou  hast  assigned  to  it,  and  suffered  the  hours, 
of  which  I  must  give  account,  to  pass  away  without  any  endeavour 
to  accomplish  thy  will,  or  to  promote  my  own  salvation.  Make 
me  to  remember,  O  God,  that  every  day  is  thy  gift,  and  ought 
to  be  used  according  to  thy  command.  Grant  me,  therefore,  so 
to  repent  of  my  negligence,  that  I  may  obtain  mercy  from  Thee, 
and  pass  the  time  which  Thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  in  diligent 
performance  of  thy  commands,  through  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

18. 

Jan.  i,  1753,  N.  S.  which  I  shall  use  for  the  future. 
Almighty  God,  who  hast  continued  my  life  to  this  day,  grant 
that,  by  the  assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  I  may  improve  the 
time  which  thou  shalt  grant  me,  to  my  eternal  salvation.  Make 
me  to  remember,  to  thy  glory,  thy  judgements  and  thy  mercies. 
Make  me  so  to  consider  the  loss  of  my  wife,  whom  thou  hast 
taken  from  me,  that  it  may  dispose  me,  by  thy  grace,  to  lead 

the 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


Grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  Jesus 


the  residue  of  my  life  in  thy  fear. 
Christ's  sake.     Amen '. 

19. 

March  28,  1753.  I  kept  this  day  as  the  anniversary  of  my 
Tetty's  death,  with  prayer  and  tears  in  the  morning.  In  the 
evening  I  prayed  for  her  conditionally,  if  it  were  lawful 2. 

20. 

Apr.  3,  1753.  I  began  the  second  vol.  of  my  Dictionary, 
room  being  left  in  the  first  for  Preface,  Grammar,  and  History, 
none  of  them  yet  begun. 

O  God,  who  hast  hitherto  supported  me,  enable  me  to  proceed 
in  this  labour,  and  in  the  whole  task  of  my  present  state  ;  that 
when  I  shall  render  up,  at  the  last  day,  an  account  of  the  talent 


1  Life,  i.  251. 

Bos  well  in  his  Hebrides  (Life,  v. 
53)  says  that  Johnson,  on  starting 
from  Edinburgh,  left  behind  in  an 
open  drawer  in  Boswell's  house 
'one  volume  of  a  pretty  full  and 
curious  diary  of  his  life  of  which  I 
have  a  few  fragments.'  He  also 
states  (tb.  iv.  405) :— '  I  owned  to 
him,  that  having  accidentally  seen 
them  [two  quarto  volumes  of  his  Life} 
I  had  read  a  great  deal  in  them.' 
It  would  seem  that  he  had  also 
transcribed  a  portion,  for  he  says 
that  the  above  entry  he  '  transcribed 
from  that  part  of  the  diary  which 
Johnson  burnt  a  few  days  before  his 
death.' 

2  Life,  \.  236. 

Following  the  change  of  style  he 
kept  the  28th  instead  of  the  i7th. 

For  prayers  for  the  dead  and  the 
doctrine  of  a  middle  state,  see  Life, 
i.  240;  ii.  104,  162;  v.  356.  'John 
Rolland  (writes  Ramsay  of  Ochter- 
tyre)  showed  me  an  excerpt  from  one 
of  Boswell's  settlements,  in  which  he 
requests  the  prayers  of  all  good 
Christians  for  his  soul  after  its  de 
parture — which,  he  says,  may  benefit 


it,  and  cannot  possibly  do  it  harm.' 
Scotland  and  Scotsmen  in  the  Eigh 
teenth  Century,  i.  175. 

Hume,  writing  of  the  articles  of 
faith  decided  by  Convocation  in  1536, 
says  : — '  The  article  with  regard  to 
purgatory  contains  the  most  curious 
jargon,  ambiguity,  and  hesitation, 
arising  from  the  mixture  of  opposite 
tenets.  It  was  to  this  purpose : — 
"Since  according  to  due  order  of 
charity  and  the  book  of  Maccabees 
and  divers  ancient  authors  it  is  a 
very  good  and  charitable  deed  to 
pray  for  souls  departed,  and  since 
such  a  practice  has  been  maintained 
in  the  Church  from  the  beginning ; 
all  bishops  and  teachers  should  in 
struct  the  people  not  to  be  grieved 
for  the  continuance  of  the  same.  But 
since  the  place  where  departed  souls 
are  retained  before  they  reach  Para 
dise,  as  well  as  the  nature  of  their 
pains,  is  left  uncertain  by  Scripture, 
all  such  questions  are  to  be  sub 
mitted  to  God,  to  whose  mercy  it  is 
meet  and  convenient  to  commend 
the  deceased,  trusting  that  he  ac- 
cepteth  our  prayers  for  them.'  Hist, 
of  Eng.  ed.  1773,  iv.  167. 

committed 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  15 

committed  to  me,  I  may  receive  pardon,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ.     Amen x. 

21. 
PRAYER  ON  EASTER  DAY. 

Ap.  22,  1753. 

O  Lord,  who  givest  the  grace  of  Repentance,  and  hearest  the 
prayers  of  the  penitent,  grant,  that  by  true  contrition,  I  may 
obtain  forgiveness  of  all  the  sins  committed,  and  of  all  duties 
neglected,  in  my  union  with  the  Wife  whom  thou  hast  taken 
from  me,  for  the  neglect  of  joint  devotion,  patient  exhortation, 
and  mild  instruction.  And,  O  Lord,  who  canst  change  evil  to 
good,  grant  that  the  loss  of  my  Wife  may  so  mortify  all  in 
ordinate  affections  in  me,  that  I  may  henceforth  please  thee  by 
holiness  of  Life. 

And,  O  Lord,  so  far  as  it  may  be  lawful  for  me,  I  commend 
to  thy  fatherly  goodness  the  Soul  of  my  departed  wife2; 
beseeching  thee  to  grant  her  whatever  is  best  in  her  present 
state,  and  finally  to  receive  her  to  eternal  happiness.  All  this 
I  beg  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  whose  death  I  am  now  about  to 
commemorate.  To  whom,  &c.  Amen 3. 

This  I  repeated  sometimes  at  church. 

22. 

April  23,  1753.  I  know  not  whether  I  do  not  too  much 
indulge  the  vain  longings  of  affection ;  but  I  hope  they  in- 
tenerate  my  heart,  and  that  when  I  die  like  my  Tetty,  this 
affection  will  be  acknowledged  in  a  happy  interview,  and  that  in 
the  mean  time  I  am  incited  by  it  to  piety.  I  will,  however, 
not  deviate  too  much  from  common  and  received  methods  of 
devotion  4. 

1  Life,  i.  255.  common  and  received  methods  of 

2  He  had  begun  to  write  wife  with      devotion.' 

a  capital  letter,  but  scored  it  out.  A  few  weeks  after  Johnson  made 

3  Most  of  this  prayer  is  quoted  in  this  entry  Gibbon  joined  the  Church 
the  Life,  i.  240.  of  Rome.     '  On  the  eighth  of  June, 

4  Life,  i.  237.     It  was,  no  doubt,  1753,  I  solemnly,  though  privately, 
in  his    conditional  prayers  for  his  abjured  the  errors  of  heresy.'     Gib- 
wife    that    he   deviated    from    '  the  bon's  Misc.  Writ.  i.  64. 

[Undated 


1 6  Prayers  and  Meditations. 


23. 

[Undated;  probably  1753.] 

I  do  not  remember  that  since  I  left  Oxford  I  ever  rose  early 
by  mere  choice,  but  once  or  twice  at  Edial,  and  two  or  three 
times  for  the  Rambler I. 

24. 

Fl.  Lacr.2  March  28,  in  the  Morning. 

0  God,  who  on  this  day  wert  pleased  to  take  from  me  my 
dear  Wife,  sanctify  to  me  my  sorrows  and  reflections.     Grant, 
that  I  may  renew  and  practise  the  resolutions  which  I  made 
when  thy  afflicting  hand  was  upon  me.     Let  the  remembrance 
of  thy  judgements  by  which  my  wife  is  taken  away  awaken  me 
to  repentance,  and  the  sense  of  thy  mercy  by  which  I  am  spared, 
strengthen  my  hope  and  confidence  in  Thee,  that  by  the  assist 
ance  and  comfort  of  thy  holy  spirit  I  may  so  pass  through  things 
temporal,  as  finally  to  gain  everlasting  happiness,  and  to  pass  by 
a  holy  and  happy  death,  into  the  joy  which  thou  hast  prepared 
for  those  that  love  thee.     Grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ.     Amen. 

The  melancholy  of  this  day  hung  long  upon  me. 

Of  the  resolutions  made  this  day3  I,  in  some  measure  kept 
that  of  breaking  from  indolence. 

25. 

March  28,  1754,  at  Night. 

Almighty  God,  vouchsafe  to  sanctify  unto  me  the  reflections 
and  resolutions  of  this  day 3,  let  not  my  sorrow  be  unprofitable  ; 
let  not  my  resolutions  be  vain.  Grant  that  my  grief  may 
produce  true  repentance,  so  that  I  may  live  to  please  thee,  and 
when  the  time  shall  come  that  I  must  die  like  her  whom  thou 
hast  taken  from  me,  grant  me  eternal  happiness  in  thy  presence, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

1  Life,  ii.  143.  =>  <  \Ve  presume  to  interpret  flenti- 
'  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,      buslacrymis?  Gent.Afag.i7%$,  ii.  731. 

he  said,  was  the  only  book  that  ever  3  He  at  first  wrote  :  Almighty  God, 
took  him  out  of  bed  two  hours  sooner  by  whose  grace  I  have  this  day 
than  he  wished  to  rise.'  Ib.  ii.  121.  endeavoured. 

Jtdy 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  17 


26. 

July  13,  1755.  Having  lived  not  without  an  habitual  reverence 
for  the  Sabbath,  yet  without  that  attention  to  its  religious  duties 
which  Christianity  requires,  [I  resolve] 

1.  To  rise  early,  and  in  order  to  it,  to  go  to  sleep  early  on 
Saturday. 

2.  To  use  some  extraordinary  devotion  in  the  morning. 

3.  To  examine  the  tenour  of  my  life,  and  particularly  the 
last  week ;  and  to  mark  my  advances  in  religion,  or  recession 
from  it. 

4.  To  read  the  Scripture  methodically  with  such  helps  as  are 
at  hand. 

5.  To  go  to  church  twice. 

6.  To  read  books  of  Divinity,  either  speculative  or  practical. 

7.  To  instruct  my  family. 

8.  To  wear  off  by  meditation  any  worldly  soil  contracted  in 
the  week x. 

27. 

ON  THE  STUDY  OF  PHILOSOPHY,  AS  AN  INSTRUMENT 
OF  LIVING2. 

July. 

O  Lord,  who  hast  ordained  labour  to  be  the  lot  of  man,  and 
seest  the  necessities  of  all  thy  creatures,  bless  my  studies 
and  endeavours ;  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me ;  and  if 
it  shall  be  thy  good  pleasure  to  intrust  me  with  plenty,  give  me 

*  Life,  \.  303.  '  Sunday  (said  John-  had  been  published  in  the  previous 
son)  was  a  heavy  day  to  me  when  April.  He  was  now  casting  about 
I  was  a  boy.  My  mother  confined  for  fresh  employment.  Though  he 
me  on  that  day,  and  made  me  read  did  not,  he  says,  pursue  the  study  of 
The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  from  a  philosophy,  nevertheless  in  the  im- 
great  part  of  which  I  could  derive  no  aginary  University  which  he  and 
instruction.'  Ib.  i.  67.  See  post,  Boswell  planned,  he  was  to  teach 
under  April  16,  1781.  For  his  un-  'logick,metaphysicks,andscholastick 
willingness  to  attend  church  see  Life,  divinity.'  Life,  v.  109. 
i.  67,  n.  2,  and  for  the  observance  of  Hume  wrote  in  1764:  'Civil  em- 
Sunday,  ib.  ii.  72,  376  ;  v.  69.  ployments  for  men  of  letters  can 

2  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pern-  scarcely  be  found  :  all  is  occupied  by 

broke  College  MSS.  See  Life,  i.  302.  men  of  business  or  by  parliamentary 

The  Dictionary  on  which  he  had  interest.'     Burton's  Hume,  ii.  187. 
been  working  for  nearly  eight  years 

VOL.  I.                                       C  a  compassionate 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


a  compassionate  heart,  that  I  may  be  ready  to  relieve  the  wants 
of  others  ;  let  neither  poverty  nor  riches  estrange  my  heart  from 
Thee,  but  assist  me  with  thy  grace  so  to  live  as  that  I  may  die 
in  thy  favour,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

This  study  was  not  persued. 

Transcribed  June  26,  1768  '. 

28. 

Jan.  i,  1756,  Afternoon. 

Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  in  whom  we  live  and  move, 
and  have  our  being,  glory  be  to  thee,  for  my  recovery  from 
sickness,  and  the  continuance  of  my  Life  2.  Grant  O  my  God 
that  I  may  improve  the  year  which  I  am  now  begining,  and  all 
the  days  which  thou  shalt  add  to  my  life,  by  serious  repentance 
and  diligent  obedience,  that,  by  the  help  of  thy  holy  Spirit 
I  may  use  the  means  of  Grace  to  my  own  salvation,  and  at  last 
enjoy  thy  presence  in  eternal  happiness,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 

Amen. 

29. 

HILL  BOOTHBY'S  DEATH  3. 

January,  1756. 

0  Lord  God,  almighty  disposer  of  all  things,  in  whose  hands 
are  life  and  death,  who  givest  comforts  and  takest  them  away, 
I  return  Thee  thanks  for  the  good  example  of  Hill  Boothby, 
whom  Thou  hast  now  taken  away,  and  implore  thy  grace,  that 
I  may  improve  the  opportunity  of  instruction  which  Thou  hast 
afforded  me,  by  the  knowledge  of  her  life,  and  by  the  sense  of 
her  death  ;  that  I  may  consider  the  uncertainty  of  my  present 
state,  and  apply  myself  earnestly  to  the  duties  which  Thou  hast 
set  before  me,  that  living  in  thy  fear,  I  may  die  in  thy  favour, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 

1  commend,  &c.  W.  and  H.  B.4 

Transcribed  June  36.  1768. 

1  See  post,  under  1768.  Piozzi,   'that   when   this    lady  died 

2  For  his  illness  see  Letters,  \.  45-  Johnson  was  almost  distracted  with 
52-  his  grief.'    Piozzi's  Anecdotes,  p.  161. 

3  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pern-  William  was  a  common  name  in  the 
broke  College  MS  S.  Boothby  family.     Perhaps  '  W.  and 

4  For  Hill  Boothby  see  Letters,  \.  H.  B.'  stands  for  William  and  Hill 
45-53.      She  died  on  Jan.  16.     '  I  Boothby. 

have  heard  Baretti  say,'  writes  Mrs. 

WHEN 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  19 

30. 

WHEN  MY  EYE  WAS  RESTORED  TO  ITS  USE. 

February  15,  1756*. 

Almighty  God,  who  hast  restored  light  to  my  eye2,  and 
enabled  me  to  persue  again  the  studies  which  Thou  hast  set 
before  me  ;  teach  me,  by  the  diminution  of  my  sight,  to  remem 
ber  that  whatever  I  possess  is  thy  gift,  and  by  its  recovery,  to 
hope  for  thy  mercy  :  and,  O  Lord,  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from 
me  ;  but  grant  that  I  may  use  thy  bounties  according  to  thy 
will,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

31. 

INTRODUCTORY  PRAYER. 

O  God  who  desirest  not  the  death  of  a  Sinner,  look  down 
with  mercy  upon  me  now  daring  to  call  upon  thee.  Let  thy 
Holy  Spirit  so  purify  my  affections,  and  exalt  my  desires  that 
my  prayer  may  be  acceptable  in  thy  sight,  through  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

March  25,  1756. 

32. 

March  28,  — 56,  about  two  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  God,  our  heavenly  father  whose  judgments  ter 
minate  in  mercy  grant,  I  beseech  Thee,  that  the  remembrance 
of  my  Wife,  whom  Thou  hast  taken  from  me,  may  not  load  my 
soul  with  unprofitable  sorrow,  but  may  excite  in  me  true  re 
pentance  of  my  sins  and  negligences,  and  by  the  operation  of 
thy  Grace  may  produce  in  me  a  new  life  pleasing  to  thee. 
Grant  that  the  loss  of  my  Wife  may  teach  me  the  true  use  of 
the  Blessings  which  are  yet  left  me  ;  and  that,  however  bereft 
of  worldly  comforts 3, 1  may  find  peace  and  refuge  in  thy  service 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

1  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pern-  eye.'    Letters,  i.  57.     See  also  Life, 
broke  College  MSS.  i.  305. 

2  Four  days  later  he  wrote  :  '  The  3  At  first  he  wrote  :  '  that  however 
inflammation  is  come  again  into  my  solitary.' 

C  2  Almighty 


20  Prayers  and  Meditations. 


33. 

Jan.  i,  1757,  at  two  in  the  Morning. 

Almighty  God,  who  hast  brought  me  to  the  beginning  of 
another  year,  and  by  prolonging  my  life  invitest  to  repentance, 
forgive  me  that  I  have  mispent  the  time  past,  enable  me  from 
this  instant  to  amend  my  life  according  to  thy  holy  Word, 
grant '  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  may  so  pass  through  things 
temporal  as  not  finally  to  lose  the  things  eternal.  O  God,  hear 
my  prayer  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

34. 

EASTER  EVE,  1757. 

Almighty  God,  heavenly  Father,  who  desirest  not  the  death 
of  a  sinner,  look  down  with  mercy  upon  me  depraved  with  vain 
imaginations,  and  entangled  in  long  habits  of  sin.  Grant  me 
that  grace  without  which  I  can  neither  will  nor  do  what  is 
acceptable  to  thee.  Pardon  my  sins,  remove  the  impediments 
that  hinder  my  obedience.  Enable  me  to  shake  off  sloth,  and 
to  redeem  the  time  mispent  in  idleness  and  sin  by  a  diligent 
application  of  the  days  yet  remaining  to  the  duties  which  thy 
Providence  shall  allot  me.  O  God,  grant  me  thy  Holy  Spirit 
that  I  may  repent  and  amend  my  life,  grant  me  contrition,  grant 
me  resolution  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  whose  covenant 
I  now  implore  admission,  of  the  benefits  of  whose  death  I  im 
plore  participation.  For  his  sake  have  mercy  on  me,  O  God ; 
for  his  sake,  O  God,  pardon  and  receive  me.  Amen. 

35. 

PRAYER. 

Sept.  1 8,  1757. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father  by  whose  providence  my 
life  has  been  prolonged,  and  who  hast  granted  me  now  to  begin 
another  year  of  probation,  vouchsafe  me  such  assistance  of  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  that  the  continuance  of  my  life  may  not  add  to  the 
measure  of  my  guilt,  but  that  I  may  so  repent  of  the  days  and 
years  passed  in  neglect  of  the  duties  which  thou  hast  set  before 

1  The  rest  of  the  prayer  he  at  first  scored  through,  but  afterwards 
added  '  Stet.' 

me 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  21 

me,  in  vain  thoughts,  in  sloth,  and  in  folly,  that  I  may  apply  my 
heart  to  true  wisdom,  by  diligence  redeem  the  time  lost,  and  by 
repentance  obtain  pardon,  for  the  sake  of  JESUS  CHRIST. 

Amen  *. 

36. 

EASTER  DAY,  March  26,  1758. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  created  me  to 
love  and  to  serve  thee,  enable  [me]  so  to  partake  of  the  sacrament 
in  which  the  Death  of  Jesus  Christ  is  commemorated  that  I  may 
henceforward  lead  a  new  life  in  thy  faith  and  fear.  Thou  who 
knowest  my  frailties  and  infirmities  strengthen  and  support  me. 
Grant  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  after  all  my  lapses  I  may  now 
continue  stedfast  in  obedience,  that  after  long  habits  of  neg 
ligence  and  sin,  I  may,  at  last,  work  out  my  salvation  with 
diligence  and  constancy,  purify  my  thoughts  from  pollutions, 
and  fix  my  affections  on  things  eternal.  Much  of  my  time  past 
has  been  lost  in  sloth,  let  not  what  remains,  O  Lord,  be  given 
me  in  vain,  but  let  me  from  this  time  lead  a  better  life  and 
serve  thee  with  a  quiet  mind  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

37. 

March  28,  1758. 

Almighty  and  eternal  God,  who  givest  life  and  takest  it 
away,  grant  that  while  thou  shalt  prolong2  my  continuance  on 
earth,  I  may  live  with  a  due  sense  of  thy  mercy  and  forbear 
ance,  and  let  the  remembrance  of  her  whom  thy  hand  has 
separated  from  me,  teach  me  to  consider  the  shortness  and 
uncertainty  of  life,  and  to  use  all  diligence  to  obtain  eternal 
happiness  in  thy  presence.  O  God  enable  me  to  avoid  sloth, 
and  to  attend  needfully  and  constantly  to  thy  word  and  worship. 
Whatever  was  good  in  the  example  of  my  departed  wife,  teach 
me  to  follow ;  and  whatever  was  amiss  give  me  grace  to  shun, 
that  my  affliction  may  be  sanctified,  and  that  remembering  how 
much  every  day  brings  me  nearer  to  the  grave,  I  may  every 
day  purify  my  mind,  and  amend  my  life,  by  the  assistance  of 

1  At  the  foot  of  the  page  he  had      Worship.' 

written  but  scored  out :  f  Idleness  2  He  had  at  first  written  :  '  Make 
—  intemperate  sleep  —  dilatoriness,  me  to  enjoy  the  time  for  which  thou 
inmethodical  life.  Negligence  of  shalt '  £c. 

thy 


22  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

thy  holy  Spirit,  till  at  last  I  shall  be  accepted  by  Thee,  for 
Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


Sept.  18,  1758,  hora  prima  matutina. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  yet  sparest  and  yet 
supportest  me,  who  supportest  me  in  my  weakness,  and  sparest 
me  in  my  sins,  and  hast  now  granted  to  me  to  begin  another 
year,  enable  me  to  improve  the  time  which  is  yet  before  me,  to 
thy  glory  and  my  own  Salvation.  Impress  upon  my  Soul  such 
repentance  of  the  days  rnispent  in  idleness  and  folly,  that  I  may 
henceforward  diligently  attend  to  the  business  of  my  station  in  this 
world  x,  and  to  all  the  duties  which  thou  hast  commanded.  Let 
thy  Holy  Spirit  comfort  and  guide  me  that  in  my  passage 
through  the  pains  or  pleasures  of  the  present  state,  I  may  never 
be  tempted  to  forgetfulness  of  Thee.  Let  my  life  be  useful, 
and  my  death  be  happy  2;  let  me  live  according  to  thy  laws,  and 
dye  with  just  confidence  in  thy  mercy  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

This  year  I  hope  to  learn  diligence 3. 

39. 

Jan.  23,  1759. 

The  day  on  which  my  dear  Mother  was  buried.     Repeated  on 

my  fast,  with  the  addition  4. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  in  whose  hands  are  life  and 
death,  sanctify  unto  me  the  sorrow  which  I  now  feel.  Forgive 
me  whatever  I  have  done  unkindly  to  my  Mother,  and  whatever 
I  have  omitted  to  do  kindly.  Make  me  to  remember  her  good 
precepts,  and  good  example,  and  to  reform  my  life  according  to 

1  At  first  he   had  written  :    '  the  It  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the 
duties  which  thou  shalt  assign  me,  way  in  which  different  generations 
and  to  the  duties  by  which.'  overlap  each  other  that  Jeremy  Ben- 

2  At  first  he  had  written  '  useful.'  tham's  mother  died  about  a  fortnight 

3  This  line  is  quoted  in  the  Life,  before  Johnson's  mother.   Bentham's 
i.  331.  Works,   x.   26.     Mrs.  Johnson   was 

4  For  the  death  of  his  mother  see  born  nine  years  after  the  Restora- 
Ltfe,  i.   339,  and  Letters,  i.  75-81.  tion,   and    Bentham    died    the   day 
The  fast  was  held  on  March  24,  as  before    the    first    Reform    Bill   was 
the  next  entry  shows.  carried. 

thy 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  23 

thy  holy  word,  that  I  may  lose  no  more  opportunities  of  good  ; 
I  am  sorrowful,  O  Lord,  let  not  my  sorrow  be  without  fruit. 
Let  it  be  followed  by  holy  resolutions,  and  lasting  amendment, 
that  when  I  shall  die  like  my  mother,  I  may  be  received  to  ever 
lasting  life. 

I  commend,  O  Lord,  so  far  as  it  may  be  lawful,  into  thy  hands, 
the  soul  of  my  departed  Mother,  beseeching  Thee  to  grant  her 
whatever  is  most  beneficial  to  Her  in  her  present  state. 

0  Lord,  grant  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  and  have  mercy  upon  me 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 

And,  O  Lord,  grant  unto  me  that  am  now  about  to  return  to 
the  common  comforts  and  business  of  the  world,  such  moderation 
in  all  enjoyments,  such  diligence  in  honest  labour,  and  such 
purity  of  mind,  that,  amidst  the  changes,  miseries,  or  pleasures 
of  life,  I  may  keep  my  mind  fixed  upon  thee,  and  improve  every 
day  in  grace,  till  I  shall  be  received  into  thy  kingdom  of  eternal 
happiness. 

1  returned  thanks  for  my  mother's  good  example,  and  im 
plored  pardon  for  neglecting  it. 

I  returned  thanks  for  the  alleviation  of  my  sorrow. 
The  dream  of  my  brother z  I  shall  remember. 

40. 

w.» 

March  the  24,  1759,  rather  25,  after  12  at  night. 

Almighty  God,  heavenly  Father,  who  hast  graciously  pro 
longed  my  life  to  this  time,  and  by  the  change  of  outward  things 
which  I  am  now  to  make 3,  callest  me  to  a  change  of  inward 
affections,  and  to  a  reformation  of  my  thoughts  words  and 
practices.  Vouchsafe  merciful  Lord  that  this  call  may  not  be 
vain.  Forgive  me  whatever  has  been  amiss  in  the  state  which 
I  am  now  leaving,  Idleness,  and  neglect  of  thy  word  and  worship. 
Grant  me  the  grace  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  the  course  which 
I  am  now  begining  may  proceed  according  to  thy  laws,  and  end 

1  His  brother  died  in  1737.     Life,          3  He  had  moved  on  the  23rd  from 
i.  90.  Gough  Square  to  Staple  Inn.  Letters, 

2  Jej.  I  conjecture  is  put  for  Je-      i.  86.     See  also  Life,  i.  350. 
jumts,  fasting. 

in 


24  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

in  the  enjoyment  of  thy  favour1.  Give  me,  O  Lord,  pardon  and 
peace,  that  I  may  serve  thee  with  humble  confidence,  and  after 
this  life  enjoy  thy  presence  in  eternal  Happiness. 

And,  O  Lord,  so  far  as  it  may  be  lawful  for  me,  I  commend 
to  thy  Fatherly  goodness,  my  Father,  my  Brother,  my  Wife, 
my  Mother.  I  beseech  thee  to  look  mercifully  upon  them, 
and  grant  them  whatever  may  most  promote  their  present  and 
eternal  joy. 

O  Lord,  hear  my  prayers  for  Jesus  Christs  sake,  to  whom, 
with  Thee  and  the  Holy  Ghost  three  persons  and  one  God  be 
all  honour  and  glory  world  without  end.  Amen2. 

O  Lord,  let  the  change  which  I  am  now  making  in  outward 
things,  produce  in  [me]  such  a  change  of  manners,  as  may  fit  me 
for  the  great  change  through  which  my  Wife  has  passed  3. 

41. 

EASTER  DAY,  April  15,  1759*. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  look  down  with  pity 
upon  my  sins.  I  am  a  sinner,  good  Lord  ;  but  let  not  my  sins 
burthen  me  for  ever.  Give  me  thy  grace  to  break  the  chain  of 
evil  custom.  Enable  me  to  shake  off  idleness  and  sloth  ;  to 
will  and  to  do  what  thou  hast  commanded  ;  grant  me  chaste  5 
in  thoughts,  words  and  actions :  to  love  and  frequent  thy 
worship,  to  study  and  understand  thy  word ;  to  be  diligent  in 
my  calling,  that  I  may  support  myself  and  relieve  others. 

Forgive  me,  O  Lord,  whatever  my  mother  has  suffered  by  my 
fault,  whatever  I  have  done  amiss,  and  whatever  duty  I  have 
neglected.  Let  me  not  sink  into  useless  dejection ;  but  so 
sanctify  my  affliction,  O  Lord,  that  I  may  be  converted  and 

1  This  paragraph  is  quoted  in  the  remember  of  Easter  17  \sic\. 
Life,  i.  350.  Use  the  lines  on  this  page. 

2  Boswell  adduces  this  prayer  as  On  another  page  is  written  : — 
proof  of  Johnson's  'orthodox  belief  Uxbridge,  13.9. 

in  the  sacred  mystery  of  the  Trinity.'  Wicombe,  10.  6. 

Life,  ii.  254.  Tetsworth,  10.  6. 

3  The  following  words  are  scored  If  my  mother  had  lived  till  March, 
out : —  she  would  have  been  eighty-nine. 

At  the  place  where  I  commended  4  Croker's  Boswell,  x.  130. 

ner-  5  Johnson   does  not  give    in    his 

At  the  place  where  she  died.  Dictionary  such  a  construction  as 

As  much  of  the  prayer  as  I  can  « grant  me  chaste.' 

healed 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  25 

healed  ;  and  that,  by  the  help  of  thy  holy  spirit,  I  may  obtain 
everlasting  life  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

And,  O  Lord,  so  far  as  it  may  be  lawful,  I  commend  unto  thy 
fatherly  goodness  my  father,  brother,  wife,  and  mother,  beseeching 
thee  to  make  them  happy  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

42. 

Sept.  18,  1760,  resolved  D.  j. l 

To  combat  notions  of  obligation 2. 

To  apply  to  study. 

To  reclaim  imagination. 

To  consult  the  resolves  on  Tetty's  coffin  3. 

To  rise  early. 

To  study  Religion. 

To  go  to  Church. 

To  drink  less  strong  liquors  4. 

To  keep  Journal. 

To  oppose  laziness,  by  doing  what  is  to  [be]  done  to  morrow. 

Rise  as  early  as  I  can. 

Send  for  books  for  Hist,  of  war5. 

Put  books  in  order  6. 

Scheme  life 7. 

1  Deo  juvante.  his  long  periods  of  abstinence,  see 

2  He    had,    I     conjecture,     been     Life,  i.  103,  n.  3. 

tempted  to  bind  himself  by  a  vow  in         5  Boswell  assumes  that  he  meant 

order  to  force  himself  to  do  what  he  to  write  a  history  of  the  war  that  the 

thought  he  ought  to  do.  Against  vows  first  Pitt  was  carrying  on  in  a  suc- 

he  more  than  once  strongly  protested,  cession  of  triumphs.     It  is  possible 

'  Do  not  accustom  yourself,'  he  wrote  that  it  was  a  history  of  war  in  gene- 

to  Boswell,  *  to  enchain  your  vola-  ral  that  he  had  in  view.     Ib.  i.  354. 
tility  by  vows;   they  will  sometime         6  '  On  Wednesday,  April  3,  [1776], 

leave  a  thorn  in   your  mind,  which  in  the  morning  I  found   him  very 

you  will  perhaps  never   be   able  to  busy  putting  his  books  in  order,  and 

extract  or  eject.'  Life,  ii.  21.  'A  vow  as  they  were  generally  very  old  ones 

is  a  horrible  thing,  it  is  a  snare  for  clouds   of  dust  were  flying  around 

sin.'  Ib.  iii.  357.     See  also  Letters,  him.     He   had  on   a  pair  of  large 

i.   217.      See  post,  p.   30,  where  he  gloves  such   as   hedgers   use.     His 

records  : — '  I  resolved  in  the  presence  present  appearance  put  me  in  mind 

of  God  but  without  a  vow'  &c.    This  of  my  uncle  Dr.  Boswell's  descrip- 

would  seem   to   show  that   he   had  tion  of  him,  "  A  robust  genius,  born 

once  made  vows.  to    grapple  with    whole   libraries."  ' 

3  Ante,  p.  ii.  Life,  iii.  7. 

4  For  his  use  of  strong  liquors  and         7<I    have,'    he    said,    *from    the 

O  Almighty 


26  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

0  Almighty  God,  merciful   Father,  who  hast  continued  my 
life  to  another  year  grant  that  I  may  spend  the  time  which  thou 
shalt  yet  give  me  in  such  obedience  to  thy  word  and  will  that 
finally,  I  may  obtain  everlasting  life.     Grant  that  I  may  repent 
and  forsake  my  sins  before  the  miseries  of  age  fall  upon  me,  and 
that  while  my  strength  yet  remains  I  may  use  it  to  thy  glory 
and  my  own  salvation,  by  the  assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  for 
Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 

43. 

EASTER  EVE,  1761. 

Since  the  Communion  of  last  Easter  I  have  led  a  life  so 
dissipated  and  useless,  and  my  terrours  and  perplexities  have 
so  much  encreased,  that  I  am  under  great  depression  and  dis 
couragement,  yet  I  purpose  to  present  myself  before  God  to 
morrow  with  humble  hope  that  he  will  not  break  the  bruised 
reed, 

Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  travail. 

1  have  resolved,  I  hope  not  presumptuously,  till  I  am  afraid 
to  resolve  again.     Yet  hoping  in  God  I  stedfastly  purpose  to 
lead  a  new  life.     O  God,  enable  me,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 

My  purpose  is 

To  avoid  Idleness. 

To  regulate  my  sleep  as  to  length  and  choice  of  hours. 

To  set  down  every  day  what  shall  be  done  the  day  following. 

To  keep  a  Journal. 

To  worship  God  more  diligently. 

To  go  to  Church  every  Sunday. 

To  study  the  Scriptures. 

To  read  a  certain  portion  every  week. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father  look  down  upon  my 
misery  with  pity,  strengthen  me  that  I  may  overcome  all  sinful 
habits,  grant  that  I  may  with  effectual  faith  commemorate  the 
death  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  so  that  all  corrupt  desires  may  be 
extinguished,  and  all  vain  thoughts  may  be  dispelled.  Enlighten 

earliest  time  almost  that  I  can  re-  evening  before  he  was  struck  with 
member  been  forming  schemes  of  the  palsy,  he  was  still  'planning 
a  better  life.'  Post,  p.  31.  The  schemes  of  life.'  Life,  iv.  230. 

me 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  27 

me  with  true  knowledge,  animate  me  with  reasonable  hope, 
comfort  me  with  a  just  sense  of  thy  love,  and  assist  me  to  the 
performance  of  all  holy  purposes,  that  after  the  sins,  errours,  and 
miseries  of  this  world,  I  may  obtain  everlasting  happiness  for 
Jesus  Christ's  sake.  To  whom,  &c.  Amen. 

I  hope  to  attend  on  God  in  his  ordinances  to-morrow. 
Trust  in  God  O  my  soul.     O  God,  let  me  trust  in  Thee r. 

44. 

March,  28,  1762. 

God  grant  that  I  may  from  this  day 
Return  to  my  studies. 
Labour  diligently. 
Rise  early. 
Live  temperately. 
Read  the  Bible. 
Go  to  church. 

O  God,  Giver  and  Preserver  of  all  life,  by  whose  power  I  was 
created,  and  by  whose  providence  I  am  sustained,  look  down 
upon  me  [with]  tenderness  and  mercy,  grant  that  I  may  not 
have  been  created  to  be  finally  destroyed,  that  I  may  not  be 
preserved  to  add  wickedness  to  wickedness  2,  but  may  so  repent 
me  of  my  sins,  and  so  order  my  life  to  come,  that  when  I  shall 
be  called  hence  like  the  wife  whom  Thou  hast  taken  from  me, 
I  may  dye  in  peace  and  in  thy  favour,  and  be  received  into 
thine  everlasting  kingdom  through  the  merits  and  mediation  of 
Jesus  Christ  thine  only  Son  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Amen. 

45. 

[1764.] 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  by  thy  son  Jesus 
Christ  hast  redeemed  man  from  Sin  and  Death,  grant  that  the 
commemoration  of  his  passion  may  quicken  my  repentance, 
encrease  my  hope,  and  strengthen  my  faith  and  enlarge  my 
Charity  ;  that  I  may  lament  and  forsake  my  sins  and  for  the 
time  which  thou  shalt  yet  grant  me,  may  avoid  Idleness,  and 
neglect  of  thy  word  and  worship.  Grant  me  strength  to  be 

1  The  last  clause  has  been  added  in  pencil. 

2  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  397. 

diligent 


28  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

diligent  in  the  lawful  employments  which  shall  be  set  before  me ; 
Grant  me  purity  of  thoughts,  words,  and  actions.  Grant  me  to 
love  and  study  thy  word,  and  to  frequent  thy  worship  with  pure 
affection.  Deliver  and  preserve  me  from  vain  terrours,  and 
grant  that  by  the  Grace  of  thy  Holy  Spirit  I  may  so  live  that 
after  this  life  ended,  I  may  be  received  to  everlasting  happiness 
for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

46. 

April  20,  1764,  GOOD  FRYDAY. 

I  have  made  no  reformation,  I  have  lived  totally  useless,  more 
sensual  in  thought  and  more  addicted  to  wine  and  meat r,  grant 
me,  O  God,  to  amend  my  life  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

I  hope 

To  put  my  rooms  in  order  *. 

I  fasted  all  day. 

^Disorder  I  have  found  one  great  cause  of  idleness 2. 

47. 

April  21,  i764,-3-m. 

x~    My  indolence,  since  my  last  reception  of  the  Sacrament 3,  has 

I   sunk  into  grosser  sluggishness,  and  my  dissipation  spread  into 

/    wilder  negligence.     My  thoughts  have  been  clouded  with  sen- 

<  ,    suality,  and,  except  that  from  the  beginning  of  this  year  I  have 

I    in  some  measure  forborn  excess  of  Strong  Drink  my  appetites 

have  predominated  over  my  reason.     A  kind  of  strange  oblivion 

has  overspread  me,  so  that  I  know  not  what  has  become  of  the 

\   last  year,  and  perceive  that  incidents  and  intelligence  pass  over 

^me  without  leaving  any  impression. 

This  is  not  the  life  to  which  Heaven  is  promised  4.    I  purpose 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  482.  pulse  to  action,   either  corporal  or 

2  '  We  cannot  but  reflect  on  that  mental.'     Hawkins,  p.  205. 
inertness  and  laxity  of  mind  which  3  In  only  two  or  three  instances  is 
the  neglect  of  order  and  regularity  in  mention   made  of  his   reception  of 
living,  and  the  observance  of  stated  the  Sacrament  on  any  other  day  but 
hours,  in  short  the  waste  of  time,  is  Easter    Sunday.      See  post,    under 
apt  to  lead  men  to:    this  was  the  April  18,  1779. 

source  of  Johnson's  misery  through-          4  The  whole  of  the  above  passage 
out  his  life  ;  all  he  did  was  by  fits  and      is  quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  482. 
starts,  and  he  had  no  genuine  im- 

to 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  29 

to  approach  the  altar  again  to  morrow.  Grant,  O  Lord,  that 
I  may  receive  the  Sacrament  with  such  resolutions  of  a  better 
life  as  may  by  thy  grace  be  effectual,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

48. 

April  21.  I  read  the  whole  Gospel  of  St.  John.  Then  sat 
up  till  the  22d. 

My  Purpose  is  from  this  time 
•/To  reject  or  expel  sensual  images,  and  idle  thoughts. 

To  provide  some  useful  amusement  for  leisure  time. 

To  avoid  Idleness. 

To  rise  early. 

To  study  a  proper  portion  of  every  day. 

To  Worship  God  diligently. 

To  read  the  Scriptures. 

To  let  no  week  pass  without  reading  some  part. 

To  write  down  my  observations. 

I  will  renew  my  resolutions  made  at  Tetty's  death. 

I  perceive  an  insensibility  and  heaviness  upon  me.  I  am  less 
than  commonly  oppressed  with  the  sense  of  sin,  and  less  affected 
with  the  shame  of  Idleness.  Yet  I  will  not  despair.  I  will  pray 
to  God  for  resolution,  and  will  endeavour  to  strengthen  my  faith 
in  Christ  by  commemorating  his  death. 

I  prayed  for  Tett. 

49. 

Ap.  22,  EASTER  DAY. 

Having  before  I  went  to  bed  composed  the  foregoing  meditation 
and  the  following  prayer,  I  tried  to  compose  myself  but  slept 
unquietly.  I  rose,  took  tea,  and  prayed  for  resolution  and 
perseverance.  Thought  on  Tetty,  dear  poor  Tetty,  with  my 
eyes  full. 

I  went  to  church,  came  in  at  the  first  of  the  Psalms x,  and 
endeavoured  to  attend  the  service  which  I  went  through  without 
perturbation.  After  sermon  I  recommended  Tetty  in  a  prayer 
by  herself,  and  my  Father,  Mother,  Brother,  and  Bathurst 2,  in 

1  All   his   resolutions    often — per-  had  died  of  fever  in  the  Havannah, 
haps  generally — failed  to  get  him  to  '  of  whom  he  hardly  ever  spoke  with- 
church  in  time.  out  tears  in  his   eyes,'   see  Life,  i. 

2  For  his  friend  Dr.  Bathurst,  who  190,  242,  and  Letters,  i.  32.    Accord- 

another 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


another.  I  did  it  only  once,  so  far  as  it  might  be  lawful  for 
me. 

I  then  prayed  for  resolution  and  perseverance  to  amend  my 
Life.  I  received  soon,  the  communicants  were  many.  At  the 
altar  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  ought  to  form  some  resolutions. 
I  resolved,  in  the  presence  of  God,  but  without  a  vow,  to  repel 
sinful  thoughts  to  study  eight  hours  daily,  and,  I  think,  to  go  to 
church  every  Sunday z,  and  read  the  Scriptures.  I  gave  a  shilling, 
and  seeing  a  poor  girl  at  the  Sacrament  in  a  bedgown2,  gave  her 
privately  a  crown,  though  I  saw  Hart's  hymns3  in  her  hand. 
I  prayed  earnestly  for  amendment,  and  repeated  my  prayer  at 
home.  Dined  with  Miss  W.4  went  to  Prayers  at  church  ;  went 
to  Davies's,  spent  the  evening  not  pleasantly.  Avoided  wine 
and  tempered  a  very  few  glasses  with  Sherbet 5.  Came  home, 
and  prayed. 

I  saw  at  the  Sacrament  a  man  meanly  dressed  whom  I  have 
always  seen  there  at  Easter  6. 


ing  to  Chetwood  (History  of  the 
Stage,  ed.  1749,  p.  41),  a  company  of 
players  went  to  Jamaica  in  1733. 
They  acted  the  Beggars'  Opera. 
Within  the  space  of  two  months  they 
buried  their  third  Polly. 

1  See  post,  where  he  records  on 
April   6,    1777:— 'I  have   this  year 
omitted    church   on   most   Sundays, 
intending  to  supply  the  deficience  in 
the   week.      So  that    I    owe   twelve 
attendances  on   worship.'     See   also 
Life,  i.  67,  n.  2 ;  iii.  401. 

2  Bedgown    is    not    in    Johnson's 
Dictionary.     Dr.  Murray  defines   it 
as     '  I.   A   woman's   night-gown   or 
night-dress.      2.   A   kind   of   jacket 
worn  by  women  of  the  working  class 
in  the  north.' 

3  Hymns    composed    on     Various 
Subjects.      By    J.    Hart.       London 

1759- 

In  the  Preface,  Hart  describes  his 
'  Experience  '  —  his  sins  and  *  the 
Clouds  of  Horror  with  which  he  was 
overwhelmed  till  Whitsunday  1757  ; 


when '  he  says,  '  I  happened  to  go  to 
the  Moravian  Chapel  in  Fetter  Lane, 
where  I  had  been  several  times 
before  ...  I  was  hardly  got  home, 
when  I  felt  myself  melting  away  into 
a  strange  Softness  of  Affection  .  .  . 
Thenceforth  I  enjoyed  sweet  Peace 
in  my  Soul.'  In  the  hymn  entitled 
The  Author's  own  Confession  (p.  40), 
he  says  : — 

*  I  strove  to  make  my  Flesh  decay 
With    foul    Disease    and    wasting 

Pain. 

I  strove  to  fling  my  Life  away, 
And    damn    my    Soul — but    strove 

in  vain.' 

This  Hymn-book  was  so  popular 
that  in  1811  it  reached  its  twentieth 
edition. 

4  Miss  Williams.     He  often  dined 
in  a  tavern,  though  he  always  took 
tea  with  her.     Life,  i.  421. 

5  Johnson  defines  Sherbet  as  '  the 
juice  of  lemons  or  oranges  mixed  with 
water  and  sugar.' 

6  Post,  p.  35. 

Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  31 


50. 

EASTER  DAY,  April  22,  1764,  at  3  m. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  created  and 
preserved  me,  have  pity  on  my  weakness  and  corruption. 
Deliver  me  from  habitual  wickedness  and  idleness,  enable  me 
to  purify  my  thoughts,  to  use  the  faculties  which  Thou  hast 
given  me  with  honest  diligence,  and  to  regulate  my  life  by  thy 
holy  word. 

Grant  me,  O  Lord,  good  purposes  and  steady  resolution,  that 
I  may  repent  my  sins,  and  amend  my  life.  Deliver  me  from  the 
distresses  of  vain  terrour,  and  enable  me  by  thy  Grace  to  will 
and  to  do  what  may  please  thee,  that  when  I  shall  be  called 
away  from  this  present  state  I  may  obtain  everlasting  happiness 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

51. 

Sept.  1 8,  1764,  about  6  evening. 

THIS  is  my  fifty-sixth  birth-day,  the  day  on  which  I  have 
concluded  fifty  five  years. 

I  have  outlived  many  friends.  I  have  felt  many  sorrows. 
I  have  made  few  improvements.  Since  my  resolution  formed 
last  Easter  I  have  made  no  advancement  in  knowledge  or  in 
goodness  ;  nor  do  I  recollect  that  I  have  endeavoured  it.  I  am 
dejected  but  not  hopeless. 

0  God  for  Jesus  Christ's  Christ's  sake  have  mercy  upon  me. 

52. 

7  in  the  evening. 

1  went  to  church  prayed  to  be  loosed  from  the  chain  of  my 
sins x. 

I  have  now  spent  fifty  five  years  in  resolving,  having  from  the 
earliest  time  almost  that  I  can  remember  been  forming  schemes 
of  a  better  life  2.  I  have  done  nothing,  the  need  of  doing  there- 

1  '  Though  we  be  tied  and  bound  Prescott,  the  historian,  made  reso- 
with  the  chain  of  our  sins,  yet  let  the  lutions  from  one  end  of  his  life  to 
pitifulness  of  thy  great  mercy  loose  the  other.     One  of  his  friends  writes 
us.'     Book  of  Common  Prayer.  of  him  : — '  The  practice,  I  apprehend, 

2  Johnson  was  but  fifty-five  years  must  have  reached  its  acme  about 
old,  so  that  he  began  resolving,  it  the  time  when  he  informed  me  one 
seems,  from  his  birth.  day  that   he   had  just  made  a  new 

fore 


32  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

fore  is  pressing,  since  the  time  of  doing  is  short.  O  God  grant 
me  to  resolve  aright,  and  to  keep  my  resolutions  for  Jesus  Christ's 
sake.  Amen  x. 

Haec  limina  vitae.  STAT.2 

I  resolve 

to  study  the  Scriptures.  I  hope  in  the  original  Languages. 
Six  hundred  and  forty  verses  every  Sunday  will  nearly  comprise 
the  Scriptures  in  a  year3. 

To  read  good  books.     To  study  Theology. 

to  treasure  in  my  mind  passages  for  recollection  4. 

to  rise  early.  Not  later  than  six  if  I  can  I  hope  sooner,  but 
as  soon  as  I  can  5. 

to  keep  a  journal  both  of  employment  and  of  expences.  to 
keep  accounts6. 

to  take  of  my  health  by  such  means  as  I  have  designed. 

to  set  down  at  night  some  plan  for  the  morrow. 

Last  year  I  prayed  on  my  birth-day  by  accommodating  the 
Morning  collect  for  Grace7,  putting  year  for  day.  This  I  did 
this  day. 

53. 

Sept.  f,  1764. 

O  God,  heavenly  Father,  who  desirest  not  the  death  of  a 
Sinner,  grant  that  I  may  turn  from  my  Wickedness  and  live. 

resolution,  which  was— since  he  found  membering  and  recollecting,  see  Life, 

he   could  not  keep  those  which  he  iv.  127,  n.  i. 

had   made    before— that    he    would  5  The  next  Easter  he  purposed  to 

never  make  another  resolution  as  long  rise  at  eight.     '  I  often  lye  till  two,' 

as  he  lived.'     Ticknor's  Life  of  Pres-  he  adds.     Post,  p.  33. 

cott,  Boston,  1864,  p.  17.  6  See  Life,  iv.  177,  where  he  said 

1  This  passage  is  quoted  in   the  of  a  lady : — '  Sir,  it  is  fit  she  should 
Life,  \.  483.  keep  an  account  because  her  husband 

2  Quis  tibi,  parve,  Deus  tarn  magni  wishes  it,  but  I  do  not  see  its  use'; 

pondera  fati  and  ib.  iv.  362  where  he  wrote  to 

Sorte  dedit?  tune  hoc  vix  prima  Langton  :— I  am  a  little  angry  at  you 

ad  limina  vitae  for  not  keeping  minutes  of  your  own 

Hoste  iaces  ?  acceptum    et    expensum,   and    think 

STATIUS,  Thebais,  v.  534.  a  little  time  might  be   spared  from 

3  For  his  plans  of  *  a  methodical  Aristophanes  for  the  resfamiliares! 
course  of  study  according  to  com-  7  In  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
potation,'  see  Life,  i.  72.  «  In   the   margin   he  has  written 

4  For  the  distinction  between  re-  'i8th.' 

Enable 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  33 

Enable  me  to  shake  off  all  impediments  of  lawful  action,  and  so 
to  order  my  life,  that  increase  of  days  may  produce  increase  of 
grace,  of  tranquillity  of  thought,  and  vigour  in  duty.  Grant  that 
my  resolves  may  be  effectual  to  a  holy  life,  and  a  happy  death, 
for  Jesus  Christs  sake.  Amen. 

To  morrow  I  purpose  to  regulate  my  room. 


54. 

EASTER  DAY,  Apr.  7,  1765,  about  3  in  the  morning. 

I  purpose  again  to  partake  of  the  blessed  Sacrament,  yet  when 
I  consider  how  vainly  I  have  hitherto  resolved  at  this  annual 
commemoration  of  my  Saviour's  deathe,  to  regulate  my  life  by 
his  laws,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  renew  my  resolutions.  Since 
the  last  Easter  I  have  reformed  no  evil  habits,  my  time  has 
been  unprofitably  spent,  and  seems  as  a  dream  that  has  left 
nothing  behind.  My  memory  grows  confused,  and  I  know  not 
how  the  days  pass  over  me. 

Good  Lord  deliver  me x. 

I  will  call  upon  God  to  morrow  for  repentance  and  amendment. 
O  heavenly  Father,  let  not  my  call  be  vain,  but  grant  me  to 
desire  what  may  please  thee,  and  fulfill  those  desires  for  Jesus 
Christs  sake.  Amen. 

My  resolutions,  which  God  perfect,  are, 

1.  to  avoid  loose  thoughts. 

2.  to  rise  at  eight  every  morning. 

I  hope  to  extend  these  purposes  to  other  duties,  but  it  is 
necessary  to  combat  evil  habits  singly.  I  purpose  to  rise  at 
eight  because  though  I  shall  not  yet  rise  early  it  will  be  much 
earlier  than  I  now  rise,  for  I  often  lye  till  two,  and  will  gain  me 

1  The  whole  of  this  entry  is  quoted  happen  in  the  year  1764,  or  the  hypo- 
in  the  Life,  i.  487.  chondriacal  fit  must  have  been  very 

Bos  well,  under  date  of  1764,  says  :  short ;  for  he  saw  him  in  the  spring, 

— '  About  this  time  Johnson  was  summer  and  winter  of  that  year,  and 

afflicted  with  a  very  severe  return  never  found  him  more  cheerful  or 

of  the  hypochondriack  disorder.'  Id.  conversible.'  Anderson's  Johnson,  ed. 

i.  483.  On  this  Percy  remarks  that  1815,  p.  300.  The  year  of  his  attack 

'  he  cannot  believe  this  could  possibly  was  probably  1766.  Life,  i.  521. 

VOL.  I.                                       D  much 


34  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

much  time,  and  tend  to  a  conquest  over  idleness,  and  give  time 
for  other  duties.     I  hope  to  rise  yet  earlier  *. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hatest  nothing  that 
thou  hast  made,  nor  desirest  the  Death  of  a  Sinner,  look  down 
with  mercy  upon  me,  and  grant  that  I  may  turn  from  my 
wickedness  and  live.  Forgive  the  days  and  years  which  I  have 
passed  in  folly,  idleness,  and  sin.  Fill  me  with  such  sorrow  for 
the  time  mispent,  that  I  may  amend  my  life  according  to  thy 
holy  word  ;  Strengthen  me  against  habitual  idleness,  and  enable 
me  to  direct  my  thoughts  to  the  performance  of  every  duty ; 
that  while  I  live  I  may  serve  thee  in  the  state  to  which  thou 
shalt  call  me,  and  at  last  by  a  holy  and  happy  death  be  de 
livered  from  the  struggles  and  sorrows  of  this  life,  and  obtain 
eternal  happiness  by  thy  mercy,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  Amen. 

0  God,  have  mercy  upon  me. 
At  church  I  purpose 

before  I  leave  the  pew  to  pray  the  occasional  prayer,  and 
read  my  resolutions 2. 

To  pray  for  Tetty  and  the  rest 3 

the  like  after  Communion. 

at  intervals  to  use  the  collects  of  Fourth  after  Trinity,  and 
First  and  Fourth  after  Epiphany  and  to  meditate. 

After  church,  3  p.m. 

This  was  done,  as  I  purposed,  but  with  some  distraction. 
I  came  in  at  the  Psalms4,  and  could  not  well  hear.  I  renewed 
my  resolutions  at  the  altar.  God  perfect  them.  When  I  came 
home  I  prayed,  and  have  hope,  grant  O  Lord  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ  that  my  hope  may  not  be  in  vain. 

1  *  No  man  (said  Johnson)  practises     Life  of  W.    Wilberforce,   ed.  1838, 
so  well  as  he  writes.     I  have  all  my     ii.  179. 

life  long  been  lying  till  noon;   yet  2  Perhaps    the    resolutions    made 

1  ^tell  all  young  men,  and  tell  them  when  his  wife  lay  dead  before  him. 

with  great  sincerity,  that  nobody  who  Ante,  pp.  n,  25. 

does  not  rise  early  will  ever  do  any  3  The    previous    Easter    he    had 

good.'  Ib.  y.  210.     'Johnson,  Langton  joined  with  her  his  father,  mother, 

told  us,  did  not  get  up  till  some  one  brother,  and  Bathurst.    Ante,  p.  29. 

called  to  rouse  him,  whether  it  was  4  Ante,  p.  29,  n.  I. 
ten,  eleven,  twelve,  or  one  o'clock.' 

I  invited 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  35 

I  invited  home  with  me  the  man  whose  pious  behaviour  I  had 
for  several  years  observed  on  this  day,  and  found  him  a  kind  of 
Methodist,  full  of  texts,  but  ill-instructed  *.  I  talked  to  him 
with  temper,  and  offered  him  twice  wine,  which  he  refused. 
I  suffered  him  to  go  without  the  dinner  which  I  had  purposed 
to  give  him.  I  thought  this  day  that  there  was  something 
irregular  and  particular2  in  his  look  and  gesture,  but  having 
intended  to  invite  him  to  acquaintance,  and  having  a  fit  oppor 
tunity  by  rinding  him  near  my  own  seat  after  I  had  missed  him, 
I  did  what  I  at  first  designed,  and  am  sorry  to  have  been  so 
much  disappointed.  Let  me  not  be  prejudiced  hereafter  against 
the  appearance  of  piety  in  mean  persons,  who,  with  indeterminate 
notions,  and  perverse  or  inelegant  conversation  perhaps  are  doing 
all  that  they  can. 

At  night  I  used  the  occasional  prayer  with  proper  collects. 

55. 

Jtdy  2.  I  paid  Mr.  Simpson  ten  guineas,  which  he  had  formerly 
lent  me  in  my  necessity  and  for  which  Tetty  expressed  her 
gratitude. 

July  8.  I  lent  Mr.  Simpson  ten  guineas  more. 

July   1 6.    I   received   seventy-five   pounds.     Lent  Mr.  Davis 

twenty-five 3. 

56. 

Sept.  26,  1765. 

Before  the  Study  of  Law 4. 

Almighty  God,  the  Giver  of  wisdom,  without  whose  help 
resolutions  are  vain,  without  whose  blessing  study  is  ineffectual, 
enable  me,  if  it  be  thy  will,  to  attain  such  knowledge  as  may 
qualify  me  to  direct  the  doubtful,  and  instruct  the  ignorant,  to 

1  Ante,  p.  30.  a  barrister-at-law,  of  good  parts,  but 

2  Johnson   defines   'particular'   in  who  fell  into  a  dissipated  course  of 
one   of    its   significations  as   'Odd;  life.'    Ib.  iii.  28.    See  ib.  i.  346,  Piozzi's 
having  something  that  eminently  dis-  Anecdotes,   p.    120,   and    Hayward's 
tinguishes  him  from  others.     This  is  Piozzi,  1.322,  for  an  account  of  his  im- 
commonly  used  in   a  sense  of  con-  providence.   The  money  received  was 
tempt.'     Richardson  often   uses  the  one  quarter's  pension.    Life,  i.  376. 
word  without  any  sense  of  contempt.         4  At  an  earlier  time  of  his  life  he 

3  Life,   i.    488.      Joseph   Simpson  had  wished  to  practise  in  Doctors' 
was  'a  schoolfellow  of  Dr.  Johnson's,  Commons.    Ib.  i.  134. 

D  2,  prevent 


36  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

prevent  wrongs,  and  terminate  contentions ;  and  grant  that 
I  may  use  that  knowledge  which  I  shall  attain,  to  thy  glory  and 
my  own  salvation,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

57. 

Oct.  1765. 

At  church,  Oct.  —65  '. 

To  avoid  all  singularity 2 ;  Bonaventura 3. 

To  come  in  before  service,  and  compose  my  mind  by  medita 
tion,  or  by  reading  some  portions  of  scripture.  Tetty. 

If  I  can  hear  the  sermon,  to  attend  it,  unless  attention  be 
more  troublesome  than  useful. 

To  consider  the  act  of  prayer  as  a  reposal  of  myself  upon  God, 
and  a  resignation  of  all  into  his  holy  hand. 

58. 

Engaging  in  Politicks  with  H— n  4. 

Nov.  1765. 

Almighty  God,  who  art  the  Giver  of  all  Wisdom,  enlighten 
my  understanding  with  knowledge  of  right,  and  govern  my  will 
by  thy  laws,  that  no  deceit  may  mislead  me,  nor  temptation 
corrupt  me,  that  I  may  always  endeavour  to  do  good,  and  to 
hinder  evil.  Amidst  all  the  hopes  and  fears  of  this  world,  take 
not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me,  but  grant  that  my  thoughts  may 
be  fixed  on  thee,  and  that  I  may  finally  attain  everlasting  happi 
ness,  for  Jesus  Christs  sake.  Amen. 

Endorsed.     Prayer  on  Politicks,  Nov.  —  65,  No.  5 1  E. 

59. 

Jan.  i,  [1766]  after  two  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  I  again  appear  in  thy 
presence  the  wretched  mispender  of  another  year  which  thy 
mercy  has  allowed  me.  O  Lord  let  me  not  sink  into  total 
depravity,  look  down  upon  me,  and  rescue  me  at  last  from 

1  Life,  \.  500.  person,  who  for  his  piety  was  named 

a  For  Johnson's  dislike  of  singu-     the  Seraphic  Doctor.1      BOSWELL. 
larity,  see  ib.  ii.  74.  4  William  Gerard  Hamilton.     For 

'He  was  probably  proposing  to     my  note  on  the   connexion  between 
himself  the  model  of  this   excellent     him  and  Johnson,  see  Life,  i.  518. 

the 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  37 

the  captivity  of  Sin T.  Impart  to  me  good  resolutions,  and 
give  me  strength  and  perseverance  to  perform  them.  Take 
not  from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  grant  that  I  may  redeem 
the  time  lost,  and  that  by  temperance  and  diligence,  by  sincere 
repentance  and  faithful  Obedience  I  may  finally  obtain  ever 
lasting  happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

60. 

March  3.  I  have  never,  I  thank  God,  since  new  year's  day 
deviated  from  the  practice  of  rising.  In  this  practice  I  persisted 
till  I  went  to  Mr.  Thrale's  some  time  before  Midsummer :  the 
irregularity  of  that  family  broke  my  habit  of  rising.  I  was 
there  till  after  Michaelmas 2. 

61. 

March  7,  1766. 

ENTR1NG  N.  M.   [NOVUM   MUSEUM 3.] 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  graciously 
supplied  me  with  new  conveniences  for  study,  grant  that  I  may 
use  thy  gifts  to  thy  glory.  Forgive  me  the  time  mispent, 
relieve  my  perplexities,  strengthen  my  resolution,  and  enable 
me  to  do  my  duty  with  vigour  and  constancy ;  and  when  the 
fears  and  hopes,  the  pains  and  pleasures  of  this  life  shall  have 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  397.  pp.  40,  48.     It  was  therefore  in  the 

2  Hawkins's  Johnson,    p.    458  n.  spring  of  1 766  that  he  made  the  first 
This  entry  was,  I  believe,  made  at  part  of  the  entry.     His  visit  to  Mr. 
two  different  times.     On    March  9,  Thrale's  was  paid  in  the  following 
1766,  Johnson  wrote  to  Langton: —  summer.     Post,  p.  43. 

'  Burke  is  a  great  man  by  nature,  and  3  In  the  letter  to  Langton,  quoted 

is  expected  soon  to  attain  civil  great-  in  the  last  note,  he  says  : — *  I  wish 

ness.     I  am  grown  greater  too,  for  you  were  in  my  new  study;    I  am 

I  have  maintained  the  newspapers  now  writing  the   first   letter    in    it. 

these    many  weeks  ;    and   what    is  I  think  it  looks  very  pretty  about  me.' 

greater    still,    I    have    risen    every  Hawkins  describes  it  as  'an  upper 

morning  since   New-year's  day,  at  room,  which  had  the  advantages  of 

about  eight ;  when  I  was  up,  I  have  a  good  light  and  free  air.'   Hawkins's 

indeed  done  but  little  ;  yet  it  is  no  Johnson,  p.  452.  Johnson  had  moved 

slight  advancement  to  obtain  for  so  into 'a  good  house  in  Johnson's  Court, 

many  hours  more,  the  consciousness  Fleet   Street,'   in  the  latter  part  of 

of  being.'    Life,  ii.  16.    See  also  post,  1765.     Life,  ii.  5  ;  iii.  406. 

an 


38  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

an  end,  receive  me  to  everlasting  happiness,  for  the  sake   of 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 

Endorsed  Novum  Museum,  March  7.  — 66. 

Transcribed,  June  26,  — 68. 


Good  Friday,  March  28,  i'j66I.  On  the  night  before  I  used 
proper  Collects,  and  prayed  when  I  arose  in  the  morning.  I  had 
all  the  week  an  awe  upon  me,  not  thinking  on  Passion  week  till 
I  looked  in  the  almanack 2.  I  have  wholly  forbone  M  [?  meat] 
and  wines,  except  one  glass  on  Sunday  night. 

In  the  morning  I  rose,  and  drank  very  small  tea3  without 
milk,  and  had  nothing  more  that  day. 

This  was  the  day  on  which  Tetty  died.  I  did  not  mingle 
much  men  [?  mention]  of  her  with  the  devotions  of  this  day, 
because  it  is  dedicated  to  more  holy  subjects.  I  mentioned  her 
at  church,  and  prayed  once  solemnly  at  home.  I  was  twice 
at  church,  and  went  through  the  prayers  without  perturbation, 
but  heard  the  sermons  imperfectly.  I  came  in  both  times  at 
the  second  lesson,  not  hearing  the  bell. 

When  I  came  home  I  read  the  Psalms  for  the  day,  and  one 
sermon  in  Clark4.  Scruples  distract  me,  but  at  church  I  had 
hopes  to  conquer  them 5. 

1  From  the  autograph  record  by  his  name  in  his  Dictionary ' ;  never- 
Johnson  of  Good  Friday,  March  28,  theless  he  recommended  them  on  his 
Easter  Sunday, March  30, and  May  4,  death-bed,  'because  he  is  fullest  on 
and    the    copy    of    the    record    of  the  propitiatory  sacrifice.'     Life,  iii. 
Saturday,    March   29,   preserved   in  248;    iv.    416.      Clarke's    Scripture 
the  Bodleian  Library  (Select  Auto-  Doctrine  of  the   Trinity  had  been 
graphs,   Montagu).      These    entries  condemned  by  the  Lower  House  of 
are    given   in   Appendix   A    to    my  Convocation.  SmottetfsHist.o/Eng. 
edition  of  the  Life,  ii.  476.  ii.  303. 

2  Apparently    he    had    *  omitted          5  Johnson  warned  Boswell  against 
church '  of  late.  scruples.     '  I  am  afraid  of  scruples,' 

3  This  use  of  small  applied  to  tea  he  wrote.    Life,   ii.  421.     'Let  me 
on   the  analogy  of  small-beer  was,  warn    you    very    earnestly    against 
I  think,  uncommon.  scruples.3     Ib.  ii.  423.     « I   am  no 

4  Dr.    Samuel    Clarke,   of   whose  friend  to  scruples.'     Ib.  v.  62.     On 
sermons,    though    he  was   '  a  con-  his  death-bed,   he  said :    '  Scruples 
demned  heretic  as  to  the  doctrine  of  made  many  men  miserable,  but  few 
the  Trinity/ Johnson  thought  highly.  men  good.'    Croker's  Boswell,  p.  844. 
'  He  had  made  it  a  rule  not  to  admit  See  Post,  p.  93. 

I  bore 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  39 

I  bore  abstinence  this  day  not  well,  being  at  night  insupport- 
ably  heavy,  but  as  fasting  does  not  produce  sleepyness,  I  had 
perhaps  rested  ill  the  night  before.  I  prayed  in  my  study  for 
the  day,  and  prayed  again  in  my  chamber.  I  went  to  bed  very 
early — before  eleven. 

After  church  I  selected  collects  for  the  Sacraments. 

Finding  myself  upon  recollection  very  ignorant  of  religion, 
I  formed  a  purpose  of  studying  it. 

I  went  down  and  sat  to  tea,  but  was  too  heavy  to  converse. 

63. 

Saturday,  29.  I  rose  at  the  time  now  usual,  not  fully  re 
freshed.  Went  to  tea.  A  sudden  thought  of  restraint  hindered 
me.  I  drank  but  one  dish.  Took  a  purge  for  my  health. 
Still  uneasy.  Prayed,  and  went  to  dinner.  Dined  sparingly 
on  fish  [added  in  different  ink]  about  four.  Went  to  Simpson x. 
Was  driven  home  by  my  physick.  Drank  tea,  and  am  much 
refreshed.  I  believe  that  if  I  had  drank  tea  again  yesterday, 
I  had  escaped  the  heaviness  of  the  evening.  Fasting  that 
produces  inability  is  no  duty,  but  I  was  unwilling  to  do  less 
than  formerly. 

I  had  lived  more  abstemiously  than  is  usual  the  whole  week, 
and  taken  physick  twice,  which  together  made  the  fast  more 
uneasy. 

Thus  much  I  have  written  medically,  to  show  that  he  who 
can  fast  long  must  have  lived  plentifully 2. 

64. 

Saturday,  March  29,  1766.  I  was  yesterday  very  heavy. 
I  do  not  feel  myself  to-day  so  much  impressed  with  awe  of 
the  approaching  mystery.  I  had  this  day  a  doubt,  like  Baxter, 
of  my  state,  and  found  that  my  faith,  though  weak,  was  yet 
faith 3.  O  God  !  strengthen  it. 

1  Ante,  p.  35.  3  Baxter  describes  the  doubts  of 

2  'He  told   me,'  writes   Boswell,  his  own   salvation  which  exercised 
'  that  he  had  fasted  two  days  without  him  many  years.      Reliquiae  Bax- 
inconvenience.'      Life,    i.   468  ;     iii.  terianae,  ed.  1696,  p.  6. 

306 ;  v.  284. 

Since 


40  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

Since  the  last  reception  of  the  sacrament  I  hope  I  have  no 
otherwise  grown  worse  than  as  continuance  in  sin  makes  the 
sinner's  condition  more  dangerous. 

Since  last  New  Year's  Eve  I  have  risen  every  morning  by 
eight,  at  least  not  after  nine,  which  is  more  superiority  over 
my  habits  than  I  have  ever  before  been  able  to  obtain.  Scruples 
still  distress  me.  My  resolution,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  is 
to  contend  with  them,  and,  if  I  can,  to  conquer  them. 
My  resolutions  are — 

To  conquer  scruples. 

To  read  the  Bible  this  year. 

To  try  to  rise  more  early. 

To  study  Divinity. 

To  live  methodically. 

To  oppose  idleness. 

To  frequent  Divine  worship. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father !  before  whom  I  now 
appear  laden  with  the  sins  of  another  year,  suffer  me  yet  again 
to  call  upon  Thee  for  pardon  and  peace. 

0  God !  grant  me  repentance,  grant  me  reformation.     Grant 
that  I  may  be  no  longer  distracted  with  doubts,  and  harassed 
with  vain  terrors.     Grant  that  I  may  no  longer  linger  in  per 
plexity,  nor  waste  in  idleness  that  life  which  Thou  hast  given 
and  preserved.     Grant  that  I  may  serve  Thee  in  firm  faith  and 
diligent  endeavour,  and  that  I  may  discharge  the  duties  of  my 
calling  with  tranquillity  and  constancy.     Take  not,  O  God,  Thy 
holy  Spirit  from  me  :   but  grant  that  I  may  so  direct  my  life  by 
Thy  holy  laws,  as  that,  when  Thou  shalt  call  me  hence,  I  may 
pass  by  a  holy  and  happy  death  to  a  life  of  everlasting  and 
unchangeable   joy,   for    the    sake    of    Jesus    Christ   our   Lord. 
Amen. 

1  went  to  bed  (at)  one  or  later ;    but  did  not  sleep,  tho'    I 
knew  not  why. 

65. 

Easter  Day,  March  30,  1766.  I  rose  in  the  morning.  Prayed. 
Took  my  prayer  book  to  tea  ;  drank  tea  ;  planned  my  devotion 
for  the  church.  I  think  prayed  again.  Went  to  church,  was 

early 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  41 

early.  Went  through  the  prayers  with  fixed  attention.  Could 
not  hear  the  sermon.  After  sermon,  applied  myself  to  devotion. 
Troubled  with  Baxter's  scruple,  which  was  quieted  as  I  re 
turned  home.  It  occurred  to  me  that  the  scruple  itself  was  its 
own  confutation x. 

I  used  the  prayer  against  scruples  in  the  foregoing  page  in 
the  pew,  and  commended  (so  far  as  it  was  lawful)  Tetty,  dear 
Tetty,  in  a  prayer  by  herself,  then  my  other  friends.  What 
collects  I  do  not  exactly  remember.  I  gave  a  shilling.  I  then 
went  towards  the  altar  that  I  might  hear  the  service.  The 
communicants  were  more  than  I  ever  saw.  I  kept  back  ;  used 
again  the  foregoing  prayer ;  again  commended  Tetty,  and  lifted 
up  my  heart  for  the  rest.  I  prayed  in  the  collect  for  the 
fourteen  S.  after  Trinity  for  encrease  of  Faith,  Hope,  and 
Charity,  and  deliverance  from  scruples;  this  deliverance  was 
the  chief  subject  of  my  prayers.  O  God,  hear  me.  I  am  now 
to  try  to  conquer  them.  After  reception  I  repeated  my  petition, 
and  again  when  I  came  home.  My  dinner  made  me  a  little 
peevish ;  not  much 2.  After  dinner  I  retired,  and  read  in  an 
hour  and  a  half  the  seven  first  chapters  of  St.  Matthew  in  Greek. 
Glory  be  to  God.  God  grant  me  to  proceed  and  improve,  for 
Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

I  went  to  Evening  Prayers,  and  was  undisturbed.  At  church 
in  the  morning  it  occurred  to  me  to  consider  about  example 
of  good  any  of  my  friends  had  set  me.  This  is  proper,  in  order 
to  the  thanks  returned  for  their  good  examples. 

My  attainment  of  rising3  gives  me  comfort  and  hope.  O  God, 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  bless  me.  Amen. 

After  church,  before  and  after  dinner,  I  read  Rotheram  on 
Faith4. 

1  '  He   cou'd  raise  scruples   dark      heartily,'  recorded  one  day  that  he 

and  nice,  was  '  snappish  on  fasting.'    Life,  iii. 

And  after  solve  'em  in  at  rice;  171. 

As  if  Divinity  had  catch'd  3  His  early  rising.    Ante,  p.  37. 

The    itch    on    purpose   to    be  4  On  the  Origin  of  Faith,  A  Sermon 

scratch'd.'  preached  before   the   University  of 

Hudibras,  i.  I.  164.  Oxford  in  1761.   Nichols's  Lit.  Anec. 

2  Dr.   Rutty,  '  at  whose  self-con-  viii.  193.    Rotheram  was  a  Fellow  of 
demning  minutes  Johnson  laughed  University  College.     In  1767  he  was 

After 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


After  evening  prayer  I  retired,  and  wrote  this  account. 

I  then  repeated  the  prayer  of  the  day,  with  collects,  and  my 
prayer  for  night,  and  went  down  to  supper  at  near  ten. 

May  4,  —  66.  I  have  read  since  the  noon  of  Easter  day  the 
Gospels  of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  in  Greek. 

I  have  read  Xenophon's  Cyropaedia. 

66. 

Sept.  1  8,  1766,  at  Streatham. 

I  have  this  day  completed  my  fifty  seventh  year.  O  Lord, 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  granted  me 
to  prolong  my  life  to  another  year,  look  down  upon  me  with 
pity.  Let  not  my  manifold  sins  and  negligences  avert  from 
me  thy  fatherly  regard.  Enlighten  my  mind  that  I  may  know 
my  duty  that  I  may  perform  it,  strengthen  my  resolution. 
Let  not  another  year  be  lost  in  vain  deliberations  ;  let  me 
remember,  that  of  the  short  life  of  man,  a  great  part  is  already 
past,  in  sinfulness  and  sloth.  Deliver  me,  gracious  Lord,  from 
the  bondage  of  evil  customs,  and  take  not  from  me  thy  Holy 
Spirit  ;  but  enable  me  so  to  spend  my  remaining  days,  that, 
by  performing  thy  will  I  may  promote  thy  glory,  and  grant 
that  after  the  troubles  and  disappointments  of  this  mortal  state 
I  may  obtain  everlasting  happiness  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  Amen. 
Added, 

The  Fourteenth  S.  after  Tr. 

The  Morning  collect. 

The  beginning  of  this  (day)  year  x. 
Purposes, 

To  keep  a  journal,     to  begin  this  day. 

succeeded  in  his  Fellowship  by  John  This  latter  prayer  he  '  accommodated' 

Scott,  then  a  youth  of  sixteen,  after-  (post,  p.  54)  by  altering  day  into  year 

wards  Earl  of  Eldon.     Twiss's  Life  and  us  into  me.    It  begins  :  '  O  Lord, 

of  Lord  Eldon,  ed.  1846,  i.  40.  our  heavenly  Father,  Almighty  and 

1  He   added  the   Collect   for   the  everlasting    God,   who    hast    safely 

fourteenth  Sunday  after  Trinity,  and  brought  us  to  the  beginning  of  this 

the  third  Collect  at  Morning  Prayer  day.' 
in   the   Book  of   Common    Prayer. 

To 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  43 

To  spend  four  hours  every  day  in  study,  and  as  much  more  as 
I  can. 

To  read  a  portion  of  the  Scriptures  in  Greek  every  Sunday. 

To  rise  at  eight. 

Oct.  3,  — 66.     Of  all  this  I  have  done  nothing. 

I  returned  from  Streatham,  Oct.  i,  — 66,  having  lived  there 
more  than  three  months  z. 

67. 

Jan.  i,  1767,  ima  mane  scripsi. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  in  whose  hand  are  life 
and  death,  as  thou  hast  suffered  me  to  see  the  beginning  of 
another  year,  grant,  I  beseech  thee,  that  another  year  may  not 
be  lost  in  Idleness,  or  squandered  in  unprofitable  employment. 
Let  not  sin  prevail  on  the  remaining  part  of  life,  and  take  not 
from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  as  every  day  brings  me  nearer 
to  my  end,  let  every  day  contribute  to  make  my  end  holy  and 
happy.  Enable  me  O  Lord,  to  use  all  enjoyments  with  due 
temperance,  preserve  me  from  unseasonable  and  immoderate 
sleep,  and  enable  me  to  run  with  diligence  the  race  that  is 
set  before  me,  that,  after  the  troubles  of  this  life,  I  may  obtain 
everlasting  happiness,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

68. 

August  2,  1767. 

I  have  been  disturbed  and  unsettled  for  a  long  time,  and  have 
been  without  resolution  to  apply  to  study  or  to  business,  being 
hindered  by  sudden  snatches 2. 

I  have  for  some  days  forborn  wine  and  suppers.  Abstinence 
is  not  easily  practised  in  another's  house 3 ;  but  I  think  it  fit 
to  try. 

I  was  extremely  perturbed  in  the  night,  but  have  had  this 
day  (9.24  p.m.)  more  ease  than  I  expected.  D.  gr.4.  Perhaps 

1  For  his  residence  at  Streatham,  or  interrupted  action  j  a  short  fit. 
see  Life,  i.  490-6,  520.  3  He  was  staying  at  Lichfield  in 

2  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  44.   John-  his  step-daughter's  house.    Letters, 
son    defines   snatch    in    its    second  i.  128. 

signification  as  a  short  fit  of  vigorous          *  Deo  gratias. 
action^  and  in  its  fourth  as  a  broken 

this 


44  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

this  may  be  such  a  sudden  relief  as  I  once  had  by  a  good  night's 
rest  in  Fetter  lane  x. 

The  shortness  of  the  time  which  the  common  order  of  nature 
allows  me  to  expect  is  very  frequently  upon  my  mind.  God  grant 
that  it  may  profit  me. 

69. 

Ait-gust  17. 

From  that  time,  by  abstinence,  I  have  had  more  ease.  I  have 
read  five  books  of  Homer2,  and  hope  to  end  the  sixth  to-night. 
I  have  given  Mrs.  Le  Clerc  [?]  a  guinea. 

By  abstinence  from  wine  and  suppers  I  obtained  sudden  and 
great  relief,  and  had  freedom  of  mind  restored  to  me,  which 
I  have  wanted  for  all  this  year,  without  being  able  to  find  any 
means  of  obtaining  it. 

70. 

August  17,  1767. 

I  am  now  about  to  receive  with  my  old  friend  Kitty 
Chambers3  the  sacrament,  preparatory  to  her  death.  Grant, 

0  God,  that  it  may   fit   me.     I   purpose   temperance    for   my 
resolution.     O    God,  enable  me  to   keep   my   purpose   to   thy 
glory. 

5.32  p.m.    I  have  communicated  with  Kitty,  and  kissed  her. 

1  was   for   some  time  distracted  but  at  last  more  composed. 
I  commended  my  friends  and  Kitty.     Lucy  and  I  were  much 
affected.     Kitty  is,  I  think,  going  to  heaven. 


t,  under  April  6,  1777,  for  a  sort  of  contest  between  our  chair- 

two  other  good  nights.     He  lodged  men  and   some  persons  who   were 

in  Fetter  Lane  some  time  between  coming  up  Fleet  Street,  whether  they 

1  741  and  1749.  Life,  Hi.  406  n.   Lord  should  first  pass  Fleet  Street,  or  we 

Eldon,  writing  of  the  year  1766,  when  in  our  chair   first  get  out  of  Fleet 

he  came  from  Newcastle  to  London  Street    into    Fetter    Lane.     In    the 

on  his   way  to    Oxford,   says    '  my  struggle  the  sedan-chair  was  overset 

brother,  now  Lord  Stowell,  met  me  with  us  in  it.'   Twiss's  Life  of  Eldon, 

at  the  White  Horse  in  Fetter  Lane,  ed.  1846,  i.  39. 

Holborn,    then    the    great    Oxford  2   He    never    read    the    Odyssey 

house,  as  I  was  told.     He  took  me  through  in  the  original.     Windham's 

to  see  the  play  at  Drury  Lane.  When  Diary,  p.  17. 

we  came  out  of  the  house  it  rained  3  His  mother's  servant.    Johnson 

hard.    There  were  then  few  hackney  had  allowed  her  to  stay  on  in  his 

coaches,  and  we  got  both  into  one  house   at   Lichfield.    Letters,  i.  76, 

sedan-chair.     Turning  out  of  Fleet  82-6,  125. 
Street   into   Fetter  Lane  there  was 

O  God, 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  45 

O  God,  grant  that  I  may  practise  such  temperance  in  Meat, 
Drink,  and  Sleep,  and  all  bodily  enjoyments,  as  may  fit  me 
for  the  duties  to  which  thou  shalt  call  me,  and  by  thy  blessing 
procure  me  freedom  of  thought  and  quietness  of  mind,  that 
I  may  so  serve  Thee  in  this  short  and  frail  life,  that  I  may 
be  received  by  Thee  at  my  death  to  everlasting  happiness. 
Take  not  O  Lord  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me,  deliver  me  not 
up  to  vain  fears,  but  have  mercy  on  me,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

O  God  who  desirest  not  the  Death,  &c. 

O  Lord  grant  us  encrease — 

O  God, — pardon  and  Peace. 

0  God  who  knowest  our  necessities x. 
Our  Father. 

71. 

Oct.  1 8,  1767,  Sunday. 

Yesterday,  Oct.  17,  at  about  ten  in  the  morning  I  took  my 
leave  for  ever2  of  my  dear  old  friend  Catherine  Chambers, 
who  came  to  live  with  my  mother  about  1724,  and  has  been 
but  little  parted  from  us  since.  She  buried  my  Father,  my 
Brother,  and  my  Mother.  She  is  now  fifty-eight  years  old. 

1  desired  all  to  withdraw,  then   told  her  that  we   were   to 
part  for  ever,  that  as   Christians  we  should  part  with  prayer, 
and  that  I  would,  if  she  was  willing  say  a  short  prayer  beside 
her.     She  expressed  great  desire  to  hear  me,  held  up  her  poor 
hands,  as  she  lay  in  bed,  with  great  fervour,  while  I  prayed 
kneeling  by  her,  nearly  in  the  following  words  : 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  whose  loving-kindness  is 
over  all  thy  works,  behold,  visit,  and  relieve  this  thy  Servant, 
who  is  grieved  with  sickness.  Grant  that  the  sense  of  her  weak 
ness  may  add  strength  to  her  faith,  and  seriousness  to  her 
Repentance.  And  grant  that  by  the  help  of  thy  Holy  Spirit 
after  the  pains  and  labours  of  this  short  life,  we  may  all  obtain 

1  He  has  apparently  in  mind  the      the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
Absolution  and  the  Collects  for  the          2  He  was   returning    to   London, 
fourteenth  and  twenty-first  Sundays      whence  he  dates  a  letter  on  Oct.  24. 
after  Trinity  and  the  last  Collect  but      Life,  ii.  30. 
one  in  the  Communion  Service  in 

everlasting 


46  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

everlasting  happiness  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  for  whose 
sake  hear  our  prayers.     Amen.     Our  Father. 

I  then  kissed  her.  She  told  me  that  to  part  was  the  greatest 
pain  that  she  had  ever  felt,  and  that  she  hoped  we  should  meet 
again  in  a  better  place.  I  expressed  with  swelled  eyes  and  great 
emotion  of  tenderness  the  same  hopes.  We  kissed,  and  parted. 
I  humbly  hope,  to  meet  again,  and  to  part  no  more  *. 

72. 

BED-TIME. 

Lent  2*,  [1768.] 

Almighty  God,  who  seest  that  I  have  no  power  of  myself  to 
help  myself ;  keep  me  both  outwardly  in  my  body,  and  inwardly 
in  my  soul,  that  I  may  be  defended  from  all  adversities  that  may 
happen  to  the  body,  and  from  all  evil  thoughts  which  may 
assault  and  hurt  the  soul,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

This  prayer  may  be  said  before  or  after  the  entrance  into  bed, 
as  a  preparative  for  sleep. 

When  I  transcribed  this  Prayer,  it  was  my  purpose  to  have 
made  this  book 3  a  Collection. 

73. 

SCRUPLES. 

0  Lord,  who  wouldst  that  all  men  should  be  saved,  and  who 
knowest  that  without  thy  grace  we  can  do  nothing  acceptable  to 
thee,  have  mercy  upon  me.    Enable  me  to  break  the  chain  of  my 
sins,   to   reject    sensuality   in    thought,   and    to   overcome   and 
suppress   vain  scruples ;    and   to  use   such   diligence  in  lawful 
employment  as  may  enable  me  to  support  myself  and  do  good 
to  others.     O  Lord,  forgive  me  the  time  lost  in  idleness ;  pardon 
the  sins  which  I  have  committed,  and  grant  that  I  may  redeem 
the  time  misspent,  and  be  reconciled  to  thee  by  true  repentance, 
that  I  may  live  and  die  in  peace,  and  be  received  to  everlasting 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  43.  for  the  Second  Sunday  in  Lent. 

8  The  following  prayer,  which  is  3  A   parchment   book    containing 

not  in  the  Pembroke  College  MSS.,      such  of  these  Prayers  as  are  marked 
is  an '  accommodation '  of  the  Collect      transcribed.     Note  by  G.  Strahan. 

happiness 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  47 

happiness.     Take  not  from  me,  O  Lord,  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  let 
me  have  support  and  comfort  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 

Transc.  June  26,  1768.  Of  this  prayer  there  is  no  date,  nor 
can  I  conjecture  when  it  was  composed  x. 

74. 
STUDY  OF  TONGUES. 

Almighty  God,  giver  of  all  knowledge,  enable  me  so  to  pursue 
the  study  of  tongues,  that  I  may  promote  thy  glory  and  my  own. 
salvation. 

Bless  my  endeavours,  as  shall  seem  best  unto  Thee  ;  and  if  it 
shall  please  Thee  to  grant  me  the  attainment  of  my  purpose, 
preserve  me  from  sinful  pride ;  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from 
me,  but  give  me  a  pure  heart  and  humble  mind,  through  Jesus 
Christ.  Amen. 

Of  this  Prayer  there  is  no  date,  nor  can  I  tell  when  it  was 
written  ;  but  I  think  it  was  in  Gough-square,  after  the  Dictionary 
was  ended 2.  I  did  not  study  what  I  then  intended. 

Transcribed  June  26,  1768. 

75. 

July  26,  1768.  I  shaved  my  nail  by  accident  in  whetting  the 
knife,  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  from  the  bottom,  and  about 
a  fourth  from  the  top.  This  I  measure  that  I  may  know  the 
growth  of  nails  ;  the  whole  is  about  five  eighths  of  an  inch  3. 

76. 

Sept.  1 8,  1768,  at  night. 

Townmalling,  in  Kent*. 

I  have  now  begun  the  sixtieth  year  of  my  life.  How  the  last 
year  has  past  I  am  unwilling  to  terrify  myself  with  thinking. 

1  Croker's.&me/^ed.  i844,x.  130.  Brooke,    'an    eminent    attorney-at- 

2  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pern-  law.'     '  His  house,'  Johnson  wrote, 
broke    College    MSS.       See    Ante,  '  is  one  of  my  favourite  places.     His 
p.  17,  for  his  prayer  '  on  the  Study  water  is  very  commodious,  and  the 
of  Philosophy  as  an  Instrument  of  whole  place  has  the  true  appearance 
Living,'  made  after  the  Dictionary  of  a  little  country  town.'     Letters,  ii. 
was  ended.  23.     '  His  water '  was,  no  doubt, '  the 

3  Life,  iii.  398.  square  canals  which  drop  into  one 

4  He  was  staying  with  Mr.  Francis  another.'    Ib.  n.  2. 

This 


48  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

This  day  has  been  past  in  great  perturbation,  I  was  distracted  at 
church  in  an  uncommon  degree,  and  my  distress  has  had  very 
little  intermission.  I  have  found  myself  somewhat  relieved  by 
reading,  which  I  therefore  intend  to  practise  when  I  am  able. 

This  day  it  came  into  my  mind  to  write  the  history  of  my 
melancholy.  On  this  I  purpose  to  deliberate.  I  know  not 
whether  it  may  not  too  much  disturb  me-1. 

I  this  day  read  a  great  part  of  Pascal's  Life 2. 

0  Lord,  who  hast  safely  brought  me,  &c.3 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  Creator  and  Preserver  of 
mankind,  look  down  with  pity  upon  my  troubles  and  maladies. 
Heal  my  body,  strengthen  my  mind,  compose  my  distraction, 
calm  my  inquietude,  and  relieve  my  terrours,  that  if  it  please 
thee,  I  may  run  the  race  that  is  set  before  me  with  peace 
patience  constancy  and  confidence.  Grant  this  O  Lord,  and 
take  not  from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  pardon  and  bless  me  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

77. 

Jan.  i,  1769,  24  after  12. 

1  am  now  about  to  begin  another  year,  how  the  last  has  past, 
it  would  be  in  my  state  of  weakness  4  perhaps  not  prudent  too 
solicitously  to  recollect.     God  will  I  hope  turn  my  sufferings  to 
my  benefit,  forgive  me  whatever  I  have  done  amiss,  and  having 
vouchsafed  me  great  relief,  will  by  degrees  heal  and  restore  both 
my  mind  and  body,  and  permit  me  when  the  last  year  of  my 
life  shall  come,  to  leave  the  world  in  holiness  and  tranquillity. 

I  am  not  yet  in  a  state  to  form  many  resolutions  ;  I  purpose 
and  hope  to  rise  early  in  the  morning,  at  eight,  and  by  degrees 
at  six  ;  eight  being  the  latest  hour  to  which  Bedtime  can  be 
properly  extended,  and  six  the  earliest  that  the  present  system 
of  life  requires 5. 

1  He  wrote  to  Boswell,  twelve  years  2  He  gave  Boswell  Les  Penstes  de 

later  :— '  Make  it  an  invariable  and  Pascal.     Post,  p.  87. 

obligatory  law  to  yourself  never  to  3  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  i. 

mention  your  own  mental  diseases  ;  4  On  his  next  birthday  he  records : 

if  you  are  never  to  speak  of  them  — '  The  last  year  has  been  wholly 

you  will  think  on  them  but  little,  and  spent  in  a  slow  progress  of  recovery.' 

if  you  think  little  of  them  they  will  5  Six  years  later,  in  the  month  of 

molest  you  rarely.'     Life,  iii.  421.  June,  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  from 

Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  49 

78. 

Jan.  i,  1769. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  continued  my 
life  from  year  to  year,  grant  that  by  longer  life  I  may  become 
less  desirous  of  sinful  pleasures,  and  more  careful  of  eternal 
happiness x.  As  age  comes  upon  me  let  my  mind  be  more  with 
drawn  from  vanity  and  folly,  more  enlightened  with  the  know 
ledge  of  thy  will,  and  more  invigorated  with  resolution  to  obey 
it.  O  Lord,  calm  my  thoughts,  direct  my  desires,  and  fortify  my 
purposes.  If  it  shall  please  thee  give  quiet  to  my  latter  days, 
and  so  support  me  with  thy  grace  that  I  may  dye  in  thy  favour 
for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

Safely  brought  us  to  the  beginning  of  this  year 2. 

79. 

Sept.  1 8,  1769. 

This  day  completes  the  sixtieth  year  of  my  age.  What 
I  have  done  and  what  I  have  left  undone  the  unsettled  state  of 
my  mind  makes  all  endeavours  to  think  improper.  I  hope  to 
survey  my  life  with  more  tranquillity,  in  some  part  of  the  time 
which  God  shall  grant  me. 

The  last  year  has  been  wholly  spent  in  a  slow  progress  of 
recovery.  My  days  are  easier,  but  the  perturbation  of  my  nights 
is  very  distressful.  I  think  to  try  a  lower  diet.  I  have  grown 
fat  too  fast.  My  lungs  seems  incumbered,  and  my  breath  fails 
me,  if  my  strength  is  in  any  unusual  degree  exerted,  or  my 
motion  accelerated.  I  seem  to  myself  to  bear  exercise  with 
more  difficulty  than  in  the  last  winter.  But  though  I  feel  all 
those  decays  of  body,  I  have  made  no  preparation  for  the  grave. 
What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ? 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  I  now  appear  in  thy 
presence,  laden  with  the  sins,  and  accountable  for  the  mercies  of 
another  year.  Glory  be  to  thee,  O  God,  for  the  mitigation  of 
my  troubles,  and  for  the  hope  of  health  both  of  mind  and  body 

Oxford  : — '  Don't  suppose  that  I  live          x  This  passage   is  quoted  in  the 
here  as  we  live  at  Streatham.    I  went      Life,  iv.  397. 
this  morning  to  the  chapel  at  six.'          2  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  I. 
Letters,  i.  323. 
VOL.  I.  E  which 


50  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

which  thou  hast  vouchsafed  me.  Most  merciful  Lord,  if  it  seem 
good  unto  thee,  compose  my  mind,  and  relieve  my  diseases ; 
enable  me  to  perform  the  duties  of  my  station,  and  so  to  serve 
thee,  as  that,  when  my  hour  of  departure  from  this  painful  life 
shall  be  delayed  no  longer,  I  may  be  received  to  everlasting 
happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

O  Lord,  without  whose  help  all  the  purposes  of  man  are  vain, 
enable  me  to  use  such  temperance  as  may  heal  my  body,  and 
strengthen  my  mind,  and  enable  me  to  serve  Thee.  Grant  this, 

0  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour.     Amen. 
Who  hast  safely  brought  me  to,  &c. 

80. 

Sept.  19. 

Yesterday,  having  risen  from  a  disturbed  and  wearisome  night, 

1  was  not  much  at  rest  the  whole  day.    I  prayed  with  the  collect, 
to  the  beginning*)  in  the  night  and  in  the  morning.     At  night 
I   composed  my  prayer  and  wrote  my  reflection.     Reviewing 
them  I  found  them  both  weakly  conceived  and  imperfectly  ex 
pressed,  and  corrected  the  prayer  this  morning.     I  am  glad  that 
I  have  not  omitted  my  annual  practice.     I  hope  that  by  rigid 
temperance,  and  moderate  exercise  I  may  yet  recover.     I  used 
the  prayer  again  at  night,  and  am  now  to  begin,  by  the  per 
mission  of  God,  my  sixty  first  year. 

81. 

November  5,  1769. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  whose  providence  is  over  all 
thy  works,  look  down  with  pity  upon  the  diseases  of  my  body, 
and  the  perturbations  of  my  mind.  Give  thy  Blessing,  O  Lord, 
to  the  means  which  I  shall  use  for  my  relief,  and  restore  ease  to 
my  body,  and  quiet  to  my  thoughts.  Let  not  my  remaining  life 
be  made  useless  by  infirmities,  neither  let  health,  if  thou  shalt 
grant  it,  be  employed  by  me  in  disobedience  to  thy  laws ;  but 
give  me  such  a  sense  of  my  pains,  as  may  humble  me  before 
thee  ;  and  such  remembrance  of  thy  mercy  as  may  produce 
honest  industry,  and  holy  confidence.  And,  O  Lord,  whether 

1  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  I. 

Thou 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  51 

Thou  ordainest  my  days  to  be  past  in  ease  or  anguish,  take  not 
from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit ;  but  grant  that  I  may  attain  ever 
lasting  life,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

This  I  found  Jan.  n,  — 72;  and  believe  it  written  when 
I  began  to  live  on  milk.  I  grew  worse  with  forbearance  of 
solid  food. 

82. 

Prima  mane,  fan.  i,  1770. 

Almighty  God  by  whose  mercy  I  am  permitted  to  behold  the 
beginning  of  another  year,  succour  with  thy  help  and  bless  with 
thy  favour,  the  creature  whom  Thou  vouchsafest  to  preserve. 
Mitigate,  if  it  shall  seem  best  unto  thee,  the  diseases  of  my 
body,  and  compose  the  disorders  of  my  mind.  Dispel  my 
terrours ;  and  grant  that  the  time  which  thou  shalt  yet  allow 
me,  may  not  pass  unprofitably  away.  Let  not  pleasure  seduce 
me,  Idleness  lull  me,  or  misery  depress  me J.  Let  me  perform 
to  thy  glory,  and  the  good  of  my  fellow  creatures  the  work 
which  thou  shalt  yet  appoint  me.  And  grant  that  as  I  draw 
nearer  to  my  dissolution,  I  may,  by  the  help  of  thy  Holy  Spirit 
feel  my  knowledge  of  Thee  encreased,  my  hope  exalted,  and  my 
Faith  strengthened,  that,  when  the  hour  which  is  coming  shall 
come,  I  may  pass  by  a  holy  death  to  everlasting  happiness,  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

83. 

1770,  March  28,  Wednesday. 

This  is  the  day  on  which  in  — 52,  I  was  deprived  of  poor  dear 
Tetty.  Having  left  off  the  practice  of  thinking  on  her  with  some 
particular  combinations,  I  have  recalled  her  to  my  mind  of  late 
less  frequently,  but  when  I  recollect  the  time  in  which  we  lived 
together,  my  grief  for  her  departure  is  not  abated,  and  I  have 
less  pleasure  in  any  good  that  befals  me,  because  she  does  not 
partake  it 2.  On  many  occasions  I  think  what  she  would  have 
said  or  done.  When  I  saw  the  sea  at  Brighthelmston,  I  wished 

1  The    following    words    he    had  corded  in  his  Journal : — *  As  I  entered 
struck  out : — 'Let  my  remaining  days  my  wife  was  in  my  mind  ;  she  would 
be  innocent  and  useful.'  have    been    pleased.     Having    now 

2  When  five  years  later  he  entered  nobody  to  please  I  am  little  pleased.' 
the  Palais  Bourbon  at  Paris,  he  re-  Life,  ii.  393. 

E  3  for 


52  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

for  her  to  have  seen  it  with  me1.  But  with  respect  to  her  no 
rational  wish  is  now  left,  but  that  we  may  meet  at  last  where 
the  mercy  of  God  shall  make  us  happy,  and  perhaps  make  us 
instrumental  to  the  happiness  of  each  other.  It  is  now  eighteen 
years. 

84. 
1 770,  April  1 1 .     Cupped 2. 

85. 

1770,  April  \±. 

This  week  is  Passion  week. 

I  have  for  some  weeks  past  been  much  afflicted  with  the 
Lumbago,  or  Rheumatism  in  the  Loins,  which  often  passes  to 
the  muscles  of  the  belly,  where  it  causes  equal,  if  not  greater 
pain.  In  the  day  the  sunshine  mitigates  it,  and  in  cold  or  cloudy 
weather  such  as  has  for  some  time  past  remarkably  prevailed  the 
heat  of  a  strong  fire  suspends  it.  In  the  night  it  is  so  trouble 
some,  as  not  very  easily  to  be  borne.  I  lye  wrapped  in  Flannel 
with  a  very  great  fire  near  my  bed,  but  whether  it  be  that 
a  recumbent  posture  encreases  the  pain,  or  that  expansion  by 
moderate  warmth  excites  what  a  great  heat  dissipates,  I  can 
seldom  remain  in  bed  two  hours  at  a  time  without  the  necessity 
of  rising  to  heat  the  parts  affected  at  the  fire. 

One  night,  between  the  pain  and  the  spasms  in  my  stomach 
I  was  insupportably  distressed.  On  the  next  night,  I  think, 
I  laid  a  blister  to  my  back,  and  took  opium ;  my  night  was 
tolerable,  and  from  that  time  the  spasms  in  my  stomach  which 
disturbed  me  for  many  years,  and  for  two  past  harassed  me 
almost  to  distraction,  have  nearly  ceased  ;  I  suppose  the  breast 
is  relaxed  by  the  opium. 

Having  passed  Thursday  in  Passion  Week  at  Mr.  Thrales3, 

1  Johnson  visited  Brighton  in  1765  Goethe  was  thirty-seven  years  old 

(Letters,  i.  120)  when  he  was  fifty- six  when  he  first  saw  the  sea.    It  was  at 

years  old.     This  seems  to  have  been  Venice.     Lewes's  Life  of  Goethe,  ed. 

his  first  sight  of  the  sea.     His  wife  1890,  p.  297. 

had  never  seen  it.     '  George  III  had  2  For  his  recourse  to  bleeding,  see 

never  seen  the  sea,  nor  ever  been  Life,  iii.  152,  n.  3. 

thirty  miles  from  London  at  the  age  3  At  Mr.  Thrale's  house  in  South- 

of  thirty-four.'     Walpole's  Memoirs  wark. 
of  the  Reign  of  George  III,  iv.  327. 

I  came 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  53 

I  came  home  on  Fryday  morning,  that  I  might  pass  the  day 
unobserved.  I  had  nothing  but  water  once  in  the  morning  and 
once  at  bed-time.  I  refused  tea  after  some  deliberation  in  the 
afternoon.  They  did  not  press  it.  I  came  home  late,  and  was 
unwilling  to  carry  my  Rheumatism  to  the  cold  church  in  the 
morning,  unless  that  were  rather  an  excuse  made  to  myself.  In 
the  afternoon  I  went  to  Church  but  came  late,  I  think  at  the 
Creed.  I  read  Clarkes  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Christ,  and  the 
Second  Epistle  to  Timothy  in  Greek,  but  rather  hastily.  I  then 
went  to  Thrale's,  and  had  a  very  tedious  and  painful  night.  But 
the  Spasms  in  my  Throat  are  gone  and  if  either  the  pain  or  the 
opiate  which  the  pain  enforced  has  stopped  them  the  relief  is 
very  cheaply  purchased.  The  pain  harasses  me  much,  yet  many 
have  the  disease  perhaps  in  a  much  higher  degree  with  want  of 
food,  fire,  and  covering,  which  I  find  thus  grievous  with  all  the 
succours  that  riches  and  kindness  can  buy  and  give. 

On  Saturday  I  was  not  hungry  and  did  not  eat  much  breakfast. 
There  was  a  dinner  and  company  at  which  I  was  persuaded,  or 
tempted  to  stay J.  At  night  I  came  home  sat  up,  and  composed 
the  prayer,  and  having  ordered  the  maid  to  make  the  fire  in  my 
chamber  at  eight  went  to  rest,  and  had  a  tolerable  night. 

86. 

EASTER  DAY,  Apr.  15  [1770],  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  who  hast  preserved  me  by 
thy  fatherly  care  through  all  the  years  of  my  past  Life,  and  now 
permittest  me  again  to  commemorate  the  sufferings  and  the 
merits  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  grant  me  so  to 
partake  of  this  holy  Rite,  that  the  disquiet  of  my  mind  may  be 
appeased,  that  my  Faith  may  be  encreased,  my  hope  strengthened, 
and  my  Life  regulated  by  thy  Will.  Make  me  truly  thankful  for 
that  portion  of  health  which  thy  mercy  has  restored,  and  enable 
me  to  use  the  remains  of  Life  to  thy  glory  and  my  own  salvation. 
Take  not  from  me  O  Lord  thy  Holy  Spirit.  Extinguish  in  my 
mind  all  sinful  and  inordinate  desires.  Let  me  resolve  to  do 

1  Two  years  later,  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Lent  I  do  not  willingly  go  out,  and 
Taylor  who  had  asked  him  to  dinner  shall  be  glad  to  change  to-morrow 
on  Easter  Eve :— '  On  the  last  day  of  for  Monday,'  &c.  Letters,  i.  188. 

that 


54  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

that  which  is  right,  and  let  me  by  thy  help  keep  my  resolutions. 
Let  me,  if  it  be  best  for  me,  at  last  know  peace  and  comfort,  but 
whatever  state  of  life  Thou  shalt  appoint  me  let  me  end  it  by 
a  happy  death,  and  enjoy  eternal  happiness  in  thy  presence,  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

87. 

i  in  the  afternoon,  EASTER  DAY. 

I  am  just  returned  from  the  communion  having  been  very  little 
interrupted  in  my  duty  by  bodily  pain. 

I  was  very  early  at  church  and  used  this  prayer,  I  think,  before 
service  with  proper  collects.  I  was  composed  during  the  service. 
I  went  to  the  table  to  hear  the  prefatory  part  of  the  office,  then 
returned  to  my  pew,  and  tried  to  settle  some  resolutions. 

I  resolved  to  form  this  day,  some  plan  for  reading  the 
Scriptures. 

To  rise  by  eight,  or  earlier. 

To  form  a  plan  for  the  regulation  of  my  daily  life. 

To  excite  in  myself  such  a  fervent  desire  of  pleasing  God  as 
should  suppress  all  other  passions. 

I  prayed  through  all  the  collects  of  meditation1,  with  some 
extemporary  prayers  ;  recommended  my  friends  living  and  dead 2. 
When  I  returned  to  the  table  I  staid  till  most  had  communicated, 
and  in  the  mean  time  tried  to  settle  my  mind  prayed  against  bad 
and  troublesome  thoughts,  resolved  to  oppose  sudden  incursions 

of  them,  and,  I  think  had thrown  into  my  mind  at  the 

general  confession.  When  I  went  first  to  the  table,  the  particular 
series  of  my  thoughts  I  cannot  recollect. 

When  I  came  home  I  returned  thanks  by  accommodating  the 
general  thanksgiving3,  and  used  this  prayer  again,  with  the 
collects,  after  receiving.  I  hope  God  has  heard  me. 

1  Johnson,  Post,  p.  66,  mentions  in   his   time,    in    which    the    Com- 

these  '  collects  of  meditation.'     See  munion  Service  is  printed  with  ap- 

ante,  p.  34,  where  he  resolves  'at  propriate  prayers  and  meditations, 

church  to  use  the  collects  of  Fourth  Such     meditations    Jeremy    Taylor 

after  Trinity,  and  First  and  Fourth  gives  in  his  Worthy  Communicant. 

after  Epiphany,  and  to  meditate.'    It  2  Ante,  p.  29. 

may  be  the  case,  though  it  is  not  3  For  his  'accommodative  'prayers, 

likely,  that  he  made  use  of  one  of  the  see  Ante,  p.  42. 
books  of  private  devotion  common 

Shall 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  55 

Shall  I  ever  receive  the  Sacrament  with  tranquillity  ?  Surely 
the  time  will  come. 

Some  vain  thoughts  stole  upon  me  while  I  stood  near  the 
table,  I  hope  I  ejected  them  effectually  so  as  not  to  be  hurt 
by  them. 

I  went  to  prayers  at  seven  having  fasted ;  read  the  two 
morning  lessons  in  Greek.  At  night  I  read  Clarke's  Sermon  of 
the  Humiliation  of  our  Saviour. 

88. 

i  Sunday  after  Easter. 

I  have  been  recovering  from  my  rheumatism  slowly  yet 
sensibly.  But  the  last  week  has  produced  little  good.  Uneasy 
nights  have  tempted  me  to  lye  long  in  the  morning.  But  when 
I  wake  in  the  night  the  release  which  still  continues  from  the 
spasms  in  my  throat,  gives  me  great  comfort. 

The  plan  which  I  formed  for  reading  the  Scriptures  was  to  read 
600  verses  in  [the]  Old  Testament,  and  200  in  the  New  every 
week z.  The  Old  Testament  in  any  language,  the  New  in  Greek. 

This  day  I  began  to  read  the  Septuagint  but  read  only  230 
verses  the  nine  first  chapters  of  Genesis. 

On  this  evening  I  repeated  the  prayer  for  Easter  day 2,  changing 
the  future  tense  to  the  past. 

89. 

177 Q.June  i. 

Every  man  naturally  persuades  himself  that  he  can  keep  his 
resolutions,  nor  is  he  convinced  of  his  imbecillity  but  by  length 
of  time  and  frequency  of  experiment.  This  opinion  of  our  own 
constancy  is  so  prevalent  that  we  always  despise  him  who  suffers 
his  general  and  settled  purpose  to  be  overpowered  by  an  occa 
sional  desire.  They  therefore  whom  frequent  failures  have  made 
desperate  cease  to  form  resolutions,  and  they  who  are  become 
cunning  do  not  tell  them.  Those  who  do  not  make  them,  are 
very  few,  but  of  their  effect  little  is  perceived,  for  scarcely  any 
man  persists  in  a  course  of  life  planned  by  choice,  but  as  he  is 
restrained  from  deviation  by  some  external  power.  He  who 
may  live  as  he  will,  seldom  lives  long  in  the  observation  of  his 

1  Ante,  p.  32.  2  His  Prayer.     Ante,  p.  53. 

own 


56  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

own  rules  J.  I  never  yet  saw  a  regular  family  unless  it  were  that 
of  Mrs.  Harriots2,  nor  a  regular  man  except  Mr.  Campbel3, 
whose  exactness  I  know  only  by  his  own  report,  and  Psalmanazar4, 
whose  life  was  I  think,  uniform. 

00. 

EASTER  DAY,  March  31,  — 71. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  I  am  now  about  to  com 
memorate  once  more  in  thy  presence,  the  redemption  of  the  world 
by  our  Lord  and  Saviour  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ.  Grant,  O  most 
merciful  God,  that  the  benefit  of  his  sufferings  may  be  extended 
to  me.  Grant  me  Faith,  grant  me  Repentance.  Illuminate  me 
with  thy  Holy  Spirit.  Enable  me  to  form  good  purposes,  and 
to  bring  these  purposes  to  good  effect.  Let  me  so  dispose  my 
time,  that  I  may  discharge  the  duties  to  which  thou  shalt  vouch 
safe  to  call  me,  and  let  that  degree  of  health,  to  which  thy  mercy 
has  restored  me  be  employed  to  thy  Glory.  O  God,  invigorate 
my  understanding,  compose  my  perturbations,  recal  my  wander 
ings,  and  calm  my  thoughts,  that  having  lived  while  thou  shalt 
grant  me  life,  to  do  good  and  to  praise  Thee,  I  may  when  thy 
call  shall  summon  me  to  another  state,  receive  mercy  from  thee, 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

91. 

1771,  September  18,  9  at  night. 

I  am  now  come  to  my  sixty-third  year.  For  the  last  year 
I  have  been  slowly  recovering  both  from  the  violence  of  my  last 
illness,  and,  I  think,  from  the  general  disease  of  my  life.  My 
Breath  is  less  obstructed,  and  I  am  more  capable  of  motion  and 
exercise.  My  mind  is  less  encumbered,  and  I  am  less  interrupted 
in  mental  employment.  Some  advances  I  hope  have  been  made 
towards  regularity.  I  have  missed  Church  since  Easter  only  two 
Sundays,  both  which  I  hope  I  have  endeavoured  to  supply  by 
attendance  on  Divine  Worship  in  the  following  week 5.  Since 
Easter,  my  Evening  devotions  have  been  lengthened.  But 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  113.  But  see  Life,  iii.  243,  for  his  drink- 

?  Mrs.  Harriots  was  a  relation  of      ing. 
Johnson's  mother.  4  Ib.  iii.  443. 

3   Perhaps    Dr.    John    Campbell.          5  Post,  pi  81. 

Indolence 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  57 

Indolence  and  indifference  has  been  neither  conquered  nor  op 
posed.  No  plan  of  Study  has  been  pursued  or  formed,  except 
that  I  have  commonly  read  every  week,  if  not  on  Sunday, 
a  stated  portion  of  the  New  Testament  in  greek.  But  what  is 
most  to  be  considered  I  have  neither  attempted  nor  formed  any 
scheme  of  Life  by  which  I  may  do  good,  and  please  God. 

One  great  hindrance  is  want  of  rest,  my  nocturnal  complaints 
grow  less  troublesome  towards  morning,  and  I  am  tempted  [to] 
repair  the  deficiencies  of  the  night x.  I  think  however  to  try  to 
rise  every  day  by  eight,  and  to  combat  indolence  as  I  shall 
obtain  strength.  Perhaps  Providence  has  yet  some  use  for  the 
remnant  of  my  life 2. 

Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  whose  mercy  is  over  all  thy 
works,  and  who  hast  no  pleasure  in  the  Death  of  a  Sinner,  look 
with  pity  upon  me,  succour  and  preserve  me ;  enable  me  to 
conquer  evil  habits,  and  surmount  temptations.  Give  me  Grace 
so  to  use  the  degree  of  health  which  Thou  hast  restored  to  my 
Mind  and  Body,  that  I  may  perform  the  task  thou  shalt  yet 
appoint  me.  Look  down,  O  gracious  Lord  upon  my  remaining 
part  of  Life ;  grant,  if  it  please  thee,  that  the  days  few  or  many 
which  thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  may  pass  in  reasonable  confidence, 
and  holy  tranquillity.  Withhold  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me, 
but  strengthen  all  good  purposes  till  they  shall  produce  a  life 
pleasing  to  Thee.  And  when  thou  shalt  call  me  to  another 
state,  forgive  me  my  sins,  and  receive  me  to  Happiness,  for  the 
Sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

Safely  brought  us,  &c.3 

92. 

Sept.  23,  1771. 

On  the  1 8th,  in  the  morning,  before  I  went  to  Bed,  I  used  the 
general  prayer  [beginning  of  this  year].  When  I  rose,  I  came 
home  from  Mr.  Thrale's  that  I  might  be  more  master  of  my 
hours 4.  I  went  to  Church  in  the  Morning,  but  came  in  to  the 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  143.  Jan.    I,   1770,   he  uttered  his   New 

2  The  Lives  of  the  Poets  had  yet  Year's  Day  prayer  '  prima  mane ' — 
to  be  written.  in    the    first    hour    after    midnight. 

3  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  I.  '  The  general   prayer '  was,  I  con- 

4  He  sat  up   on  the  eve  of  his  jecture,  his  '  accommodation '  of  the 
birthday    till    after    midnight.     On  Third  Collect.    Ante,  p.  42,  n.  I. 

Litany. 


58  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

Litany.     I  have  gone  voluntarily  to  Church  on  the  week  day 
but  few  times  in  my  Life.     I  think  to  mend. 

At  night  I  composed  and  used  the  prayer,  which  I  have  used 
since  in  my  devotions  one  morning.  Having  been  somewhat 
disturbed,  I  have  not  yet  settled  in  any  plan,  except  that 
yesterday  I  began  to  learn  some  verses  in  the  Greek  Testament 
for  a  Sundays  recital.  I  hope  by  Trust  in  God  to  amend  my 
Life. 

93. 

Jan.  i,  1772,  2  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  God,  who  hast  permitted  me  to  see  the  beginning 
of  another  year,  enable  me  so  to  receive  thy  mercy,  as  that  it 
may  raise  in  me  stronger  desires  of  pleasing  thee  by  purity  of 
mind  and  holiness  of  Life.  Strengthen  me,  O  Lord,  in  good 
purposes,  and  reasonable  meditations.  Look  with  pity  upon  all 
my  disorders  of  mind,  and  infirmities  of  body.  Grant  that  the 
residue  of  my  life  may  enjoy  such  degrees  of  health  as  may 
permit  me  to  be  useful,  and  that  I  may  live  to  thy  Glory;  and 
O  merciful  Lord  when  it  shall  please  thee  to  call  me  from  the 
present  state,  enable  me  to  dye  in  confidence  of  thy  mercy,  and 
receive  me  to  everlasting  happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  Amen. 

To  rise  in  the  morning. 

94. 

EASTER  EVE,  Apr.  18,  1772. 

I  am  now  again  preparing  by  Divine  Mercy  to  commemorate 
the  Death  of  my  gracious  Redeemer,  and  to  form,  as  God  shall 
enable  me,  resolutions  and  purposes  of  a  better  life. 

When  I  review  the  last  year,  I  am  able  to  recollect  so  little 
done,  that  shame  and  sorrow,  though  perhaps  too  weakly,  come 
upon  me  x.  Yet  I  have  been  generally  free  from  local  pain,  and 
my  strength  has  seemed  gradually  to  increase.  But  my  sleep 
has  generally  been  unquiet,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  rise 
early.  My  mind  is  unsettled,  and  my  memory  confused.  I  have 
of  late  turned  my  thoughts,  with  a  very  useless  earnestness,  upon 
past  incidents.  I  have  yet  got  no  command  over  my  thoughts  ; 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  143. 

an 


Prayers  'and  Meditations.  59 

an  unpleasing  incident  is  almost  certain  to  hinder  my  rest1. 
This  is  the  remainder  of  my  last  illness.  By  sleepless  or 
unquiet  nights  and  short  days,  made  short  by  late  rising  the 
time  passes  away  uncounted  and  unheeded.  Life  so  spent  is 
useless. 

I  hope  to  cast  my  time  into  some  stated  method. 

To  let  no  hour  pass  unemployed. 

To  rise  by  degrees  more  early  in  the  morning. 

To  keep  a  Journal. 

I  have,  I  think,  been  less  guilty  of  neglecting  public  worship 
than  formerly.  I  have  commonly  on  Sunday  gone  once  to 
church,  and  if  I  have  missed,  have  reproached  myself. 

I  have  exerted  rather  more  activity  of  body.  These  dis 
positions  I  desire  to  improve. 

I  resolved,  last  Easter,  to  read  within  the  year,  the  whole 
Bible,  a  very  great  part  of  which  I  had  never  looked  upon. 
I  read  the  Greek  Testament  without  construing,  and  this  day 
concluded  the  Apocalypse 2.  I  think  that  no  part  was  missed. 

My  purpose  of  reading  the  rest  of  the  Bible  was  forgotten,  till 
I  took  by  chance  the  resolutions  of  last  Easter  in  my  hand. 
I  began  it  the  first  day  of  lent ;  and,  for  a  time  read  with  some 
regularity.  I  was  then  disturbed  or  seduced,  but  finished  the 
old  Testament  last  Thursday. 

I  hope  to  read  the  whole  Bible  once  a  year  as  long  as  I  live. 

Yesterday  I  fasted,  as  I  have  always,  or  commonly  done,  since 
the  death  of  Tetty.  The  Fast  was  more  painful  than  it  has 
formerly  been,  which  I  imputed  to  some  medicinal  evacuations 


1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  190.  He  which  I  am  not  indifferent,  lest  some- 
wrote  to  Dr.  Taylor  on  August  31  of  thing,  which  I  know  to  be  nothing, 
this  year : — '  I  had  formerly  great  should  fasten  upon  my  imagination, 
command  of  my  attention,  and  what  and  hinder  me  from  sleep.'  Letters, 
I  did  not  like  could  forbear  to  think  i.  190. 

on.     But  of  this  power,  which  is  of          2  Boswell  writes  of  this  Easter  : — 

the  highest  importance  to  the  tran-  '  I   paid   him   short   visits   both    on 

quillity  of  life,  I  have  been  some  [sic]  Friday  and  Saturday,  and  seeing  his 

much  exhausted,  that  I  do  not  go  large  folio  Greek  Testament  before 

into   a  company  towards   night,  in  him  beheld  him  with  a  reverential 

which  I  foresee  any  thing  disagree-  awe,  and  would  not  intrude  upon  his 

able,  nor  enquire  after  any  thing  to  time.'    Life,  ii.  189. 

in 


60  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

in  the  beginning  of  the  week,  and  to  a  meal  of  cakes  on  the 
forgoing  day.     I  cannot  now  fast  as  formerly. 

I  devoted  this  week  to  the  perusal  of  the  Bible,  and  have  done 
little  secular  business.  I  am  this  night  easier  than  is  customary 
on  this  anniversary,  but  am  not  sensibly  enlightened. 

95. 

EASTER  DAY,  after  1  2  at  night. 

The  Day  is  now  begun,  on  which  I  hope  to  begin  a  new  course 


My  hopes  are  from  this  time, 
To  rise  early. 
To  waste  less  time. 
To  appropriate  something  to  charity  2. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  who  hatest  nothing  that  thou 
hast  made,  look  down  with  pity  on  my  sinfulness  and  weakness. 
Strengthen,  O  Lord,  my  mind,  deliver  me  from  needless  terrours. 
Enable  me  to  correct  all  inordinate  desires,  to  eject  all  evil 
thoughts,  to  reform  all  sinful  habits,  and  so  to  amend  my  life  3, 
that  when  at  the  end  of  my  days  thou  shalt  call  me  hence, 
I  may  depart  in  peace,  and  be  received  into  everlasting  happi 
ness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

96. 

9  in  the  morning. 

Glory  be  to  Thee,  O  Lord  God,  for  the  deliverance  which 
Thou  hast  granted  me  from  diseases  of  mind  and  body  4.  Grant, 
O  gracious  God,  that  I  may  employ  the  powers  which  thou 
vouchsafest  me  to  thy  Glory,  and  the  Salvation  of  my  soul,  for 
the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

1  As  if  from  the  starting-place.  eject  all  wicked  thoughts,  to  break  off 

2  'Johnson's  charity  to   the  poor      all  sinful  habits,  and  so  to  regulate 
was  uniform  and  extensive,  both  from      my  life  that,'  &c. 

inclination  and  principle.'     Life,  iv.  4  On   March   15  of  this  year  he 

132.     'His   liberality  in  giving  his  wrote  to  Boswell:—'  My  health  grows 

money  to  persons   in   distress   was  better,  yet  I  am  not  fully  recovered. 

extraordinary.'    ft.  p.  191.  I  believe  it  is  held  that  men  do  not 

3  In  another  version  of  this  prayer  recover  very  fast  after  threescore.' 
he   thus    varies    these  words  :  —  '  to  Life,  ii.  145. 

I  was 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  61 


97. 

April  26. 

I  was  some  way  hinderd  from  continuing  this  contemplation 
in  the  usual  manner,  and  therefore  try  at  the  distance  of  a  week 
to  review  the  last  Sunday. 

I  went  to  Church  early  having  first,  I  think,  used  my  prayer. 
When  I  was  there  I  had  very  little  perturbation  of  mind.  During 
the  usual  time  of  Meditation,  I  considered  the  Christian  Duties 
under  the  three  principles  of  Soberness  ;  Righteousness  ;  and 
Godliness ;  and  purposed  to  forward  Godliness  by  the  annual 
perusal  of  the  Bible ;  Righteousness  by  settling  something  for 
Charity^  and  Soberness  by  early  hours.  I  commended  as  usual 
with  preface  of  permission,  and,  I  think,  mentioned  Bathurst x. 
I  came  home,  and  found  Paoli  and  Boswel  waiting  for  me2. 
What  devotions  I  used  after  my  return  home  I  do  not  distinctly 
remember.  I  went  to  prayers  in  the  evening;  and,  I  think, 
entred  late. 

I  have  this  week  endeavoured  every  day  but  one  to  rise  early, 
and  have  tried  to  be  diligent,  but  have  not  performed  what 
I  required  from  myself. 

On  Good  Fryday,  I  paid  Peyton 3  without  requiring  work. 

Since  Easter  — 71  I  have  added  a  collect  to  my  Evening 
devotion. 

I  have  been  less  indulgent  to  corporal  inactivity.  But  I  have 
done  little  with  my  mind. 

It  is  a  comfort  to  me,  that  at  last,  in  my  sixty-third  year, 
I  have  attained  to  know,  even  thus  hastily,  confusedly,  and 
imperfectly,  what  my  Bible  contains. 

May  the  good  God  encrease  and  sanctify  my  knowledge. 

I  have  never  yet  read  the  apocrypha.  When  I  was  a  boy 
I  have  read  or  heard  Bel  and  the  dragon,  Susannah,  some  of 
Tobit,  perhaps  all.  Some  at  least  of  Judith,  and  some  of 
Ecclesiasticus ;  and  I  suppose,  the  Benedicite.  I  have  some 

1  Ante,  p.  29.         2  Life,  ii.  190.          edition.     Life,  ii.  155.     'Peyton  and 
3  Peyton,  who  had  been  one  of  his      Macbean  are  both  starving,'  he  wrote 
amanuenses  when  he  was  writing  the      in  1775, 'and  I  cannot  keep  them.' 
Dictionary,  was  now  assisting   him      Letters,  i.  319.     For  Peyton's  melan 
in    the    preparation    of   the    fourth      choly  end,  see  ib.  i.  385. 

time 


62  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

time  looked  into  the  Maccabees,  and  read  a  chapter  containing 
the  question,  Which  is  the  strongest  ? x     I  think  in  Esdras. 

In  the  afternoon  of  Easter  day,  I  read  Pococke's  commentary2. 

I  have  this  last  week  scarcely  tried  to  read,  nor  have  I  read 
any  thing  this  day. 

I  have  had  my  mind  weak  and  disturbed  for  some  weeks  past. 

Having  missed  Church  in  the  morning  I  went  this  evening, 
and  afterwards  sat  with  Southwel 3. 

Having  not  used  the  prayer4,  except  on  the  day  of  com 
munion  ;  I  will  offer  it  this  night,  and  hope  to  find  mercy.  On 
this  day  little  has  been  done  and  this  is  now  the  last  hour.  In 
life  little  has  been  done,  and  life  is  very  far  advanced.  Lord, 
have  mercy  upon  me. 

98. 

I773>/^«-  !>  mane  i.  33. 

Almighty  God,  by  whose  mercy  my  life  has  been  yet  prolonged 
to  another  year,  grant  that  thy  mercy  may  not  be  vain.  Let 
not  my  years  be  multiplied  to  encrease  my  guilt,  but  as  age 
advances,  let  me  become  more  pure  in  my  thoughts,  more  regular 
in  my  desires,  &  more  obedient  to  thy  laws 5.  Let  not  the  cares 
of  the  world  distract  me,  nor  the  evils  of  age  overwhelm  me. 
But  continue  and  encrease  thy  loving  kindness  towards  me,  and 
when  thou  shalt  call  me  hence,  receive  me  to  everlasting  happi 
ness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord.  Amen. 

99. 

GOOD  FRIDAY,  April  g,  1773. 

On  this  day  I  went  twice  to  Church  and  Boswel  was  with  me  6. 
I  had  forborn  to  attend  Divine  Service  for  some  time  in  the 

1  'The  first  [of  three  young  men  1677-91.     'At  the  time  when  John- 
that  were   of  the    guard  that  kept  son's  pension  was  granted  to  him  he 
the  king's  body]  wrote,  Wine  is  the  said,  with  a  noble  literary  ambition, 
strongest.  "Had  this  happened  twenty  years 

The  second  wrote,  The  king  is  the  ago  I  should  have  gone  to  Constan- 

strongest.  tinople  to  learn  Arabick  as  Pococke 

The     third    wrote,    Women     are  did." '    Life,  iv.  27. 

strongest :     but    above    all    things  3  Letters,  i.  205,  n.  3. 

Truth    beareth    away    the  victory.'  4  Ante,  p.  53. 

I  Esdras  iii.  10.  5  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  397. 

2  Edward  Pococke's  Commentary  6  '  On  the  9th  of  April,  being  Good 
on  Micah,  Malachi,  Hosea  and  Joel,  Friday,  I  breakfasted  with  him  on 

winter, 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  63 

winter,  having  a  cough  which  would  have  interrupted  both  my 
own  attention  and  that  of  others,  and  when  the  cough  grew  less 
troublesome  I  did  not  regain  the  habit  of  going  to  church,  though 
I  did  not  wholly  omit  it.  I  found  the  service  not  burthensome 
nor  tedious,  though  I  could  not  hear  the  lessons.  I  hope  in  time 
to  take  pleasure  in  public  Worship  x. 

On  this  whole  day  I  took  nothing  of  nourishment  but  one  cup 
of  tea  without  milk,  but  the  fast  was  very  inconvenient.  Towards 
night  I  grew  fretful,  and  impatient,  unable  to  fix  my  mind,  or 
govern  my  thoughts,  and  felt  a  very  uneasy  sensation  both  in 
my  stomach  and  head,  compounded  as  it  seemed  of  laxity  and 
pain. 

From  this  uneasiness,  of  which  when  I  was  not  asleep  I  was 
sensible  all  night,  I  was  relieved  in  the  morning  by  drinking  tea, 
and  eating  the  soft  part  of  a  penny  loaf. 

This  I  have  set  down  for  future  observation. 


100. 

Saturday  Apr.  10,  I  dined  on  cakes  and  found  myself  filled 
and  satisfied. 

Saturday  10.  Having  offered  my  prayers  to  God,  I  will  now 
review  the  last  year. 

Of  the  Spring  and  Summer,  I  remember  that  I  was  able  in 
those  seasons  to  examine  and  improve  my  dictionary 2,  and  was 

tea  and  cross-buns He  carried  tion.'    Wesley's   Journal,   ed.   1830, 

me    with    him    to    the    church    of  iv.  241. 

St.  Clement  Danes,  where  he  had  his  1  For  '  his  great  reluctance  to  go 
seat ;  and  his  behaviour  was,  as  to  church,'  see  Life,  \.  67. 
I  had  imaged  to  myself,  solemnly  2  On  Aug.  29,  1771,  he  wrote  to 
devout.  1  never  shall  forget  the  Boswell : — '  I  am  engaging  in  a  very 
tremulous  earnestness  with  which  great  work,  the  revision  of  my  Dic- 
he  pronounced  the  awful  petition  in  tionary?  Life,  ii.  142.  On  March 
the  Litany  :  "  In  the  hour  of  death,  23,  1772,  Eoswell  found  him  busy  on 
and  in  the  day  of  judgement,  good  the  work.  Ib.  p.  155.  On  Oct.  6 
Lord  deliver  us." '  Life,  ii.  214.  he  wrote  to  Dr. Taylor  :— 'I  am  now 
*  Nov.  24,  1782.  I  preached  at  within  a  few  hours  of  being  able  to 
St.  Clement's  in  the  Strand  (the  send  the  whole  dictionary  to  the 
largest  church  I  ever  preached  in  at  press,  and  though  I  often  went  slug- 
London,  except  perhaps  St.  Sepul-  gishly  to  the  work  I  am  not  much 
chre's)  to  an  immense  congrega-  delighted  at  the  completion.'  Letters, 

seldom 


64  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

seldom  withheld  from  the  work  but  by  my  own  unwillingness. 
Of  my  Nights  I  have  no  distinct  remembrance  but  believe  that 
as  in  many  foregoing  years  they  were  painful  and  restless. 

A  little  before  Christmas  I  had  caught  cold,  of  which  at  first, 
as  is  my  custom,  I  took  little  notice,  but  which  harrassed  me  as 
it  grew  more  violent,  with  a  cough  almost  incessant,  both  night 
and  day.  I  was  let  blood  three  times,  and  after  about  ten 
weeks,  with  the  help  of  warm  weather  I  recovered.  From  this 
time  I  have  been  much  less  troubled  with  nocturnal  flatulencies, 
and  have  had  some  nights  of  that  quiet  and  continual  sleep, 
which  I  had  wanted  till  I  had  almost  forgotten  it. 

O  God,  grant  that  I  may  not  mispend  or  lose  the  time  which 
thou  shalt  yet  allow  me.  For  Jesus  Christs  sake  have  mercy 
upon  me. 

My  purpose  is  to  attain  in  the  remaining  part  of  the  year  as 
much  knowledge  as  can  easily  be  had  of  the  Gospels  and 
Pentateuch.  Concerning  the  Hebrew  I  am  in  doubt.  I  hope 
likewise  to  enlarge  my  knowledge  of  Divinity,  by  reading  at 
least  once  a  week  some  sermon  or  small  theological  tract,  or 
some  portion  of  a  larger  work. 

To  this  important  and  extensive  study,  my  purpose  is  to 
appropriate  (libere)  part  of  every  Sunday,  Holyday,  Wednesday, 
and  Friday,  and  to  begin  with  the  Gospels.  Perhaps  I  may  not 
be  able  to  study  the  Pentateuch  before  next  year. 

My  general  resolution  to  which  I  humbly  implore  the  help  of 
God  is  to  methodise  my  life ;  to  resist  sloth.  I  hope  from  this 
time  to  keep  a  Journal  \ 

i.  191.     On  Feb.  24,  1773,  he  wrote  often  better,  as  worse,  than  I   ex- 

to  Boswell  : — 'A  new  edition  of  my  pected.'    Life,  ii.  205. 

great    Dictionary  is   printed,   from  x  '  On  his  thirty-eighth  birthday, 

a  copy  which   I  was   persuaded   to  being  February  18,  1597,  Casaubon 

revise  ;    but  having  made  no   pre-  resolved,  as  many  literary  men  have 

paration,  I  was  able  to  do  very  little,  resolved,  to  keep  a  diary.     But  he 

Some  superfluities  I  have  expunged,  continued  to  keep  it  with  the  same 

and  some  faults  I  have   corrected,  perseverance  which  he  carried  into 

and  here  and  there  have  scattered  everything,  daily,  till  within  a  fort- 

a  remark;   but  the  main  fabrick  of  night   of  his   death   in   1614.     It  is 

the  work  remains  as  it  was.     I  had  literally  "  nulla  dies  sine  linea"     I 

looked  very  little  into  it  since  I  wrote  recollect  but  one  other  example  of 

it,  and,  I  think,  I  found  it  full  as  such     regularity,    that     of    Joseph 

N.  B. 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  65 

N.  B.  On  Friday  I  read  the  first  of  Mark,  and  Clarks  sermon 
on  Faith. 

On  Saturday  I  read  little,  but  wrote  the  foregoing  account, 
and  the  following  prayer. 

Almighty  God,  by  whose  mercy  I  am  now  about  to  com 
memorate  the  death  of  my  Redeemer,  grant  that  from  this  time 
I  may  so  live  as  that  his  death  may  be  efficacious  to  my  eternal 
happiness.  Enable  me  to  conquer  all  evil  customs.  Deliver  me 
from  evil  and  vexatious  thoughts.  Grant  me  light  to  discover 
my  duty,  and  Grace  to  perform  it.  As  my  life  advances,  let  me 
become  more  pure,  and  more  holy.  Take  not  from  me  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  but  grant  that  I  may  serve  thee  with  diligence  and 
confidence ;  and  when  thou  shalt  call  me  hence,  receive  me  to 
everlasting  happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

Apr.  10,  near  midnight. 

101. 

EASTER  SUNDAY,  April  n. 

I  had  more  disturbance  in  the  night  than  has  been  customary 
for  some  weeks  past.  I  rose  before  nine  in  the  morning,  and 
prayed  and  drank  tea.  I  came,  I  think,  to  church  in  the  begin 
ning  of  the  prayers.  I  did  not  distinctly  hear  the  Psalms,  and 
found  that  I  had  been  reading  the  Psalms  for  Good  Friday. 
I  went  through  the  Litany,  after  a  short  disturbance  with  toler 
able  attention. 

After  sermon  I  perused  my  prayer  in  the  pew,  then  went 
nearer  the  altar x  and  being  introduced  into  another  pew,  used 
my  prayer  again,  and  recommended  my  relations  with  Bathurst 
and  Boothby2,  then  my  Wife  again  by  herself.  Then  I  went 

Priestley,  who  began  to  keep  a  diary  &c.,    in    the     Gentleman's    Maga- 

of  his  studies,  act.  22,  and  continued  zine    for    1785,   p.    731,    objects   to 

it  till  within  three  or  four  days  of  the   use  of  the  word   altar  by   '  so 

his  death,  aet.  7 1 Priestley's  diary  exact  a  philologist  and  so  rational 

shared  the  fate  of  all  his  collections,  a  protestant.'    Johnson  in  his  Dic- 

and  became  the  victim  of  the  savages  tionary  gives  as  the  second  meaning 

of  one  of  our  great   cities.'    Patti-  of   altar,  'the    table    in    Christian 

son's  Casaubon,  2nd  ed.,  p.  89.  churches   where  the  communion  is 

1  Johnson's  pew  was  in  the  gal-  administered.' 

lery.     The  reviewer  of  his  Prayers,  *  Miss  Hill  Boothby.    Ante,  p.  18. 

VOL.  I.  F                                           nearer 


66  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

nearer  the  altar,  and  read  the  collects  chosen  for  meditation. 
I  prayed  for  Salusbury  x  and  I  think  the  Thrales.  I  then  com 
municated  with  calmness,  used  the  collect  for  Easter  day,  and 
returning  to  the  first  pew,  prayed  my  prayer  the  third  time. 
I  came  home,  again  used  my  prayer  and  the  Easter  Collect. 
Then  went  into  the  study  to  Boswel 2,  and  read  the  Greek 
Testament.  Then  dined,  and  when  Boswel  went  away  ended 
the  four  first  chapters  of  St.  Matthew,  and  the  Beatitudes  of 
the  fifth. 

I  then  went  to  Evening  prayers,  and  was  composed. 

I  gave  the  Pewkeepers  each  $s.  $d.z 

Apr.  i  2  near  one  in  the  morning.  I  used  my  prayer  with  my 
ordinary  devotions,  and  hope  to  lead  henceforward  a  better  life. 

102. 

June  1 8,  1773,  Friday. 

This  day  after  dinner  died  Mrs  Salusbury,  she  had  for  some 
days  almost  lost  the  power  of  speaking.  Yesterday  as  I  touched 
her  hand  and  kissed  it,  she  pressed  my  hand  between  her  two 
hands,  which  she  probably  intended  as  the  parting  caress  4.  At 
night  her  speech  returned  a  little ;  and  she  said  among  other 
things  to  her  daughter,  I  have  had  much  time,  and  I  hope  I  have 
used  it.  This  morning  being  called  about  nine  to  feel  her  pulse 
I  said  at  parting  God  bless  you,  for  Jesus  Christs  sake.  She 
smiled,  as  pleased.  She  had  her  senses  perhaps  to  the  dying 
moment. 

103. 

July  22,  —73. 

This  day  I  found  this  book5  with  the  resolutions,  some  of 
which  I  had  forgotten,  but  remembered  my  design  of  reading 
the  Pentateuch  and  Gospels,  though  I  have  not  perused  it. 

1  Mrs.    Salusbury,   Mrs.    Thrale's  entertained  at  his  table.'    Life,  ii.  215. 

mother,  who  was  dying  of  cancer.  3  The  fourth  part  of  a  guinea. 

Letters,  i.  196,  n.  5.  4  Writing    of   her    a    few    weeks 

3  'To  my  great   surprise,'  writes  earlier  he  said: — 'Part  we  must  at 

Boswell,  *  he  asked  me  to  dine  with  last,   but   the   last    parting   is  very 

him  on  Easter-day.     I   never  sup-  afflictive.    When  I  see   her  I  shall 

posed  that  he  had  a  dinner  at  his  torment    her    with    caressing    her.' 

house  ;  for  I  had  not  then  heard  of  Letters^  i.  213. 

any  one  of  his  friends  having  been  5  A  book  in  which  this,  and  the 

Of 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  67 

Of  the  time  past  since  these  resolutions  were  made  I  can  give 
no  very  laudable  account.  Between  Easter  and  Whitsuntide, 
having  always  considered  that  time  as  propitious  to  study x, 
I  attempted  to  learn  the  low  Dutch  Language 2,  my  application 
was  very  slight,  and  my  memory  very  fallacious,  though  whether 
more  than  in  my  earlier  years,  I  am  not  very  certain.  My 
progress  was  interrupted  by  a  fever,  which,  by  the  imprudent  use 
of  a  small  print,  left  an  inflammation  in  my  useful  eye  3,  which 
was  not  removed  but  by  two  copious  bleedings,  and  the  daily 
use  of  catharticks  for  a  long  time.  The  effect  yet  remains. 

My  memory  has  been  for  a  long  time  very  much  confused. 
Names,  and  Persons,  and  Events,  slide  away  strangely  from  me. 
But  I  grow  easier. 

The  other  day  looking  over  old  papers,  I  perceived  a  resolution 
to  rise  early  always  occurring.  I  think  I  was  ashamed,  or  grieved, 
to  find  how  long  and  how  often  I  had  resolved,  what  yet  except 
for  about  one  half  year  I  have  never  done4.  My  Nights  are  now 
such  as  give  me  no  quiet  rest,  whether  I  have  not  lived  resolving 
till  the  possibility  of  performance  is  past,  I  know  not.  God  help 
me,  I  will  yet  try. 

104. 

Talisker5  in  Skie,  Sept.  24,  1773. 

On  last  Saturday  was  my  sixty  fourth  birthday.  I  might 
perhaps  have  forgotten  it  had  not  Boswel  told  me  of  it,  and, 
what  pleased  me  less,  told  the  family  at  Dunvegan 6. 

preceding     Meditations     on     Good  troublesome  kindness,  has  informed 

Friday  and  Easter  Sunday  are  writ-  this  family  and   reminded  me  that 

ten.     Note  by  G.  Strahan.  the  i8th  of  September  is  my  birth- 

1  For  the  influence  that  weather  day.    The  return  of  my  birth-day, 
and  seasons  have  on  study,  see  Life,  if    I    remember    it,    fills    me    with 
i.  332.  thoughts  which  it  seems  to  be  the 

2  Quoted    in    Life,    ii.    263.     He  general  care  of  humanity  to  escape, 
seems  to  have  twice  taken  up  the  I  can  now  look  back  upon  threescore 
study  of  Dutch.     Ib.  iv.  21,  n.  3.  and  four  years,  in  which  little  has 

3  Letters,  i.  57,  n.  5,  220.  been  done,  and  little  has  been  en- 

4  Ante,  p.  37.  joyed  ;  a  life  diversified  by  misery, 

5  Life,  v.  250-6 ;  Letters,  i.  268 ;  spent    part    in  the  sluggishness   of 
Footsteps  of  Dr.  Johnson   in   Scot-  penury,  and  part  under  the  violence 
land,  pp.  206-11.  of   pain,   in    gloomy  discontent    or 

6  On  Sept.  21  Johnson  wrote  to  Mrs.  importunate  distress.     But  perhaps 
Thrale  : — '  Boswell,  with  some  of  his  I  am  better  than  I  should  have  been 

F  2,  The 


68  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

The  last  year  is  added  to  those  of  which  little  use  has  been 
made.  I  tried  in  the  summer  to  learn  Dutch,  and  was  interrupted 
by  an  inflammation  in  my  eye.  I  set  out  in  August  on  this 
Journey  to  Skie.  I  find  my  memory  uncertain,  but  hope  it  is 
only  by  a  life  immethodical  and  scattered J.  Of  my  body  I  do 
not  perceive  that  exercise,  or  change  of  air  has  yet  either  en- 
creased  the  strength  or  activity.  My  Nights  are  still  disturbed 
by  flatulencies. 

My  hope  is,  for  resolution  I  dare  no  longer  call  it,  to  divide 
my  time  regularly,  and  to  keep  such  a  journal  of  my  time,  as 
may  give  me  comfort  in  reviewing  it.  But  when  I  consider  my 
age,  and  the  broken  state  of  my  body,  I  have  great  reason  to 
fear  lest  Death  should  lay  hold  upon  me,  while  I  am  yet  only 
designing  to  live 2.  But  I  have  yet  hope. 

Almighty  God,  most  merciful  Father,  look  down  upon  me  with 
pity ;  Thou  hast  protected  me  in  childhood  and  youth,  support 
me,  Lord,  in  my  declining  years.  Preserve  me  from  the  dangers 
of  sinful  presumption.  Give  me,  if  it  be  best  for  me,  stability  of 
purposes,  and  tranquillity  of  mind.  Let  the  year  which  I  have 
now  begun,  be  spent  to  thy  glory,  and  to  the  furtherance  of  my 
salvation.  Take  not  from  me  thy  holy  Spirit,  but  as  Death 
approaches,  prepare  me  to  appear  joyfully  in  thy  presence  for  the 
sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

if  I  had  been  less  afflicted.  With  I  often  try,  and  find  it  as  good  as 

this  I  will  try  to  be  content.'  Letters,  ever ;  and  memory  is  the  faculty 

i.  249.  See  also  Life,  v.  222,  and  which  it  is  most  easy  to  bring  to 

Post,  p.  92.  He  was  staying  at  decisive  tests,  and  also  the  faculty 

Dun  vegan  in  Sky  with  the  Laird  which  gives  way  first.'  Trevelyan's 

of  Macleod.  Macaulay^  ed.  1877,  ii.  386. 

1  Four  years  later  he  said : —  2  *  Those  that  lie  here  stretched 

*  There  must  be  a  diseased  mind  before  us,' said  Rasselas/ the  wise  and 

where  there  is  a  failure  of  memory  at  the  powerful  of  ancient  times,  warn 

seventy.  A  man's  head,  Sir,  must  us  to  remember  the  shortness  of  our 

be  morbid  if  he  fails  so  soon.'  Life,  present  state,  they  were  perhaps 

iii.  191.  snatched  away  while  they  were  busy 

Macaulay  ifi  his  fifty-fifth  year  like  us  in  the  choice  of  life.'  Ras- 

entered  in  his  journal : — '  My  memory  selas,  chap.  48. 


1773- 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  69 


105. 

1773 x.  Inchoavi  lectionem  Pentateuch! — Finivi  lectionem 
Conf.  Fab.  Burdonum  2. — Legi  primum  actum  Troadum  3. — Legi 
Dissertationem  Clerici  postremam  de  Pent.4 — 2  of  Clark's 
Sermons.— L.  Appolonii  pugnam  Betriciam  5. — L.  centum  versus 
Homed. 

106. 

1774,  Jan.  I,  near  2  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  who  hatest  nothing  that  thou 
hast  made,  but  wouldest  that  all  should  be  saved,  have  mercy 
upon  me.  As  thou  hast  extended  my  Life,  encrease  my  strength, 
direct  my  purposes,  and  confirm  my  resolution,  that  I  may  truly 
serve  Thee,  and  perform  the  duties  which  Thou  shalt  allot  me. 

Relieve,  O  gracious  Lord,  according  to  thy  mercy  the  pains 
and  distempers  of  my  Body,  and  appease  the  tumults  of  my 
Mind.  Let  my  Faith  and  Obedience  encrease  as  my  life  ad 
vances,  and  let  the  approach  of  Death  incite  my  desire  to  please 
Thee,  and  invigorate  my  diligence  in  good  works,  till  at  last,  when 
Thou  shalt  call  me  to  another  state,  I  shall  lie  down  in  humble 
hope,  supported  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  and  be  received  to  everlasting 
happiness,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

The  beginning,  &c.6 
I  hope 

To  read  the  Gospels  before  Easter. 

1  'These  notes  of  his  studies  ap-  where  he  was  not  orthodox,  which  was 
pear  on  different  days  in  his  manu-  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  as 
script  diary  of  this  year.'     Life,   ii.  to  which  he  is  a  condemned  heretik.' 
263.  Ib.  iii.  248,  and  ante,  p.  38,  n.  4. 

2  Accurata  Burdonum  [i.  e.  Scali-          5  The  Rev.  H.  E.  D.  Blakiston  of 
gerorum]  Fabulae  Confutatio.    Brit.  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  informs  me 
Mus.    Catalogue    (auctore     I.    R.).  that  in  the  second  book  of  Apollo- 
Lugduni  Batavorum.     Apud  Ludo-  nius's  Argonautica  there  is  the  fight 
vicum  Elzevirium  MDCXVII.  of  Polydeuces  with  Amycus,  King  of 

3  For  Johnson's    study  of    Euri-  the  Bebryces,  which.  Johnson  might 
pides,  see  Life,  i.  70,  72  ;  iv.  311.  have  latinised  as  pugna  Bebryda  or 

4  'JOHNSON.  I  should  recommend  Bebricia,  misprinted  Betricia. 
Dr.  Clarke's  sermons,  were  he  ortho-  6  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  i. 

dox.    However  it  is  very  well  known 

To 


70  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

To  rise  at  eight. 

To  be  temperate  in  Food. 

This  year  has  past  with  so  little  improvement,  that  I  doubt 
whether  I  have  not  [rather]  impaired  than  encreased  my  Learn 
ing  *.  To  this  omission  some  external  causes  have  contributed. 
In  the  Winter  I  was  distressed  by  a  cough,  in  the  Summer  an 
inflammation  fell  upon  my  useful  eye  from  which  it  has  not  yet, 
I  fear,  recovered.  In  the  Autumn  I  took  a  journey  to  the 
Hebrides,  but  my  mind  was  not  free  from  perturbation  2.  Yet 
the  chief  cause  of  my  deficiency  has  been  a  life  immethodical  and 
unsettled,  which  breaks  all  purposes,  confounds  and  suppresses 
memory,  and  perhaps  leaves  too  much  leisure  to  imagination 3. 
O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Jan.  9,  1774. 
107. 

Nov.  27.  Advent  Sunday.  I  considered  that  this  day,  being 
the  beginning  of  the  ecclesiastical  year,  was  a  proper  time  for 
a  new  course  of  life.  I  began  to  read  the  Greek  Testament 
regularly  at  160  verses  every  Sunday.  This  day  I  began  the 
Acts. 

In  this  week  I  read  Virgil's  Pastorals.  I  learned  to  repeat  the 
Pollio  and  Gallus.  I  read  carelessly  the  first  Georgick 4. 

108. 

Apr.  13  [1775],  MAUNDY  THURSDAY  s. 

Of  the  use  of  time  or  of  my  commendation  of  myself  I  thought 
no  more,  but  lost  life  in  restless  nights  and  broken  days,  till  this 
week  awakened  my  attention. 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  ii.  271.  self,  but  I  have  suffered  much  for 

2  '  He   said  to  me  often,'   writes       want  of  it.'    Ib.  iii.  94. 
Boswell,  '  that  the  time  he  spent  in          4  Life,  ii.  288. 

this  tour  was  the  pleasantest  part  of  5  The  day   before   Good   Friday, 

his  life.'     Ib.  v.  405.  Johnson    in    his    Dictionary    gives 

3  He  wrote  to  Boswell  on  Nov.  16,  Maundy  as  the  spelling,  and  quotes 
1776: — 'I  believe  it  is  best  to  throw  Spelman's  derivation  'from  mande, 
life  into  a  method,  that  every  hour  a   hand-basket,   in   which  the   king 
may  bring  its  employment,  and  every  was  accustomed  to  give  alms  to  the 
employment  have  its  hour ...  I  have  poor.'     Mr.   Skeat,    in    his    Etymo- 
not  practised  all  this  prudence  my-  logical  Dictionary ^  deriving  the  word 

This 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  71 

This  year  has  passed  with  very  little  improvement  perhaps 
with  diminution  of  knowledge.  Much  time  I  have  not  left. 
Infirmities  oppress  me.  But  much  remains  to  be  done.  I  hope 
to  rise  at  eight  or  sooner  in  the  morning. 

109. 

Apr.  14,  GOOD  FRIDAY. 

Boswel  came  in  before  I  was  up.  We  breakfasted,  I  only 
drank  tea  without  milk  or  bread z.  We  went  to  Church,  saw 
Dr.  Wetherel 2  in  the  pew,  and  by  his  desire  took  him  home 
with  us.  He  did  not  go  very  soon,  and  Boswel  staid.  Dilly  and 
Millar  called  3.  Boswel  and  I  went  to  Church,  but  came  very 
late.  We  then  took  tea,  by  Boswel's  desire,  and  I  eat  one  bun, 
I  think,  that  I  might  not  seem  to  fast  ostentatiously.  Boswel 
sat  with  me  till  night ;  we  had  some  serious  talk 4.  When  he 
went  I  gave  Francis5  some  directions  for  preparation  to  com 
municate.  Thus  has  passed  hitherto  this  awful  day. 

110. 

10°  30'  p.m. 

hen   I    look   back   upon   resolutions   of  improvement   and 
i-\  amendments,  which  have  year  after  year  been  made  and  broken, 
Jeither  by  negligence,  forgetfulness,  vicious  idleness,  casual  inter- 
/  ruption,  or  morbid  infirmity,  when  I  find  that  so  much  of  my  life 
has  stolen  unprofitably  away,  and  that  I  can  descry  by  retro 
spection  scarcely  a  few  single  days  properly  and  vigorously  em 
ployed6,  why  do  I  yet  try  to  resolve  again?     I  try  because 

from    mandatum,  says,   '  Spelman's  Dean  of  Hereford.    Ib.  ii.  356. 

guess  is  as  false  as  it  is  readily  be-  3  This  passage  is  scored  out  in  the 

lieved.'  original.     Dilly  and  Millar  were  the 

1  '  On    Friday,    April    14,    being  two    publishers.     Boswell   mentions 
Good-Friday,  I  repaired  to  him  in  two  gentlemen  calling,  one  of  whom 
the  morning,  according  to  my  usual  uttered  a '  common-place  complaint ' 
custom  on  that  day,  and  breakfasted  which  Johnson  ridiculed.    Ib.  ii-357. 
with  him.     I  observed  that  he  fasted  4  Ib. 

so  very  strictly,  that  he  did  not  even          5  His  black  servant.    Ib.  ii.  359. 
taste  bread,  and  took  no  milk  with          6  Grotius  at  the   end  of  life  ex- 

his  tea  ;    I  suppose  because  it  is  a  claimed  :    '  Heu  !     vitam     perdidi ; 

kind  of  animal  food.'    Life,  ii.  352.  operose  nihil   agendo.'     Chalmers's 

2  Nathan  Wetherell,  D.D.,  Master  Brit.  Essayists,  vol.  xvi.  p.  lix. 
of  University  College,  Oxford,  and 

Reformation 


72  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

^Reformation    is   necessary   and   despair   is   criminal.     I   try  in 

^  humble  hope  of  the  help  of  God. 

~~  As  my  life  has  from  my  earliest  years  been  wasted  in  a  morn 
ing  bed  my  purpose  is  from  Easter  day  to  rise  early,  not  later 

than  eight. 

11°  15' p.m.  D.j. 

111. 

Apr.  15,  EASTER  EVE. 

I  rose  more  early  than  is  common  after  a  night  disturbed  by 
flatulencies  though  I  had  taken  so  little.  I  prayed,  but  my  mind 
was  unsettled,  and  I  did  not  fix  upon  the  book.  After  the  bread 
and  tea  I  trifled,  and  about  three  ordered  coffee  and  bunns  for 
my  dinner.  I  find  more  faintness  and  uneasiness  in  fasting  than 
I  did  formerly. 

While  coffee  was  preparing,  Collier1  came  in,  a  man  whom 
I  had  not  seen  for  more  than  twenty  years,  but  whom  I  consulted 
about  Macky's  books.  We  talked  of  old  friends  and  past  occur 
rences  and  eat  and  drank  together. 

I  then  read  a  little  in  the  Testament,  and  tried  Fiddes's  B.  of 
Divinity 2,  but  did  not  settle. 

I  then  went  to  Evening  prayer,  and  was  tolerably  composed. 
At  my  return  I  sat  awhile,  then  retired,  but  found  reading  un 
easy. 

ii  p.m. 

These  two  days  in  which  I  fasted,  I  have  not  been  sleepy, 
though  I  rested  ill. 


1  According  to   the    Gentleman's  tica,    1718-20.     He   was    presented 
Magazine,  1785,  p.  731,  Dr.  Collier  with  the  living  of  Halsham  in  York- 
of  Doctors'  Commons ;   but  he  did  shire.     '  Here  he  was  so  unhappy  as 
not  die  till  May  23,  1777  (Letters,  ii.  to  be  deprived  in  a  great  measure  of 
69),    whereas    Johnson    records    on  his  speech,  till  which  misfortune  he 
April  7,  1776  (post,  p.  73),  'Collier  had  been  admired  for  the  sweetness 
is  dead.'    Joseph  Collyer,  an  author,  of  his  voice  and  the  gracefulness  of 
died  on  Feb.  20,  1776.     Gent.  Mag.  his    delivery.'     He    thereupon    *re- 
1776,  p.  95.  solved  to  apply  himself  entirely  to 

2  Richard  Fiddes,  1671-1725.  His  writing.'  Bayle's  General Dictionary ', 
Body  of  Divinity  is  in  two  volumes  1737,    v.    238.    See    also    Hearne's 
folio;    vol.   i   is   entitled    Theologia  Remains,  ed.  1869,  ii.  223. 
Speculativa  ;  vol.  ii,  Theologia  Prac- 

Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  73 


112. 

EASTER  DAY,  Apr.  16,  12°  3'. 

Almighty  God,  heavenly  Father,  whose  mercy  is  over  all  thy 
works,  look  with  pity  on  my  miseries  and  sins.  Suffer  me  to 
commemorate  in  thy  presence  my  redemption  by  thy  Son  Jesus 
Christ.  Enable  me  so  to  repent  of  my  mispent  time  that  I  may 
pass  the  residue  of  my  life  in  thy  fear  and  to  thy  glory.  Relieve, 
O  Lord,  as  seemeth  best  unto  thee,  the  infirmities  of  my  body, 
and  the  perturbations  of  my  mind.  Fill  my  thoughts  with  awful 
love  of  thy  Goodness,  with  just  fear  of  thine  Anger,  and  with 
humble  confidence  in  thy  Mercy.  Let  me  study  thy  laws,  and 
labour  in  the  duties  which  thou  shalt  set  before  me.  Take  not 
from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  incite  in  me  such  good  desires  as 
may  produce  diligent  endeavours  after  thy  Glory  and  my  own 
salvation ;  and  when,  after  hopes  and  fears,  and  joys  and  sorrows 
thou  shalt  call  me  hence,  receive  me  to  eternal  happiness,  for  the 
Sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

Collier  is  dead1.     April  7,  1776. 

Transcribed  from  a  former  book  with  a  slight  emendation  or 
two.  With  that  book  I  parted  perhaps  unnecessarily  by  a 
Catch 2. 

113. 

Sept.  18,  1775. 

0  God  by  whom  all  things  were  created  and  are  sustained, 
who  givest  and  takest  away,  in  whose  hands  are  life  and  death, 
accept  my  imperfect  thanks  for  the  length  of  days  which  thou 
hast  vouchsafed  to  grant  me,  impress  upon  my  mind  such  repent 
ance  of  the  time  mispent  in  sinfulness  and  negligence,  that  I  may 
obtain  forgiveness  of  all  my  offences,  and  so  calm  my  mind  and 
strengthen  my  resolutions  that  I  may  live  the  remaining  part  of 
my  life  in  thy  fear,  and  with  thy  favour.     Take  not  thy  Holy 
Spirit  from  me,  but  let  me  so  love  thy  laws,  and  so  obey  them, 
that  I  may   finally  be  received   to  eternal   happiness,  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 

1  Ante,  p.  72.  that  caught  hold  of  him.  Dr.  Murray 

2  I  do  not  know  in  what  sense  he  in  the  New  English  Dictionary  gives 
uses  this  word.  Perhaps  he  means  by  as  one  of  its  significations,  *  a  catch- 
a  sudden  impulse,  or  by  some  scruple  ing  or  entangling  question.' 

Composed 


74  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

Composed  at  Calais  in  a  sleepless  night,  and  used  before  the 
morn  at  Notre  Dame T,  written  at  St.  Omers. 

114. 

Jan.  i,  1776. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  who  hast  permitted  me  to  see 
the  beginning  of  another  year,  grant  that  the  time  which  thou 
shalt  yet  afford  me  may  be  spent  to  thy  glory,  and  the  salvation 
of  my  own  Soul.  Strengthen  all  good  resolutions.  Take  not 
from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  have  mercy  upon  me,  and  shed 
thy  Blessing  both  on  my  soul  and  body,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

115. 

1776,  Apr.  7,  EASTER  DAY. 

The  time  is  again  at  which,  since  the  death  of  my  poor  dear 
Tetty,  on  whom  God  have  mercy,  I  have  annually  commemo 
rated  the  mystery  of  Redemption,  and   annually  purposed  to 
nd  my  life.     My  reigning  sin,  to  which  perhaps  many  others 
/    are  appendant,  is  waste  of  time,  and   general  sluggishness,  to 
L  which  I  was  always  inclined,  and  in  part  of  my  life  have  been 
1  almost   compelled   by  morbid  melancholy   and    disturbance   of 
/  mind.     Melancholy  has  had  in  me  its  paroxisms  and  remissions, 
I    but  I  have  not  improved  the  intervals,  nor  sufficiently  resisted 
\my  natural  inclination,  or  sickly  habits.     I  will  resolve  hence 
forth  to  rise  at  eight   in   the  morning,  so  far  as  resolution  is 
proper2,  and  will  pray  that  God  will  strengthen  me.     I   have 
begun  this  morning. 

Though  for  the  past  week  I  have  had  an  anxious  design  of 
communicating  to-day,  I  performed  no  particular  act  of  devotion, 
till  on  Friday  I  went  to  Church.  My  design  was  to  pass  part 
of  the  day  in  exercises  of  piety,  but  Mr.  Boswel  interrupted  me ; 

1  For  his    journey  to   Paris    see  She  describes  the  start  from  the  inn 

Life,  ii.  384-404.  He  wrote  to  Levett  for  Paris  : — '  Postillions  with  greasy 

from  Paris  : — '  We  are  here  in  France  night-caps  and  vast  jack-boots,  driv- 

after  a  very  pleasing  passage  of  no  ing   your   carriage    harnessed   with 

more  than   six  hours.'     Ib.   p.   385.  ropes,  and  adorned  with  sheep-skins.' 

Mrs.    Piozzi,  when    she   crossed  to  Journey  through  France,  i.  i,  5. 

Calais    nineteen    years    later,    took  2  Ante,  p.  67. 
twenty-six   hours    on   the    passage. 

of 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  75 

of  him,  however,  I  could  have  rid  myself,  but  poor  Thrale,  orbus 
et  exspes,  came  for  comfort  and  sat  till  seven  when  we  all  went 
to  Church  *. 

In  the  morning  I  had  at  Church  some  radiations  of  comfort. 

I  fasted  though  less  rigorously  than  at  other  times.  I  by 
negligence  poured  milk  into  the  tea,  and,  in  the  afternoon  drank 
one  dish  of  coffee  with  Thrale 2 ;  yet  at  night,  after  a  fit  of 
drowsiness  I  felt  myself  very  much  disordered  by  emptiness, 
and  called  for  tea  with  peevish  and  impatient  eagerness.  My 
distress  was  very  great. 

Yesterday  I  do  not  recollect  that  to  go  to  Church  came  into 
my  thoughts,  but  I  sat  in  my  chamber,  preparing  for  pre 
paration  ;  interrupted,  I  know  not  how.  I  was  near  two  hours 
at  dinner. 

I  go  now  with  hope 

To  rise  in  the  morning  at  eight. 

To  use  my  remaining  time  with  diligence. 

To  study  more  accurately  the  Christian  Religion. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  preserved  me 
by  thy  tender  forbearance,  once  more  to  commemorate  thy  Love 
in  the  Redemption  of  the  world,  grant  that  I  may  so  live  the 
residue  of  my  days,  as  to  obtain  thy  mercy  when  thou  shalt  call 
me  from  the  present  state.  Illuminate  my  thoughts  with  know 
ledge,  and  inflame  my  heart  with  holy  desires.  Grant  me  to 
resolve  well,  and  keep  my  resolutions.  Take  not  from  me  thy 


1  Thrale  had  lost  his  only  surviving  composure.    There  was  no  affecta- 

son  on  March  23  of  this  year.    Life,  tion  about  him,  and  he  talked,  as 

ii.    468;    Letters,    i.    381.      Baretti  usual,    upon     indifferent    subjects.' 

shows   how  he  was  both  orbus  et  Life,  iii.  18. 

exspes.  '  Having  now  lost  the  strong  2  '  We  sat  together  till  it  was  too 
hope  of  being  one  day  succeeded  in  late  for  the  afternoon  service.  Thrale 
the  profitable  Brewery  by  the  only  said  he  had  come  with  intention  to 
son  he  had  left,  he  gave  himself  go  to  church  with  us.  We  went  at 
silently  up  to  his  grief  and  fell  in  seven  to  evening  prayers  at  St.  Cle- 
a  few  years  a  victim  to  it.'  Id.  i.  ment's  church,  after  having  drank 
384,  n.  2.  Boswell  records  on  this  coffee;  an  indulgence, which  I  under- 
Good  Friday : — '  Mr.  Thrale  called  stood  Johnson  yielded  to  on  this 
upon  Dr.  Johnson,  and  appeared  to  occasion,  in  compliment  to  Thrale.' 
bear  the  loss  of  his  son  with  a  manly  Ib.  iii.  24. 

Holy 


76  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

Holy  Spirit,  but  in  life  and  in  death  have  mercy  on  me  for  Jesus 
Christs  sake.  Amen. 

acts  of  forgiveness  *. 

p.  m.  In  the  pew  I  read  my  prayer  and  commended  my 
friends,  and  those  that  02  this  year.  At  the  Altar  I  was  generally 
attentive,  some  thoughts  of  vanity  came  into  my  mind  while 
others  were  communicating,  but  I  found  when  I  considered 
them,  that  they  did  not  tend  to  irreverence  of  God.  At  the 
altar  I  renewed  my  resolutions.  When  I  received,  some  tender 
images  struck  me.  I  was  so  mollified  by  the  concluding  address 
to  our  Saviour  that  I  could  not  utter  it 3.  The  Communicants 
were  mostly  women.  At  intervals  I  read  collects,  and  recol 
lected,  as  I  could,  my  prayer.  Since  my  return  I  have  said  it. 
2  p.m. 

May  21. 

These  resolutions  I  have  not  practised  nor  recollected.  O  God 
grant  me  to  begin  now  for  Jesus  Christ's  Sake.  Amen. 

116. 

July  25,  1776. 

0  God  who  hast  ordained  that  whatever  is  to  be  desired, 
should  be  sought  by  labour,  and  who,  by  thy  Blessing,  bringest 

1  In  Jeremy  Taylor's  Holy  Living,  takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world, 
under  the  heading  of  A  prayer  of  receive  our  prayer.  Thou  that  sittest 
preparation  or  address  to  the  holy  at  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father, 
sacrament,  we  find  An  act  of  love;  have  mercy  upon  us. 

An  act  of  desire  ;   An  act  of  con-  For  thou  only  art  holy ;  Thou  only 

tritionj  An  act  of  faith.     I  do  not  art  the  Lord ;  Thou  only,  O  Christ, 

find  in  the  Dictionaries  any  defini-  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  art  most  high 

tion  of  act  as  here  used.  in  the  glory  of  God  the  Father.' 

2  Strahan    prints    'died,'    though  Johnson  defines  to  mollify  ' to  ap- 
'  died' it  certainly  is  not.  What  John-  pease;  to  pacify;   to  quiet.'     Here 
son  wrote  was  the   Greek   letter  6.  he  must  use  mollified  in  the  sense  of 
For  an  explanation  of  this  see  post,  affected  or  touched. 

p.  89.  Boswell,   who,  'according  to  his 

3  '  O  Lord,  the  only  begotten  Son  usual   custom  '   on   Easter   Sunday, 
Jesu   Christ ;    O  Lord   God,    Lamb  visited   him  after   morning    service, 
of  God,    Son    of  the    Father,   that  records  :—' It  seemed  to  me  that  there 
takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  was  always  something  peculiarly  mild 
have  mercy  upon   us.      Thou  that  and  placid  in  his  manner  upon  this 
takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  holy  festival.'     Life,  iii.  25. 

have    mercy  upon  us.     Thou   that 

honest 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  77 

honest  labour  to  good  effect ;  look  with  mercy  upon  my  studies 
and  endeavours.  Grant  me,  O  Lord,  to  design  only  what  is 
lawful  and  right,  and  afford  me  calmness  of  mind,  and  steadiness 
of  purpose,  that  I  may  so  do  thy  will  in  this  short  life,  as  to 
obtain  happiness  in  the  world  to  come,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

When  I  purposed  to  apply  vigorously  to  study  particularly  of 
the  Greek  and  Italian  tongues x. 

Repeated  July  3,  — 77  about  12  at  night. 


117. 

2  p.m.,  fan.  I,  1777. 

Almighty  Lord,  merciful  Father  vouchsafe  to  accept  the 
thanks  which  I  now  presume  to  offer  thee  for  the  prolongation 
of  my  life.  Grant,  O  Lord,  that  as  my  days  are  multiplied,  my 
good  resolutions  may  be  strengthened,  my  power  of  resisting 
temptations  encreased,  and  my  struggles  with  snares  and  ob 
structions  invigorated.  Relieve  the  infirmities  both  of  my  mind 
and  body.  Grant  me  such  strength  as  my  duties  may  require 
and  such  diligence  as  may  improve  those  opportunities  of  good 
that  shall  be  offered  me.  Deliver  me  from  the  intrusion  of  evil 
thoughts.  Grant  me  true  repentance  of  my  past  life,  and  as 
I  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  grave,  strengthen  my  Faith, 
enliven  my  Hope,  extend  my  Charity,  and  purify  my  desires, 
and  so  help  me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit  that  when  it  shall  be  thy 
pleasure  to  call  me  hence,  I  may  be  received  to  everlasting 
happiness,  for  the  sake  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

Our  Father. 

118. 

1777,  March  28. 

This  day  is  Good  Friday.  It  is  likewise  the  day  on  which  my 
poor  Tetty  was  taken  from  me. 

My  thoughts  were  disturbed  in  bed.    I  remembered  that  it  was 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  90.  and  of  seeing  you  and  of  reading 

Not  four  months  before  his  death      Petrarch  at  Bolt  Court.'    Letters,  ii. 

he  wrote  to  Mr.  Sastres:— 'I  have      417. 

hope  of  standing  the  English  winter, 

my 


78  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

my  Wife's  dying  day,  and  begged  pardon  for  all  our  sins,  and 
commended  her ;  but  resolved  to  mix  little  of  my  own  sorrows 
or  cares  with  the  great  Solemnity.  Having  taken  only  tea 
without  milk,  I  went  to  church,  had  time  before  service  to 
commend  my  wife,  and  wished  to  join  quietly  in  the  service,  but 
I  did  not  hear  well,  and  my  mind  grew  unsettled  and  perplexed. 
Having  rested  ill  in  the  night1,  I  slumbered  at  the  sermon, 
which,  I  think,  I  could  not  as  I  sat,  perfectly  hear. 

I  returned  home,  but  could  not  settle  my  mind.  At  last 
I  read  a  Chapter.  Then  went  down,  about  six  or  seven  and 
eat  two  cross  buns 2,  and  drank  tea.  Fasting  for  some  time  has 
been  uneasy  and  I  have  taken  but  little. 

At  night  I  had  some  ease.  L.  D. 3  I  had  prayed  for  pardon 
and  peace. 

I  slept  in  the  afternoon. 

119. 

29,  EASTER  EVE. 

I  rose  and  again  prayed  with  reference  to  my  departed  Wife. 
I  neither  read  nor  went  to  Church,  yet  can  scarcely  tell  how 
I  have  been  hindered.  I  treated  with  booksellers  on  a  bargain, 
but  the  time  was  not  long 4. 

120. 

30,  EASTER  DAY,  ima  mane. 

The  day  is  now  come  again  in  which,  by  a  custom  which  since 
the  death  of  my  wife  I  have  by  the  Divine  assistance  always 
observed,  I  am  to  renew  the  great  covenant  with  my  Maker  and 
my  Judge.  I  humbly  hope  to  perform  it  better.  I  hope  for 
more  efficacy  of  resolution,  and  more  diligence  of  endeavour. 
When  I  survey  my  past  life,  I  discover  nothing  but  a  barren 
waste  of  time  with  some  disorders  of  body,  and  disturbances 
of  the  mind  very  near  to  madness,  which  I  hope  he  that  made 
me,  will  suffer  to  extenuate  many  faults,  and  excuse  many 

1  On  March  19  he  had  written  to      Johnson's  Dictionary. 
Mrs.  Thrale : — *  You   are  all  young          3  Laus  Deo. 

and  gay  and  easy ;  but  I  have  miser-  4  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  109. 

able  nights   and   know  not  how  to  The  treaty  was  about  the  Lives  of 

make  them  better.' — Letters,  ii.  5.  the  Poets.    Id. 

2  Neither  cross-bun  nor  bun  is  in 

deficiencies. 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  79 

deficiencies  x.  Yet  much  remains  to  be  repented  and  reformed. 
I  hope  that  I  refer  more  to  God  than  in  former  times,  and 
consider  more  what  submission  is  due  to  his  dispensations.  But 
I  have  very  little  reformed  my  practical  life,  and  the  time  in 
which  I  can  struggle  with  habits  cannot  be  now  expected  to  be 
long.  Grant  O  God,  that  I  may  no  longer  resolve  in  vain,  or 
dream  away  the  life  which  thy  indulgence  gives  me,  in  vacancy 
and  uselessness. 

9na  mane. 

I  went  to  bed  about  two,  had  a  disturbed  night,  though  not  so 
distressful  as  at  some  other  times. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  seest  all  our  miseries, 
and  knowest  all  our  necessities,  Look  down  upon  me.  and  pity 
me.  Defend  me  from  the  violent  incursions  of  evil  thoughts, 
and  enable  me  to  form  and  keep  such  resolutions  as  may  conduce 
to  the  discharge  of  the  duties  which  thy  Providence  shall  appoint 
me,  and  so  help  me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  my  heart  may 
surely  there  be  fixed  where  true  joys  are  to  be  found,  and  that 
I  may  serve  Thee  with  pure  affection  and  a  cheerful  mind. 
Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  have  mercy  upon  me ;  years  and 
infirmities  oppress  me,  terrour  and  anxiety  beset  me.  Have 
mercy  upon  me,  my  Creatour  and  my  Judge.  In  all  dangers 
protect  me,  in  all  perplexities  relieve  and  free  me,  and  so  help 
me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  may  now  so  commemorate  the 
death  of  thy  Son  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  as  that  when  this 
short  and  painful  life  shall  have  an  end,  I  may  for  his  sake  be 
received  to  everlasting  happiness.  Amen 2. 

121. 

April  6  [177  7]. 

By  one  strange  hindrance  or  another,  I  have  been  withheld 
from  the  continuation  of  my  thoughts  to  this  day,  the  Sunday 
following  Easter  day. 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  99.  common  name  to  all.'    Anatomy  of 

For  *  the  disturbances  of  the  mind '      Melancholy,  ed.  1660,  Introduction, 

see  Life,  i.  65  ;  v.  215  ;  and  Letters^      p.  18. 

i.  39.     '  Folly,  melancholy,  madness          2  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  99. 

are  but  one  disease.    Delirium  is  a 

On 


8o  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

On  Easter  day  I  was  at  Church  early,  and  there  prayed  over 
my  Prayer,  and  commended  Tetty  and  my  other  Friends.     I  was 
for  some  time  much  distressed,  but  at  last  obtained,  I  hope  from 
the  God  of  peace,  more  quiet  than  I  have  enjoyed  for  a  long 
time.     I  had  made  no  resolution,  but  as  my  heart  grew  lighter, 
my  hopes  revived  and  my  courage  increased,  and  I  wrote  with 
my  pencil  in  my  common  prayer  book, 
Vita  ordinanda. 
Biblia  legenda. 
Theologiae  opera  danda. 
Serviendum  et  laetandum  x. 
Scrupulis  obsistendum. 

I  then  went  to  the  altar,  having  I  believe,  again  read  my 
prayer.  I  then  went  to  the  table  and  communicated,  praying 
for  some  time  afterwards,  but  the  particular  matter  of  my  prayer 
I  do  not  remember. 

I  dined  by  an  appointment  with  Mrs.  Gardiner 2,  and  passed 
the  afternoon  with  such  calm  gladness  of  Mind  as  it  is  very  long 
since  I  felt  before.  I  came  home  and  began  to  read  the  Bible. 
I  passed  the  night  in  such  sweet  uninterrupted  sleep,  as  I  have 
not  known  since  I  slept  at  Fort  Augustus 3. 

On  Monday  I  dined  with  Sheward4,  on  Tuesday  with  Para 
dise  5 ;  the  mornings  have  been  devoured  by  company,  and  one 
intrusion  has  through  the  whole  week  succeeded  to  another. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  year  I  proposed  to  myself  a  scheme  of 
life,  and  a  plan  of  study,  but  neither  life  has  been  rectified  nor 
study  followed.  Days  and  months  pass  in  a  dream,  and  I  am 
afraid  that  my  memory  grows  less  tenacious,  and  my  observation 
less  attentive.  If  I  am  decaying,  it  is  time  to  make  haste.  My 
nights  are  restless  and  tedious,  and  my  days  drowsy.  The 
flatulence  which  torments  me,  has  sometimes  so  obstructed  my 

1  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  99.  Ib.  v.  134.    For  another  good  night's 

2  '  The  wife  of  a  tallow-chandler      rest  see  ante,  p.  44. 

on   Snow   Hill,  not  in  the  learned  4  Mentioned/^/,  p.  102.    Johnson 

way,  but    a  worthy  good   woman.'  twice  mentions  a   Mrs.   Sheward  in 

Ib.  \.  242.  his  Letters,  ii.  310,  314. 

3  Where  he  arrived  after  a  ride  of  5  Life,  iv.  364,  and  Letters^  i.  314. 
thirty-two   miles  on  Aug.  30,  1773. 

breath, 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  81 

breath,  that  the  act  of  respiration  became  not  only  voluntary 
but  laborious  in  a  decumbent  posture1.  By  copious  bleeding 
I  was  relieved,  but  not  cured  2. 

I  have  this  year  omitted  church  on  most  Sundays,  intending 
to  supply  the  deficience  in  the  week.  So  that  I  owe  twelve 
attendances  on  worship 3.  I  will  make  no  more  such  super 
stitious  stipulations,  which  entangle  the  mind  with  unbidden 
obligations  4. 

My  purpose  once  more,  O  Thou  merciful  Creatour  that 
governest  all  our  hearts  and  actions,  /3iorrjs  0117*0  Kvpepv&v 5,  let 
not  my  purpose  be  vain — My  purpose  once  more  is 

To  rise  at  eight. 

i.  To  keep  a  journal. 

a.  To  read  the  whole  Bible  in  some  language  before  Easter. 

3.  To  gather  the  arguments  for  Christianity6. 

4.  To  worship  God  more  frequently  in  publick. 

122. 

Sept.  1 8,  1777,  Ashbourn7. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  brought  me  to 
the  beginning  of  another  year,  grant  me  so  to  remember  thy 

1  Voluntary  is  a  strange  term  to  man  !  one  would  think  that  to  pray 

use  of  breathing.  Decumbent  is  not  for  his  dead  wife  and  to  pinch  him- 

in  Johnson's  Dictionary.  self  with  church  fasts  had  been 

a  Life,  iii.  104 ;  Letters,  ii.  1-2 ;  almost  the  whole  of  his  religion.' 

and  ante,  p.  64.  Cowper's  Works,  ed.  1836,  v.  157. 

3  There  had    been    but   fourteen  5  Steering  the  helm  of  life. 
Sundays   so  far  in  this   year.     See  6  Boswell  on  the  Sunday  evening 
ante,  p.  56.  which    he    and    Johnson    spent   in 

4  Ante,  p.  25.     Cowper  wrote  on  Aberdeen  in  August,  1773,  records  : — 
Aug.   27,    1785: — 'If  it   be    fair  to  'I  said  he  should  write  expressly  in 
judge  of  a  book  by  an  extract  I  do  support    of    Christianity ;    for  that, 
not  wonder  that  you  were  so  little  although  a  reverence  for  it  shines 
edified  by  Johnson's  journal.     It  is  through  his  works  in  several  places, 
even  more  ridiculous  than  was  poor  that  is  not  enough.  "  You  know  (said 

sof  flatulent  memory  [Dr.  Rutty,  I)  what  Grotius  has  done,  and  what 

Life,  iii.    171].      The   portion  of  it  Addison  has  done.     You  should  do 

given  us  in  this  day's   paper   con-  also."  He  replied,  "  I  hope  I  shall." ' 

tains  not  one  sentiment  worth  one  Life,  v.  89. 

farthing ;  except  the  last,  in  which  7  He  spent  his  birthday  with  Bos- 
he  resolves  to  bind  himself  with  no  well  at  Dr.  Taylor's.  Ib.  iii.  157; 
more  unbidden  obligations.  Poor  Letters,  ii.  33. 

VOL.  I.  G  gifts, 


82  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

gifts,  and  so  to  acknowledge  thy  goodness,  as  that  every  year 
and  day  which  thou  shalt  yet  grant  me,  may  be  employed  in  the 
amendment  of  my  life,  and  in  the  diligent  discharge  of  such 
duties,  as  thy  Providence  shall  allot  me.  Grant  me,  by  thy 
Grace,  to  know  and  to  do  what  Thou  requirest.  Give  me  good 
desires,  and  remove  those  impediments  which  may  hinder  them 
from  effect.  Forgive  me  my  sins,  negligences,  and  ignorances, 
and  when  at  last  thou  shalt  call  me  to  another  life,  receive  me 
to  everlasting  happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

Amen. 

123. 

'77  Sept.  31,  Concio  pro  Tayloro1. 

124. 

1778,  Apr.  17,  GOOD  FRIDAY. 

It  has  happened  this  week,  as  it  never  happened  in  Passion 
Week  before,  that  I  have  never  dined  at  home2,  and  I  have 
therefore  neither  practised  abstinence  nor  peculiar  devotion. 

This  Morning  before  I  went  to  bed  I  enlarged  my  prayers, 
by  adding  some  collects  with  reference  to  the  day.  I  rested 
moderately  and  rose  about  nine,  which  is  more  early  than  is 


2.  p.  392.   Bos-  my   expressing  some    surprise  that 

well,  under  date  of  Sunday,  Sept.  21,  the  preachers  of  them  should  hazard 

says  :  —  '  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  good  such  an  imposition,  he  replied,  "  Nay, 

many  sermons   were   composed  for  Sir,  there  was  no  hazard,  if  they  kept 

Taylor  by  Johnson.      At  this  time  their  own  counsel;   they  might  be 

I  found  upon  his  table  a  part  of  one  very  sure  I  should  not  claim  them  ; 

which  he  had  newly  begun  to  write.'  indeed  I  had  no  right  to  them  after 

Life,  iii.  181.     See  also  Ib.  vi  ;  Ad-  I  had  been  paid  for  them."     He  also 

denda,    p.    66.     In    an    interleaved  added    that    they    were    generally 

copy  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Life  copied   in  his   own   study  by  those 

in  the    possession   of  Mr.    Horatio  that     employed     him,     and     when 

Symonds  of  Beaumont   Street,  Ox-  finished  he    always    destroyed    the 

ford,  I  have  found  the  following  note  original  in  their  presence.' 

made  (with  many  others)  I  have  no  2  In    Passion   Week  three    years 

doubt  by  the    Rev.   John    Hussey,  later  he  dined  on  Wednesday  at  one 

*  who  had  long  been  in  habits  of  in-  Bishop's,  and   on  Thursday  at   an- 

timacy    with    Johnson.'     (Life,    iii.  other  Bishop's.      Boswell   describes 

369).     *  Johnson   not   only  told   me  '  the  admirable  sophistry  '  with  which 

that   he  had  written,  he    believed,  he  defended  his  conduct.    Life,  iv. 

forty  sermons,  but  that  several  of  89. 
them    had    been  published.    Upon 

usuai. 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  83 

usual.  I  think  I  added  something  to  my  morning  prayers. 
Boswel  came  in  to  go  to  church I ;  we  had  tea,  but  I  did  not  eat. 
Talk  lost  our  time,  and  we  came  to  Church  late,  at  the  second 
lesson.  My  mind  has  been  for  some  time  feeble  and  impressible, 
and  some  trouble  it  gave  me  in  the  morning,  but  I  went  with 
some  confidence  and  calmness  through  the  prayers. 

In  my  return  from  Church,  I  was  accosted  by  Edwards,  an 
old  fellow  Collegian,  who  had  not  seen  me  since  — 29.  He 
knew  me,  and  asked  if  I  remembered  one  Edwards,  I  did  not 
at  first  recollect  the  name,  but  gradually  as  we  walked  along 
recovered  it,  and  told  him  a  conversation  that  had  passed  at  an 
alehouse  between  us 2.  My  purpose  is  to  continue  our  acquaint 
ance. 

We  sat  till  the  time  of  worship  in  the  afternoon,  and  then 
came  again  late  at  the  Psalms.  Not  easily,  I  think,  hearing  the 
sermon,  or  not  being  attentive,  I  fell  asleep.  When  we  came 
home  we  had  tea  and  I  eat  two  buns,  being  somewhat  uneasy 
with  fasting,  and  not  being  alone.  If  I  had  not  been  observed 
I  should  probably  have  fasted. 

125. 

April  19,  EASTER  DAY,  after  12  at  night. 

0  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Yesterday  (18)  I  rose  late  having  not  slept  ill.  Having 
promised. a  Dedication,  I  thought  it  necessary  to  write,  but  for 
some  time  neither  wrote  nor  read.  Langton  came  in  and  talked. 
After  dinner  I  wrote.  At  tea  Boswel  came  in  and  wrote  to 
^lacaulay  about  his  son 3.  He  staid  till  nearly  twelve  4. 

1  '  It  was  a  delightful  day :  as  we      to  get  a  servitorship  at  Oxford  for 
walked    to    St.    Clement's    church,       the  son  of  the  Rev.  Kenneth  Macau- 
I  again  remarked  that   Fleet-street      lay.     Life,  ii.  380;  v.  122. 

was  the  most  cheerful  scene  in  the  4  He   stayed   so  late   in   spite  of 

world.     "  Fleet-street  (said  I,)  is  in  *  the  horrible  shock '  which  Johnson 

my  mind  more  delightful  than  Tern-  gave  him.     '  We  talked  of  a  gentle- 

pe."    JOHNSON.  "Ay,  Sir;  but  let  it  man  who  was  running  out  his  for- 

be  compared  with  Mull." '    Life,  iii.  tune  in  London ;  and  I  said,  "  We 

302.  must    get  him   out   of  it.     All    his 

2  If),  iii.  304.  friends  must  quarrel  with  him,  and 

3  These  words  are  scored  out  in  that    will    soon    drive    him    away." 
the  original.     Johnson  had  promised  JOHNSON.    "  Nay,   Sir ;    we'll   send 

G  2  I  purposed 


84  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

I  purposed  to  have  gone  in  the  evening  to  Church  but  missed 
the  hour. 

Edwards  observed  how  many  we  have  outlived '.  I  hope,  yet 
hope,  that  my  future  life  shall  be  better  than  my  past. 

From  the  year  1752,  the  year  in  which  my  poor  dear  Tetty 
died,  upon  whose  soul  may  God  have  had  mercy  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ,  I  have  received  the  sacrament  every  year  at  Easter. 
My  purpose  is  to  receive  it  now.  O  Lord  God,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ,  make  it  effectual  to  my  salvation. 
My  purposes  are 

To  study  Divinity,  particularly  the  Evidences  of  Christianity. 

To  read  the  New  Testament  over  in  the  year  with  more  use 
than  hitherto  of  Commentators. 

To  be  diligent  in  my  undertakings. 

To  serve  and  trust  God,  and  be  cheerful 2. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  suffer  me  once  more  to 
commemorate  the  death  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  my  Saviour 
and  Redeemer,  and  make  the  memorial  of  his  death  profitable 
to  my  salvation,  by  strengthening  my  Faith  in  his  merits,  and 
quickening  my  obedience  to  his  laws.  Remove  from  me,  O  God, 
all  inordinate  desires,  all  corrupt  passions,  &  all  vain  terrours ; 
and  fill  me  with  zeal  for  thy  glory,  and  with  confidence  in  thy 
mercy.  Make  me  to  love  all  men,  and  enable  me  to  use  thy 
gifts,  whatever  thou  shalt  bestow,  to  the  benefit  of  my  fellow 
creatures.  So  lighten  the  weight  of  years,  and  so  mitigate  the 

you  to  him.     If  your  company  does  but  shook  his  head  with  impatience.' 

not  drive  a  man  out  of  his  house,  Ib.  p.  306. 

nothing  will."'     Life,  iii.  316.  2  Inservi   Deo   et   laetare — Serve 

1  'EDWARDS.    "Ah,  Sir!  we  are  God  and  be  cheerful — is  the  motto 

old    men    now."      JOHNSON    (who  round  the  picture  of  Hacket,  Bishop 

never  liked  to  think  of  being  old),  of  Lichfield  and  Coventry.     Life,  i. 

"  Don't  let   us   discourage   one  an-  344,  n.  4. 

other."  '   Ib.  p.  302.    '  Mr.  Edwards,  Perhaps   Johnson    was  reminded 

when  going  away,  again  recurred  to  of  the  duty  of  cheerfulness  by  Ed- 

his    consciousness    of   senility,   and  wards  who  had  said : — '  You  are  a 

looking  full  in  Johnson's  face  said  philosopher,   Dr.   Johnson.     I   have 

to  him,  "You'll  find  in  Dr.  Young,  tried  too  in  my  time  to  be  a  philo- 

O  my  coevals !  remnants  of  your-  sopher ;     but,    I    don't    know  how, 

selves."  cheerfulness  was  always  breaking  in.' 

Johnson  did  not  relish  this  at  all ;  Ib.  p.  305. 

afflictions 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


afflictions  of  disease  that  I  may  continue  fit  for  thy  service,  and 
useful  in  my  station.  And  so  let  me  pass  through  this  life  by 
the  guidance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  at  last  I  may  enter  into 
eternal  joy,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

126. 

Having  gone  to  bed  about  two  I  rose  about  nine,  and,  having 
prayed,  went  to  Church.  I  came  early  and  used  this  prayer. 
After  sermon  I  again  used  my  Prayer ;  the  collect  for  the  day 
I  repeated  several  times,  at  least  the  petitions.  I  recommended 
my  friends.  At  the  altar  I  prayed  earnestly,  and  when  I  came 
home  prayed  for  pardon  and  peace ;  repeated  my  own  prayer, 
and  added  the  petitions  of  the  Collect. 

0  God  have  mercy  upon  me,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

At  my  return  home,  I  returned  thanks  for  the  opportunity  of 
Communion. 

1  was  called  down  to  Mrs.  Nollikens x.     Boswel  came  in 2 ; 
then   Dinner.     After  dinner  which  I   believe  was  late,  I  read 
the  First  Epistle  to  Thess. ;   then  went  to  Evening  prayers ; 
then  came  to  tea,  and  afterwards  tried  Vossius  de  Baptismo3. 
I  was  sleepy. 

127. 

Monday,  Apr.  20  [1778]. 

After  a  good  night,  as  I  am  forced  to  reckon,  I  rose  season 
ably,  and  prayed,  using  the  collect  for  yesterday. 

In  reviewing  my  time  from  Easter  — 77,  I  find  a  very 
melancholy  and  shameful  blank.  So  little  has  been  done  that 


1  Mrs.  Nollekens,  the  wife  of  Jo 
seph  Nollekens,  '  the  statuary,'  who 
made  a  bust  of  Johnson.  Letters, 
ii.  59,  62.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
Johnson's  friend,  Saunders  Welch, 
the  magistrate.  Life,  iii.  216.  "I 
have  heard  Mr.  Nollekens  say  that 
Dr.  Johnson,  when  joked  about  Mary 
Welch,  observed,  **  Yes,  I  think  Mary 
would  have  been  mine,  if  little  Joe 


had  not  stepped  in."'  Nollekens 
and  his  Times,  by  J.  T.  Smith,  i.  126. 
Smith  gives  many  instances  of  her 
meanness. 

2  Life,  iii.  316. 

3  The  443rd  lot  in  the  sale  cata 
logue  of  Johnson's  library  was  '  Vos- 
sii  dissertationes,  Amst.  1642,'  in  six 
volumes. 

days 


86  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

days  and  months  are  without  any  trace x.  My  health  has  indeed 
been  very  much  interrupted.  My  nights  have  been  commonly 
not  only  restless  but  painful  and  fatiguing.  My  respiration  was 
once  so  difficult,  that  an  asthma  was  suspected 2.  I  could  not 
walk  but  with  great  difficulty,  from  Stowhill  to  Greenhill3. 
Some  relaxation  of  my  breast  has  been  procured,  I  think,  by 
opium,  which,  though  it  never  gives  me  sleep,  frees  my  breast 
from  spasms  4. 

I  have  written  a  little  of  the  Lives  of  the  poets,  I  think  with  all 
my  usual  vigour 5.  I  have  made  sermons,  perhaps  as  readily  as 
formerly  6.  My  memory  is  less  faithful  in  retaining  names,  and, 
I  am  afraid,  in  retaining  occurrences.  Of  this  vacillation  and 
vagrancy  of  mind  I  impute  a  great  part  to  a  fortuitous  and  un 
settled  life,  and  therefore  purpose  to  spend  my  time  with  more 
method. 

This  year,  the  a8th  of  March  passed  away  without  memorial. 
Poor  Tetty,  whatever  were  our  faults  and  failings,  we  loved  each 
other.  I  did  not  forget  thee  yesterday.  Couldest  thou  have 
lived ! 

I  am  now,  with  the  help  of  God,  to  begin  a  new  life. 

1  Macaulay  recorded  in  his  Jour-  less  Hawkins  says  that  '  he  had  a 
nal  in  1857: — 'How  the  days  steal  strong    propensity    to    the    use    of 
away  and  nothing  done!     I   think  opium,  which   increased  as   he  ad- 
often  of  Johnson's  lamentations  re-  vanced  in  years  ...  It  was  the  means 
peated  every  Easter  over  his  own  of  positive  pleasure,  and  as  such  was 
idleness.   But  the  cases  differ.  Often  resorted  to  by  him   whenever  any 
I  have  felt  this  morbid  incapacity  to  depression  of  spirits  made  it  neces- 
work ;    but  never  so  long  and    so  sary.'    Life  of  Johnson,  p.  320. 
strong  as  of  late  ;  the  natural  effect  s  He  had  a  proof-sheet  of  his  Life 
of  age  and  ease.'     Trevelyan's  Ma-  of  Waller  on  Good  Friday,  though 
caulay,  ed.  1877,  ii.  447.  It  was  much  he  would  not  look  at  it  on  that  day. 
more  the  effect  of  ill-health.  Life,   iii.  313.     He   seems  to  have 

2  In   the  last  year  of  his  life  he  finished  first  the  Lives  of  Denham, 
suffered     greatly     from     spasmodic  Butler  and  Waller.     Cowley  he  had 
asthma.     Life,  iv.  255.  sent  to  the  printer  by  the  end  of  the 

3  Two  gentle  eminences    on  the  following  July.    Milton  was  not  yet 
outskirts    of   Lichfield.    Letters,    i.  begun  by  that  time,  though  '  in  Dry- 
160,  363.  den    he    was    very    far    advanced.' 

4  For  his  '  horror  of  opiates '  see  Letters,  ii.  68. 
Letters,  ii.  367,  376,  383.    Neverthe-  6  Life,  v.  67. 

Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  87 


128. 

Jan.  I,  1779,  before  one  in  the  morning. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  who  hast  granted  to  me  the 
beginning  of  another  year,  grant  that  I  may  employ  thy  gifts  to 
thy  glory,  and  my  own  salvation.  Excite  me  to  amend  my  life. 
Give  me  good  resolutions,  and  enable  me  to  perform  them. 
As  I  approach  the  Grave  let  my  Faith  be  invigorated,  my  Hope 
exalted,  and  my  Charity  enlarged.  Take  not  from  me  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  but  in  the  course  of  my  life  protect  me,  in  the 
hour  of  death  sustain  me,  and  finally  receive  me  to  everlasting 
happiness,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

129. 

1779,  GOOD  FRIDAY,  Apr.  2. 

After  a  night  restless  and  oppressive,  I  rose  this  morning 
somewhat  earlier  than  is  usual,  and  having  taken  tea  which 
was  very  necessary  to  compose  the  disorder  in  my  breast, 
having  eaten  nothing  I  went  to  church  with  Boswel x.  We  came 
late,  I  was  able  to  attend  the  litany  with  little  perturbation. 
When  we  came  home  I  began  the  first  to  the  Thess.  having 
prayed  by  the  collect  for  the  right  use  of  the  Scriptures.  I  gave 
Boswel  Les  Pense"es  de  Pascal  that  he  might  not  interrupt  me. 
I  did  not,  I  believe,  read  very  diligently,  and  before  I  had  read 
far,  we  went  to  Church  again,  I  was  again  attentive.  At  home 
I  read  again,  then  drank  tea  with  a  bun  and  an  half,  thinking 

1  Boswell  records  of  this  visit,  that  Auchinleck    Library  by  my  friend 
4  finding  that  we  insensibly  fell  into  Mr.  R.  B.  Adam  of  Buffalo  : — 
a  train  of  ridicule  upon  the  foibles  '  James  Boswell 
of  one  of  our  friends,  a  very  worthy  London  1779. 
man,  I,  by  way  of  a  check,  quoted  Presented  to  me   by  my  worthy 
some    good    admonition   from    The  freind     Bennet    Langton    Esq :     of 
Government  of  the  Tongue,  that  very  Langton,  as  a  Book  by  which  I  might 
pious  book.'    Life,  iii.  379.     Worthy  be  much  improved,  viz.  by  the  Go- 
is  almost  always  applied  to  Langton.  verment   of  the  Tongue.     He   gave 
His  foibles  were  a  common  subject  me  the  Book  and    hoped  I   would 
of  their  talk.    Ib.  iii.  48.     Probably  read  that  treatise ;  but  said  no  more, 
the  book  had  been  just    given   to  I  have   expressed  in  words  what  I 
Boswell  by  Langton,  as  may  be  in-  beleive  was  his  meaning.     It  was  a 
ferred  from  the  following  inscription  delicate  admonition.' 
in  a  copy  bought  at  the  sale  of  the 

myself 


88  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

myself  less  able  to  fast,  than  at  former  times ;  and  then  con 
cluded  the  Epistle.  Being  much  oppressed  with  drowsiness, 
I  slept  about  an  hour  by  the  fire. 

ii  p.m. 

I  am  now  to  review  the  last  year,  and  find  little  but 
dismal  vacuity,  neither  business  nor  pleasure ;  much  intended 
and  little  done.  My  health  is  much  broken ;  my  nights  afford 
me  little  rest.  I  have  tried  opium,  but  its  help  is  counter 
balanced  with  great  disturbance ;  it  prevents  the  spasms,  but 
it  hinders  sleep I.  O  God,  have  mercy  on  me. 

Last  week  I  published  the  lives  of  the  poets 2,  written  I  hope 
in  such  a  manner  as  may  tend  to  the  promotion  of  Piety 3. 

In  this  last  year  I  have  made  little  acquisition,  I  have  scarcely 
read  any  thing.  I  maintain  Mrs.  Desmoulins  and  her  daughter 4, 
other  good  of  myself  I  know  not  where  to  find,  except  a  little 
Charity. 

But  I  am  now  in  my  seventieth  year ;  what  can  be  done  ought 
not  to  be  delayed. 

130. 

EASTER  EVE,  April  3,  [1779],  11  p.m. 

This  is  the  time  of  my  annual  review,  and  annual  resolution. 
The  review  is  comfortless.  Little  done.  Part  of  the  life  of 
Dryden  and  the  Life  of  Milton  have  been  written 5 ;  but  my 
mind  has  neither  been  improved  nor  enlarged.  I  have  read  little, 
almost  nothing6.  And  I  am  not  conscious  that  I  have  gained 
any  good,  or  quitted  any  evil  habits. 

Of  resolutions  I  have  made  so  many  with  so  little  effect,  that 
I  am  almost  weary,  but,  by  the  Help  of  God,  am  not  yet 

1  Dr.    Brocklesby    noticed    what  of  Dryden  before  the  previous  Easter. 
Johnson    had    told    him,    that    '  an  '  The  Life  of  Milton  was  begun  in 
opiate  was  never  destructive  of  his  January,   1779,  and  finished   in   six 
readiness  in  conversation.'     Letters,  weeks.'  Gentleman's  Magazine, 17%^ 
ii.  437.  p.  9,  «.  i. 

2  The  first  four  of  the  ten  volumes.          6  For  Johnson's  use  of  the  phrase 
The  last  six  were  published  in  1781.  almost   nothing   see   Life,   ii.    446, 

3  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  34.  n.  3.     Beattie    reckoned    it    as    a 

4  Ib.  iii.  222.  Scotticism.     Scotticisms,    ed.    1787, 

5  He  had  written  most  of  the  Life  p.  9. 

hopeless. 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


hopeless.  Good  resolutions  must  be  made  and  kept x.  I  am 
almost  seventy  years  old,  and  have  no  time  to  lose.  The 
distressful  restlessness  of  my  nights,  makes  it  difficult  to  settle 
the  course  of  my  days.  Something  however  let  me  do. 


131. 

EASTER  DAY,  Apr.  4,  1779. 

I  rose  about  half  an  hour  after  nine,  transcribed  the  prayer 
written  last  night,  and  by  neglecting  to  count  time  sat  too  long 
at  Breakfast,  so  that  I  came  to  Church  at  the  first  lesson. 
I  attended  the  litany  pretty  well,  but  in  the  pew  could  not 
hear  the  communion  service,  and  missed  the  prayer  for  the 
Church  militant.  Before  I  went  to  the  altar  I  prayed  the 
occasional  prayer.  At  the  altar  I  commended  my  0.  4>. 2  and 


1  More  than  twenty  years  earlier 
he  had  written  :— '  I   believe   most 
men   may  review  all  the  lives  that 
have  passed  within  their  observation 
without  remembering  one  efficacious 
resolution,   or  being  able  to  tell  a 
single  instance  of  a  course  of  practice 
suddenly  changed  in  consequence  of 
a  change  of  opinion,  or  an  establish 
ment  of  determination.'     Idler,  No. 
27.     See  ante,  p.  31. 

2  A    writer    in    the    Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1785,  p.  731,  deciphered 
these  letters  as  *  davovras  <pi\ovs,  de 
ceased  friends ' ;  another  ridiculously 
as  *  Thrale  friends.'    Ib.  1838,  ii.  364. 
The  following  letter  by  Dr.  Henry 
Jackson,     published    in    the    Athe 
naeum,    June    1 8,    1887,    gives,    no 
doubt,  the  true  explanation. 

'  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 

June  14,  1887. 

'"Mr.  Croker  has  favoured  us," 
writes  Macaulay  in  his  essay  on 
Croker's  'Boswell,'  "  with  some 
Greek  of  his  own.  '  At  the  altar/ 
says  Dr.  Johnson,  *  I  recommended 
my  6  0.'  'These  letters,'  says  the 
editor,  '  (which  Dr.  Strahan  seems 
not  to  have  understood)  probably 


mean  QV^TQI  <f>i\oi,  "departed 
friends." '  Johnson  was  not  a  first- 
rate  Greek  scholar;  but  he  knew 
more  Greek  than  most  boys  when 
they  leave  school ;  and  no  school 
boy  could  venture  to  use  the  word 
dvijToi  in  the  sense  which  Mr.  Croker 
ascribes  to  it  without  imminent 
danger  of  a  flogging." 

'  Macaulay's  criticism  of  Croker's 
Greek  is  plainly  just ;  6wjr6s  never 
means  anything  except  "  mortal." 
But  the  great  essayist  had  no  other 
interpretation  to  offer.  Accordingly 
a  lively  writer  [Mr.  Andrew  Lang] 
in  the  Daily  News  of  June  6th, 
admitting  that  "the  Greek  would 
be  bad  Greek,"  asks,  "  Would  it  not 
be  good  enough  Greek  shorthand 
for  Dr.  Johnson  ?"  May  I  attempt 
another  solution  of  the  mystery? 

'  From  the  time  of  his  wife's  death 
on  Tuesday,  March  17,  O.S.,  1752, 
Johnson  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping 
Easter  Day  with  special  solemnity. 
In  particular  he  "commended"  in 
his  prayers  his  wife,  his  father,  his 
brother,  his  mother,  and  in  some 
cases  others,  e.g.  "Bathurst"  and 
"  Boothby."  See  Easter  Day,  1759, 
again 


9o 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


again  prayed  the  prayer,  I  then  prayed  the  collects,  and  again 
my  own  prayer  by  memory.  I  left  out  a  clause.  I  then  re 
ceived,  I  hope  with  earnestness,  and  while  others  received  sat 
down,  but  thinking  that  posture,  though  usual,  improper  I  rose 
and  stood.  I  prayed  again  in  the  pew  but  with  what  prayer 
I  have  forgotten. 

When  I  used  the  occasional  prayer  at  the  altar,  I  added 
a  general  purpose 

To  avoid  Idleness. 

I  gave  two  shillings,  to  the  plate. 

Before  I  went  I  used,  I  think,  my  prayer  and  endeavoured  to 
calm  my  mind.  After  my  return  I  used  it  again,  and  the 
collect  for  the  day.  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me. 

I  have  for  some  nights  called  Francis  to  prayers,  and  last 
night  discoursed  with  him  on  the  sacrament. 


1764,  1770  ("friends  living  and 
dead"),  1773,  1777,  1778  [ante,  pp. 
24,  29,  54,  65,  80,  85],  in  his  Prayers 
and  Meditations. 

'On  Easter  Day,  April  4,  1779, 
occurs  the  phrase  under  discussion  : 
"At  the  altar  I  commended  my 
0  $."  But  on  Easter  Day,  1781, 
he  writes :  "  I  commended  my  6 
friends,  as  I  have  formerly  done." 
Strahan  notes  "sic  MS."  [Post, 
p.  98.] 

*  There  can  be  no  doubt,  then,  that 
0  <£  means  "  dead  friends,"  and  very 
little  that  <£  stands  for  (piXoi. 

'Now  we  know  from  Galen 
(Kiihn's  edition,  XVII.  i.  527)  that 
in  the  case-book  of  a  physician  the 
letters  v  and  6  stood  for  vyi'eia  and 
Oava-ros  respectively  :  eVi  Se  177  reAeu- 
777  TOIS  p.ev  <rcadcl<riv  u  irpoaryeypanTai, 
rf/v  vyieiav  arjp-atvov,  rols  §'  airodavovfri 

TO     6,     KOt    TOVTO    8rj\OVOTl     TOV    6aVO.TOV 

cvdetKvvpevov.  And  Forcellini  quotes 
Rufinus,  Invect.  in  Hieron.,  ii.  36, 
to  show  that  in  the  muster-roll  of  a 
Roman  army  the  letter  6  was  affixed 


to  the  names  of  soldiers  who  were 
dead  :  "  quod  tale  esset  quale  si  quis 
accepto  breviculo  in  quo  militum  no- 
mina  continentur  nitatur  inspicere 
quanti  ex  militibus  supersint,  quanti 
in  bello  ceciderint,  et  requirens  qui 
inspicere  missus  et  propriam  notam 
.  .  .  0  ad  uniuscuiusque  defuncti 
nomen  adscribat,  et  propria  rursus 
nota  [sc.  v  =  vivit]  superstitem 
signet."  "Hinc  etiam  in  vet.  lapi- 
dibus,"  continues  the  lexicographer, 
"  illud  0  videre  est  ap.  Marin.  Frat. 
Arv.  p.  610."  Thus,  with  the  Ro 
mans,  as  well  as  with  the  Greeks, 
&  was  a  symbol,  meaning  "  dead,"  or 
"  died,"  or  "  is  dead,"  and  as  such 
Johnson,  I  think,  used  it.  In  a  word, 
it  exactly  corresponds  to  the  cross 
(t)  which  is  sometimes  used  in  Ger 
man  books. 

'  Finally,  Johnson  may  have  learnt 
the  symbol  from  Casaubon's  note  on 
Persius,  iv.  13,  "Nigrum  vitio  prae- 
figere  theta,"  where  the  passage 
from  Rufinus  is  quoted.  H.  ].' 

See  ante,  p.  76. 


EASTER 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  91 

132. 

EASTER  DAY  PRAYER,  1779. 

Purposes,  Apr.  4. 

1.  To  rise  at  eight,  or  as  soon  as  I  can. 

2.  To  read  the  Scriptures. 

3.  To  study  religion. 

Almighty  God,  by  thy  merciful  continuance  of  my  life,  I  come 
once  more  to  commemorate  the  sufferings  and  death  of  thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ,  and  to  implore  that  mercy  which  for  his  sake  thou 
shewest  to  sinners.  Forgive  me  my  sins,  O  Lord,  and  enable 
me  to  forsake  them.  Ease,  if  it  shall  please  thee,  the  anxieties 
of  my  mind,  and  relieve  the  infirmities  of  my  Body.  Let  me  not 
be  disturbed  by  unnecessary  terrours,  and  let  not  the  weakness 
of  age  make  me  unable  to  amend  my  life.  O  Lord,  take  not  from 
me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  receive  my  petitions,  succour  and 
comfort  me,  and  let  me  so  pass  the  remainder  of  my  days, 
that  when  thou  shalt  call  me  hence  I  may  enter  into  eternal 
happiness  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

133. 

Aug.  7,  1779.  Partem  brachii  dextri  carpo  proximam  et 
cutem  pectoris  circa  mamillam  dextram  rasi,  ut  notum  fieret 
quanto  temporis  pili  renovarentur  *. 

134. 

September  18,  I779>  h-p.m.  12  ma. 

Almighty  God,  Creator  of  all  things  in  whose  hands  are  Life 
and  death,  glory  be  to  thee  for  thy  mercies,  and  for  the  pro 
longation  of  my  Life  to  the  common  age  of  Man.  Pardon  me, 
O  gracious  God,  all  the  offences  which  in  the  course  of  seventy 
years  I  have  committed  against  thy  holy  Laws,  and  all  negli 
gences  of  those  Duties  which  thou  hast  required.  Look  with 
pity  upon  me,  take  not  from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  enable  me 

1  Life,  iii.  398.  '  I  shaved  the  part  the  right  breast  so  that  it  might  be 
of  my  right  arm  that  is  next  to  the  seen  how  long  it  would  take  for  the 
wrist  and  the  skin  of  my  chest  round  hair  to  grow  again.' 

to 


92  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

to  pass  the  days  which  thou  shalt  yet  vouchsafe  to  grant  me,  in 
thy  Fear  and  to  thy  Glory ;  and  accept  O  Lord,  the  remains  of 
a  mispent  life,  that  when  Thou  shalt  call  me  to  another  state, 
I  may  be  received  to  everlasting  happiness  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

135. 

Epsom x. 

My  Purpose  is  to  communicate  at  least  thrice  a  year 2. 

To  study  the  Scriptures. 

To  be  diligent. 

On  the  17th,  Mr.  Chamier  took  me  away  with  him  from 
Streatham.  I  left  the  servants  a  guinea  for  my  health,  and 
was  content  enough  to  escape  into  a  house  where  my  Birth-day 
not  being  known  could  not  be  mentioned3.  I  sat  up  till 
midnight  was  past,  and  the  day  of  a  new  year,  a  very  awful 
day,  began.  I  prayed  to  God,  who  had  [safely  brought  me  to 
the  beginning  of  another  year],  but  could  not  perfectly  recollect 
the  prayer,  and  supplied  it4.  Such  desertions  of  memory  I  have 
always  had 5. 

When  I  rose  on  the  i8th,  I  think  I  prayed  again,  then  walked 
with  my  Friend  into  his  grounds.  When  I  came  back  after 
some  time  passed  in  the  library,  finding  myself  oppressed 
by  sleepiness  I  retired  to  my  chamber,  where,  by  lying  down, 
and  a  short  imperfect  slumber  I  was  refreshed,  and  prayed  as 
the  night  before. 

1  He  was  at  the  house  of  Andrew  that  of  our  friend,  Dr.  Johnson,  the 
Chamier,  a  member  of  the  Literary  i;th  and  1 8th  of  September,  we  every 
Club,  at  this  time  Under- Secretary  year  made  up  a  little  dance  and  sup- 
of  State.    Life,  i.  478,  and  Letters,  per  to  divert  our  servants  and  their 
ii.  109,  n.  I.  friends.'     Piozzi's  Anecdotes,  p.  211. 

2  Apparently  in  most  years  he  only  See  ante,  p.  67. 

communicated    on    Easter    Sunday.  4  He  could  not  perfectly  recollect 

Two  years  later  he  still  has  '  hope  of  his  '  accommodation  '  of  the  prayer 

participation   of    the   Sacrament    at  (ante,  p.  32)  and  supplied  the  defi- 

least  three  times  a  year.'  Post,  p.  100.  ciency  by  other  words. 

It  would  seem  that  before  his  wife's  5  'JOHNSON.     "Memory  will  play 

death  he  had  not  always  communi-  strange  tricks.    One  sometimes  loses 

cated  at  Easter.     Ante,  p.  78,  and  a  single  word.     I  once  lo&tjfuguces  in 

post,  p.  98.  the  Ode  Posthume,  Posthume?  '  Life, 

3  '  On  the  birthday  of  our  eldest  v.  68. 
daughter/  writes   Mrs.  Piozzi,  'and 

I  then 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  93 

I  then  dined  and  trifled  in  the  parlour  and  library,  and  was 
freed  from  a  scruple  about  Horace1.  At  last  I  went  to  Bed, 
having  first  composed  a  prayer. 

19.  Sunday.  I  went  to  Church,  and  attended  the  Service. 
I  found  at  church  a  time  to  use  my  prayer,  O  Lord,  have 

mercy. 

136. 

i^o,Jan.  r,  h.  I  a.m.2 

Almighty  God,  my  Creator  and  Preserver  by  whose  mercy 
my  life  has  been  continued  to  the  beginning  of  another  year, 
grant  me  with  encrease  of  days,  encrease  of  Holiness,  that  as 
I  live  longer,  I  may  be  better  prepared  to  appear  before  thee, 
when  thou  shalt  call  me  from  my  present  state. 

Make  me,  O  Lord,  truly  thankful  for  the  mercy  which  Thou 
hast  vouchsafed  to  shew  me  through  my  whole  life ;  make  me 
thankful  for  the  health  which  thou  hast  restored  in  the  last 
year,  and  let  the  remains  of  my  strength  and  life  be  employed 
to  thy  glory  and  my  own  salvation. 

Take  not,  O  Lord,  Thy  holy  Spirit  from  me ;  enable  me  to 
avoid  or  overcome  all  that  may  hinder  my  advancement  in 
Godliness ;  let  me  be  no  longer  idle,  no  longer  sinful ;  but  give 
me  rectitude  of  thought  and  constancy  of  action,  and  bring  me 
at  last  to  everlasting  happiness  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ, 
our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Amen. 

137. 

Sunday,  y«//<?  18,  1780. 

In  the  morning  of  this  day  last  year  I  perceived  the  remission 
of  those  convulsions  in  my  breast  which  had  distressed  me  for 
more  than  twenty  years3.  I  returned  thanks  at  Church  for 
the  mercy  granted  me,  which  has  now  continued  a  year. 

THANKSGIVING. 

Almighty  God,  our  Creatour  and  Preserver,  from  whom 
proceedeth  all  good,  enable  me  to  receive  with  humble  acknow- 

1  For  his  scruples,  see  ante,  p.  41,  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  fa  great  im- 
and  post,  p.  113.  provement  was  made  in  the  enjoy- 

a  Horaprima  ante  meridiem.  One  ment  of  life.'  Letters,  ii.  181.  See 
o'clock  in  the  night.  also  #.,  p.  143,  n.  3. 

3  *  By  removing  that  disorder,'  he 

ledgment 


94  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

ledgment  of  thy  unbounded  benignity,  and  with  due  conscious 
ness  of  my  own  unworthiness,  that  recovery  and  continuance 
of  health  which  thou  hast  granted  me,  and  vouchsafe  to  accept 
the  thanks  which  I  now  offer.  Glory  be  to  Thee,  O  Lord, 
for  this  and  all  thy  mercies.  Grant,  I  beseech  Thee,  that  the 
health  and  life  which  thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  may  conduce 
to  my  eternal  happiness.  Take  not  from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
but  so  help  and  bless  me,  that  when  Thou  shalt  call  me  hence 
I  may  obtain  pardon  and  salvation,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  Amen. 

138. 

Sept.  1 8,  1780. 

I  am  now  beginning  the  seventy  second  year  of  my  life,  with 
more  strength  of  body  and  greater  vigour  of  mind  than,  I  think, 
is  common  at  that  age1.  But  though  the  convulsions  in  my 
breast  are  relieved,  my  sleep  is  seldom  long.  My  Nights  are 
wakeful,  and  therefore  I  am  sometimes  sleepy  in  the  day. 
I  have  been  attentive  to  my  diet,  and  have  diminished  the  bulk 
of  my  body 2.  I  have  not  at  all  studied,  nor  written  diligently. 
I  have  Swift  and  Pope  yet  to  write,  Swift  is  just  begun 3. 

I  have  forgotten  or  neglected  my  resolutions  or  purposes, 
[which]  I  now  humbly  and  timorously  renew.  Surely  I  shall 
not  spend  my  whole  life  with  my  own  total  disapprobation4. 
Perhaps  God  may  grant  me  now  to  begin  a  wiser  and  a  better 
life. 

Almighty  God,  my  Creator  and  Preserver,  who  hast  permitted 
me  to  begin  another  year,  look  with  mercy  upon  my  wretched 
ness  and  frailty.  Rectify  my  thoughts,  relieve  my  perplexities, 

1  Quoted    in    the    Life,    iii.    440.  on  May  30 : — '  I  have  been  so  idle 
Nearly  six  years  earlier  he  had  writ-  that   I  know  not  when   I    shall  get 
ten  to  Dr.  Taylor :— '  You  and  I  have  either  to  you  or  to  any  other  place  ; 
had  ill-health,  yet  in  many  respects  for  my  resolution  is  to  stay  here  till 
we  bear  time  better  than  most  of  our  the  work  is  finished  ...  I  hope  how- 
friends.'    Letters,  i.  305.  ever  to  see  standing  corn  in  some 

2  On  April  8  he  had  written  : — *  For  part  of  the  earth  this  summer,  but 
some  time  past  I  have  abated  much  I  shall  hardly  smell  hay  or  suck  clover 
of  my  diet,  and  am,  I  think,  the  better  flowers.'    Letters,  ii.  163. 

for  abstinence.'     Ib.  ii.  135.  4  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  440. 

3  He  had  written  to  Mrs.  Thrale 

strengthen 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  95 

strengthen  my  purposes,  and  reform  my  doings.  Let  encrease 
of  years  bring  encrease  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  Grant 
me  diligence  in  whatever  work  thy  Providence  shall  appoint 
me.  Take  not  from  me  thy  Holy  Spirit  but  let  me  pass  the 
remainder  of  the  days  which  thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  in  thy 
fear  and  to  thy  Glory ;  and  when  it  shall  be  thy  good  pleasure 
to  call  me  hence,  grant  me,  O  Lord,  forgiveness  of  my  sins,  and 
receive  me  to  everlasting  happiness,  for  the  Sake  of  Jesus 
Christ,  our  Lord.  Amen. 

10.40  p.m. 

139. 

1781. 

Jan.  2.  I  was  yesterday  hindred  by  my  old  disease  of  mind, 
and  therefore  begin  to  day. 

Jan.  i.  Having  sat  in  my  chamber  till  the  year  began  I  used 
my  accommodation  of  the  morning  prayer  to  the  beginning  of 
this  year^  and  slept  remarkably  well,  though  I  had  supped 
liberally  *.  In  the  morning  I  went  to  Church.  Then  I  wrote 
letters  for  Mrs.  Desmoulins2,  then  went  to  Streatham,  and 
had  many  stops3.  At  night  I  took  wine,  and  did  not  sleep 
well. 

Jan.  2.  I  rose  according  to  my  resolution,  and  am  now  to 
begin  another  year.  I  hope  with  amendment  of  life. — I  will 
not  despair.  Help  me,  help  me,  O  my  God.  My  hope  is 

1.  To  rise  at  eight  or  sooner. 

2.  To  read  the  Bible  through  this  year  in  some  language. 

3.  To  keep  a  Journal 4. 
To  study  Religion. 
To  avoid  Idleness. 

Almighty  God  merciful  Father,  who  hast  granted  me  such 
continuance  of  Life,  that  I  now  see  the  beginning  of  another 
year,  look  with  mercy  upon  me,  as  thou  grantest  encrease  of 

1  See  Letters,  ii.  306,  for  '  a  liberal  '  matron  of  the  Chartreux.' 
dinner,'  and/^  p.  104,  for  'I  dined  3  I  conjecture  that  he  means  ob- 
liberally.'  structions  or  impediments  in  the  mind 

2  Of  these  letters  none  have  been  — part  of  what  he  calls 'my  old  disease 
published.      See  Letters,  ii.  207,  for  of  mind.' 

one  written  two  days  earlier  in  which         4  Ante,  p.  64. 
he  recommends  her  for  the  post  of 

years, 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


years,  grant  encrease  of  Grace.  Let  me  live  to  repent  what 
I  have  done  amiss,  and  by  thy  help  so  to  regulate  my  future 
life,  that  I  may  obtain  mercy  when  I  appear  before  thee,  through 
the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ.  Enable  me,  O  Lord,  to  do  my 
duty  with  a  quiet  mind  ;  and  take  not  from  me  thy  Holy 
Spirit,  but  protect  and  bless  me,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 

140. 

Apr.  13,  GOOD  FRIDAY,  1781. 

I  forgot  my  Prayer  and  resolutions,  till  two  days  ago  I  found 
this  paper. 

Sometime  in  March  I  finished  the  lives  of  the  Poets,  which 
I  wrote  in  my  usual  way,  dilatorily  and  hastily,  unwilling  to 
work,  and  working  with  vigour  and  haste T. 

On  Wednesday  n,  was  buried  my  dear  Friend  Thrale  who 
died  on  Wednesday,  4;  and  with  him  were  buried  many  of 
my  hopes  and  pleasures.  On  Sunday  ist  his  Physician  warned 
him  against  full  meals,  on  Monday  I  pressed  him  to  observance 
of  his  rules,  but  without  effect,  and  Tuesday  I  was  absent, 
but  his  Wife  pressed  forbearance  upon  him,  again  unsuccessfully. 
At  night  I  was  called  to  him,  and  found  him  senseless  in  strong 
convulsions.  I  staid  in  the  room,  except  that  I  visited  Mrs. 
Thrale  twice2.  About  five(,  I  think),  on  Wednesday  morning 
he  expired ;  I  felt  almost  the  last  flutter  of  his  pulse,  and  looked 
for  the  last  time  upon  the  face  that  for  fifteen  years  had  never 
been  turned  upon  me  but  with  respect  or  benignity3.  Farewel4. 
May  God  that  delighteth  in  mercy,  have  had  mercy  on  thee. 

I  had  constantly  prayed  for  him  some  time  before  his 
death. 


1  Macaulay  recorded  in  his  Journal 
in  July,  1852  : — '  I  could  write  a  queer 
Montaignish  essay  on  my  morbidities. 
I  sometimes  lose  months,  I  do  not 
know  how ;    accusing  myself  daily, 
and  yet  really  incapable  of  vigorous 
exertion.     I   seem  under  a   spell  of 
laziness.     Then  I  warm,  and  can  go 
on  working  twelve  hours  at  a  stretch.' 
Trevelyan's  Macaulay ',  ed.  1 877,  ii.  3 1 7. 

2  '  His  servants  (he  said)  would  have 


waited  upon  him  in  this  awful  period, 
and  why  not  his  friend  ? '  Life,  iv.  84, 
n.  4.  The  advice  which  Johnson  gave 
to  Thrale  was  given  by  Taylor  to 
Johnson  three  and  a  half  years  later. 
*  He  extremely  resented  it  from  me,' 
wrote  Taylor.  Letters,  ii.  426,  n.  3. 

3  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  84. 

4  Johnson,  as  I  have  shown  in  the 
Preface  to  his  Letters  (p.  xv),  often 
left  out  the  second  final  consonant. 

The 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


97 


The  decease  of  him  from  whose  friendship  I  had  obtained 
many  opportunities  of  amusement,  and  to  whom  I  turned  my 
thoughts  as  to  a  refuge  from  misfortunes,  has  left  me  heavy. 
But  my  business  is  with  myself. 

Sept.  1 8.  My  first  knowledge  of  Thrale  was  in  1765.  I 
enjoyed  his  favour  for  almost  a  fourth  part  of  my  life x. 

141. 

EASTER  EVE,  Apr.  14,  1781. 

On  Good  Friday  I  took  in  the  Afternoon  some  coffee  and 
buttered  cake,  and  to-day  I  had  a  little  bread  at  breakfast, 
and  potatoes  and  apples  in  the  afternoon,  the  tea  with  a  little 
toast,  but  I  find  myself  feeble  and  unsustained,  and  suspect 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  fast  so  long  as  formerly 2. 

This  day  I  read  some  of  Clark's  Sermons.  I  hope  that  since 
my  last  Communion  I  have  advanced,  by  pious  reflections  in 
my  submission  to  God,  and  my  benevolence  to  Man,  but  I  have 
corrected  no  external  habits,  nor  have  kept  any  of  the  reso 
lutions  made  in  the  beginning  of  the  year,  yet  I  hope  still  to 
be  reformed,  and  not  to  lose  my  whole  life  in  idle  purposes. 
Many  years  are  already  gone,  irrevocably  past,  in  useless  Misery, 
that  what  remains  may  be  spent  better  grant  O  God. 

By  this  awful  Festival  is  particularly  recommended  Newness 
of  Life  ;  and  a  new  Life  I  will  now  endeavour  to  begin  by 
more  diligent  application  to  useful  employment,  and  more 
frequent  attendance  on  public  Worship. 

I  again  with  hope  of  help  from  the  God  of  mercy,  resolve 

To  avoid  Idleness. 

To  read  the  Bible. 

To  study  religion. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  by  whose  Protection  I  have 
been  preserved,  and  by  whose  clemency  I  have  been  spared, 


1  See  Life,  i.  520 ;  iv.  85  ;  and  Let 
ters,  i.  142,  388;  ii.  47,  100,  209,  211, 
214. 

2  On  Saturday  in  Passion  Week  in 
1766    he    recorded : — '  I    had    lived 
more  abstemiously  than  is  usual  the 
whole  week,  and  taken  physick  twice, 

VOL.  I.  H 


which  together  made  the  fast  more 
uneasy.'  Ante,  p.  39.  The  present 
week,  however,  he  had  dined  twice 
with  Bishops,  and  therefore  presum 
ably  dined  well.  He  should  have 
better  borne  to  fast.  See  Life,  iv.  88. 

grant 


98  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

grant  that  the  life  which  thou  hast  so  long  continued  may  be 
no  longer  wasted  in  idleness  or  corrupted  by  wickedness.  Let 
my  future  purposes  be  good,  and  let  not  my  good  purposes 
be  vain.  Free  me  O  Lord  from  vain  terrours,  and  strengthen 
me  in  diligent  obedience  to  thy  laws.  Take  not  from  me  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  but  enable  me  so  to  commemorate  the  death  of 
my  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  may  be  made  partaker  of 
his  merits,  and  may  finally,  for  his  sake  obtain  everlasting 
happiness.  Amen. 

142. 

EASTER  SUNDAY,  1781. 

I  rose  after  eight,  and  breakfasted,  then  went  early  to  church, 
and  before  service  read  the  prayer  for  the  Church  Militant. 
I  commended  my  0 z  friends  as  I  have  formerly  done.  I  was 
one  of  the  last  that  communicated.  When  I  came  home  I  was 
hindred  by  Visitants2,  but  found  time  to  pray  before  dinner. 
God  send  thy  Blessing  upon  me. 

143. 

Monday,  Apr.  16. 

Yesterday  at  dinner  was  Mrs.  Hall,  Mr.  Levet,  Macbean, 
Boswel,  Allen3.  Time  passed  in  talk  after  dinner.  At  seven 
I  went  with  Mrs.  Hall  to  Church,  and  came  back  to  tea.  At 
night  I  had  some  mental  vellications,  or  revulsions 4.  I  prayed 
in  my  chamber  with  Frank,  and  read  the  first  Sunday  in  the 
Duty  of  Man,  in  which  I  had  till  then  only  looked  by  com 
pulsion  or  by  chance  5. 

I  paid  the  Pewkeepers. 

This  day  I  repeated  my  prayer,  and  hope  to  be  heard. 

I  have,  I  thank  God,  received  the  Sacrament  every  year  at 
Easter  since  the  death  of  my  poor  dear  Tetty.  I  once  felt 

1  Ante,  p.  89.  ings,  stimulation  ;  and  revulsion  as 

2  He  a  second  time  (post,  p.  105)  the   act    of  revolving   or  drawing 
uses  visitants  where  we  should  use  humours  from  a  remote  part  of  the 
visitors.     ¥>\\.\.post,  p.  107,  he  speaks  body.     See  ante,  p.  95,  for  his  'old 
of  visitors.  disease  of  mind.' 

3  For  an  account  of  this  dinner,  see  5  See  ante,  p.  17,  n.  i.    The  Whole 
Life,  iv.  92.  Duty  of  Man  is  divided  into  seven- 

4  Vellication  he  defines  as  twitch-  teen  Sundays. 

some 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  99 

some  temptation  to  omit  it,  but  I  was  preserved  from  compliance. 
This  was  the  thirtieth  Easter.     Sept.  18. 

144. 

ifSiyfune  22. 

Almighty  God  who  art  the  Giver  of  all  good  enable  me  to 
remember  with  due  thankfulness  the  comforts  and  advantages 
which  I  have  enjoyed  by  the  friendship  of  Henry  Thrale,  for 
whom,  so  far  as  is  lawful,  I  humbly  implore  thy  mercy  in  his 
present  state.  O  Lord,  since  thou  hast  been  pleased  to  call 
him  from  this  world,  look  with  mercy  on  those  whom  he  has 
left,  continue  to  succour  me  by  such  means  as  are  best  for  me, 
and  repay  to  his  relations  the  kindness  which  I  have  received 
from  him ;  protect  them  in  this  world  from  temptations  and 
calamities,  and  grant  them  happiness  in  the  world  to  come, 
for  Jesus  Christs  sake.  Amen. 

145. 

August  9,  3  P.M.,  aetat.  72,  in  the  summer-house  at  Streat- 
ham. 

After  innumerable  resolutions  formed  and  neglected,  I  have 
retired  hither,  to  plan  a  life  of  greater  diligence,  in  hope  that 
I  may  yet  be  useful,  and  be  daily  better  prepared  to  appear 
before  my  Creator  and  my  Judge,  from  whose  infinite  mercy 
I  humbly  call  for  assistance  and  support. 

My  purpose  is, 

To  pass  eight  hours  every  day  in  some  serious  employment. 

Having  prayed,  I  purpose  to  employ  the  next  six  weeks  upon 
the  Italian  language,  for  my  settled  study x. 

146. 

Sept.  2,  1781. 

When  Thrales  health  was  broken,  for  many  months,  I  think 
before  his  death  which  happened  Apr.  2,  I  constantly  men- 

1  Life,  iv.  134.     The  original  is  in  ed.  1836,  p.  68. 

the  possession  of  Mr.  Locker-Lamp-  2  Johnson  left  a  blank,  intending 

son  of  Rowfant.     A  picture   of  the  no  doubt  to  fill  it  up.     Thrale  died 

summer-house  by  Clarkson  Stanfield  on  April  4,  the  seventh  anniversary 

is   given    in   Murray's  Johnsoniana,  of  Goldsmith's  death. 

H  2,                                         tioned 


100 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


tioned  him  in  my  prayers;  and  after  his  death  have  made 
particular  supplication  for  his  surviving  family  to  this  day,  but 
having  now  recommended  them  to  God  in  this  particular 
address,  which  though  written — x 

147. 

Sept.  18,  1781. 

This  is  my  seventy  third  birth-day  an  awful  day.  I  said 
a  preparatory  prayer  last  night,  and  waking  early  made  use 
in  the  dark,  as  I  sat  up  in  bed  of  the  prayer  [beginning  of 
this  year2].  I  rose  breakfasted,  and  gave  thanks  at  Church3 
for  my  Creation,  Preservation,  and  REDEMPTION.  As  I 
came  home  I  thought  I  had  never  begun  any  period  of  life 
so  placidly.  I  read  the  Second  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians, 
and  looked  into  Hammond's  notes4.  I  have  always  [been] 
accustomed  to  let  this  day  pass  unnoticed,  but  it  came  this 
time  into  my  mind  that  some  little  festivity  was  not  improper. 
I  had  a  dinner,  and  invited  Allen  and  Levet 5. 

What  has  passed  in  my  thoughts  on  this  anniversary  is  in 
stitched  book  K  6. 

My  purposes  are  the  same  as  on  the  first  day  of  this  year, 
to  which  I  add  hope  of 

More  frequent  attendance  on  publick  Worship. 

Participation  of  the  Sacrament  at  least  three  times  a  year 7. 

148. 

Sept.  1 8,  Vesp.  10°  40',  circ.8 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  hast  added  another 
year  to  my  life,  and  yet  permittest  me  to  call  upon  thee, 

1  The  rest  of  the  sentence  is  mis-  s  For  his  unwillingness  to  have  the 

sing.  day  noticed,  see  ante,  p.  67.     In  1783 

*  Ante,  p.  42,  n.  I.  he  again  gave  a  dinner  on  his  birth- 

3  It  was  a  week-day.  day.     Letters,  ii.  332.     Allen  was  his 

4  Henry  Hammond,  D.D.     Isaac  neighbour  and  landlord.  Life,  iii.  141. 
Walton  describes  the  discourse  which  For  Levett,  see  post,  p.  102. 

Dr.  Hammond  and  Dr.   Sanderson         6  This  book  is  not  in  the  Editor's 
had  'about  those  knotty  points  which      possession.     Note  by  G.  Strahan. 
are  by  the  learned  called  the  Quin-          7  Ante,  p.  92,  n.  2. 
quarticuiar   Controversy.'     Walton's          8  Vesperi   10°  40'  circiter.     About 
Lives,  ed.  1838,  p.  372.  10.40  at  night. 

Grant 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  101 

Grant  that  the  remaining  days  which  thou  shalt  yet  allow  me 
may  be  past  in  thy  fear  and  to  thy  glory,  grant  me  good 
resolutions  and  steady  perseverance.  Relieve  the  diseases  of 
my  body  and  compose  the  disquiet  of  my  mind.  Let  me  at 
last  repent  and  amend  my  life,  and.  O  Lord,  take  not  from 
me  thy  Holy  Spirit,  but  assist  my  amendment,  and  accept  my 
repentance,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

149. 

Oct.  14,  Sunday,  [1781.] 
(properly  Monday  morning x.) 

I  am  this  day  about  to  go  by  Oxford  and  Birmingham  to 
Lichfield  and  Ashbourne.  The  motives  of  my  journey  I  hardly 
know.  I  omitted  it  last  year,  and  am  not  willing  to  miss  it 
again.  Mrs.  Aston 2  will  be  glad,  I  think,  to  see  me.  We  are 
both  old,  and  if  I  put  off  my  visit,  I  may  see  her  no  more ; 
perhaps  she  wishes  for  another  interview.  She  is  a  very  good 
woman. 

Hector  is  likewise  an  old  friend,  the  only  companion  of  my 
childhood  that  passed  through  the  School  with  me.  We  have 
always  loved  one  another 3.  Perhaps  we  may  be  made  better  by 
some  serious  conversation,  of  which  however  I  have  no  distinct 
hope. 

At  Lichfield,  my  native  place,  I  hope  to  shew  a  good  example 
by  frequent  attendance  on  publick  worship 4. 

At  Ashbourne  I  hope  to  talk  seriously  with  Taylor 5. 

1  Part  of  this  entry  is  quoted  in  the  '  having  heard  that  Johnson  had  said 
Life,  iv.  135.  that  he  would  prefer  a  state  of  tor- 

2  One  of  the  unmarried  daughters  ment  to  that  of  annihilation,  he  told 
of  Sir  Thomas  Aston.     She  lived  at  him  that  such  a  declaration,  coming 
Lichfield.     Life,  ii.  466.  from  him,  might  be  productive  of  evil 

3  Hector  was  a  Birmingham  sur-  consequences.     Dr.  J.  desired  him  to 
geon.     Life,  ii.  456 ;  Letters,  ii.  228.  arrange  his  thoughts  on  the  subject.' 

4  To    make    up    perhaps    for    his  Taylor  says  that  Johnson's  entry  about 
shirking    it    in   his   boyhood.     Life,  the  serious  talk  refers  to  this  matter. 
i.  67.  Gent.  Mag.  1787,  p.  521.     I  believe 

5  Taylor  published  in  1 787  A  Letter  that  Johnson  meant  to  warn  Taylor 
to  Samuel  Johnson  on  the  Subject  of  about  the  danger  he  was  running  of 
a  Future  State.      He    writes    that  '  entering  the  state  of  torment.' 

January 


102 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


150. 


1782. 


January  20,  Sunday.  Robert  Levett  was  buried  in  the 
church-yard  of  Bridewell,  between  one  and  two  in  the  afternoon. 
He  died  on  Thursday  17,  about  seven  in  the  morning,  by  an 
instantaneous  death.  He  was  an  old  and  faithful  friend  ;  I  have 
known  him  from  about  46.  CommendavL  May  God  have 
mercy  on  him.  May  he  have  mercy  on  me T. 


151. 


1782,  March  18. 


Having  been,  from  the  middle  of  January,  distressed  by  a  cold 
which  made  my  respiration  very  laborious,  and  from  which 
I  was  but  little  relieved  by  being  blooded  three  times,  having 
tried  to  ease  the  oppression  of  my  breast  by  frequent  opiates, 
which  kept  me  waking  in  the  night  and  drowsy  the  next  day, 
and  subjected  me  to  the  tyranny  of  vain  imaginations ;  Having 
to  all  this  added  frequent  catharticks,  sometimes  with  mercury ; 
I  at  last  persuaded  Dr.  Laurence  on  Thursday  March  14  to  let 
me  bleed  more  copiously.  Sixteen  ounces  were  taken  away, 
and  from  that  time  my  breath  has  been  free,  and  my  breast 
easy.  On  that  day  I  took  little  food,  and  no  flesh2.  On 
Thursday  night  I  slept  with  great  tranquillity.  On  the  next 
night  (15)  I  took  diacodium 3  and  had  a  most  restless  night. 
Of  the  next  day  I  remember  nothing  but  that  I  rose  in  the 
afternoon,  and  saw  Mrs.  Lennox  4  and  Sheward 5. 


1  Life,  iv.  137,  where  are  quoted 
the    beautiful    lines    which  Johnson 
wrote  on  Levett.     For  Johnson's  '  re 
commendation  '  of  the  dead,  see  ante, 
p.  14. 

2  He  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  on  the 
day  on  which  he  was  bled  : — '  I  think 
the  loss  of  blood  has  done  no  harm  ; 
whether  it  has  done  good  time  will 
tell.     I  am  glad  that  I  do  not  sink 
without  resistance.'    Letters,  ii.  247. 
Miss  Burney    in  the   previous  Sep 
tember    had  been  alarmed  at   'his 
strange    discipline — starving,     mer 
cury,    opium.5       Mme.     D'Arblay's 
Diary,  ii.  107. 


3  Syrup  of  poppies.   Reconsidered 
diacodium  an  English  word,  for  he 
gives  it  in  his  Dictionary. 

4  Mrs.  Lennox  he  pronounced  su 
perior  to  Mrs.  Carter,  Hannah  More, 
and  Fanny  Burney.     Life,   iv.  275. 
Miss  Burney  looked  upon  this  state 
ment  as   one  of    'those   occasional 
sallies  of  Dr.  Johnson,  which  uttered 
from  local  causes  and  circumstances, 
but  all  retailed  verbatim  by  Mr.  Bos- 
well  are  filling  all  sort  of  readers  with 
amaze,  except  the  small  party  to  whom 
Dr.  Johnson  was  known.'  Mme.  D'Ar 
blay's  Diary,  v.  212. 

5  Mentioned  ante,  p.  80. 

17  Sunday. 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


103 


17  Sunday.  I  lay  late,  and  had  only  Palfrey1  to  dinner, 
(d.  2s.  6.)  I  read  part  of  Waller's  Directory,  a  pious  rational 
book,  but  in  any  except  a  very  regular  life  difficult  to  practise 2. 

It  occurred  to  me  that  though  my  time  might  pass  un 
employed,  no  more  should  pass  uncounted,  and  this  has  been 
written  to-day  in  consequence  of  that  thought.  I  read  a  Greek 
Chapter,  prayed  with  Francis,  which  I  now  do  commonly,  and 
explained  to  him  the  Lord's  Prayer,  in  which  I  find  connection 
not  observed,  I  think,  by  the  expositors.  I  made  punch3  for 
Myself  and  my  servants,  by  which  in  the  night  I  thought  both 
my  breast  and  imagination  disordered. 

March  18.  I  rose  late,  looked  a  little  into  books.  Saw 
Miss  Reynolds  and  Miss  Thrale,  and  Nicolaida4,  afterwards 
Dr.  Hunter  came  for  his  catalogue 5.  I  then  dined  on  tea,  &c.  ; 
then  read  over  part  of  Dr.  Laurence's  book  de  Temperamentis  6, 
which  seems  to  have  been  written  with  a  troubled  mind. 

I  prayed  with  Francis. 

My  mind  has  been  for  some  time  much  disturbed.  The 
Peace  of  God  be  with  me. 


1  Strahan  printed  palfrey.    A  critic 
in  Notes  and  Queries,  March  2,  1867, 
suggested  that  Johnson  wrote  pastry. 
Palfrey,  or  Palfry  (as  Johnson  writes 
the  name,  post,   p.   106)  was   some 
poor  man,  to  whom  he  gave  (as  *dj 
probably  signifies)  on  this  day  and  on 
the  24th,  two  shillings  and  sixpence. 

2  Divine  Meditations  upon  Several 
Occasions   with  a  Doyly  Directory. 
By  the  Excellent  Pen  of  Sir  William 
Waller,  Kt.     London,  1680.     Waller 
was    the    Presbyterian    general,  the 
'William  the  Conqueror'  of  the  citi 
zens  of  London.  Clarendon's  History, 
ed.  1826,  iv.  114. 

The  day  was  strictly  divided  in 
the  Directory,  with  frequent  private 
prayers  and  meditations,  and  family 
prayers  at  noon  and  supper.  '  In 
summer  time  I  would  be  up  by  five ; 
in  winter  by  six.  At  Meals  I  would 
observe  a  moderation ;  a  mean  be 


tween  eating  by  the  ounce  and  by  the 
pound.' 

3  In  his  Dictionary  he  describes 
punch  as  '  a  cant  word.' 

4  '  A  learned  Greek,  nephew  of  the 
Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  who  had 
fled  from  a  massacre  of  the  Greeks.' 
Johnstone's  Works  of  Dr.  Parr,  i.  84. 
See  also  ib.  pp.  87-90,  and  Life,  ii.  379. 

5  A  little  later  was  published  an 
instalment  of  the  Catalogue  of  Dr. 
William  Hunter's  Collection  of  Coins. 
It   was  written   by  Charles  Combe. 
Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog.  xi.  427 ;   xxviii. 
304. 

6  Mr.  Croker  thinks  that  Lawrence 
had  lent  Johnson  Galen's  work  De 
Temperamentis  et  inequali  temperie. 
I  conjecture  that  it  was  a  work  in 
manuscript  by  Lawrence,  who  wrote 
his   medical  books    in   Latin.     The 
entries  of  the  I9th  and  26th  support 
this  view. 


I  hope 


104 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


I  hope  to-morrow  to  finish  Laurence,  and  to  write  to  Mrs. 
Aston,  and  to  Lucy. 

19.  I  rose  late.     I  was  visited  by  Mrs.  Thrale,  Mr.  Cotton  \ 
and  Mr.  Crofts  2.     I  took  Laurence's  paper  in  hand,  but  was  chill, 
having  fasted  yesterday,  I  was   hungry  and   dined  freely,  then 
slept  a  little,  and  drank   tea,  then   took  candles  and  wrote  to 
Aston  and  Lucy 3,  then  went  on  with  Laurence  of  which  little 
remains.     I  prayed  with  Francis. 

Mens  sedatior,  laus  DEO. 

To-morrow  Shaw4  comes,  I  think  to  finish  Laurence,  and 
write  to  Langton. 

Poor  Laurence  has  almost  lost  the  sense  of  hearing,  and 
I  have  lost  the  conversation  of  a  learned,  intelligent,  and  com 
municative  companion,  and  a  friend  whom  long  familiarity  has 
much  endeared.  Laurence  is  one  of  the  best  men  whom  I  have 
known. 

Nostrum  omnium  miserere,  Deus 5. 

20.  Shaw  came  ;  I  finished  reading  Laurence.    Steevens  came. 
I  dined  liberally.    Wrote  a  long  letter  to  Langton 6,  and  designed 
to  read  but  was  hindered  by  Strahan7.     The  ministry  is   dis 
solved.     I  prayed  with  Fr.  and  gave  thanks 8. 


1  Mrs.  Thrale  had  cousins  of  that 
name.    Life,  v.  435,  n.  2  ;   Letters, 
ii.  394,  n. 

2  It   was    not    the   Rev.   Thomas 
Crofts,  the  owner  of  a  famous  library, 
for  he  had  died  in  1781.     Nichols's 
Literary  Anecdotes,  viii.   482.     See 
Letters,  ii.  294,  where  his  name  is 
wrongly    given    as    Croft.      Perhaps 
Johnson's  visitor  was  the  Rev.  Her 
bert  Croft  who  had  written  for  him 
the  Life  of  Young.     Life,  iv.  58. 

3  The  letter  to  Mrs.  Aston  has  never 
been  printed;  for  the  letter  to  Miss 
Porter,  see  Life,  iv.  142. 

4  William  Shaw,  the  Gaelic  scholar. 
Life,  iii.  106 ;  iv.  252. 

5  This  passage  about  Dr.  Lawrence 
is  quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  143. 

6  Life,  iv.  145. 


7  William    Strahan,    the    printer, 
M.P.  for  Malmesbury. 

8  Quoted  by  Boswell  under  date  of 
Jan.  20.    Life,  iv.  139.     On  the  after 
noon  of  March  20  Lord  North  an 
nounced  in  the  House  of  Commons 
'  that  his  Majesty's  Ministers  were  no 
more.'     ParL  Hist.   xxii.   125.     For 
Johnson's  contempt  of  this  ministry, 
see  Life,  iii.  I  ;  iv.  139.     On  March  30 
he  wrote : — '  The  men  are  got  in  whom 
I  have  endeavoured  to  keep  out,  but 
I  hope  they  will  do  better  than  their 
predecessors ;  it  will  not  be  easy  to 
do  worse.'     Letters,  ii.  248. 

Fifty-one  years  later  Macaulay  de 
scribed  '  a  splendid  rout  at  Lord 
Grey's,'  who  was  then  Prime  Minister. 
( I  mean,'  he  wrote,  '  only  to  tell  you 
one  circumstance  which  struck  and 
To-morrow 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


105 


To-morrow — To  Mrs.  Thrale — To  write  to  Hector.  To  Dr. 
Taylor. 

2,1.  I  went  to  Mrs.  Thrale.  Mr.  Cox  *  and  Paradise  met  me 
at  the  door  and  went  with  me  in  the  coach.  Paradise's  loss2. 
In  the  evening  wrote  to  Hector 3.  At  night  there  were  eleven 
visitants.  Conversation  with  Mr.  Cox.  When  I  waked  I  saw 
the  penthouses  covered  with  snow. 

22.  I  spent  the  time  idly.     Mens  turbata.     In  the  afternoon  it 
snowed.     At  night  I  wrote   to  Taylor  about  the  pot4,  and  to 
Hamilton  about  the  Fcedera 5. 

23.  I  came   home,  and    found   that   Desmoulins6  had  while 


even  affected  me.  I  was  talking  to 
Lady  Charlotte  Lindsay,  the  daughter 
of  Lord  North,  about  the  apartments, 
when  she  said  with  a  good  deal  of 
emotion,  "  This  is  an  interesting  visit 
to  me.  I  have  never  been  in  this 
house  for  fifty  years.  It  was  here 
that  I  was  born  ;  I  left  it  a  child  when 
my  father  fell  from  power  in  1782  ;  and 
I  have  never  crossed  the  threshold 
since.'"  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ed. 
1877,  i.  299. 

1  Mr.  Cox  was  a  solicitor.  It  was 
at  his  house  in  Southampton  Build 
ings,  Chancery  Lane,  that  Burke  and 
Johnson  had  argued  with  too  much 
warmth  over  the  management  of 
the  defence  of  Baretti  on  his  trial 
for  murder.  '  Burke  and  I,'  said 
Johnson,  '  should  have  been  of  one 
opinion  if  we  had  had  no  audience.' 
Life,  iv.  324.  It  was  at  the  same 
house  about  thirteen  years  earlier  that 
had  taken  place  Jeremy  Bentham's 
*  first  conference  with  Dr.  Markham,' 
the  Headmaster  of  Westminster, 
afterwards  Archbishop  of  York.  '  It 
was,'  said  Bentham,  '  an  awful  meet 
ing — with  three  reverend  doctors  of 
divinity  at  once,  in  a  large  room,  to 
whom  a  trembling  lad  was  introduced, 
who  had  been  talked  of  as  a  prodigy.' 
Bentham's  Works,  x.  27.  See  also 
ib.,  p.  29,  for  the  disquiet  caused  the 


boy  by  '  a  tip  '  (to  use  his  own  word) 
of  five  guineas  from  Cox. 

2  '  John  Paradise  was  born  at  Salo- 
nichi,  brought  up  at  Padua,  and  by 
far  the  greatest  part  of  his  life  resided 
at  London ;  was  passionately  fond  of 
learned  men,  and  opened  his  house 
to  all  descriptions  of  them.'    Annual 
Register,  1795,  ii.  49.     See  Lifet  iv. 
364.     A  very  large  estate  belonging 
to  him  in  America  '  had  been  attached 
by  an  order  of  the  United  States,  who 
had  threatened  its  confiscation  unless 
the  owner  appeared  in  person  to  claim 
it.'    Jones,  the  Orientalist,  was  on  the 
point  of  sailing  with  him  to  America 
as  his  legal  adviser,  but  the  voyage 
was   abandoned   through  Paradise's 
irresolution.       Teignmouth's    Jones, 
p.  247  ;  Johnstone's  Parr,  i.  84-6. 

3  Life,  iv.  147. 

4  This  letter  is  not  in  print.     On 
July  8  he  wrote  to  Taylor  : — '  Have 
you  settled  about  the  silver  coffee 
pot  ?  is  it  mine  or  Mrs.  Fletcher's  ? 
I  arn  yet  afraid  of  liking  it  too  well.' 
Letters,  ii.  262. 

5  William  Gerard  Hamilton.    The 
Foedera  was  no  doubt  the  copy  of 
Rymer's  work,  which  Johnson  '  sold 
on  the  28th  for  Davies.'    Davies  had 
failed  as  a  bookseller.    Life,  iii.  223. 

6  Ante,  p.  88. 

I  was 


io6 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


I  was  away  been  in  bed.     Letters  from   Langton  and  Boswel. 
I  promised  Lowe z  six  guineas.     Corrected  proofs  for  Shaw. 

24.  Sunday.      I    rose   not   early.     Visitors   Allen2,   Davies3, 
Windham4,  Dr.  Horseley5.    Palfry,  2s.  6d.    Dinner  at  Strahan's. 
Came  home  and  chatted  with  Williams 6,  and  read  Romans  ix. 
in  Greek. 

To-morrow  begin  again  to  read  the  Bible  put  rooms  in  order ; 
copy  Lowe's  Letter. 

25.  M.     I  had  from  Strahan  £78.    At   night  of  the  Bible 
I  read  up.  and  something  more  in  55'. 

26.  Tu.    I  copied  Lowe's  Letter.    Then  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale7. 
Cox  visited  me.     I  sent  home  Dr.  Laurence's  papers  with  notes. 
I  gave  Desmoulins  a  guinea,  and  found  her  a  gown. 

27.  W. — At    Harley-street 8.     bad    nights  —  in    the    evening 
Dr.  Bromfield  9  and  his  Family.     Merlin's  steelyard  I0  given  me. 

28.  Th.     I  came  home.     Sold  Rymer  for  Davies  :    wrote  to 
Boswel  ".    Visitor  Dr.  Percy I2.     Mr.  Crofts.     I  have  in  ten  days 
written  to  Aston,  Lucy,  Hector,  Langton,  Boswel ;  perhaps  to 
all  by  whom  my  Letters  are  desired. 

The  Weather,  which  now  begins  to  be  warm  gives  me  great 
help.  I  have  hardly  been  at  Church  this  year,  certainly  not 
since  the  15  of  Jan.  My  Cough  and  difficulty  of  Breath  would 
not  permit  it. 

This  is  the  day  on  which  in  1752  dear  Tetty  died.     I  have 


1  Life,  \v.  202  ;  Letters,  ii.  66,  274. 
8  Ante,  p.  100. 

3  Thomas  Davies  the  bookseller. 

4  Right   Hon.  William  Windham. 
Life,  iv.  407  ;  Letters,  ii.  439. 

5  Afterwards  Bishop,  first   of  St. 
David's,  and  next  of  Rochester.     He 
was  a  member  of  Johnson's  Essex 
Head  Club.    Life,  iv.  254, 437.     Gib 
bon  (Misc.  Works,  i.  232)  celebrates 
his   'mighty  spear.'     According   to 
Jeremy  Bentham  '  he  was  a  man  of 
free  conversation ;  he  was  proud  and 
insolent  ...  His  discourse  was  such 
as  none  but  an  unbeliever  could  use. 
Wilberforce  knew  his  character ;  he 
had  a  perfect  abhorrence  of  him,  and 


I  have  heard  him  call  him  "a  dirty 
rascal"  and  "a  dirty  scoundrel.'" 
Bentham's  Works,  x.  41. 

6  Miss  Williams.    Post,  p.  114. 

7  This  letter  has  not  been  published. 

8  Mrs.  Thrale  had  taken  a  house 
in  this  street  for  three  months  of  this 
year.      Hay  ward's   Piozzi,  2nd  ed., 
i.  165. 

9  Letters,  i.  178,  n.  6. 

10  Mention  is  made  of '  Mr.  Merlin, 
the  very  ingenious  mechanic'  in  the 
Early  Diary  of  Frances  Burney,  ii. 
58,  300.     See  also  Mme.  D'Arblay's 
Diary,  ii.  6,  52. 

"  Life,  iv.  148. 

12  Editor  of  the  Reliques. 

now 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  107 

now  uttered  a  prayer  of  repentance  and  c. J ;  perhaps  Tetty 
knows  that  I  prayed  for  her.  Perhaps  Tetty  is  now  praying 
for  me.  God  help  me.  Thou,  God,  art  merciful,  hear  my 
prayers,  and  enable  me  to  trust  in  Thee. 

We  were  married  almost  seventeen  years,  and  have  now  been 
parted  thirty. 

I  then  read  up.  from  Ex.  36.  to  Lev.  7.  I  prayed  with  Fr. 
and  used  the  prayer  for  Good  Friday. 

29.  Good  Friday.     After  a  night  of  great  disturbance  and 
solicitude,  such  as  I  do  not  remember,  I  rose,  drank  tea,  but 
without  eating,  and  went  to  Church.     I  was  very  composed,  and 
coming  home,  read  Hammond  on  one  of  the  Psalms    for   the 
day2.     I  then   read  Leviticus.     Scot3  came  in  which  hindred 
me  from  Church  in  the  afternoon.     A  kind  letter  from  Gastrel 4. 
I  read  on,  then  went  to  Evening  prayers,  and  afterwards  drank 
tea  with  bunns ;   then  read  till  I  finished  Leviticus  24  pages 
et  sup. 

To  write  to  Gastrel  to  morrow. 
To  look  again  into  Hammond. 

30.  Sat.     Visitors    Paradise    and   I   think    Horseley.     Read 
ii  pages  of  the  Bible.     I  was   faint,    dined   on   herrings   and 
potatoes.     At   Prayers,  I  think,  in   the    Evening.     I  wrote  to 
Gastrel,   and   received  a  kind   letter   from    Hector.      At   night 
Lowe.     Pr. 5  with  Francis. 

31.  Easter  Day.     Read  15  pages  of  the  Bible.     Caetera  alibi6. 

1  Contrition.  tempers  on  him  at  the  same  time.' 

2  He  wrote  from  Lichfield  on  July  The  Spectator,  No.  574.     Franklin, 
26,  1775: — 'When  I  came  I  found  in  a  letter  written   in  his   old  age, 
Lucy  at  her  book.     She  had  Ham-  utters  the  same  thanks. 

mond's  Commentary  on  the  Psalms  3  Scott  had  chambers  hard  by  in 
before  her.  He  is  very  learned,  she  the  Temple,  where  Johnson  and  Bos- 
says,  but  there  is  enough  that  any-  well  dined  with  him  on  April  10, 1778. 
body  may  understand.'  Letters,  i.  357.  Life,m.2,6l. 

Addison,  quoting  Fell's  Life  of  Ham-  4  Mrs.  Gastrell  of  Lichfield.     Life, 

mond,  says  : — '  As  this  good  man  was  ii.  470.     For  Johnson's  answer  to  her 

troubled  with  a  complication  of  dis-  letter,  see  Letters,  ii.  248. 

tempers,  when  he  had  the  gout  upon  5  Prayed. 

him,  he  used  to  thank  God  that  it  was  6  The  other  book  in  which  he  made 

not  the  stone  ;  and  when  he  had  the  the  remaining  entries  is,  I  fear,  lost, 
stone,  that  he  had  not  both  these  dis- 

At 


io8  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

152. 

At  the  Table. 

Almighty  God,  by  whose  mercy  I  am  now  permitted  to  com 
memorate  my  Redemption  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  grant  that 
this  aweful  remembrance  may  strengthen  my  Faith,  enliven  my 
Hope,  and  encrease  my  Charity ;  that  I  may  trust  in  Thee  with 
my  whole  heart,  and  do  good  according  to  my  power.  Grant 
me  the  help  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  may  do  thy  will  with 
diligence,  and  suffer  it  with  humble  patience  ;  so  that  when 
Thou  shalt  call  me  to  Judgement,  I  may  obtain  forgiveness  and 
acceptance  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and  Saviour. 
Amen. 

153. 

At  departure,  or  at  Jiome. 

Grant,  I  beseech  Thee,  merciful  Lord,  that  the  designs  of  a  new 
and  better  life,  which  by  thy  Grace  I  have  now  formed,  may 
not  pass  away  without  effect.  Incite  and  enable  me  by  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  to  improve  the  time  which  Thou  shalt  grant  me ; 
to  avoid  all  evil  thoughts  words  and  actions ;  and  to  do  all  the 
duties  which  thou  shalt  set  before  me.  Hear  my  prayer, 

0  Lord,  for  the  Sake  of  Jesus  Christ.     Amen. 

These  prayers  I  wrote  for  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter  in  the  latter  end 
of  the  year  1782,  and  transcribed  them  October  9,  — 84  x. 

154. 

\_On  leaving  Streatham  2.] 

October  6,  1782. 

Almighty  God,  Father  of  all  mercy,  help  me  by  thy  Grace 
that  I  may  with  humble  and  sincere  thankfulness  remember  the 

1  He  was  staying  in  her  house  at  1790,   she   wrote: — 'We  have  kept 
Lichfield  on  that  day.  our  seventh  wedding-day  and  cele- 

2  Mrs.Thrale  recorded  in  her  Diary  brated  our  return  to  this  house  [Streat- 
on  Sept.  20  of  this  year: — 'And  now  ham]  with  prodigious  splendour  and 

1  am  going  to  leave  Streatham  (I  have  gaiety.     Seventy  people  to  dinner . . . 
let  the  house  and  grounds  to  Lord  Never  was  a  pleasanter  day  seen,  and 
Shelburne,  the  expense  of  it  eats  me  at  night  the  trees  and  front  of  the 
up)    for    three    years.'       Hayward's  house  were  illuminated  with  coloured 
Piozzi,  2nd  ed.,  i.  171.     On  July  28,  lamps,  that  called  forth  our  neigh- 

comforts 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  109 

comforts  and  conveniences  which  I  have  enjoyed  at  this  place, 
and  that  I  may  resign  them  with  holy  submission,  equally 
trusting  in  thy  protection  when  Thou  givest  and  when  Thou 
takest  away.  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  Lord,  have  mercy 
upon  me. 

To  thy  fatherly  protection,  O  Lord,  I  commend  this  family. 
Bless,  guide,  and  defend  them,  that  they  may  so  pass  through 
this  world  as  finally  to  enjoy  in  thy  presence  everlasting  happi 
ness,  for  Jesus  Christs  sake.  Amen x. 

O  Lord,  so  far  as,  &c.— Thrale2. 

Oct.  7.  I  was  called  early3.  I  packed  up  my  bundles4,  and 
used  the  foregoing  prayer,  with  my  morning  devotions  somewhat, 
I  think,  enlarged.  Being  earlier  than  the  family  I  read  St.  Pauls 
farewel  in  the  Acts 5,  and  then  read  fortuitously  in  the  Gospels, 
which  was  my  parting  use  of  the  library. 

155. 

Sunday,  went  to  church  at  Streatham.  Templo  valedixi  aim 
osculo  .  Qct  6j  Die  Dominica>  I782 

Pransus  sum  Streathamiae  agninum  crus  coctum  cum  herbis 
(spinach)  comminutis,  farcimen  farinaceum  cum  uvis  passis, 
lumbos  bovillos,  et  pullum  gallinae  Turcicae;  et  post  carnes 

hours  from  all  the  adjacent  villages  on   the   walls.     Bentham,   who  had 

to  admire  and  enjoy  the  diversion.'  noticed  them,   perhaps,   by   way  of 

Ib.  p.  304.  answer,  pointed   out  to   the   foolish 

In  1783  Jeremy  Bentham  visited  Viscount   the   likenesses    of    Burke, 

Lord  Shelburne  at  Streatham,  who  Johnson,  and  Goldsmith.    Bentham's 

at    that    time   was    negotiating    the  Works,  x.  118,  122  ;  Life,  iv.  158,  n.  i. 

Treaty  of  Peace  with  France.     'At  '  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  158. 

one  of  the  dinners  Gibraltar  was  the  "  Ante,  p.  24. 

topic,    and    Rayneval    [one    of   the  3  He  was  perhaps  going  that  day 

French  negotiators]  was  very  desirous  with   the  Thrales  to  Brighton.     He 

it  should  be  given  up  by  the  English,  was  there  on  the  loth.  Letters,  ii.  273. 

There  were  among  the  guests  those  '  I  came  to  Brighthelmston  in  a  state 

who  thought  Gibraltar  was  not  worth  of  so  much  weakness  that  I  rested 

keeping.'  The  Viscount  de  Vergennes,  four  times  in  walking  between  the  inn 

the   son  of  the    Prime    Minister  of  and  the  lodging.'     Life,  iv.  156. 

France,    said    to    Bentham: — 'Are  4  See  Letters,   ii.   319,   where    he 

there  any  such  people  in  England  as  says  : — '  I  carried  my  budget  myself.' 

authors  ? '     The  portraits  of  '  the  wits  5  Acts  xx.  I7~end. 

of   the    age'   whom   Reynolds    had  6  Life,  iv.  159.   '  I  bade  the  church 

painted  for  Thrale  were  still  hanging  farewell  with  a  kiss.' 

missas, 


no 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


missas,  ficus,  uvas,  non  admodum  maturas,  ita  voluit  anni 
intemperies,  cum  mails  Persicis,  iis  tamen  duris.  Non  laetus 
accubui,  cibum  modice  sumpsi,  ne  intemperantia  ad  extremum 
peccaretur.  Si  recte  memini,  in  mentem  venerunt  epulae  in 
exequiis  Hadoni  celebratae.  Streathamiam  quando  revisam x  ? 


1  Oct.  6,  Sunday,  1782.  I  dined  at 
Streatham  on  a  roast  leg  of  lamb  with 
spinach  chopped  fine,  the  stuffing  of 
flour  with  raisins,  a  sirloin  of  beef, 
and  a  turkey  poult ;  and  after  the 
first  course  figs,  grapes  not  very  ripe 
owing  to  the  bad  season,  with  peaches 
— hard  ones.  I  took  my  place  in  no 
joyful  mood,  and  dined  moderately 
that  I  might  not  at  the  last  fall  into 
the  sin  of  intemperance.  If  I  am  not 
mistaken,  the  banquet  at  the  funeral 
of  Hadon  came  into  my  mind.  When 
shall  I  see  Streatham  again  ? 

I  have  looked  in  vain  in  an  old 
cookery-book  for  a  recipe  for  'farci- 
men  farinaceum  cum  uvis  passis.'  See 
Piozzi's  Anec.,  p.  102,  for  Johnson's 
liking  for  *  veal-pie  with  plums  and 
sugar.'  Perhaps  Mrs.  Thrale  had 
ordered  his  favourite  sauce.  It  seems 
odd  that  the  lamb,  beef  and  turkey 
were  not  followed  by  a  pudding  or 
sweets.  There  is  a  passage  in  Miss 
Austen's  Pride  and  Prejudice  (ch.  xx) 
which  shows  that  a  dinner,  excluding 
the  dessert,  often  consisted  of  but  one 
course.  '  Mrs.  Bennet,'  she  writes, 
'  had  been  strongly  inclined  to  ask 
them  to  stay  and  dine  there  that 
day ;  but,  though  she  always  kept 
a  very  good  table,  she  did  not  think 
any  thing  less  than  two  courses  could 
.  .  .  satisfy  the  appetite  and  pride  of 
one  who  had  ten  thousand  a  year.' 
Johnson  defines  dessert  as  'the  last 
course  at  an  entertainment ;  the  fruit 
or  sweetmeats  set  on  the  table  after 
the  meat.'  Addison  in  the  Gttardian, 
No.  163,  makes  the  tart  and  sweet 
meats  part  of  the  dessert.  It  is  in 


this  sense  that  the  word  is  still  used 
in  New  England. 

( Hadonus '  is,  I  conjecture,  Walter 
Haddon,  who  is  mentioned  in  John 
son's  Life  of  Milton  ( Works,  vii.  68) : — 
'  Haddon  and  Ascham,  the  pride  of 
Elizabeth's  reign,  however  they  have 
succeeded  in  prose,  no  sooner  attempt 
verse  than  they  provoke  derision.' 

The  following  description  by  Susan 
Burney  shows  what  Johnson  lost  in 
losing  Streatham : — 

'  We  arrived  at  Streatham  at  a  very 
little  past  eleven.  As  a  place  it  sur 
passed  all  my  expectations.  The 
avenue  to  the  house,  plantations,  £c. 
are  beautiful  ;  worthy  of  the  charming 
inhabitants.  It  is  a  little  Paradise, 
I  think.  Cattle,  poultry,  dogs,  all 
running  freely  about,  without  annoy 
ing  each  other.  Sam  opened  the 
chaise  door,  and  told  my  father  break 
fast  was  not  quite  over,  and  I  had  no 
sooner  got  out  than  Mr.  Thrale  ap 
peared  at  a  window  close  to  the  door, 
— and,  indeed,  my  dear  Fanny,  you 
did  not  tell  me  anything  about  him 
which  I  did  not  find  entirely  just. 
With  regard  to  his  reception  of  me, 
it  was  particularly  polite.  I  followed 
my  father  into  the  library,  which  was 
much  such  a  room  as  I  expected ; — 
a  most  charming  one.  There  sat 
Mrs.  Thrale  and  Dr.  Johnson,  the 
latter  finishing  his  breakfast  upon 
peaches.  Mrs.  Thrale  immediately 
rose  to  meet  me  very  sweetly,  and  to 
welcome  me  to  Streatham.  Dr.  John 
son,  too,  rose.  "  How  do,  dear  lady  ?  " 
My  father  told  him  it  was  not  his 
Miss,  but  another  of  his  own  bant- 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  in 


156. 

1783,  April  5.  I  took  leave  of  Mrs.  Thrale.  I  was  much 
moved.  I  had  some  expostulations  with  her.  She  said  that 
she  was  likewise  affected.  I  commended  the  Thrales  with  great 
good  will  to  God ;  may  my  petition  have  been  heard  * ! 

157. 

[In  the  Auction  Catalogue  of  Messrs.  Christie  and  Co.,  of 
June  5,  1888,  Lot  67*  is  '  a  leaf  of  Dr.  Johnson's  Memorandum 
Book  for  the  year  1783,  containing  entries  relating  to  his  classical 
studies,  &c.'] 

158. 

Jime  1 6.  I  went  to  bed,  and,  as  I  conceive,  about  3  in  the 
morning  I  had  a  stroke  of  the  palsy. 

17.  I  sent  for  Dr.  Heberden  and  Dr.  Brocklesby.  God  bless 
them. 

25.  Dr.  Heberden  took  leave 2. 

159. 

July  10.  Dartford,  Northfleet. 
n.  On  the  Medway. 

12.  Barber.     13.  [Entries  illegible.] 

13.  Church — Dryden. 

lings.  Dr.  Johnson,  however,  looked  palsy,  Johnson  wrote  to  her :  '  I  hope 
at  me  with  great  kindness,  and  not  at  that  what,  when  I  could  speak,  I  spoke 
all  in  a  discouraging  manner.'  Early  of  you  and  to  you  will  be  in  a  sober 
Diary  of  F.  Burney,  ii.  256.  *  Sam '  and  serious  hour  remembered  by  you ; 
was  Samuel  Greaves,  at  whose  tavern,  and  surely  it  cannot  be  remembered 
the  Essex  Head,  Johnson  started  his  but  with  some  degree  of  kindness, 
last  Club  in  1783.  Life,  iv.  253;  I  have  loved  you  with  virtuous  affec- 
Letters,  ii.  390.  tion ;  I  have  honoured  you  with 
1  Hawkins's  Johnson,  p.  553.  The  sincere  esteem.  Let  not  all  our  en- 
next  day  Mrs.  Thrale  recorded  in  her  dearments  be  forgotten,  but  let  me 
Diary  : — '  I  have  been  very  busy  pre-  have  in  this  great  distress  your  pity 
paring  to  go  to  Bath  and  save  my  and  your  prayers.'  Letters,  ii.  302. 
money.'  H  ay  ward's  Piozzi,  2nd  ed.,  2  Hawkins's  Johnson^  p.  558.  For 
i.  204.  See  also  Life,  iv.  198,  n.  4.  his  illness,  see  Life^  iv.  227,  and  Let- 
Ten  weeks  later,  after  his  stroke  of  ters,  ii.  300. 

14. 


112 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


14.  Kad-[?J 


i  6 
o  10 
o  5 


expense  of  journey 
to  Mr.  Wright 
to  Labourer 


230 

15.  Receipt  for  pension  April  5 — 
Longin  13  and  Xenophon.     Longin  *. 


Salust  imitates  Plato. 


1  I  owe  the  copy  of  this  entry  and 
those  of  August  28  and  30  and  Sep 
tember  17-18  to  the  kindness  of  Mr. 
Godfrey  Locker- Lamp  son  of  Rowfant, 
where  the  original  is  preserved. 

On  July  10  Johnson  went  to  Roch 
ester  to  visit  Bennet  Langton  who 
was  quartered  there  as  an  officer  of 
Militia.  Dartford  and  Northfleet  are 
on  the  road  between  Rochester  and 
London. 

Johnson  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  on 
July  23: — 'While  I  was  with  Mr. 
Langton  we  took  four  little  journies 
in  a  chaise,  and  made  one  little  voyage 
on  the  Medway,  with  four  misses  and 
their  maid,  but  they  were  very  quiet.' 
Letters,  ii.  320. 

His  pension  was  payable  quarterly 
on  the  old  quarter  days,  Jan.  5,  April  5, 
July  5,  Oct.  10.  Life,  i.  376,  «.  2. 
Owing  to  the  distressed  state  of  the 
Treasury,  brought  about  by  the  Ameri 
can  War,  payments  no  doubt  were 
often  at  this  time  in  arrears.  Even 
in  time  of  peace  there  had  been  great 
delays.  Lord  Chesterfield,  on  June  I , 
1767,  sending  some  money  to  his  son 
who  was  envoy  at  Dresden,  wrote  : — 
'  I  believe  it  will  come  very  season 
ably,  as  all  places,  both  foreign  and 
domestic,  are  so  far  in  arrears.  They 
talk  of  paying  you  all  up  to  Christmas. 
The  King's  inferior  servants  are  al 
most  starving.'  Chesterfield's  Letters, 
iv.  262. 

Johnson,  I  conjecture,  had  found 
among  Langton's  books  Longinus's 
Treatise  on  the  Sublime.  In  Section 
13  is  quoted  a  passage  from  Plato's 


Republic,  ix.  586  A.  where  it  is  said  :  —  > 
Oi  apa  <j)povT)<rf(i)S  Kal  aperi}?  aireipoi  .  .  . 
jSoove^judrcoi'  dtKrjv  KOTO)  del  /3X<7ro?rCf 
jcai  KtKwfwrts  els  yrjv  Kal  els  rpane^as 


'They  who  have  no  knowledge  of 
wisdom  and  virtue  .  .  .  like  beasts 
ever  look  downwards,  and  their  heads 
are  bent  to  the  ground,  or  rather  to 
the  table  ;  they  feed  full  their  bellies 
and  their  lusts  '  (Longinus  on  the 
Sublime,  translated  by  H.  L.  Ha  veil, 
1890,  p.  28).  This  recalled  to  him 
the  opening  lines  in  Sallust's  Cati 
line:  —  'Omnes  homines,  qui  sese 
student  praestare  ceteris  animalibus, 
summa  ope  niti  decet.  ne  vitam  silentio 
transeant  veluti  pecora,  quae  natura 
prona  atque  ventri  obedientia  finxit.' 

The  passage  in  which  Sallust  imi 
tated  Xenophon  was  perhaps  the 
following  quoted  in  section  28  from 
the  Cyropaedia,  i.  5.  12:  —  Ilovov  §6 
rov  £fjv  ij8e(os  ^yf/xofa  po/ufcrc*  KaX- 
XtOToy  6e  ndvTow  Kal  iro\ep.iKa>Ta.Tov 
KTTJp.a  els  ras  ^v^as  avyKeKofjucrde'  eirai- 
vovp.fvoi  yap  p.a\\ov  TJ  TOIS  aXXotf  airatri 
Xaipere.  [This  reading  differs  some 
what  from  the  accepted  text.] 

'  Labour  you  regard  as  the  guide 
to  a  pleasant  life,  and  you  have  laid 
up  in  your  souls  the  fairest  and  most 
soldier-like  of  all  gifts  :  in  praise  is 
your  delight—  more  than  in  anything 
else.'  Sallust  says:  —  'Verum  enim- 
vero  is  demum  mihi  vivere  atque  frui 
anima  videtur,  qui  aliquo  negotio  in- 
tentus  praeclari  facinoris  aut  artis 
bonae  famam  quaerit.'  Catilina, 
cap.  ii. 

Almighty 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  113 


160. 

July  30. 

Almighty  God,  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  World,  who 
sendest  sickness  and  restorest  health,  enable  me  to  consider, 
with  a  just  sense  of  thy  mercy,  the  deliverance  which  Thou 
hast  lately  granted  me,  and  assist  by  thy  Blessing,  as  is  best 
for  me,  the  means  which  I  shall  use  for  the  cure  of  the  disease 
with  which  I  am  now  afflicted.  Encrease  my  patience,  teach 
me  submission  to  thy  will,  and  so  rule  my  thoughts  and  direct 
my  actions,  that  I  may  be  finally  received  to  everlasting  happi 
ness  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen1. 


161. 

Aug.  15,  1783.  I  cut  from  the  vine  41  leaves,  which 
weighed  five  oz.  and  a  half,  and  eight  scruples: — I  lay  them 
upon  my  book-case,  to  see  what  weight  they  will  lose  by 
drying 2. 

162. 

August  28.     I  came  to  Heale  without  fatigue. 
30.     I  am  entertained  quite  to  my  mind. 

To  endeavour  to  conquer  scruples  about, 
Comedy. 
Books  in  Garret. 
Books  on  Shelves. 
Hebrew.     Pollution.  [?] 
Deus,  juva 3. 

1  G.  Strahan   inserts  this   prayer  Court.    Three  years  earlier  he  had 
among  those  of  which  it  is  not  known  written    to    Mrs.   Thrale : — *  I    have 
in  what  year  they  were  written.     It  three  bunches  of  grapes  on  a  vine  in 
belongs  to  1783,  at  a  time  when  John-  my  garden.'     Letters,  ii.  193. 

son  had  recovered  from  the  stroke  of  3  From  the  original  in  the  posses- 
the  palsy,  and  '  was  troubled  with  a  sion  of  Mr.  Locker- Lampson  of  Row- 
complaint  which  threatened  him  with  fant.  The  first  two  lines  of  this  entry 
a  surgical  operation.'  Life,  iv.  239.  are  quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  234. 

2  Life,  iii.  398,  n.  3,  where  by  mis-  For  Johnson's  visit  to  Heale,  near 
take  is  given  the  date  of  Aug.  15,  Salisbury,  see  Life,  iv.  234;  Letters, 
1773.  ii.  328. 

The  vine  grew  up  his  house  in  Bolt         For  his  scruples,  see  ante,  pp.  41,93. 

VOL.  i.  i  PRAYER 


ii4  Prayers  and  Meditations. 


163. 

PRAYER  FOR  MRS.  WILLIAMS  DURING  HER  ILLNESS 
PRECEDING  HER  DEATH  IN  1783 '. 

{August,  1783.] 

Almighty  God,  who  in  thy  late  visitation  hast  shewn  mercy  to 
me,  and  now  sendest  to  my  companion  disease  and  decay,  grant 
me  grace  so  to  employ  the  life  which  thou  hast  prolonged,  and 
the  faculties  which  thou  hast  preserved,  and  so  to  receive  the 
admonition  which  the  sickness  of  my  friend,  by  thy  appoint 
ment,  gives  me,  that  I  may  be  constant  in  all  holy  duties,  and  be 
received  at  last  to  eternal  happiness. 

Permit,  O  Lord,  thy  unworthy  creature  to  offer  up  this  prayer 
for  Anna  Williams  now  languishing  upon  her  bed,  and  about  to 
recommend  herself  to  thy  infinite  mercy.  O  God,  who  desirest 
not  the  death  of  a  sinner,  look  down  with  mercy  upon  her : 
forgive  her  sins  and  strengthen  her  faith.  Be  merciful,  O  Father 
of  Mercy,  to  her  and  to  me :  guide  us  by  thy  holy  spirit  through 
the  remaining  part  of  life  ;  support  us  in  the  hour  of  death,  and 
pardon  us  in  the  day  of  judgement,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 
Amen. 

164. 

September  6. 

I  had  just  heard  of  Williams's  Death 2. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  art  the  Lord  of 
life  and  death,  who  givest  and  who  takest  away,  teach  me 
to  adore  thy  providence,  whatever  Thou  shalt  allot  me  ;  make 
me  to  remember,  with  due  thankfulness,  the  comforts  which 
I  have  received  from  my  friendship  with  Anna  Williams.  Look 
upon  her,  O  Lord,  with  mercy,  and  prepare  me,  by  thy  grace, 


1  From  the  fly-leaf  of  a  copy  of 
the  fifth  edition  of  Prayers  and  Medi 
tations  (1817)  in  the  possession  of 
Mr.  C.  E.  Doble.  There  is  nothing 
to  show  who  transcribed  the  prayer 
or  whence  it  was  taken.  The  title  is 
not  Johnson's,  for  it  begins  '  Prayer 
of  Dr.  Johnson.'  Moreover  it  is  not 
correct,  for  though  the  prayer  is  partly 
for  her  it  is  still  more  for  him. 

8  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pem 


broke  College  MSS.  For  Mrs.  Wil 
liams's  death,  see  Life,  iv.  235,  and 
Letters,  ii.  331. 

John  Hoole  wrote  to  Bishop  Percy: 
— *  We  have  here  suffered  great  loss 
in  the  death  of  poor  Mrs.  Williams  . . . 
Mrs.  Hoole  and  I  shall  miss  her  ex 
tremely.  She  was  a  very  valuable 
woman— a  hearty,  sincere,  and  most 
intelligent  friend.'  Nichols,  Lit.  Hist. 
viii.  218. 

to 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  115 

to  die  with  hope,  and  to  pass  by  death  to  eternal  happiness, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 

165. 

{September  18.] 

Andover. 

Whitchurch. 

Overton. 

Basingstoke. 

Harford  Bridge  [Hartford  Bridge]. 

Bagshot. 

[Two  entries  illegible,  ?  Staines  and  Hounslow.] 

Brentford  *. 

166. 

1784. 

In  Messrs.  Sotheby  &  Go's  Auction  Catalogue  of  May  10, 

1875,  Lot  119  is  ca   beautiful   and   most  pious  prayer  in  the 

autograph  of  Dr.  Johnson,  dated  January  I,  p.m.  u  1784.'  It 
was  sold  for  eight  guineas. 

167. 

EASTER  DAY,  Apr.  n,  1784. 

Almighty  God,  my  Creator  and  my  Judge,  who  givest  life 
and  takest  it  away,  enable  me  to  return  sincere  and  humble 
thanks  for  my  late  deliverance  from  imminent  death2.  So 
govern  my  future  life  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  every  day  which 
thou  shalt  permit  to  pass  over  me,  may  be  spent  in  thy  service, 
and  leave  me  less  tainted  with  wickedness,  and  more  submissive 
to  thy  will. 

1  From  the  original  in  the  posses-  of  the  night.    At  Hounslow  the  coach 

sion  of  Mr.  Locker-Lampson  of  Row-  had  halted  for  breakfast  on  the  out- 

fant.  ward  journey.     Letters,  ii.  328,  n.  3. 

This  is  a  record  of  some  of  the  2  Ten  days  later  he  wrote  to  Mrs. 

places  on  the  road  from  Salisbury  to  Thrale  : — 'After  a  confinement  of  one 

London.     Johnson  reached  home  on  hundred  and  twenty-nine  days,  more 

Sept.  1 8  at  noon.     Life,  iv.  239.     He  than  the  third  part  of  a  year,  and  no 

had  taken  about  fifteen  hours  to  go  inconsiderable  part  of  human  life,  I 

from  London  to  Salisbury,  a  distance  this  day  returned  thanks  to  God  in 

of  eighty-two  miles.     Ib.  p.  234.     As  St.  Clement's  Church  for  my  recovery.' 

Andover  is  sixty-four  miles  from  Lon-  Letters,   ii.  392.     See  also  Life,  iv. 

don,  unless  he  broke  his  jourrey  in  262-4,  271. 
returning  he  must  have  travelled  most 

I  2,                                          Enable 


n6 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


Enable  me,  O  Lord,  to  glorify  thee  for  that  knowledge  of 
my  Corruption,  and  that  sense  of  thy  wrath,  which  my  deasease 
and  weakness,  and  danger  awakened  in  my  mind1.  Give 
me  such  sorrow  as  may  purify  my  heart,  such  indignation  as 
may  quench  all  confidence  in  myself,  and  such  repentance 
as  may  by  the  intercession  of  my  Redeemer  obtain  pardon. 
Let  the  commemoration  of  the  sufferings  and  Death  of  thy 
Son  which  I  am  now,  by  thy  favour,  once  more  permitted  to 
make 2,  fill  me  with  faith,  hope,  and  charity.  Let  my  purposes 
be  good  and  my  resolutions  unshaken,  and  let  me  not  be 
hindred  or  distracted  by  vain  and  useless  fears,  but  through 
the  time  which  yet  remains  guide  me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit, 
and  finally  receive  me  to  everlasting  life,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  Amen. 

168. 

June  8,  9,  and  10. 

In  Messrs.  Sotheby  &  Co's  Auction  Catalogue  of  May  10, 
1875,  Lot  116  is  'brief  autographic  memoranda  in  Latin  and 
English  of  Dr.  Johnson's  feelings  &c.  on  the  8th,  9th,  loth, 
June  1784.  "Very  breathless  and  dejected"  on  the  first  date/ 

It  was  sold  for  half  a  guinea 3. 


1  On  March  20  he  had  written  to 
Mrs.  Thrale : — '  Write  to  me  no  more 
about  dying  with  a  grace ;  when  you 
feel  what  I  have  felt  in  approaching 
eternity— in  fear  of  soon  hearing  the 
sentence  of  which  there  is  no  revoca 
tion,  you  will  know  the  folly ;  my  wish 
is,  that  you  may  know  it  sooner.  The 
distance  between  the  grave  and  the 
remotest  point  of  human  longevity,  is 
but  a  very  little ;  and  of  that  little  no 
path  is  certain.  You  knew  all  this, 
and  I  thought  that  I  knew  it  too; 
but  I  know  it  now  with  a  new  con 
viction.  May  that  new  conviction  not 
be  vain  ! '  Letters,  ii.  384. 

a  The  next  day  he  wrote  to  Dr. 
Taylor  : — '  I  could  not  have  the  con 
sent  of  the  physicians  to  go  to  church 
yesterday;  I  therefore  received  the 
holy  sacrament  at  home,  in  the  room 


where  I  communicated  with  dear 
Mrs.  Williams  a  little  before  her 
death.'  Life,  iv.  270. 

Hannah  More  says  that  'in  St. 
Clements  she  partook  of  the  holy 
sacrament  with  Johnson,  the  last  time 
he  ever  received  it  in  public.'  Me 
moirs,  i.  397.  This  must  have  been 
after  his  return  to  London  less  than 
a  month  before  his  death. 

3  Johnson  was  during  these  days 
the  guest  of  Dr.  Adams,  Master  of 
Pembroke  College,  Oxford.  It  was 
on  June  10  that  he  said  : — '  I  would 
be  a  Papist  if  I  could.  I  have  fear 
enough  ;  but  an  obstinate  rationality 
prevents  me.  I  shall  never  be  a 
Papist,  unless  on  the  near  approach 
of  death,  of  which  I  have  a  very  great 
terrour.  I  wonder  that  women  are 
not  all  Papists.'  BOSWELL.  'They 
OGod, 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  117 


169. 

Attgust  i,  1784,  Ashbourn. 

O  God,  most  merciful  Father  who  by  many  diseases  hast 
admonished  me  of  my  approach  to  the  end  of  life,  and  by  this 
gracious  addition  to  my  days  hast  given  me  an  opportunity 
of  appearing  once  more  in  thy  presence  to  commemorate  the 
sacrifice  by  which  thy  son  Jesus  Christ  has  taken  away  the 
sins  of  the  world,  assist  me  in  this  commemoration  by  thy  Holy 
Spirit  that  I  may  look  back  upon  the  sinfulness  of  my  life 
past  with  pious  sorrow,  and  efficacious  Repentance,  J  that  my 
resolutions  of  amendment  may  be  rightly  formed  and  diligently 
exerted,  that  I  may  be  freed  from  vain  and  useless  scruples, 
and  that  I  may  serve  thee  with  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity  for 
the  time  which  Thou  shalt  yet  allow  me,  and  finally  be  received 
to  Everlasting  Happiness  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord. 
Amen. 

To  work  as  I  can. 

To  attempt  a  book  of  prayers. 

To  do  good  as  occasion  offers  itself. 

To  review  former  resolutions. 

At  J  may  be  mentioned  /u.  x^  awx-vo  **»-&•  M1. 

170. 

Aug.  12, —84. 

Against  inquisitive  and  perplexing  thoughts 2. 

0  Lord,  my  Maker  and  Protector,  who  hast  graciously  sent 

are  not  more  afraid  of  death  than  abbreviations  in  Greek  he  wished  to 

men  are.'    JOHNSON.  '  Because  they  secure  secrecy,  in  case  the  prayer 

are  less  wicked.'     DR.  ADAMS.  '  They  should  fall  into  a  stranger's  hands, 

are  more  pious.'      JOHNSON.   'No,  My  friend  Mr.W.R.Morfill,  Reader 

hang  'em,  they  are  not  more  pious,  of  the  Slavonic  Languages  and  Litera- 

A  wicked  fellow  is  the  most  pious  ture  in  the  University  of  Oxford,  in- 

when  he  takes  to  it.     He'll  beat  you  geniously  conjectures  that  the   first 

all  at  piety.'    Life,  iv.  289.  three  entries  are  fu'Aaii/a  x°^*)  >  alvxpa 

1  From  the  original  in  the  posses-  vor\\uara  ;     K( va    £ou\e v^ara  —  melan- 
sion   of  Mr.  Robert   McCheane,   90  choly ;  shameful  thoughts  ;  vain  re- 
Palace  Gardens,  London.  solutions.     His  melancholy  if  he  had 

By  the  note  which  Johnson  made  indulged  it,  or  if  he  had  not  taken  the 

at  the  word  Repentance  it   is  clear  proper  means  to  subdue  it,  he  would 

that    he    wished    to    recall    certain  have  looked  upon  as  sinful, 

faults  when  he  was  using  the  prayer ;  2  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  370. 
it  is  no  less  clear  that  in  employing 

me 


n8  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

me  into  this  world,  to  work  out  my  salvation,  enable  me  to 
drive  from  me  all  such  unquiet  and  perplexing  thoughts  as 
may  mislead  or  hinder  me  in  the  practice  of  those  duties  which 
thou  hast  required.  When  I  behold  the  works  of  thy  hands 
and  consider  the  course  of  thy  providence,  give  me  Grace 
always  to  remember  that  thy  thoughts  are  not  my  thoughts, 
nor  thy  ways  my  ways.  And  while  it  shall  please  Thee  to 
continue  me  in  this  world  where  much  is  to  be  done  and 
little  to  be  known,  teach  me  by  thy  Holy  Spirit  to  withdraw 
my  mind  from  unprofitable  and  dangerous  enquiries,  from  diffi 
culties  vainly  curious,  and  doubts  impossible  to  be  solved.  Let 
me  rejoice  in  the  light  which  thou  hast  imparted,  let  me  serve 
thee  with  active  zeal,  and  humble  confidence,  and  wait  with 
patient  expectation  for  the  time  in  which  the  soul  which  Thou 
receivest,  shall  be  satisfied  with  knowledge.  Grant  this,  O  Lord, 
for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen  x. 

171. 

Aug.  28,  1784,  Ashbourn. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  who  afflictest  not 
willingly  the  children  of  Men,  and  by  whose  holy  will 2 
now  languishes  in  sickness  and  pain,  make,  I  beseech  [Thee,] 
this  punishment  effectual  to  those  gracious  purposes  for  which 
thou  sendest  it,  let  it,  if  I  may  presume  to  ask,  end  not  in  death, 
but  in  repentance,  let  him  live  to  promote  thy  kingdom  on 
earth  by  the  useful  example  of  a  better  life,  but  if  thy  will  be 
to  call  him  hence,  let  his  thoughts  be  so  purified  by  his  suffer 
ings,  that  he  may  be  admitted  to  eternal  Happiness.  And, 
O  Lord,  by  praying  for  him,  let  me  be  admonished  to  consider 
my  own  sins,  and  my  own  danger,  to  remember  the  shortness 
of  life,  and  to  use  the  time  which  thy  mercy  grants  me  to  thy 
glory  and  my  own  salvation,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  Amen. 

1  On  the  day  on  which  he  composed  2  The  blank  must  be  filled  up  by 

this  prayer  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  Taylor's   name.     Johnson   wrote   on 

correspondents  in  London  : — '  As  we  Aug.  19  : — '  My  friend  is  sick  himself, 

cannot  now  see  each  other  do  not  and  the  reciprocation  of  complaints 

omit  to  write, for  you  cannot  think  with  and  groans  affords  not  much  of  either 

what  warmth  of  expectation  I  reckon  pleasure  or  instruction.'  Life,  iv.  365. 
the  hours  of  a  post-day.'  Life,  iv.  354. 

In 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  119 

172. 

Sept.  5. 

In  Messrs.  Christie  &  Go's  Auction  Catalogue  of  June  5,  1888, 
Lot  38  is  'a  Prayer  in  Dr.  Johnson's  autograph,  dated  Ash- 
bourne,  Sept.  5,  17&4''  It  was  sold  for  five  guineas.  The  same 
autograph  was  sold  a  few  years  later  by  Messrs.  Sotheby  &  Co. 
for  eight  guineas.  The  Bookman,  Dec.  1893,  p.  75. 

173. 

Ashbourne,  September  18,  1784. 

Almighty  God,  merciful  Father,  who  art  the  giver  of  all 
good  enable  me  to  return  Thee  due  thanks  for  the  continuance 
of  my  life  and  for  the  great  mercies  of  the  last  year,  for  relief 
from  the  diseases  that  afflicted  me,  and  all  the  comforts  and 
alleviations  by  which  they  were  mitigated ;  and  O  my  gracious 
God  make  me  truly  thankful  for  the  call  by  which  thou  hast 
awakened  my  conscience,  and  summoned  me  to  Repentance. 
Let  not  thy  call,  O  Lord,  be  forgotten  or  thy  summons  neglected, 
but  let  the  residue  of  my  life,  whatever  it  shall  be,  be  passed 
in  true  contrition,  and  diligent  obedience.  Let  me  repent  of 
the  sins  of  my  past  years  and  so  keep  thy  laws  for  the  time 
to  come,  that  when  it  shall  be  thy  good  pleasure  to  call  me 
to  another  state,  I  may  find  mercy  in  thy  sight.  Let  thy 
Holy  Spirit  support  me  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  O  Lord 
grant  me  pardon  in  the  day  of  Judgement,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord.  Amen  x. 

174. 

PRECES. 

Oct.  31,  I7842. 
Against  the  incursion  of  evil  thoughts. 

1  From  the  original  in  the  posses-  those  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer? 
sion  of  Mr.  Alfred  Morrison  of  Font-  DR.  ADAMS  (in  a  very  earnest  man- 
hill  House.     Published  in  my  edition  ner) :  "  I  wish,  Sir,  you  would  com- 
of  the  Letters,  ii.  420.  pose  some  family  prayers."     JOHN- 

2  Croker's  Boswell,  p.  792.  SON.  "  I  will  not  compose  prayers  for 
These  entries  are  perhaps  the  result     you,  Sir,  because  you  can  do  it  for 

of  the  following  conversation  recorded  yourself.  But  I  have  thought  of  get- 
by  Boswell  in  the  previous  June: —  ting  together  all  the  books  of  prayers 
'On  Friday,  June  II,  we  talked  at  which  I  could,  selecting  those  which 
breakfast,  of  forms  of  prayer.  JOHN-  should  appear  to  me  the  best,  putting 
SON.  "  I  know  of  no  good  prayers  but  out  some,  inserting  others,  adding 

Repentance 


I2O 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


Repentance  and  pardon. — Lattd*. 

In  disease. 

On  the  loss  of  friends — by  death  ;  by  his  own  fault  or  friend's. 

On  the  unexpected  notice  of  the  death  of  others. 

Prayer  generally  recommendatory ; 
To  understand  their  prayers ; 
Under  dread  of  death  ; 

Prayer  commonly  considered  as  a  stated  and  temporary  duty — 
performed  and  forgotten — without  any  effect  on  the  following  day. 
Prayer — a  vow. — Taylor*. 

SCEPTICISM  CAUSED  BY 

1.  Indifference  about  opinions. 

2.  Supposition  that  things  disputed  are  disputable. 

3.  Demand  of  unsuitable  evidence. 

4.  False  judgement  of  evidence. 


some  prayers  of  my  own,  and  pre 
fixing  a  discourse  on  prayer."  We 
all  now  gathered  about  him,  and  two 
or  three  of  us  at  a  time  joined  in 
pressing  him  to  execute  this  plan. 
He  seemed  to  be  a  little  displeased 
at  the  manner  of  our  importunity, 
and  in  great  agitation  called  out, 
"  Do  not  talk  thus  of  what  is  so 
aweful.  I  know  not  what  time  GOD 
will  allow  me  in  this  world.  There 
are  many  things  which  I  wish  to  do." 
Some  of  us  persisted,  and  Dr.  Adams 
said,  "I  never  was  more  serious  about 
any  thing  in  my  life."  JOHNSON.  "Let 
me  alone,  let  me  alone ;  I  am  over 
powered."  And  then  he  put  his  hands 
before  his  face,  and  reclined  for  some 
time  upon  the  table.'  Life,  iv.  293. 

On  August  i  (ante,  p.  117)  he  had 
recorded  his  wish  '  to  attempt  a  book 
of  prayers.'  In  November  he  passed 
a  few  days  with  Dr.  Adams.  'We 
had  much  serious  talk  together,'  wrote 
Adams  to  Boswell, '  for  which  I  ought 
to  be  the  better  as  long  as  I  live.  You 
will  remember  some  discourse  which 


we  had  in  the  summer  upon  the 
subject  of  prayer,  and  the  difficulty 
of  this  sort  of  composition.  He  re 
minded  me  of  this,  and  of  my  having 
wished  him  to  try  his  hand,  and  to 
give  us  a  specimen  of  the  style  and 
manner  that  he  approved.  He  added, 
that  he  was  now  in  a  right  frame  of 
mind,  and  as  he  could  not  possibly 
employ  his  time  better,  he  would  in 
earnest  set  about  it.'  Life,  iv.  376. 

1  My  friend  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Hutton, 
Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford, 
suggests  that  Johnson  had  in  mind 
the  second  and  third  paragraphs  of 
Laud's  Officium  Quotidianum.  Laud's 
Works,  ed.  1853,  iii.  5. 

2  '  Be  careful  thou  dost  not  speak 
a  lie  in  thy  prayers,  which  though  not 
observed  is  frequently  practised  by 
careless    persons,  especially  in   the 
forms  of  confession,  affirming  things 
which  they  have  not  thought,  pro 
fessing  sorrow  which  is  not,  making 
a    vow    they    mean    not.'      Jeremy 
Taylor's  Works,  ed.  1865,  vii.  622. 

5.  Complaint 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  121 

5.  Complaint  of  the  obscurity  of  Scripture. 

6.  Contempt  of  fathers  and  of  authority. 

7.  Absurd  method  of  learning  objections  first. 

8.  Study  not  for  truth,  but  vanity. 

9.  Sensuality  and  a  vicious  life. 

10.  False  honour,  false  shame. 

11.  Omission  of  prayer  and  religious  exercises. 

175. 

[The  following  Prayer  was  composed  and  used  by  Doctor 
Johnson  previous  to  his  receiving  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  on  Sunday  December  5,  1784.  Note  by  G.  Strahan1.] 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  I  am  now,  as  to  human 
eyes  it  seems,  about  to  commemorate,  for  the  last  time,  the 
death  of  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour  and  Redeemer. 
Grant,  O  Lord,  that  my  whole  hope  and  confidence  may  be 
in  his  merits,  and  thy  mercy  ;  enforce  and  accept  my  imperfect 
repentance ;  make  this  commemoration  available  to  the  con 
firmation  of  my  faith,  the  establishment  of  my  hope,  and  the 
enlargement  of  my  charity;  and  make  the  death  of  thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ  effectual  to  my  redemption.  Have  mercy  upon 
me,  and  pardon  the  multitude  of  my  offences.  Bless  my  friends; 
have  mercy  upon  all  men.  Support  me,  by  the  grace  of  thy 
Holy  Spirit,  in  the  days  of  weakness,  and  at  the  hour  of  death ; 
and  receive  me,  at  my  death,  to  everlasting  happiness,  for  the 
sake  of  Jesus  Christ.  Amen2. 

176. 

[The  following  Meditations  and  Prayers  have  no  dates  in  the 
MS.  Note  by  G.  Strahan.] 

I  did  not  this  week  labour  my  preparation  so  much  as  I  have 
sometimes  done.  My  mind  was  not  very  quiet ;  and  an  anxious 
preparation  makes  the  duty  of  the  day  formidable  and  burden 
some.  Different  methods  suit  different  states  of  mind,  body  and 
affairs.  I  rose  this  day,  and  prayed,  then  went  to  tea,  and 
afterwards  composed  the  Prayer,  which  I  formed  with  great 

1  This  prayer  is  not  in  Johnson's  2  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  417.  He 
handwriting.  died  on  December  13. 

fluency. 


122 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


fluency.  I  went  to  church  ;  came  in  at  the  Psalms  ;  could  not 
hear  the  reader  in  the  lessons,  but  attended  the  prayers  with 
tranquillity. 

To  read  the  New  Testament  once  a  year,  in  Greek. 

177. 

Receiving  the  Sacrament 

I  profess  my  Faith  in  Jesus. 
I  declare  my  resolution  to  obey  him. 

I  implore  in  the  highest  act  of  worship,  Grace  to  keep  these 
resolutions. 

I  hope  to  rise  to  a  new  life  this  day. 

178. 

Prayer  on  the  study  of  Religion. 

Almighty  God,  our  heavenly  Father,  without  whose  help 
labour  is  useless,  without  whose  light  search  is  vain,  invigorate 
my  studies  and  direct  my  enquiries,  that  I  may,  by  due  diligence 
and  right  discernment  establish  myself  and  others  in  thy  holy 
Faith.  Take  not,  O  Lord,  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me,  let  not 
evil  thoughts  have  dominion  in  my  mind.  Let  me  not  linger 
in  ignorance,  but  enlighten  and  support  me,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen. 

179. 

O  Lord  God,  in  whose  hand  are  the  wills  and  affections  of 
men,  kindle  in  my  mind  holy  desires,  and  repress  sinful  and 
corrupt  imaginations ;  enable  me  to  love  thy  commandments, 
and  to  desire  thy  promises ;  let  me,  by  thy  protection  and 
influence,  so  pass  through  things  temporal,  as  finally  not  to 
lose  the  things  eternal ;  and  among  the  hopes  and  fears,  the 
pleasures  and  sorrows,  the  dangers  and  deliverances,  and  all  the 
changes  of  this  life,  let  my  heart  be  surely  fixed,  by  the  help 
of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  on  the  everlasting  fruition  of  thy  presence, 
where  true  joys  are  to  be  found.  Grant,  O  Lord,  these  petitions. 
Forgive,  O  merciful  Lord,  whatever  I  have  done  contrary  to 
thy  laws.  Give  me  such  a  sense  of  my  wickedness  as  may 
produce  true  contrition  and  effectual  repentance,  so  that  when 

I  shall 


Prayers  and  Meditations.  123 

I  shall  be  called  into  another  state,  I  may  be  received  among 
the  sinners  to  whom  sorrow  and  reformation  have  obtained 
pardon,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen *. 

180. 

Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father,  whose  clemency  I  now 
presume  to  implore,  after  a  long  life  of  carelessness  and  wicked 
ness,  have  mercy  upon  me.  I  have  committed  many  trespasses ; 
I  have  neglected  many  duties.  I  have  done  what  Thou  hast 
forbidden,  and  left  undone  what  Thou  hast  commanded.  For 
give,  merciful  Lord,  my  sins,  negligences,  and  ignorances,  and 
enable  me,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit,  to  amend  my  life  according  to 
thy  Holy  Word,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

181. 

O  merciful  God,  full  of  compassion,  long-suffering,  and  of  great 
pity,  who  sparest  when  we  deserve  punishment,  and  in  thy 
wrath  thinkest  upon  mercy ;  make  me  earnestly  to  repent,  and 
heartily  to  be  sorry  for  all  my  misdoings ;  make  the  remem 
brance  so  burdensome  and  painful,  that  I  may  flee  to  Thee  with 
a  troubled  spirit  and  a  contrite  heart ;  and,  O  merciful  Lord, 
visit,  comfort,  and  relieve  me  ;  cast  me  not  out  from  thy  presence, 
and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me,  but  excite  in  me  true 
repentance ;  give  me  in  this  world  knowledge  of  thy  truth,  and 
confidence  in  thy  mercy,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  ever 
lasting,  for  the  sake  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  thy  Son  Jesus 
Christ.  Amen 2. 

182. 

EJACULATION  3. 
Imploring  Diligence. 

O  God,  make  me  to  remember  that  the  night  cometh  when 
no  man  can  work 4. 

1  The  last  six  lines  are  quoted  in  the  dial-plate  of  his  watch  a  short 
the  Life,  iv.  397.  Greek    inscription,   taken   from    the 

2  This  prayer  is  not  in  the  Pew-  New   Testament,    Nu£    yap    epxerai, 
broke  College  MSS.  being  the  first  words  of  our  SAVIOUR'S 

3  This    ejaculation   is   not    in   the  solemn  admonition  to  the  improve- 
Pembroke  College  MSS.  ment  of  that  time  which  is  allowed  us 

4  'At  this  time  I  observed  upon  to  prepare  for  eternity:    "the  night 

[The 


I24 


Prayers  and  Meditations. 


183. 

[The  following  passage  in  the  Pembroke  College  MSS.  has 
been  scored  out.  It  bears  no  date,  but  the  paper  on  which  it 
is  written  follows  one  dated  Easter,  1770.  It  cannot  however 
belong  to  that  year;  for  on  Easter  Eve,  1770.  Johnson  dined 
at  Mr.  Thrale's  (ante,  p.  53)  and  not,  as  he  records  below,  at 

the  Mitre.] 

EASTER  EVE. 

I  rose  and  breakfasted,  eat  little ;  gave  orders  that  Mr.  * 
Stainesby  the  Clergyman  who  is  to  give  dying  Jenny  the 
Sacrament,  shall  have  $s.  $d.  Steevens  was  with  me.  Watson 
paid.  Mrs.  Otway.  About  Noon  I  grew  faint  by  fasting,  then 
dined  on  Fish  and  eggs  at  the  Mitre. 

I  then  came  home,  and  read  two  of  Rogers's  Sermons.  Be 
tween  ten  and  eleven  I  was  very  weary,  I  think,  by  fasting, 
and  a  night  rather  unquiet.  I  was  not  much  sleepy  this  day. 
O  God  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake  have  mercy  upon  me.  Amen. 

*  He  came  to  Jenny  very  carefully. 


cometh,  when  no  man  can  work.'" 
Life,  ii.  57. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  put  the  same  Greek 
inscription  on  the  dial  at  Abbotsford. 
Near  the  close  of  his  life,  on  a  visit 
from  home,  hearing  of  the  sudden 
death  of  a  friend,  who  like  himself 
had  suffered  from  paralysis,  he  in 
sisted  on  returning  at  once.  '  He 


would  listen  to  no  persuasions.  "  No 
William,"  he  said,  "this  is  a  sad 
warning.  I  must  home  to  work  while 
it  is  called  day ;  for  the  night  cometh 
when  no  man  can  work.  I  put  that 
text  many  a  year  ago  on  my  dial- 
stone  ;  but  it  often  preached  in  vain."  ' 
Lockhart's  Scott,  x.  88. 


ANNALS 


[An  account  of  the  life  of  DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  from  his 
birth  to  his  eleventh  year,  written  by  himself.  From  the 
MSS.  preserved  by  the  Doctor;  and  now  in  Possession  of 
RICHARD  WRIGHT,  Surgeon ;  Proprietor  of  the  Museum 
of  Antiquities,  Natural  and  Artificial  Curiosities,  &c.  Lichfield. 
LONDON  :  printed  for  RICHARD  PHILLIPS,  No.  6,  Bridge- 
Street,  Blackfriars ;  by  NICHOLS  and  SON,  Red  Lion  Passage, 
Fleet  Street.  1805.] 


PREFACE    TO    FIRST    EDITION. 

IT  will  be  expected,  that  the  Editor  of  the  following  curious 
and  interesting  pages  should  give  an  account  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  original  MSS.  came  into  his  possession. 

Mr.  Boswell,  in  his  admirable  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson  x,  thus 
observes : 

'  The  consideration  of  numerous  papers  of  which  he  was 
possessed  seems  to  have  struck  Johnson's  mind  with  a  sudden 
anxiety ;  and,  as  they  were  in  great  confusion,  it  is  much  to  be 
lamented  that  he  had  not  intrusted  some  faithful  and  discreet 
person  with  the  care  and  selection  of  them  ;  instead  of  which, 
he,  in  a  precipitate  manner,  burnt  large  masses  of  them,  with 

little  regard,  as  I  apprehend,  to  discrimination Two  very 

valuable  articles,  I  am  sure,  we  have  lost ;  which  were  two  quarto 
volumes,  containing  a  full,  fair,  and  most  particular  account  of  his 
own  life,  from  his  earliest  recollection.' 

It  does  not  appear,  that  the  MS.  from  which  the  following 
short  account  of  Dr.  Johnson's  early  life  is  copied,  was  one  of 
the  two  volumes  to  which  Boswell  alludes  ;  although  it  is 
evident,  from  his  enumeration  of  particular  dates  in  the  blank 
pages  of  the  book,  that  he  intended  to  have  finished  these 
Annals,  according  to  this  plan,  with  the  same  minuteness  of 
description,  in  every  circumstance  and  event. 

This  Volume  was  among  that  mass  of  papers  which  were 
ordered  to  be  committed  to  the  flames  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  thirty-two  pages  of  which  were  torn  out  by  himself,  and 
destroyed  ;  the  contents  of  those  which  remain  are  here  given 
with  fidelity  and  exactness.  Francis  Barber,  his  black  servant, 
unwilling  that  all  the  MSS.  of  his  illustrious  master  should 

1  iv.  403. 

be 


128 


Preface  to  First  Edition. 


be  utterly  lost,  preserved  these  relicks  from  the  flames.  By 
purchase  from  Barber's  widow  they  came  into  the  possession  of 
the  Editor. 

The  original  MSS.  are  deposited  in  the  Museum  of  Antiquities 
and  Natural  Curiosities,  belonging  to  the  Editor ;  which  is  open 
to  the  inspection  of  the  publick. 

LlCHFIELD, 

March  2,  1805. 


A  N ' NA  LS 


1709-10. 

Sept.  7  x,  1709, 1  was  born  at  Lichfield.  My  mother  had  a  very 
difficult  and  dangerous  labour,  and  was  assisted  by  George 
Hector,  a  man-midwife  of  great  reputation 2.  I  was  born  almost 
dead,  and  could  not  cry  for  some  time.  When  he  had  me  in  his 
arms,  he  said,  '  Here  is  a  brave  boy  V 

In  a  few  weeks  an  inflammation  was  discovered  on  my 
buttock,  which  was  at  first,  I  think,  taken  for  a  burn  ;  but  soon  ap 
peared  to  be  a  natural  disorder.  It  swelled,  broke,  and  healed. 

My  Father 4,  being  that  year  Sheriff  of  Lichfield,  and  to  ride  the 


1  1 8  of  the  present  style.    Note  by 
Dr.  Johnson. 

Dr.  Franklin  wrote  to  his  wife  on 
Jan.  6,  1773  : — '  I  feel  some  regard 
for  this  6th  of  January  as  my  old 
nominal  birthday,  though  the  change 
of  style  has  carried  the  real  day  for 
ward  to  the  1 7th.'  Franklin's  Works, 
ed.  1889,  v.  86. 

1709  was  a  year  of  great  dearth. 
According  to  the  table  of  the  prices 
of  wheat  in  the  Wealth  of  Nations, 
ed.  1811,  i.  357,  there  were  only  two 
dearer  years— 1648,  1649— between 
1595  and  1764. 

2  Probably  the  father  of  Johnson's 
old    schoolfellow    Edmund    Hector, 
the  Birmingham  surgeon.     Life,  ii. 
456- 

Accoucheur  is  not  in  Johnson's 
Dictionary.  The  earliest  instance  in 
the  Neiv  Eng.  Diet,  is  from  Tris 
tram  Shandy  in  1759: — 'Nothing 
will  serve  you  but  to  carry  off  the 
man-midwife. — Accoucheur^  if  you 

VOL.  I.  K 


please,  quoth  Dr.  Slop.' 

3  This    was    written    in    January, 
1765.     Note  by  Wright. 

4  1  have  copied  the  following  entry 
from  a  document  in  the  possession 
of  my  cousin,  Mr.  Horatio  Symonds, 
of  Beaumont  Street,  Oxford  : — 

«  "  Michaell  the  Sonne  of  William 
Johnson  and  Catherine  his  Wife  was 
baptized  Aprill  the  20." 

1  Copied  from  the  Register  belong 
ing  to  the  parish  of  Cubley  in  Derby 
shire. 

'  This  part  of  the  Register  is  so 
much  injured  by  Time  that  it  is  un 
certain  whether  the  Date  is  Aprill 
the  20  or  the  2.  I  think  it  is  the  20.' 

This  extract  is  endorsed  in  John 
son's  handwriting  : — '  Father's  regis 
ter.' 

Michael  Johnson  was  born  in  1656. 
Life,  iv.  393, ».  2. 

The  Rev.  Cave  Humfrey,  Rector 
of  Cubley,  informs  me  that  the  Regis 
ters  begin  in  1566,  but  that  several 
circuit 


130 


Annals. 


circuit  of  the  County *  next  day,  which  was  a  ceremony  then  per 
formed  with  great  pomp  ;  he  was  asked  by  my  mother,  '  Whom 
he  would  invite  to  the  Riding?'  and  answered,  *  All  the  town  now.' 
He  feasted  the  citizens  with  uncommon  magnificence,  and  was 
the  last  but  one  that  maintained  the  splendour  of  the  Riding2. 

I  was,  by  my  father's  persuasion,  put  to  one  Marclew,  com 
monly  called  Bellison  3,  the  servant,  or  wife  of  a  servant  of  my 
father,  to  be  nursed  in  George  Lane  4,  where  I  used  to  call  when 
I  was  a  bigger  boy,  and  eat  fruit  in  the  garden,  which  was  full  of 
trees  5.  Here  it  was  discovered  that  my  eyes  were  bad  ;  and  an 


pages  are  illegible.    To  his  kindness 
I  owe  the  following  entries  : — 

Baptisms. 
'Anno  1579. 

'The  —  dale  of  August  Edith 
Johnson  daughter  of  — .' 

'  1657. 

'  —  the  Sonne  of  William  Johnson 
and  Catherine  his  wife  baptized 
Apriil  — .' 

'  1658. 

'  —  the  Sonne  of  William  Johnson 
was  Baptiz:  Februarie  the  I4th.' 

'1661. 

'  Andrew.  The  Sonne  of  William 
Johnson  was  baptiz:  January  24th.' 

'  1701— Feb:  20— 
'  Samuel  ye  Sonn  of  William  John 
son  &  his  wife.' 

Burials. 
'  1701. 

'  October  29.  Avice  Johnson.  Wid. 
Buryed.  Affid.  made.  Nov:  ye  3d.' 

Johnson's  father  served  his  ap 
prenticeship  at  Leek  in  Staffordshire. 
Life,  i.  37.  A  writer  in  Notes  and 
Queries,  5th  Ser.,  v.  335,  says  that  in 
the  Register  of  Burials  in  that  town 
are  found  the  names  of  two  Samuel 
Johnsons — one  who  died  in  1654  and 
the  other  in  1712.  It  is  not  unlikely 
that  they  were  of  Dr.  Johnson's 
family. 

'  I  can  hardly  tell  who  was  my 
grandfather,'  said  Johnson.  Life,  ii. 


261.  He  relates  how  some  boatmen 
in  the  Hebrides,  speaking  of  him, 
'  asked  if  the  Englishman  could  re 
count  a  long  genealogy.  What  an 
swer  was  given  them,  the  conversa 
tion  being  in  Erse,  I  was  not  much 
inclined  to  examine.'  Works,  ix.  70. 

1  The  City  of  Lichfield  is  a  county 
in  itself.     Its  circuit  extends  about 
sixteen  miles. 

2  The  Sheriffs  '  Ride,'  or  peram 
bulation  of  the  City  boundary,  still 
takes  place  on   September  8.     The 
Sheriff,  I  am  informed,  on  that  day 
has  about  250  guests  to  breakfast  in 
the   Guildhall.      '  Various   calls  are 
made  en  route  for  refreshments, — 
chiefly  at    Freeford,   where    hospi 
tality  is   dispensed    by   the    owner, 
General  Dyott.'     For  the  family  of 
Dyott  see  Letters,  i.  342,  n.  3. 

3  The    name    of    Marklew,    alias 
Bellison,  is  yet  common  in  Lichfield, 
and     is     usually    so    distinguished. 
Note  by  R.  Wright. 

The  last  of  this  name  in  Lichfield, 
as  it  is  believed,  a  very  old  innkeeper, 
died  twenty  years  ago. 

4  Letters,  i.  154. 

5  Perhaps  Johnson  had  this  gar 
den  in  his  mind  when  he  wrote  in 
his  Life  of  Swift : — '  Almost   every 
boy  eats  as  much  fruit    as  he  can 
get  without  any  great  inconvenience.' 
Works,  viii.  194. 

issue 


Annals. 


issue  was  cut  in  my  left  arm  J ;  of  which  I  took  no  great  notice, 
as  I  think  my  mother  has  told  me,  having  my  little  hand  in 
a  custard. 

It  is  observable,  that,  having  been  told  of  this  operation, 
I  always  imagined  that  I  remembered  it,  but  I  laid  the  scene  in 
the  wrong  house.  Such  confusions  of  memory  I  suspect  to  be 
common. 

My  mother  visited  me  every  day,  and  used  to  go  different  ways, 
that  her  assiduity  might  not  expose  her  to  ridicule2;  and  often 
left  her  fan  or  glove  behind  her,  that  she  might  have  a  pretence 
to  come  back  unexpected ;  but  she  never  discovered  any  token 
of  neglect.  Dr.  Swinfen3  told  me,  that  the  scrofulous  sores 
which  afflicted  me  proceeded  from  the  bad  humours  of  the 
nurse,  whose  son  had  the  same  distemper,  and  was  likewise 
short-sighted,  but  both  in  a  less  degree.  My  mother  thought 
my  diseases  derived  from  her  family. 

In  ten  weeks  I  was  taken  home,  a  poor,  diseased  infant,  almost 
blind. 

I  remember  my  aunt  Nath.  Ford 4  told  me,  when  I  was  about 
.  .  .  years  old,  that  she  would  not  have  picked  such  a  poor 
creature  up  in  the  street. 

In  ...  67,  when  I  was  at  Lichfield 5,  I  went  to  look  for  my 


1  How  long  this  issue  was   con 
tinued  I  do  not  remember.  I  believe  it 
was  suffered  to  dry  when  I  was  about 
six  years  old.    Note  by  Johnson. 

2  A  curious  instance  of  the  bruta 
lity  of  the  age. 

3  His  godfather.  Life,  i.  34,  n.  2. 

4  Ib.  i.  49,  n.  3. 

5  Benjamin  West,  in  a  curiously- 
spelt  letter  to  a  friend  in  Philadelphia, 
dated  July  20,  1798,  speaking  of  his 
recollections  of  that  town,  says : — 
*  Early  habits  my  friend  make  lasting 
impressions  on  our  minds,  and  I  am 
prosuaded   were   I   to  revisit  those 
abodes,  I  should  feel  a  greater  joy 
than  those  felt  by  Dr.  Johnson  (that 
great  luminary  in  the  lettered  world) 
whom  I  heard  say  at  his  Club,  when 


a  friend  asked  the  Dr.  then  just 
returned  from  visiting  the  place  of 
his  Nativity  after  a  space  of  40  years 
absence,  what  gave  him  the  greatest 
delight  when  there?  Why  Sir  re- 
plyed  the  Dr.  it  was  to  jump  over 
that  Style  when  70  years  of  age, 
which  I  had  been  accustom  to  jump 
over  when  I  was  a  Boy  going  to  the 
day  school.  From  my  feelings  at 
the  recollection  of  my  juvinal  foot 
steps  I  am  prosuaded  the  Dr.  spoke 
the  dictates  of  his  heart.'  Pennsyl 
vania  Magazine ',  July  1894,  p.  221. 

Johnson's  first  visit  to  Lichfield 
(not  counting  one  of  five  days  in  the 
winter  of  1761-2)  was  in  1767,  thirty 
years  after  his  removal  to  London. 
Life,  iii.  452  ;  Letters,  i.  128-130. 
2,  nurse's 


132  Annals. 


nurse's  house  ;  and,  inquiring  somewhat  obscurely,  was  told  '  this 
is  the  house  in  which  you  were  nursed.'  I  saw  my  nurse's  son,  to 
whose  milk  I  succeeded,  reading  a  large  Bible,  which  my  nurse 
had  bought,  as  I  was  then  told,  some  time  before  her  death 

Dr.  Swinfen  used  to  say,  that  he  never  knew  any  child  reared 
with  so  much  difficulty. 

1710-11. 

In  the  second  year  I  knew  [?  know]  not  what  happened  to  me. 
I  believe  it  was  then  that  my  mother  carried  me  to  Trysul T, 
to  consult  Dr.  Atwood,  an  oculist  of  Worcester.  My  father 
and  Mrs.  Harriots2,  I  think,  never  had  much  kindness  for  each 
other.  She  was  my  mother's  relation  ;  and  he  had  none  so  high 
to  whom  he  could  send  any  of  his  family.  He  saw  her  seldom 
himself,  and  willingly  disgusted  her,  by  sending  his  horses3  from 
home  on  Sunday ;  which  she  considered,  and  with  reason,  as 
a  breach  of  duty.  My  father  had  much  vanity,  which  his  ad 
versity  hindered  from  being  fully  exerted 4.  I  remember,  that, 
mentioning  her  legacy  in  the  humility  of  distress,  he  called  her 
our  good  Cousin  Harriots.  My  mother  had  no  value  for  his  rela 
tions  ;  those  indeed  whom  we  knew  of  were  much  lower  than  hers5. 
This  contempt  began,  I  know  not  on  which  side,  very  early : 
but,  as  my  father  was  little  at  home,  it  had  not  much  effect. 

My  father  and  mother  had  not  much  happiness  from  each 
other.  They  seldom  conversed  ;  for  my  father  could  not  bear 
to  talk  of  his  affairs ;  and  my  mother,  being  unacquainted  with 
books,  cared  not  to  talk  of  any  thing  else.  Had  my  mother 
been  more  literate,  they  had  been  better  companions.  She 
might  have  sometimes  introduced  her  unwelcome  topick  with 

1  Trysull, near Wolverhampton.  4  'My  father,'   he    said,    'was   a 

2  Ante,  p.  56.  foolish  old  man  ;  that  is  to  say,  fool- 

3  His  business,    as   his   son    told  ish  in  talking  of  his  children.'      Ib.  i. 
Mrs.  Thrale,  '  led  him  to  be  much  on  40.     For  his  '  distress '  see  ib.  i.  78- 
horse-back.'  Post,  p.  148.    The  title-  80. 

page   of  a  book  published  by  him  5  They  did  not  rise  very  high,  for 

shows  that  in  1687  he  had  shops  at  in  1773  Johnson  wrote: — 'Mr.  Cor- 

Lichfield,  Uttoxeter,  and  Ashby-de-  nelius  Harrison  was  the  only  one  of 

la-Zouch.    Life,  i.  36,  ».  3.     Besides,  my  relations  who  ever  rose  in  fortune 

he   attended   book-sales   in  all  the  above  penury,  or  in  character  above 

country  round.  neglect.'  Letters,  i.  225. 

more 


Annals. 


more  success,  if  she  could  have  diversified  her  conversation.  Of 
business  she  had  no  distinct  conception;  and  therefore  her 
discourse  was  composed  only  of  complaint,  fear,  and  suspicion. 
Neither  of  them  ever  tried  to  calculate  the  profits  of  trade, 
or  the  expenses  of  living.  My  mother  concluded  that  we  were 
poor,  because  we  lost  by  some  of  our  trades ;  but  the  truth  was, 
that  my  father,  having  in  the  early  part  of  his  life  contracted 
debts,  never  had  trade  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  pay  them,  and 
maintain  his  family ;  he  got  something,  but  not  enough. 

It  was  not  till  about  1768,  that  I  thought  to  calculate  the 
returns  of  my  father's  trade,  and  by  that  estimate  his  probable 
profits.  This,  I  believe,  my  parents  never  did. 

1711-12. 

This  year,  in  Lent  — 12, 1  was  taken  to  London,  to  be  touched 
for  the  evil  by  Queen  Anne  r.  My  mother  was  at  Nicholson's, 


1  Life,  i.  43,  and  post,  p.  1 52. 

Evelyn  records  on  July  6,  1660  : — 
*  His  Majesty  began  first  to  touch  for 
the  evil  according  to  custom,  thus  : 
his  Majesty  sitting  under  his  state 
[canopy]  in  the  Banqueting- House 
the  chirurgeons  cause  the  sick  to  be 
brought  or  led,  up  to  the  throne, 
where  they  kneeling,  the  King  strokes 
their  faces  or  cheeks  with  both  his 
hands  at  once,  at  which  instant  a 
chaplain  in  his  formalities  [solemn 
dress]  says  :  "  He  put  his  hands  upon 
them,  and  he  healed  them."  This 
is  said  to  every  one  in  particular. 
When  they  have  been  all  touched, 
they  come  up  again  in  the  same 
order,  and  the  other  chaplain  kneel 
ing,  and  having  angel  gold1  strung 
on  white  ribbon  on  his  arm,  de 
livers  them  one  by  one  to  his  Ma 
jesty,  who  puts  them  about  the  necks 
of  the  touched  as  they  pass,  while  the 
first  chaplain  repeats, "  That  is  the 
true  light  who  came  into  the  world." 
Then  follows  an  Epistle  (as  at  first  a 


Gospel)  with  the  Liturgy  prayers  for 
the  sick,  with  some  alteration  ;  lastly 
the  blessing ;  and  then  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  and  the  Comptroller  of 
the  Household  bring  a  basin,  ewer 
and  towel  for  his  Majesty  to  wash.' 
Evelyn's  Diary,  ed.  1872,  i.  357. 

Pepys,  who  saw  the  ceremony  nine 
months  later,  says  : — '  The  King  did 
it  with  great  gravity,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  to  be  an  ugly  office  and  a  simple 
one.'  Pepys's  Diary,  ed.  1851,  i.  212. 

Hearne  records  on  Aug.  3, 1728  : — 
'  Yesterday  Mr.  Gilman  of  St.  Peter's 
parish  in  the  east,  Oxford  (a  lusty, 
heartick,  thick,  short  man)  told  me 
that  he  is  in  the  85th  year  of  his  age, 
and  that  at  the  restoration  of  K. 
Charles  ii,  being  much  afflicted  with 
the  king's  evil,  he  rode  up  to  London 
behind  his  father,  was  touched  on 
a  Wednesday  by  that  King,  was  in 
very  good  condition  by  that  night, 
and  by  the  Sunday  night  immediately 
following  was  perfectly  recovered,  and 
hath  so  continued  ever  since.  He 


1  A  piece  of  money  impressed  with  an  angel.     It  was  rated  at  ten  shillings.     John 
son's  Dictionary. 

the 


134 


Annals. 


the  famous  bookseller,  in  Little  Britain x.  I  always  retained 
some  memory  of  this  journey,  though  I  was  then  but  thirty 
months  old.  I  remembered  a  little  dark  room  behind  the 
kitchen,  where  the  jack-weight  fell  through  a  hole  in  the  floor, 
into  which  I  once  slipped  my  leg 2. 

I  remember  a  boy  crying  at  the  palace  when  I  went  to  be 
touched.  Being  asked  'on  which  side  of  the  shop  was  the 
counter?'  I  answered,  'on  the  left  from  the  entrance,'  many 
years  after,  and  spoke,  not  by  guess,  but  by  memory.  We  went 
in  the  stage-coach, and  returned  in  the  waggon 3,  as  my  mother  said, 
because  my  cough  was  violent.  The  hope  of  saving  a  few  shillings 
was  no  slight  motive ;  for  she,  not  having  been  accustomed  to 
money,  was  afraid  of  such  expenses  as  now  seem  very  small.  She 
sewed  two  guineas  in  her  petticoat,  lest  she  should  be  robbed. 


hath  constantly  wore  the  piece  of 
gold  about  his  neck  that  he  received 
of  the  King,  and  he  had  it  on  yester 
day  when  I  met  him.'  Remains  of 
Hearne,  ed.  1869,  iii.  12. 

Peter  Wentworth  wrote  on  April 
23,  1714  : — '  The  best  news  I  can  tell 
you  in  this  is  that  the  Queen  is  well, 
and  grows  better  and  better  every 
day,  has  touch't  twice  a  week.' 
Wentworth  Papers,  p.  375. 

H  ume  says :— 'The  practice  was  first 
dropped  by  the  present  royal  family, 
who  observed  that  it  could  no  longer 
give  amazement  even  to  the  populace, 
and  was  attended  with  ridicule  in  the 
eyes  of  all  men  of  understanding.' 
History  of  England,  ed.  1773,  i.  178. 

Sully,  writing  of  a  letter  which  he 
had  received  from  Henry  IV,  says  : — 
'  II  me  mande,  dans  celle-ci,  d'en- 
voyer  deux  cents  ecus  pour  chacun 
des  malades  des  ecrouelles,  que  sa 
maladie  avait  empeche  qu'il  ne  tou- 
chat,  et  qu'il  n'avait  pourtant  pas 
voulu  qu'on  renvoyat.'  Mtmoires  de 
Sully,  ed.  1788,  iv.  200. 

1  My  mother,  then  with  child, 
concealed  her  pregnancy,  that  she 
might  not  be  hindered  from  the 


journey.    Note  by  Johnson. 

'Little  Britain  extends  from  Al- 
dersgate  Street  to  Duck  Lane.'  Dods- 
ley's  London,  iii.  316.  Roger 
North,  writing  of  Little  Britain  soon 
after  the  Restoration,  says  : — '  Then 
Little  Britain  was  a  plentiful  and 
perpetual  emporium  of  learned  au 
thors,  and  men  went  thither  as  to  a 
market.  This  drew  to  the  place  a 
mighty  trade,  the  rather  because  the 
shops  were  spacious,  and  the  learned 
gladly  resorted  to  them,  where  they 
seldom  failed  to  meet  with  agreeable 
conversation.  And  the  booksellers 
themselves  were  knowing  and  con- 
versible  men.'  Lives  of  the  Norths, 
ed.  1826,  iii.  294. 

2  I    seem    to    remember,   that    I 
played  with  a  string  and  a  bell,  which 
my  cousin  Isaac  Johnson  gave  me ; 
and   that   there   was   a   cat   with   a 
white  collar,  and  a  dog,  called  Chops, 
that  leaped  over  a  stick :  but  I  know 
not  whether  I  remember  the  thing, 
or  the  talk  of  it.     Note  by  Johnson. 

3  In  Roderick  Random,  chaps,  xi- 
xiii,  an  account  is  given  of  a  journey 
in     the     London     and     Newcastle 
wagon. 

We 


Annals.  T35 


We  were  troublesome  to  the  passengers ;  but  to  suffer  such 
inconveniences  in  the  stage-coach  was  common  in  these  days  to 
persons  in  much  higher  rank  *.  She  bought  me  a  small  silver 
cup  and  spoon,  marked  SAM.  I.  lest  if  they  had  been  marked 
S.  I.  which  was  her  name,  they  should,  upon  her  death,  have 
been  taken  from  me.  She  bought  me  a  speckled  linen  frock, 
which  I  knew  afterwards  by  the  name  of  my  London  frock.  The 
cup  was  one  of  the  last  pieces  of  plate  which  dear  Tetty  sold  in 
our  distress 2.  I  have  now  the  spoon.  She  bought  at  the  same 
time  two  teaspoons,  and  till  my  manhood  she  had  no  more. 

My  father  considered  tea 3  as  very  expensive,  and  discouraged 
my  mother  from  keeping  company  with  the  neighbours,  and 
from  paying  visits  or  receiving  them.  She  lived  to  say,  many 
years  after,  that,  if  the  time  were  to  pass  again,  she  would 
not  comply  with  such  unsocial  injunctions. 

I  suppose  that  in  this  year  I  was  first  informed  of  a  future 
state.  I  remember,  that  being  in  bed  with  my  mother  one 
morning,  I  was  told  by  her  of  the  two  places  to  which  the 
inhabitants  of  this  world  were  received  after  death ;  one  a  fine 
place  filled  with  happiness,  called  Heaven ;  the  other  a  sad 
place,  called  Hell.  That  this  account  much  affected  my  ima 
gination,  I  do  not  remember.  When  I  was  risen,  my  mother 
bade  me  repeat  what  she  had  told  me  to  Thomas  Jackson4. 
When  I  told  this  afterwards  to  my  mother,  she  seemed  to 
wonder  that  she  should  begin  such  talk  so  late  as  that  the 
first  time  could  be  remembered. 

1  I  was  sick ;  one  woman  fondled      Societies  of  the  Commonwealth,  1876, 
me,  the  other  was  disgusted.  Note  by      p.  498. 

Johnson.  '  Lord   Bristol    [writing    in    1728] 

2  Life,  i.  163.  ascribes     Lord     Hervey's    delicate 

3  In  January,    1731,  the   price  of  health  to  the  use  of  "  that  detestable 
the  cheapest  tea  in  London  was  ioj.  and  poisonous  plant  tea,  which  had 
per  pound,  of  the  dearest  35 s.  Gentle-  once   brought  him  to  death's  door, 
man's  Magazine,  1731,  p.  39.  and,  if  persisted  in,  would  carry  him 

The  Quakers  of  Aberdeen  forbade  through  it,"  and  he  implores  him  in 

the  use  of  it.     '  In  1715  the  "fashion-  the   most  pathetic  terms  to  give  it 

able  using  of  tea  "  was  ordered  to  be  up.'  Lord  Hervey's  Memoirs,  vol.  i, 

"  avoided,"   "  tea-tables    to   be  laid  Preface,  p.  27. 

aside  as  formerly  advised." '    R.  Bar-  4  Their  man-servant.    Life,  i.  38. 

clay's  Inner  Life  of  the   Religious  See  post,  p.  164. 

{Here 


136  Annals. 


[Here  there  is  a  chasm  of  thirty-eight  pages. in  the  manuscript*^ 
examination.      We   always    considered   it   as   a   day   of 


ease ;  for  we  made  no  preparation,  and  indeed  were  asked 
commonly  such  questions  as  we  had  been  asked  often  before, 
and  could  regularly  answer.  But  I  believe  it  was  of  use  at  first. 

On  Thursday  night  a  small  portion  of  JEsop  was  learned  by 
heart,  and  on  Friday  morning  the  lessons  in  ^Esop  were  repeated  ; 
I  believe,  not  those  in  Helvicus2.  On  Friday  afternoon  we 
learned  Qua  Genus 3 ;  I  suppose  that  other  boys  might  say 
their  repetition,  but  of  this  I  have  now  no  distinct  remembrance. 
To  learn  Qua  Genus  was  to  me  always  pleasing ;  and  As  in 
Prasenti  was,  I  know  not  why,  always  disgusting. 

When  we  learned  our  Accidence  we  had  no  parts,  but,  I  think, 
two  lessons.  The  boys  that  came  to  school  untaught  read  the 
Accidence  twice  through  before  they  learned  it  by  heart. 

When  we  learned  Propria  qua  Maribus,  our  parts  were  in 
the  Accidence ;  when  we  learned  As  in  Prasenti,  our  parts  were 
in  the  Accidence  and  Propria  qua  Maribus  \  when  we  learned 
Syn taxis,  in  the  former  three.  Propria  qua  Maribus  I  could 
repeat  without  any  effort  of  recollection.  I  used  to  repeat  it  to 
my  mother  and  Tom  Johnson  ;  and  remember,  that  I  once  went 
as  far  as  the  middle  of  the  paragraph,  '  Mascula  dicuntur  mono- 
syllaba,'  in  a  dream. 

On  Saturday,  as  on  Thursday,  we  were  examined.  We  were 
sometimes,  on  one  of  those  days,  asked  our  Catechism  4,  but  with 
no  regularity  or  constancy. 

The  progress  of  examination  was  this.  When  we  learned 
Propria  qua  Maribus^  we  were  examined  in  the  Accidence  ; 
particularly  we  formed  Verbs,  that  is.  went  through  the  same 
person  in  all  the  Moods  and  Tenses.  This  was  very  difficult  to 

1  What  follows  is  the  account  of  Latin,  madam;  he  is  just  got  into 
his  studies  at  Lichfield  School.     See  Quae   Genus? '     Joseph    Andrews, 
Life,  i.  43.  Book  iv.  ch.  9. 

2  Christopher     Helvicus       (1581-  Quae  Genus,  As  in  Praesenti  and 
1616)  was  Professor  of  Greek  and  Propria  quae  Maribus  are  chapters 
Divinity  at  Giessen.  in  the  Eton  Latin  Grammar. 

3  '  Lady  Booby,  seeing  a  book  in  4  G.  Hector  never  had  been  taught 
Dick's  hand,  asked  him,  if  he  could  his  Catechism.    Note  by  Johnson. 
read.     "  Yes,"  cried  Adams,  "  a  little 

me; 


Annals.  137 


me ;  and  I  was  once  very  anxious  about  the  next  day,  when  this 
exercise  was  to  be  performed,  in  which  I  had  failed  till  I  was 
discouraged.  My  mother  encouraged  me,  and  I  proceeded  better. 
When  I  told  her  of  my  good  escape,  '  We  often,'  said  she,  dear 
mother !  l  come  off  best,  when  we  are  most  afraid.'  She  told 
me,  that,  on.ce  when  she  asked  me  about  forming  verbs,  I  said, 
'  I  did  not  form  them  in  an  ugly  shape.'  '  You  could  not,'  said 
she,  '  speak  plain ;  and  I  was  proud  that  I  had  a  boy  who  was 
forming  verbs.'  These  little  memorials  sooth  my  mind.  Of  the 
parts  of  Corderius '  or  ^Esop,  which  we  learned  to  repeat,  I  have 
not  the  least  recollection,  except  of  a  passage  in  one  of  the 
Morals,  where  it  is  said  of  some  man,  that,  when  he  hated 
another,  he  made  him  rich ;  this  I  repeated  emphatically  in 
my  mother's  hearing,  who  could  never  conceive  that  riches  could 
bring  any  evil.  She  remarked  it,  as  I  expected. 

I  had  the  curiosity,  two  or  three  years  ago,  to  look  over 
Garretson's  Exercises,  Willymot's  Particles2,  and  Walker's 
Exercises ;  and  found  very  few  sentences  that  I  should  have 
recollected  if  I  had  found  them  in  any  other  books.  That 
which  is  read  without  pleasure  is  not  often  recollected  nor 
infixed  by  conversation,  and  therefore  in  a  great  measure 
drops  from  the  memory3.  Thus  it  happens  that  those  who 
are  taken  early  from  school,  commonly  lose  all  that  they  had 
learned. 

When  we  learned  As  in  Prcesenti,  we  parsed  Propria  qua 
Maribus  by  Hool's  Terminations ;  and,  when  we  learned  Syntaxis, 
we  parsed  As  in  Prcesenti ;  and  afterwards  QZKZ  Genus,  by  the 
same  book ;  sometimes,  as  I  remember,  proceeding  in  order  of 
the  rules,  and  sometimes,  particularly  in  As  in  Prczsenti^  taking 
words  as  they  occurred  in  the  Index. 

1  The  ensign  in  T0m  Janes  (Bk.v'u,  mot,    a    schoolmaster,    was    foolish 
c.  12)  exclaimed  : — '  And  there's  Cor-  enough  to  re-translate  these  Essays 

derius,  another  d d  son  of  a  whore  into  English  in  the  beginning  of  this 

that  hath  got  me  many  a  flogging.'  [the   eighteenth]    century.'       Prior's 

2  '  It    is    not    commonly  known,'  M alone >  p.  424. 

writes  Malone,  '  that  the  translation  3  '  A  man,'  said  Johnson,  *  ought 
of  Bacon's  Essays  into  Latin,  which  to  read  just  as  inclination  leads  him  ; 
was  published  in  1619,  was  done  by  for  what  he  reads  as  a  task  will  do 
the  famous  John  Selden.  One  Willy-  him  little  good.'  Life,  i.  428. 

The 


138  Annals. 


The  whole  week  before  we  broke  up,  and  the  part  of  the  week 
in  which  we  broke  up,  were  spent  wholly,  I  know  not  why,  in 
examination  ;  and  were  therefore  easy  to  both  us  and  the  master. 
The  two  nights  before  the  vacation  were  free  from  exercise. 

This  was  the  course  of  the  school,  which  I  remember  with 
pleasure ;  for  I  was  indulged  and  caressed  by  my  master,  and, 
I  think,  really  excelled  the  rest. 

I  was  with  Hawkins x  but  two  years,  and  perhaps  four  months. 
The  time,  till  I  had  computed  it,  appeared  much  longer  by  the 
multitude  of  novelties  which  it  supplied,  and  of  incidents,  then 
in  my  thoughts  important,  it  produced.  Perhaps  it  is  not 
possible  that  any  other  period  can  make  the  same  impression  on 
the  memory. 

4-  1719. 

In  the  Spring  of  1719,  our  class  consisting  of  eleven,  the 
number  was  always  fixed  in  my  memory,  but  one  of  the  names 
I  have  forgotten,  was  removed  to  the  upper  school,  and  put 
under  Holbrook2,  a  peevish  and  ill-tempered  man.  We  were 
removed  sooner  than  had  been  the  custom  ;  for  the  head-master, 
intent  upon  his  boarders,  left  the  town-boys  long  in  the  lower 
school.  Our  removal  was  caused  by  a  reproof  from  the  Town- 
clerk  ;  and  Hawkins  complained  that  he  had  lost  half  his  profit. 
At  this  removal  I  cried.  The  rest  were  indifferent.  My  exercise 
in  Garretson  was  somewhere  about  the  Gerunds.  Our  places  in 
y£sop  and  Helvicus  I  have  totally  forgotten. 

At  Whitsuntide  Mrs.  Longworth  brought  me  a  'Hermes  Garret- 
soni,'  of  which  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  could  make  much 
use.  It  was  afterwards  lost,  or  stolen  at  school.  My  exercise 
was  then  in  the  end  of  the  Syntax.  Hermes  furnished  me  with 
the  word  inliciturus,  which  I  did  not  understand,  but  used  it. 

This  task  was  very  troublesome  to  me  ;  I  made  all  the  twenty- 
five  exercises,  others  made  but  sixteen.  I  never  shewed  all 
mine ;  five  lay  long  after  in  a  drawer  in  the  shop.  I  made  an 
exercise  in  a  little  time,  and  shewed  it  my  mother  ;  but  the  task 
being  long  upon  me,  she  said,  *  Though  you  could  make  an 

1  'The  usher  or  under-master  of  Johnson,  'very  skilful  in  his  little 
Lichfield  School  ;  '  a  man,'  said  way.'  Life,  i.  43.  2  Ib.  i.  44. 

exercise 


Annals.  139 


exercise  in  so  short  a  time,  I  thought  you  would  find  it  difficult 
to  make  them  all  as  soon  as  you  should.' 

This  Whitsuntide,  I  and  my  brother  were  sent  to  pass  some 
time  at  Birmingham  I ;  I  believe,  a  fortnight.  Why  such  boys 
were  sent  to  trouble  other  houses,  I  cannot  tell.  My  mother 
had  some  opinion  that  much  improvement  was  to  be  had  by 
changing  the  mode  of  life.  My  uncle  Harrison  was  a  widower ; 
and  his  house  was  kept  by  Sally  Ford,  a  young  woman  of  such 
sweetness  of  temper,  that  I  used  to  say  she  had  no  fault.  We 
lived  most  at  uncle  Ford's,  being  much  caressed  by  my  aunt, 
a  good-natured,  coarse  woman,  easy  of  converse,  but  willing  to 
find  something  to  censure  in  the  absent.  My  uncle  Harrison 
did  not  much  like  us,  nor  did  we  like  him.  He  was  a  very  mean 
and  vulgar  man,  drunk  every  night 2,  but  drunk  with  little  drink, 
very  peevish,  very  proud,  very  ostentatious,  but,  luckily,  not  rich. 
At  my  aunt  Ford's  I  eat  so  much  of  a  boiled  leg  of  mutton,  that 
she  used  to  talk  of  it.  My  mother,  who  had  lived  in  a  narrow 
sphere,  and  was  then  affected  by  little  things,  told  me  seriously  that 
it  would  hardly  ever  be  forgotten.  Her  mind,  I  think,  was  after 
wards  much  enlarged,  or  greater  evils  wore  out  the  care  of  less. 

I  staid  after  the  vacation  was  over  some  days  ;  and  remember, 
when  I  wrote  home,  that  I  desired  the  horses  to  come  on  Thurs 
day  of  the  first  school  week  ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  they 
should  be  welcome  to  go.  I  was  much  pleased  with  a  rattle  to 
my  whip,  and  wrote  of  it  to  my  mother. 

When  my  father  came  to  fetch  us  home,  he  told  the  ostler, 
that  he  had  twelve  miles  home 3,  and  two  boys  under  his  care. 
This  offended  me.  He  had  then  a  watch,  which  he  returned 
when  he  was  to  pay  for  it 4. 

In  making,  I  think,  the  first  exercise  under  Holbrook,  I  per 
ceived  the  power  of  continuity  of  attention,  of  application  not 
suffered  to  wander  or  to  pause.  I  was  writing  at  the  kitchen 

1  In  1700  the  population  of  Bir-  not  thought  the  worse  of.'    Life,  v.  59. 
mingham  was  15,032;  in  1731,23,286.  3  Lichfield  was  sixteen  miles  from 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  1743,  p.  539.  Birmingham. 

2  *  I  remember  (said  Dr.  Johnson)  4  Johnson,  Hawkins  believed,  did 
when  all  the  decent  people  in  Lich-  not  have  a  watch  till  he  was  in  his 
field  got  drunk  every  night  and  were  fifty-ninth  year.    Ib.  ii.  57,  n.  4. 

windows 


140  Annals. 


windows,  as  I  thought,  alone,  and  turning  my  head  saw  Sally 
dancing.  I  went  on  without  notice,  and  had  finished  almost 
without  perceiving  that  any  time  had  elapsed.  This  close  atten 
tion  I  have  seldom  in  my  whole  life  obtained. 

In  the  upper-school,  I  first  began  to  point  my  exercise,  which 
we  made  noon's  business.  Of  the  method  I  have  not  so  distinct 
a  remembrance  as  of  the  foregoing  system.  On  Thursday 
morning  we  had  a  lesson,  as  on  other  mornings.  On  Thursday 
afternoon,  and  on  Saturday  morning,  we  commonly  made  ex 
amples  to  the  Syntax. 

We  were  soon  raised  from  ^Esop  to  Phaedrus,  and  then  said 
our  repetition  on  Friday  afternoon  to  Hunter.  I  remember  the 
fable  of  the  wolf  and  lamb,  to  my  draught — that  I  may  drink. 
At  what  time  we  began  Phaedrus,  I  know  not.  It  was  the  only 
book  which  we  learned  to  the  end.  In  the  latter  part  thirty 
lines  were  expected  for  a  lesson.  What  reconciles  masters  to 
long  lessons  is  the  pleasure  of  tasking. 

Helvicus  was  very  difficult :  the  dialogue  Vestitus,  Hawkins 
directed  us  to  omit,  as  being  one  of  the  hardest  in  the  book.  As  I 
remember,  there  was  another  upon  food,  and  another  upon  fruits, 
which  we  began,  and  were  ordered  not  to  pursue.  In  the  dialogue 
of  Fruits,  we  perceived  that  Holbrook  did  not  know  the  meaning 
of  Uv&  CrispcB x.  That  lesson  gave  us  great  trouble.  I  observed 
that  we  learned  Helvicus  a  long  time  with  very  little  progress. 
We  learned  it  in  the  afternoon  on  Monday  and  Wednesday. 

Gladiolus  Scriptorius. — A  little  lapse2,  we  quitted  it.  I  got 
an  English  Erasmus. 

In  Phaedrus  we  tried  to  use  the  interpretation,  but  never 
attempted  the  notes.  Nor  do  I  remember  that  the  interpreta 
tion  helped  us. 

In  Phaedrus  we  were  sent  up  twice  to  the  upper  master  to  be 
punished.  The  second  time  wre  complained  that  we  could  not 
get  the  passage.  Being  told  that  we  should  ask,  we  informed 
him  that  we  had  asked,  and  that  the  assistant  would  not  tell  us. 

1  In  the  British  Museum  there  are      copy  of  Gladiolus  Scriptorius. 
some  of  Helvicus's  works,  but  not,  I          =  This  seems  an  unusual  expres- 
think,  this  one.     Neither  is  there  a      sion. 


ANECDOTES 

OF   THE    LATE 

SAMUEL    JOHNSON 

LL.D. 
DURING  THE  LAST  TWENTY  YEARS  OF  HIS  LIFE 

BY 

HESTHER   LYNCH   PIOZZI 


[The  Fourth  Edition.     LONDON  :  Printed  for  T.  CADELL 
in  the  Strand.     M  DCC  LXXXVI] 


PIOZZFS   ANECDOTES 


[MRS.  PlOZZl  writing  in  1815,  says: — 'At  Rome  we  received 
letters  saying  the  book  was  bought  with  such  avidity,  that 
Cadell  hadnot  one  copy  left  when  the  King  sent  for  it  at  ten 
o'clock  at  night,  and  he  was  forced  to  beg  one  from  a  friend  to 
supply  his  Majesty's  impatience,  who  sate  up  all  night  reading  it. 
I  received  £300,  a  sum  unexampled  in  those  days  for  so  small 
a  volume.'  Hayward's  Piozzi,  ed.  1861,  ii.  305. 

Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  March  28,  1786  (Letters,  ix.  46) : — 
'Two  days  ago  appeared  Madame  Piozzi's  Anecdotes  of  Dr. 
Johnson.  I  am  lamentably  disappointed — in  her,  I  mean ;  not 
in  him.  I  had  conceived  a  favourable  opinion  of  her  capacity. 
But  this  new  book  is  wretched  ;  a  high-varnished  preface  to 
a  heap  of  rubbish,  in  a  very  vulgar  style,  and  too  void  of 
method  even  for  such  a  farrago.'  On  April  30  he  wrote: — 
'As  she  must  have  heard  that  the  whole  first  impression  was 
sold  the  first  day,  no  doubt  she  expects,  on  her  landing,  to 
be  received  like  the  Governor  of  Gibraltar  [after  the  siege],  and 
to  find  the  road  strewed  with  branches  of  palm.  She,  and 
Boswell,  and  their  Hero  are  the  joke  of  the  public.'  Ib.  p.  49. 

According  to  the  Gentleman  s  Magazine  for  March,  1786, 
p.  244 : — '  On  the  third  morning  after  the  book  was  published 
not  a  copy  of  it  could  be  obtained.'  At  least  four  editions  were 
issued  in  the  first  year  of  publication. 

Hannah  More  wrote  in  April,  1786  : — '  The  Bozzi  &c.  subjects 
are  not  yet  exhausted  though  everybody  seems  heartily  sick  of 
them.  Everybody,  however,  conspires  not  to  let  them  drop. 
That,  and  the  Cagliostro  and  the  Cardinal's  Necklace  spoil  all 
conversation ;  and  destroyed  a  very  good  evening  at  Mr.  Pepys's 
last  night.'  H.  More's  Memoirs,  ii.  16.  For  the  Cagliostro  and 
the  Cardinal's  Necklace  see  Carlyle's  Essays. 

Malone  says  of  these  Anecdotes :— '  On  the  whole  the  public 
is  indebted  to  her  for  her  lively,  though  very  inaccurate  and 
artful  account  of  Dr.  Johnson.'  Prior's  Malone,  p.  364.] 


PREFACE 


I  HAVE  somewhere  heard  or  read,  that  the  Preface  before  a  book, 
like  the  portico  before  a  house,  should  be  contrived,  so  as  to 
catch,  but  not  detain  the  attention  of  those  who  desire  admission 
to  the  family  within,  or  leave  to  look  over  the  collection  of 
pictures  made  by  one  whose  opportunities  of  obtaining  them 
we  know  to  have  been  not  unfrequent.  I  wish  not  to  keep 
my  readers  long  from  such  intimacy  with  the  manners  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  or  such  knowledge  of  his  sentiments  as  these  pages 
can  convey.  To  urge  my  distance  from  England  as  an  excuse 
for  the  book's  being  ill  written,  would  be  ridiculous ;  it  might 
indeed  serve  as  a  just  reason  for  my  having  written  it  at  all ; 
because,  though  others  may  print  the  same  aphorisms  and 
stories,  I  cannot  here  be  sure  that  they  have  done  so.  As  the 
Duke  says  however  to  the  Weaver,  in  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,  '  Never  excuse ;  if  your  play  be  a  bad  one,  keep  at 
least  the  excuses  to  yourself1.' 

I  am  aware  that  many  will  say,  I  have  not  spoken  highly 
enough  of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  but  it  will  be  difficult  for  those  who  say 
so,  to  speak  more  highly,  If  I  have  described  his  manners  as 
they  were,  I  have  been  careful  to  shew  his  superiority  to  the 
common  forms  of  common  life.  It  is  surely  no  dispraise  to  an 
oak  that  it  does  not  bear  jessamine ;  and  he  who  should  plant 
honeysuckle  round  Trajan's  column,  would  not  be  thought  to 
adorn,  but  to  disgrace  it. 

When  I  have  said,  that  he  was  more  a  man  of  genius  than  of 
learning,  I  mean  not  to  take  from  the  one  part  of  his  character 
that  which  I  willingly  give  to  the  other.  The  erudition  of 
Mr.  Johnson  proved  his  genius  ;  for  he  had  not  acquired  it  by 
long  or  profound  study:  nor  can  I  think  those  characters  the 
greatest  which  have  most  learning  driven  into  their  heads,  any 

1  '  Never  excuse  ;  for  when  the  players  are  all  dead  there  need  none  to  be 
blamed.'  Act  v,  sc.  I,  1.  363. 

more 


Preface. 


more  than  I  can  persuade  myself  to  consider  the  river  Jenisca x 
as  superior  to  the  Nile,  because  the  first  receives  near  seventy 
tributary  streams  in  the  course  of  its  unmarked  progress  to  the 
sea,  while  the  great  parent  of  African  plenty,  flowing  from  an 
almost  invisible  source,  and  unenriched  by  any  extraneous  waters, 
except  eleven  nameless  rivers 2,  pours  his  majestic  torrent  into 
the  ocean  by  seven  celebrated  mouths. 

But  I  must  conclude  my  Preface,  and  begin  my  book,  the  first 
I  ever  presented  before  the  Public ;  from  whose  awful  appear 
ance  in  some  measure  to  defend  and  conceal  myself,  I  have 
thought  fit  to  retire  behind  the  Telamonian  shield 3,  and  shew  as 
little  of  myself  as  possible ;  well  aware  of  the  exceeding  differ 
ence  there  is,  between  fencing  in  the  school  and  fighting  in  the 

field. Studious  however  to  avoid  offending,  and  careless  of 

that  offence  which  can  be  taken  without  a  cause,  I  here  not 
unwillingly  submit  my  slight  performance  to  the  decision  of 
that  glorious  country,  which  I  have  the  daily  delight  to  hear 
applauded  in  others,  as  eminently  just,  generous,  and  humane. 


1  The  Yenisei.  In  Brookes's  Gazet 
teer  (1762)  it  is  called  the  Jenisa. 

2  Had  she  read  Johnson's  transla 
tion  of  Lobo's  Abyssinia  she  would 
not  have  made  so  absurd  a  state 
ment. 

3  In  this  short  Preface  Johnson  is 


an  oak,  Trajan's  column,  the  Nile, 
and  Ajax  Telamonius.  Mrs.  Piozzi 
herself  is  the  archer  who  retires 
behind  his  comrade's  shield,  because 
fencing  in  the  school  is  so  different 
from  fighting  in  the  field. 


VOL.  I. 


A NECDOTES 


TOO  much  intelligence  is  often  as  pernicious  to  Biography  as 
too  little ;  the  mind  remains  perplexed  by  contradiction  of 
probabilities,  and  finds  difficulty  in  separating  report  from  truth. 
If  Johnson  then  lamented  that  so  little  had  ever  been  said  about 
Butler  *,  I  might  with  more  reason  be  led  to  complain  that  so 
much  has  been  said  about  himself;  for  numberless  informers  but 
distract  or  cloud  information,  as  glasses  which  multiply  will  for 
the  most  part  be  found  also  to  obscure.  Of  a  life  too,  which 
for  the  last  twenty  years  was  passed  in  the  very  front  of 
literature,  every  leader  of  a  literary  company,  whether  officer 
or  subaltern,  naturally  becomes  either  author  or  critic,  so  that 
little  less  than  the  recollection  that  it  was  once  the  request  of 
the  deceased 2,  and  twice  the  desire  of  those  whose  will  I  ever 
delighted  to  comply  with,  should  have  engaged  me  to  add  my 
little  book  to  the  number  of  those  already  written  on  the  subject. 
I  used  to  urge  another  reason  for  forbearance,  and  say,  that  all 
the  readers  would,  on  this  singular  occasion,  be  the  writers  of 
his  life :  like  the  first  representation  of  the  Masque  of  Comus, 
which,  by  changing  their  characters  from  spectators  to  per 
formers,  was  acted  by  the  lords  and  ladies  it  was  written  to 
entertain 3.  This  objection  is  however  now  at  an  end,  as  I  have 

1 ' '  In  the  midst  of  obscurity  passed  can  be  told  with  certainty  is  that  he 

the  life  of  Butler,  a  man  whose  name  was  poor.'      Johnson's    Works,  vii. 

can  only  perish  with  his  language.  148. 

The  mode  and  place  of  his  education  2  See/^j-/,  p.  166. 

are  unknown,  the  events  of  his  life  3  The  Earl  of  Bridgewater's  sons 

are  variously  related ;    and  all  that  and   daughter.    As  she  was  '  about 

L  2,                                          found 


148  Anecdotes. 


found  friends,  far  remote  indeed  from  literary  questions,  who 
may  yet  be  diverted  from  melancholy  by  my  description  of 
Johnson's  manners,  warmed  to  virtue  even  by  the  distant  re 
flexion  of  his  glowing  excellence,  and  encouraged  by  the  relation 
of  his  animated  zeal  to  persist  in  the  profession  as  well  as 
V  practice  of  Christianity. 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON  was  the  son  of  Michael  Johnson,  a  book 
seller  at  Litchfield,  in  Staffordshire  ;  a  very  pious  and  worthy 
man,  but  wrong-headed,  positive,  and  afflicted  with  melancholy, 
as  his  son,  from  whom  alone  I  had  the  information,  once  told 
me :  his  business,  however,  leading  him  to  be  much  on  horseback, 
contributed  to  the  preservation  of  his  bodily  health,  and  mental 
sanity x ;  which,  when  he  staid  long  at  home,  would  sometimes 
be  about  to  give  way ;  and  Mr.  Johnson  said,  that  when  his 
work-shop,  a  detached  building,  had  fallen  half  down  for  want 
of  money  to  repair  it,  his  father  was  not  less  diligent  to  lock  the 
door  every  night,  though  he  saw  that  any  body  might  walk  in  at 
the  back  part,  and  knew  that  there  was  no  security  obtained 
by  barring  the  front  door.  '  This  (says  his  son)  was  madness, 
you  may  see,  and  would  have  been  discoverable  in  other 
instances  of  the  prevalence  of  imagination,  but  that  poverty 
prevented  it  from  playing  such  tricks  as  riches  and  leisure 
encourage.'  Michael  was  a  man  of  still  larger  size  and  greater 
strength  than  his  son  ;  who  was  reckoned  very  like  him  2,  but 
did  not  delight  in  talking  much  of  his  family — '  one  has  (says 
he)  so  little  pleasure  in  reciting  the  anecdotes  of  beggary  V  One 
day,  however,  hearing  me  praise  a  favourite  friend  with  partial 
tenderness  as  well  as  true  esteem  ;  '  Why  do  you  like  that  man's 
acquaintance  so?'  said  he:  Because,  replied  I,  he  is  open  and 
confiding,  and  tells  me  stories  of  his  uncles  and  cousins  ;  I  love 
the  light  parts  of  a  solid  character.  '  Nay,  if  you  are  for  family 
history  (says  Mr.  Johnson  good-humouredly)  /  can  fit  you: 

thirteen  years  of  age  and  her  two      written  to  entertain.' 

brothers   were  still  younger,'    it    is          I  Life,  i.  35,  and  ante,  p.  132. 

absurd    to    describe    them   (even  if         2  His  likeness  is  given  in  Murray's 

there  had  been  more  than  one  lady)      Johnsoniana,  ed.  1836,  p.  464. 

as    '  the    lords    and    ladies    it   was          3  Ante,  p.  132. 

I  had 


Anecdotes. 


149 


I  had  an  uncle,  Cornelius  Ford,  who,  upon  a  journey,  stopped  and 
read  an  inscription  written  on  a  stone  he  saw  standing  by  the 
way-side,  set  up,  as  it  proved,  in  honour  of  a  man  who  had 
leaped  a  certain  leap  thereabouts,  the  extent  of  which  was 
specified  upon  the  stone  :  Why  now,  says  my  uncle,  I  could  leap 
it  in  my  boots ;  and  he  did  leap  it  in  his  boots.  I  had  likewise 
another  uncle,  Andrew,'  continued  he,  '  my  father's  brother,  who 
kept  the  ring  in  Smithfield  (where  they  wrestled  and  boxed)  for 
a  whole  year1,  and  never  was  thrown  or  conquered.  Here  now 
are  uncles  for  you,  Mistress 2,  if  that's  the  way  to  your  heart.' 
Mr.  Johnson  was  very  conversant  in  the  art  of  attack  and 
defence  by  boxing,  which  science  he  had  learned  from  his  uncle 
Andrew,  I  believe ;  and  I  have  heard  him  descant  upon  the  age 
when  people  were  received,  and  when  rejected,  in  the  schools 
once  held  for  that  brutal  amusement,  much  to  the  admiration 
of  those  who  had  no  expectation  of  his  skill  in  such  matters 3, 
from  the  sight  of  a  figure  which  precluded  all  possibility  of 
personal  prowess 4 ;  though,  because  he  saw  Mr.  Thrale  one  day 


1  By  '  kept  the  ring '  Johnson,  no 
doubt,  meant   'held   it   against    all 
comers.'   Smithfield  had  fallen  in  dig 
nity  from  the  days  when  Richard  II 
charged  heralds  '  to  publish  in  Eng 
land,  Scotland,  Germany,  Flanders, 
Brabant,  Hainault  and  France  that 
a  great  joust  should  be  held  in  it  on 
the   Sunday  after  the   Feast  of  St. 
Michael,  which  day  was  called  "  the 
Sunday  of  the  Feast  of  Challenge."  ' 
Froissart's  Chronicles,  ed.  1816,  iv. 
170. 

2  '  He  used  to  mention  Mrs.  Thrale 
by  the  epithets  Madam  or  my  Mis 
tress'    Life,  i.  494. 

3  '  I  am  sorry,'  he  said, '  that  prize 
fighting    is    gone    out ;     every    art 
should  be  preserved,  and  the  art  of 
defence  is  surely  important.'    Ib.  v. 
229. 

Figg,  the  prize  fighter,  told  Chet- 
wood  that  he  had  not  bought  a  shirt 
for  more  than  twenty  years.  When 
he  fought  he  sent  round  to  a  select 


number  of  his  scholars  to  borrow  one 
for  the  combat,  and  seldom  failed  of 
half  a  dozen  from  his  prime  pupils — 
of  the  nobility  and  young  gentry:  each 
one  thought  that  it  was  in  his  shirt 
the  battle  was  fought.  He  informed 
his  lenders  of  linen  of  the  chasms 
their  shirts  received,  and  promised 
to  send  them  home.  *  But/  said  he, 
*  I  seldom  received  any  other  an 
swer  than  "  Damn  you,  keep  it."  ' 
R.  W.  Chetwood,  General  History  of 
the  Stage,  1749,  p.  60. 

Figg  died  in  1734.  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1734,  p.  703.  See  ib. 
1731,  p.  172,  for  his  'amphitheatre.' 

4  *  Johnson  told  me  that  one  night 
he  was  attacked  in  the  street  by  four 
men,  to  whom  he  would  not  yield, 
but  kept  them  all  at  bay  till  the 
watch  came  up,  and  carried  both  him 
and  them  to  the  Roundhouse.'  Life, 
ii.  299. 

Bos  well  wrote  of  him  in  1773  : — 
'  Few  men  have  his  intrepidity,  Her- 

leap 


Anecdotes. 


leap  over  a  cabriolet  stool  r,  to  shew  that  he  was  not  tired  after 
a  chace  of  fifty  miles  or  more,  he  suddenly  jumped  over  it  too ; 
but  in  a  way  so  strange  and  so  unwieldy,  that  our  terror  lest 
he  should  break  his  bones,  took  from  us  even  the  power  of 
laughing. 

Michael  Johnson  was  past  fifty  years  old  when  he  married  his 
wife,  who  was  upwards  of  forty ;  yet  I  think  her  son  told  me  she 
remained  three  years  childless  before  he  was  born  into  the  world, 
who  so  greatly  contributed  to  improve  it.  In  three  years  more 
she  brought  another  son,  Nathaniel,  who  lived  to  be  twenty- 
seven  or  twenty-eight  years  old 2,  and  of  whose  manly  spirit 
I  have  heard  his  brother  speak  with  pride  and  pleasure,  mention 
ing  one  circumstance,  particular  enough,  that  when  the  company 
were  one  day  lamenting  the  badness  of  the  roads,  he  enquired 
where  they  could  be,  as  he  travelled  the  country  more  than  most 
people,  and  had  never  seen  a  bad  road  in  his  life3.  The  two 
brothers  did  not,  however,  much  delight  in  each  other's  com 
pany4,  being  always  rivals  for  the  mother's  fondness ;  and  many 


culean  strength,  or  presence  of  mind.' 
Ib.  v.  329.  Mrs.  Piozzi  says  (post, 
p.  224) : — ( He  had  possessed  an 
athletic  constitution.'  Perhaps  she  is 
now  speaking  of  his  state  near  the 
end  of  his  life. 

1  A  cabriolet  (cut  down  into  cab) 
was  a  late  invention;  the  first  instance 
of  its  use  in  the  New  Eng.  Diet,  being 
three  years  later  than  the  publication 
of  these  Anecdotes.   The  stool,  I  con 
jecture,  was  used  in  getting  into  it. 

2  Michael  Johnson  was    born    in 
1656,  his  wife   in  1669  ;    they  were 
married  in  1706.     Samuel  was  born 
in    1709,    and    Nathanael   in    1712. 
Nathanael  died  in  1737.    Life,  i.  35, 
n.  I ;  iv.  393,  n.  2.     The  father  was 
born  under  the  Commonwealth,  the 
son  lived  to  be  kept  waiting  for  his 
dinner  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  who 
was  afterwards  George  IV.     Ib.  iv. 
270,    n.   2.     Michael   was   eighteen 
years  old  when  Milton  died  ;  when 


Samuel  died  Wordsworth  was  four 
teen. 

3  Cave,  the  proprietor  of  the  Gentle- 
marts  Magazine,  in  the  latter  part  of 
his  life    travelled  a   great  deal  on 
business.     '  Time  being  more  an  ob 
ject  to  him  than  expense,  and  the 
luxury  of  turnpike  roads  being  then 
but  little  known,  [he  died  in  1754]  he 
generally  used  four  horses.'   Nichols's 
Lit.  Anec.  v.  43. 

For  Arthur  Young's  account  in 
1768  of  the  'detestable'  and  'in 
fernal'  roads  see  Life,  iii.  135,  n.  I. 
Of  the  bye-roads  in  Ireland  he  writes 
in  1780  :— '  They  are  the  finest  in  the 
world.'  Tour  in  Ireland,  ed.  1892, 
i.  116.  In  1787  he  writes  : — '  If  the 
French  have  not  husbandry  to  shew 
us,  they  have  roads.'  Travels  in 
France,  ed.  1890,  p.  7. 

4  Nathanael  complained  that   his 
brother  *  scarcely  used  him  with  com 
mon  civility.3    Life,  i.  90,  n.  3. 

of 


Anecdotes. 


of  the  severe  reflections  on  domestic  life  in  Rasselas,  took  their 
source  from  its  author's  keen  recollections  of  the  time  passed  in 
his  early  years x.  Their  father  Michael  died  of  an  inflammatory 
fever,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six 2,  as  Mr.  Johnson  told  me :  their 
mother  at  eighty-nine,  of  a  gradual  decay.  She  was  slight  in 
her  person,  he  said,  and  rather  below  than  above  the  common 
size.  So  excellent  was  her  character,  and  so  blameless  her  life, 
that  when  an  oppressive  neighbour  once  endeavoured  to  take 
from  her  a  little  field  she  possessed,  he  could  persuade  no 
attorney  to  undertake  the  cause  against  a  woman  so  beloved  in 
her  narrow  circle3:  and  it  is  this  incident  he  alludes  to  in  the 
line  of  his  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,  calling  her 

The  general  favourite  as  the  general  friend. 

Nor  could  any  one  pay  more  willing  homage  to  such  a  character, 
though  she  had  not  been  related  to  him,  than  did  Dr.  Johnson 
on  every  occasion  that  offered  :  his  disquisition  on  Pope's  epitaph 
placed  over  Mrs.  Corbet,  is  a  proof  of  that  preference  always 
given  by  him  to  a  noiseless  life  over  a  bustling  one4;  for  however 

No  conquest  she  but  o'er  herself 

desir'd  ; 
No  arts  essay'd,  but  not  to  be 

admir'd. 
Passion  and  pride  were  to  her  soul 

unknown, 
Convinc'd  that  virtue  only  is  our 

own. 
So   unaffected,  so    compos'd  a 

mind, 
So  firm,  yet  soft,  so  strong,  yet 

so  refin'd, 
Heav'n    as   its   purest  gold  by 

tortures  try'd ; 
The  saint  sustain'd   it,  but  the 

woman  dy'd.' 

Johnson,  in  his  criticism  on  this 
epitaph,  says  : — '  Domestick  virtue, 
as  it  is  exerted  without  great  occa 
sions  or  conspicuous  consequences, 
in  an  even  unnoted  tenour,  required 
the  genius  of  Pope  to  display  it  in 
such  a  manner  as  might  attract  re 
gard  and  enforce  reverence.'  Works, 
viii.  354. 

taste 


1  'Domestick  discord,'  answered 
the  princess,  *  is  not  inevitably  and 
fatally  necessary;  but  yet  it  is  not 
easily  avoided.  We  seldom  see  that  a 
whole  family  is  virtuous:  the  good 
and  evil  cannot  well  agree  :  and  the 
evil  can  yet    less   agree  with  one 
another  :  even  the  virtuous  fall  some 
times  to  variance,  when  their  virtues 
are  of  different  kinds  and  tending  to 
extremes.'    Rasselas,  ch.  xxvi. 

Admiring  the  harmony  in  the  Bur- 
ney  family,  Johnson  wrote  : — '  Of  this 
consanguineous  unanimity  I  have 
had  never  much  experience ;  but 
it  appears  to  me  one  of  the  great 
lenitives  of  life.'  Letters,  ii.  237. 

2  He  was  seventy-five. 

3  Nevertheless  Johnson  never  had 
a  good  word  for  an  attorney.    Life, 
ii.  126,  «.  4. 

4  '  Here  rests  a  woman,  good  with 

out  pretence, 

Blest  with  plain  reason  and  with 
sober  sense : 


152 


Anecdotes. 


taste  begins,  we  almost  always  see  that  it  ends  in  simplicity; 
the  glutton  finishes  by  losing  his  relish  for  any  thing  highly 
sauced,  and  calls  for  his  boiled  chicken  at  the  close  of  many 
years  spent  in  the  search  of  dainties  ;  the  connoisseurs  are  soon 
weary  of  Rubens x,  and  the  critics  of  Lucan 2 ;  and  the  refine 
ments  of  every  kind  heaped  upon  civil  life,  always  sicken  their 
possessors  before  the  close  of  it. 

At  the  age  of  two  years  Mr.  Johnson  was  brought  up  to 
London  by  his  mother,  to  be  touched  by  Queen  Anne  for  the 
scrophulous  evil,  which  terribly  afflicted  his  childhood,  and  left 
such  marks  as  greatly  disfigured  a  countenance  naturally  harsh 
and  rugged,  beside  doing  irreparable  damage  to  the  auricular 
organs,  which  never  could  perform  their  functions  since  I  knew 
him ;  and  it  was  owing  to  that  horrible  disorder,  too,  that  one 
eye  was  perfectly  useless  to  him  ;  that  defect,  however,  was  not 
observable,  the  eyes  looked  both  alike.  As  Mr.  Johnson  had  an 
astonishing  memory,  I  asked  him,  if  he  could  remember  Queen 
Anne  at  all  ?  '  He  had  (he  said)  a  confused,  but  somehow  a  sort 
of  solemn  recollection  of  a  lady  in  diamonds,  and  a  long  black 
hood3.' 

The  christening  of  his  brother  he  remembered  with  all  its 
circumstances,  and  said,  his  mother  taught  him  to  spell  and 
pronounce  the  words  little  Natty,  syllable  by  syllable,  making 
him  say  it  over  in  the  evening  to  her  husband  and  his  guests. 
The  trick  which  most  parents  play  with  their  children,  of  shewing 
off  their  newly-acquired  accomplishments,  disgusted  Mr.  Johnson 
beyond  expression  ;  he  had  been  treated  so  himself,  he  said,  till 

1  Sir    Joshua    Reynolds,    writing  approving  nothing  but  what  comes 

four  years  earlier  than  Mrs.  Piozzi,  from  the  Italian  school.' 

thus  finishes  }\\s  Journey  to  Flanders  2  'Mrs.   Thrale's   learning,'    said 

and  Holland'. — '  To  conclude,  I  will  Johnson,  '  is  that  of  a  school- boy  in 

repeat    in    favour  of  Rubens,  what  one  of  the  lower  forms.'    Life,  i.  494. 

I  have  before  said  in  regard  to  the  The  judgement  passed  by  the  critics 

Dutch  school, — that  those  who  can-  on   Lucan  she  had    perhaps  learnt 

not  see  the  extraordinary  merit  of  this  from    Addison    in    the    Guardian, 

great  painter  either  have  a  narrow  Nos.  115,  119. 

conception  of  the  variety  of  art,  or  3  Quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  43. 
are  led  away  by  the  affectation  of 

he 


Anecdotes. 


he  absolutely  loathed  his  father's  caresses,  because  he  knew  they 
were  sure  to  precede  some  unpleasing  display  of  his  early  abilities  ; 
and  he  used,  when  neighbours  came  o'visiting,  to  run  up  a  tree 
that  he  might  not  be  found  and  exhibited,  such,  as  no  doubt  he 
was,  a  prodigy  of  early  understanding.  His  epitaph  upon  the 
duck  he  killed  by  treading  on  it  at  five  years  old, 

Here  lies  poor  duck 

That  Samuel  Johnson  trod  on ; 
If  it  had  liv'd  it  had  been  good  luck, 

For  it  would  have  been  an  odd  one; 

is  a  striking  example  of  early  expansion  of  mind,  and  knowledge 
of  language x ;  yet  he  always  seemed  more  mortified  at  the  recol 
lection  of  the  bustle  2  his  parents  made  with  his  wit,  than  pleased 
with  the  thoughts  of  possessing  it.  *  That  (said  he  to  me  one 
day)  is  the  great  misery  of  late  marriages 3,  the  unhappy  produce 
of  them  becomes  the  plaything  of  dotage :  an  old  man's  child 


1  Boswell  made  the  following  re 
cord  in  his  note-book : — '  Miss  Por 
ter  told  me  in  Johnson's  presence 
at  Litch field,  Monday,  25  March, 
1776,  that  his  mother  told  her, 
that  when  he  was  in  petticoats  he 
was  walking  by  his  father's  side  & 
carelessly  trode  upon  a  duck,  one  of 
thirteen,  &  killed  it.  So  then  this 
duck,  it  was  said  to  him,  must  be 
buried,  &  he  must  make  an  epitaph 
for  it.  Upon  which  he  made  these 
lines  : — 

"  Under  this  stone  lyes  Mr.  Duck, 
Whom  Samuel  Johnson  trode  on; 

He  might  have  liv'd  if  he  had  luck, 
But  then  he'd  been  an  odd  one." 

Dr.  Johnson  said  that  his  father 
made  one  half  of  this  epitaph.  That 
he  was  a  foolish  old  man,  that  is  to 
say  was  foolish  in  talking  of  his 
children.  But  I  trust  to  his  mother's 
relation  of  what  happened  in  his  child 
hood  rather  than  to  his  own  recollec 
tion  ;  and  Miss  Porter  assured  him, 
in  my  presence,  upon  his  mother's 
authority,  that  he  had  made  this 


epitaph  himself.  But  he  assures  me, 
21  Sept.,  1777,  that  he  remembers 
his  father  making  it.'  Morrison 
Autographs,  second  series,  i.  367. 
See  Life,  i.  40. 

Horace  Walpole,  with  the  words 
'expansion  of  mind'  in  view, 
writes  : — '  The  Signora  talks  of  her 
Doctor's  expanded  mind,  and  has 
contributed  her  mite  to  show  that 
never  mind  was  narrower.'  Wai- 
pole's  Letters,  ix.  48. 

2  Bustle  was  a  favourite  word  of 
Johnson's.      See  Letters,  i.  196;  ii. 
147,  164. 

In  his  last  note  on  Coriolanus  he 
says  : — '  There  is  perhaps  too  much 
bustle  in  the  first  act  and  too  little  in 
the  last.'  Reynolds  perhaps  caught 
the  word  from  him,  when  he  write 
of  one  of  Rubens's  pictures  : — '  The 
bustle,  which  is  in  every  part  of  the 
picture,  makes  a  fine  contrast  to  the 
character  of  resignation  in  the  cruci 
fied  Saviour.'  Reynolds's  Works, 
ed.  1824,  ii.  216. 

3  Life,  ii.  128. 

(continued 


154  Anecdotes. 


(continued  he)  leads  much  such  a  life,  I  think,  as  a  little  boy's 
dog,  teized  with  awkward  fondness,  and  forced,  perhaps,  to  sit  up 
and  beg,  as  we  call  it,  to  divert  a  company,  who  at  last  go  away 
complaining  of  their  disagreeable  entertainment.'  In  consequence 
of  these  maxims,  and  full  of  indignation  against  such  parents  as 
delight  to  produce  their  young  ones  early  into  the  talking  world, 
I  have  known  Mr.  Johnson  give  a  good  deal  of  pain,  by  refusing 
to  hear  the  verses  the  children  could  recite,  or  the  songs  they 
could  sing ;  particularly  one  friend  who  told  him  that  his  two 
sons  should  repeat  Gray's  Elegy  to  him  alternately,  that  he 
might  judge  who  had  the  happiest  cadence.  c  No,  pray  Sir  (said 
he),  let  the  dears  both  speak  it  at  once  ;  more  noise  will  by  that 
means  be  made,  and  the  noise  will  be  sooner  over.'  He  told  me 
the  story  himself,  but  I  have  forgot  who  the  father  was x. 

Mr.  Johnson's  mother  was  daughter  to  a  gentleman  in  the 
country,  such  as  there  were  many  of  in  those  days,  who  possessing, 
perhaps,  one  or  two  hundred  pounds  a  year  in  land,  lived  on  the 
profits,  and  sought  not  to  increase  their  income 2 :  she  was  there 
fore  inclined  to  think  higher  of  herself  than  of  her  husband, 
whose  conduct  in  money  matters  being  but  indifferent,  she  had 
a  trick  of  teizing  him  about  it,  and  was,  by  her  son's  account, 
very  importunate  with  regard  to  her  fears  of  spending  more  than 
they  could  afford,  though  she  never  arrived  at  knowing  how 
much  that  was 3 ;  a  fault  common,  as  he  said,  to  most  women 
who  pride  themselves  on  their  ceconomy.  They  did  not  how 
ever,  as  I  could  understand,  live  ill  together  on  the  whole :  *  my 
father  (says  he)  could  always  take  his  horse  and  ride  away  for 
orders  when  things  went  badly.'  The  lady's  maiden  name  was 
Ford ;  and  the  parson  who  sits  next  to  the  punch-bowl  in 
Hogarth's  Modern  Midnight  Conversation  was  her  brother's 
son.  This  Ford  was  a  man  who  chose  to  be  eminent  only  for 

1  Perhaps  Bennet  Langton,  who,  Life,  i.  35.     (Boswell's  use  of  yeo- 
it  was  said,  would  make  his  son  re-  manry  is  incorrect  ;  he  should  have 
peat  the  Hebrew  alphabet  to  a  guest.  said  yeomen.}      Johnson    describes 
Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary,  ii.  260.  her   as   '  Antiqua   Fordorum    gente 

2  '  She  was  descended  of  an  an-  oriunda.'    Ib.  iv.  393,  n.  2. 
cient  race  of  substantial  yeomanry.'  3  Ante,  p.  133. 

vice, 


Anecdotes.  155 


vice,  with  talents  that  might  have  made  him  conspicuous  in 
literature,  and  respectable  in  any  profession  he  could  have 
chosen:  his  cousin  has  mentioned  him  in  the  lives  of  Fenton 
and  of  Broome  * ;  and  when  he  spoke  of  him  to  me,  it  was 
always  with  tenderness,  praising  his  acquaintance  with  life  and 
manners,  and  recollecting  one  piece  of  advice  that  no  man  surely 
ever  followed  more  exactly :  '  Obtain  (says  Ford)  some  general 
principles  of  every  science  ;  he  who  can  talk  only  on  one  subject, 
or  act  only  in  one  department,  is  seldom  wanted,  and  perhaps 
never  wished  for ;  while  the  man  of  general  knowledge  can  often 
benefit,  and  always  please  V  He  used  to  relate,  however,  another 
story  less  to  the  credit  of  his  cousin's  penetration,  how  Ford  on 
some  occasion  said  to  him,  '  You  will  make  your  way  the  more 
easily  in  the  world,  I  see,  as  you  are  contented  to  dispute  no 
man's  claim  to  conversation  excellence ;  they  will,  therefore, 
more  willingly  allow  your  pretensions  as  a  writer.'  Can  one,  on 
such  an  occasion,  forbear  recollecting  the  predictions  of  Boileau's 
father,  when  streaking  the  head  of  the  young  satirist,  Ce  petit  bon 
homme  (says  he)  ria  \sic\  point  trop  d'esprit,  mais  il  ne  dira 
jamais  mat  de  personne 3.  Such  are  the  prognostics  formed  by 

1  In  the  Life  of  Fenton  he  de-  that  he  understands  the  art  of  war, 
scribes  Ford  as  '  a  clergyman  at  that  but  I  have  no  wish  to  make  war  upon 
time  [1723]  too  well  known,  whose  anybody.    The  world  is  full  of  wants, 
abilities,  instead  of  furnishing  con-  and  loves  only  those  who  can  satisfy 
vivial  merriment  to  the  voluptuous  them.     It  is  false   praise  to  say  of 
and  dissolute,   might  have  enabled  any  one  that  he  is  skilled  in  poetry, 
him  to  excel  among  the  virtuous  and  and  a  bad  sign  when  he  is  quoted 
the  wise.'     Works,  viii.  57.     '  At  his  solely    about    verses." '      Quarterly 
college  Broome  lived  for  some  time  Review,  No.  206,  p.  306.     See  Les 
in  the  same  chamber  with  the  well-  Pensees  de  Pascal,  i.  ix.  18. 

known  Ford.'   Ib.  p.  229.     See  Life,  3  '  II  fut  e*lev£  jusqu'a  1'age  de  sept 

i.  49 ;  iii.  348.     Broome  entered  St.  a  huit  ans  dans  la  maison  de  son 

John's  College,  Cambridge,  in  1708.  pere,  qui  parcourant  quelquefois  les 

In  the  Gent.  Mag.,  1731,  p.  354,  is  differens  caracteres   de   ses  enfans, 

recorded  the  death  on  August  22  of  et  surpris  de  1'extreme  douceur,  de 

1  The  Rev.  Mr.  Ford,  esteem'd  for  la  simplicite  meme  qu'il  croyait  re- 

his  polite,  agreeable  conversation.'  marquer  en  celui-ci,  disait  ordinaire- 

2  '  Paschal    had    before  enforced  ment  de  lui,  par  une  espece  d'opposiT 
the  same  maxim.     "  You  tell  me  that  tion  aux  autres,  que  c'etait  un  bon 
such  a  person  is  a  good  mathemati-  gar$on  qui  ne  dirait  jamais  mal  de 
cian,  but  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  personne!     CEuvres  de  Boileau,  ed. 
mathematics.    You  assert  of  another  1747,  i.  xxxiv. 

men 


156  Anecdotes. 


men  of  wit  and  sense,  as  these  two  certainly  were,  concerning 
the  future  character  and  conduct  of  those  for  whose  welfare  they 
were  honestly  and  deeply  concerned ;  and  so  late  do  those 
features  of  peculiarity  come  to  their  growth,  which  mark  a 
character  to  all  succeeding  generations. 

Dr.  Johnson  first  learned  to  read  of  his  mother  and  her  old 
maid  Catharine,  in  whose  lap  he  well  remembered  sitting  while 
she  explained  to  him  the  story  of  St.  George  and  the  Dragon. 
I  know  not  whether  this  is  the  proper  place  to  add,  that  such 
was  his  tenderness,  and  such  his  gratitude,  that  he  took  a  journey 
to  Litchfield  fifty-seven  years  afterwards  to  support  and  comfort 
her  in  her  last  illness  * ;  he  had  enquired  for  his  nurse,  and  she 
was  dead 2.  The  recollection  of  such  reading  as  had  delighted 
him  in  his  infancy,  made  him  always  persist  in  fancying  that  it 
was  the  only  reading  which  could  please  an  infant ;  and  he  used 
to  condemn  me  for  putting  Newbery's  books  into  their  hands  as 
too  trifling  to  engage  their  attention.  '  Babies  do  not  want  (said 
he)  to  hear  about  babies  ;  they  like  to  be  told  of  giants  and 
castles,  and  of  somewhat  which  can  stretch  and  stimulate  their 
little  minds.'  When  in  answer  I  would  urge  the  numerous 
editions  and  quick  sale  of  Tommy  Prudent  or  Goody  Two 
Shoes 3 :  f  Remember  always  (said  he)  that  the  parents  buy  the 

1  Mrs.  Piozzi  is  speaking  of  Cath-  many  little  books  for  children :  he 

erine  Chambers,  who  died  in  1767  called  himself  their  friend,  but  he  was 

(ante,  p.  45).    She  and  Johnson  were  the  friend  of  all  mankind.' 

of  the  same  age  ;   moreover  it  was  Johnson  at  Rochester  maintained 

not  till  'about  1724,'  when  he  was  'that  Jack  the  Giant-Killer,  Pari- 

fifteen  years  old,  that  she  came  to  senus    and   Parismenus,    and    The 

live  with  his  mother.     Ib.  Seven    Champions  of   Christendom 

8  Ante,  p.  130.  were  fitter  for  children   than    Mrs. 

3  «  The  author  of  Caleb  Williams  Barbauld  and  Mrs.  Trimmer.'    Life, 

[William  Godwin],  who  had  been  a  iv.  8. 

child's  publisher  himself,  had  always  Boswell  wrote  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the 

a  strong  persuasion  that  Goldsmith  first  volume  of  a  collection  of  Chap 

wrote  Goody  Two  Shoes'     Forster's  Books  which  he  bought  in  1763  :— 

Goldsmith,  i.  346.     Goldsmith  intro-  '  Having  when   a   Boy  been  much 

duces    Newbery    in    the     Vicar   of  entertained    with   Jack    the    Giant 

Wakefield,  ch.  xviii,  as  '  the  philan-  Killer,  I  went  to  the  Printing  office 

thropic    bookseller    in     St.    Paul's  in  Bow  Churchyard  and  bought  this 

Church-yard,  who    has   written    so  collection.     I   shall  certainly,   some 

books, 


Anecdotes.  157 


books,  and  that  the  children  never  read  them.'  Mrs.  Barbauld 
however  had  his  best  praise,  and  deserved  it ;  no  man  was 
more  struck  than  Mr.  Johnson  with  voluntary  descent  from 
possible  splendour  to  painful  duty x. 

At  eight  years  old  he  went  to  school,  for  his  health  would  not 
permit  him  to  be  sent  sooner 2 ;  and  at  the  age  of  ten  years  his 
mind  was  disturbed  by  scruples  of  infidelity,  which  preyed  upon 
his  spirits,  and  made  him  very  uneasy ;  the  more  so,  as  he 
revealed  his  uneasiness  to  no  one,  being  naturally  (as  he  said)  'of 
a  sullen  temper  and  reserved  disposition.'  He  searched,  however, 
diligently  but  fruitlessly,  for  evidences  of  the  truth  of  revelation  ; 
and  at  length  recollecting  a  book  he  had  once  seen  in  his  father's 
shop,  intitled,  De  Veritate  Religionis,  &c.  he  began  to  think 
himself  highly  culpable  for  neglecting  such  a  means  of  informa 
tion,  and  took  himself  severely  to  task  for  this  sin,  adding  many 
acts  of  voluntary,  and  to  others  unknown,  penance.  The  first 
opportunity  which  offered  (of  course)  he  seized  the  book  with 
avidity ;  but  on  examination,  not  finding  himself  scholar  enough 
to  peruse  its  contents,  set  his  heart  at  rest ;  and,  not  thinking  to 
enquire  whether  there  were  any  English  books  written  on  the 
subject,  followed  his  usual  amusements,  and  considered  his 

time  or  other,  write  a  little   Story  bery's  hardly  deigned  to  reach  them 

Book  in  the  style  of  these.     I  shall  off  an  old  exploded  corner  of  a  shelf, 

be  happy  to   succeed,  for  he   who  when  Mary  asked  for  them.     Mrs. 

pleases  children  will  be  remembered  Barbauld's  and  Mrs.  Trimmer's  non- 

by  men.'      Sale    Catalogue  of  the  sense  lay  in  piles  about.  .  .   Science 

Auchinleck  Library,  Sotheby  &  Co.,  has  succeeded  to  poetry  no  less  in 

June  23,  1893,  Lot  91.  the  little  walks  of  children  than  with 

1  'A  voluntary  descent  from  the  men.'     Lamb's  Letters^  ed.  1888,  i. 

dignity   of  science   is    perhaps   the  189. 

hardest  lesson  that  humility  can  2  By  the  spring  of  1719,  when  he 
teach.'  Johnson's  Works,  viii.  385.  was  nine  and  a  half,  he  had  been  in 
See  also  ib.  vii.  99,  1 10  for  '  a  kind  of  the  Grammar  School '  two  years  and 
humble  dignity  '  which  he  praises  in  perhaps  four  months.'  Ante,  p.  138. 
Milton.  For  his  abuse  of  Mrs.  Bar-  Before  he  went  to  this  school  he  had 
bauld  see  Life,  ii.  408.  been  under  Tom  Brown,  who  '  pub- 
Lamb  wrote  on  Oct.  23,  1802: —  lished  a  spelling-book  and  dedicated 
'  Mrs.  Barbauld's  stuff  has  ban-  it  to  the  Universe,'  and  earlier  still 
ished  all  the  old  classics  of  the  he  had  gone  to  Dame  Oliver's 
nursery ;  and  the  shopman  at  New-  school.  Life,  i.  43. 

conscience 


158  Anecdotes. 


conscience  as  lightened  of  a  crime.  He  redoubled  his  diligence 
to  learn  the  language  that  contained  the  information  he  most 
wished  for;  but  from  the  pain  which  guilt  had  given  him,  he 
now  began  to  deduce  the  soul's  immortality,  which  was  the 
point  that  belief  first  stopped  at ;  and  from  that  moment  re 
solving  to  be  a  Christian,  became  one  of  the  most  zealous  and 
pious  ones  our  nation  ever  produced  x.  When  he  had  told  me 
Ahis  odd  anecdote  of  his  childhood  ;  '  I  cannot  imagine  (said  he) 
/  what  makes  me  talk  of  myself  to  you  so,  for  I  really  never 
I  mentioned  this  foolish  story  to  any  body  except  Dr.  Taylor,  not 
\ ,  even  to  my  dear  dear  Bathurst,  whom  I  loved  better  than  ever 
1  loved  any  human  creature  ;  but  poor  Bathurst  is  dead  ! ! ! 2 ' — 
Here  a  long  pause  and  a  few  tears  ensued.  Why  Sir,  said  I, 
how  like  is  all  this  to  Jean  Jaques  Rousseau ! 3  as  like,  I  mean, 
as  the  sensations  of  frost  and  fire,  when  my  child  complained 
yesterday  that  the  ice  she  was  eating  burned  her  mouth. 
Mr.  Johnson  laughed  at  the  incongruous  ideas ;  but  the  first 
thing  which  presented  itself  to  the  mind  of  an  ingenious  and 
learned  friend  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  to  pass  some  time  with 
here  at  Florence,  was  the  same  resemblance,  though  I  think  the 
two  characters  had  little  in  common,  further  than  an  early 
attention  to  things  beyond  the  capacity  of  other  babies,  a  keen 
sensibility  of  right  and  wrong,  and  a  warmth  of  imagination 
little  consistent  with  sound  and  perfect  health.  I  have  heard 
him  relate  another  odd  thing  of  himself  too,  but  it  is  one  which 
every  body  has  heard  as  well  as  I :  how,  when  he  was  about  nine 
years  old,  having  got  the  play  of  Hamlet  in  his  hand,  and  reading 
it  quietly  in  his  father's  kitchen,  he  kept  on  steadily  enough,  till 
coming  to  the  Ghost  scene,  he  suddenly  hurried  up  stairs  to  the 
street  door  that  he  might  see  people  about  him 4 :  such  an 
incident,  as  he  was  not  unwilling  to  relate  it,  is  probably  in 

1  For  Boswell's   criticism  of  'this  4  He    told    Boswell  also  of   this 
strange  fantastical  account '  see  Life,       terror  that  came  upon   him.     Life^ 
i.  68,  «.  3.                                                      i.  70.     In  his  Observations  on  Mac- 

The   book    entitled    De    Veritate  beth  he    says : — '  He    that    peruses 

Religionis  was,  no  doubt,  Grotius's  Shakespeare   looks  round  alarmed, 

work.  and   starts  to   find    himself  alone.' 

2  Ante,  p.  29.  Works,  v.  71. 

3  In  his  Confessions. 

every 


Anecdotes.  159 


every  one's  possession  now ;  he  told  it  as  a  testimony  to  the 
merits  of  Shakespeare  :  but  one  day  when  my  son  was  going  to 
school,  and  dear  Dr.  Johnson  followed  as  far  as  the  garden  gate, 
praying  for  his  salvation x,  in  a  voice  which  those  who  listened 
attentively  could  hear  plain  enough,  he  said  to  me  suddenly, 
'  Make  your  boy  tell  you  his  dreams :  the  first  corruption  that 
entered  into  my  heart  was  communicated  in  a  dream.'  What 
was  it,  Sir?  said  I.  'Do  not  ask  me/  replied  he  with  much 
violence,  and  walked  away  in  apparent  agitation.  I  never  durst 
make  any  further  enquiries.  He  retained  a  strong  aversion  for 
the  memory  of  Hunter,  one  of  his  schoolmasters,  who,  he  said 
once,  was  a  brutal  fellow :  £  so  brutal  (added  he),  that  no  man 
who  had  been  educated  by  him  ever  sent  his  son  to  the  same 
school.'  I  have  however  heard  him  acknowledge  his  scholarship 
to  be  very  great 2.  His  next  master  he  despised,  as  knowing  less 
than  himself,  I  found ;  but  the  name  of  that  gentleman  has 
slipped  my  memory  3.  Mr.  Johnson  was  himself  exceedingly 
disposed  to  the  general  indulgence  of  children,  and  was  even 
scrupulously  and  ceremoniously  attentive  not  to  offend  them 4 : 
he  had  strongly  persuaded  himself  of  the  difficulty  people  always 
find  to  erase  early  impressions  either  of  kindness  or  resentment, 
and  said, '  he  should  never  have  so  loved  his  mother  when  a  man, 
had  she  not  given  him  coffee s  she  could  ill  afford,  to  gratify  his 
appetite  when  a  boy.'  If  you  had  had  children  Sir,  said  I,  would 
you  have  taught  them  any  thing?  'I  hope  (replied  he),  that 
I  should  have  willingly  lived  on  bread  and  water  to  obtain 

1  For  Johnson's  love  for  the  boy,  a  very  able  man,  but  an  idle  man, 
who  died  early,  see  Life,  ii.  468,  and  and  to   me  very  severe.  .  .  .    Yet 
Letters,  i.  383.  he  taught  me  a  great  deal.'     Life, 

2  Johnson  said  of  him  : — 'Abating  i.  50. 

his   brutality  he  was   a  very  good  4  Boswell     mentions     '  Johnson's 

master.'    Life,  ii.  146.     See  also  ib.  love  of  little  children,  which  he  dis- 

i.  44.  covered  upon  all  occasions,  calling 

3  Wentworth,    master    of    Stour-  them   "pretty    dears"    and    giving 
bridge  school.     According  to  Haw-  them  sweetmeats.'    Ib.  iv.  126. 
kins  (p.  9)  his  real-name  was  Wink-  5  In  the  list  of  prices  given  in  the 
worth,  'but  affecting  to  be  thought  early  numbers   of  the  Gentleman's 
allied   to  the   Strafford    family,    he  Magazine,  though  six  or  seven  quali- 
assumed  the  name  of  Wentworth.'  ties  of  tea  are  included,  I  can  find  no 
Johnson  told  Boswell  that  '  he  was  mention  of  coffee. 

instruction 


160  Anecdotes. 


instruction  for  them  ;  but  I  would  not  have  set  their  future 
friendship  to  hazard  for  the  sake  of  thrusting  into  their  heads 
knowledge  of  things  for  which  they  might  not  perhaps  have 
either  taste  or  necessity.  You  teach  your  daughters  the  dia 
meters  of  the  planets,  and  wonder  when  you  have  done  that  they 
do  not  delight  in  your  company.  No  science  can  be  communi 
cated  by  mortal  creatures  without  attention  from  the  scholar; 
no  attention  can  be  obtained  from  children  without  the  infliction 
of  pain x,  and  pain  is  never  remembered  without  resentment.' 
That  something  should  be  learned,  was  however  so  certainly  his 
opinion,  that  I  have  heard  him  say,  how  education  had  been  often 
compared  to  agriculture,  yet  that  it  resembled  it  chiefly  in  this : 
'  that  if  nothing  is  sown,  no  crop  (says  he)  can  be  obtained.'  His 
contempt  of  the  lady  who  fancied  her  son  could  be  eminent 
without  study,  because  Shakespeare  was  found  wanting  in 
scholastic  learning,  was  expressed  in  terms  so  gross  and  so 
well  known,  I  will  not  repeat  them  here. 

To  recollect,  however,  and  to  repeat  the  sayings  of  Dr.  John 
son,  is  almost  all  that  can  be  done  by  the  writers  of  his  life ;  as 
his  life,  at  least  since  my  acquaintance  with  him,  consisted  in 
little  else  than  talking,  when  he  was  not  absolutely  employed  in 
some  serious  piece  of  work ;  and  whatever  work  he  did,  seemed 
so  much  below  his  powers  of  performance,  that  he  appeared  the 
idlest  of  all  human  beings  ;  ever  musing  till  he  was  called  out  to 
converse,  and  conversing  till  the  fatigue  of  his  friends,  or  the 
promptitude  of  his  own  temper  to  take  offence,  consigned  him 
back  again  to  silent  meditation 2. 

1  '  Johnson  upon  all  occasions  ex-  a  book  from  the  shelves  '  and  began, 
pressed  his  approbation  of  enforcing  without  further  ceremony,  to  read  to 
instruction   by  means  of   the  rod.'  himself,  all  the  time  standing  at  a 
Life,  i.  46.  distance  from   the   company.      We 

2  Most  of  this  paragraph  is  quoted  were  all  very  much  provoked,  as  we 
in  the  Life,  iv.  343,  346.  perfectly  languished    to    hear    him 

For  his  musing  see  ib.  v.  73  and  talk ;  but  it  seems  he  is  the  most 
Letters,  i.  359,  n.  2,  388,  n.  2,  and  silent  creature,  when  not  particularly 
Piozzi's  Anecdotes,  p.  208.  drawn  out,  in  the  world.'  Early 

Miss  Burney  describes  how  at  a       Diary  of  F.  Burney,  ii.  156. 
party  at  her  father's  house  he  took 

The 


Anecdotes. 


161 


The  remembrance  of  what  had  passed  in  his  own  childhood, 
made  Mr.  Johnson  very  solicitous  to  preserve  the  felicity  of 
children ;  and  when  he  had  persuaded  Dr.  Sumner  to  remit  the 
tasks  usually  given  to  fill  up  boys'  time  during  the  holidays,  he 
rejoiced  exceedingly  in  the  success  of  his  negociation,  and  told 
me  that  he  had  never  ceased  representing  to  all  the  eminent 
schoolmasters  in  England,  the  absurd  tyranny  of  poisoning  the 
hour  of  permitted  pleasure,  by  keeping  future  misery  before  the 
children's  eyes,  and  tempting  them  by  bribery  or  falsehood  to 
evade  it.  'Bob  Sumner  (said  he),  however,  I  have  at  length 
prevailed  upon :  I  know  not  indeed  whether  his  tenderness  was 
persuaded,  or  his  reason  convinced,  but  the  effect  will  always  be 
the  same.'  Poor  Dr.  Sumner  died,  however,  before  the  next 
vacation x. 

Mr.  Johnson  was  of  opinion,  too,  that  young  people  should 
have  positive  not  general  rules  given  for  their  direction.  '  My 
mother  (said  he)  was  always  telling  me  that  I  did  not  behave 
myself  properly ;  that  I  should  endeavour  to  learn  behaviour , 
and  such  cant 2 :  but  when  I  replied,  that  she  ought  to  tell  me 
what  to  do,  and  what  to  avoid,  her  admonitions  were  commonly, 
for  that  time  at  least,  at  an  end.' 


This,  I  fear,  was  however  at  best  a  momentary  refuge,  found 
out  by  perverseness.  No  man  knew  better  than  Johnson  in  how 
many  nameless  and  numberless  actions  behavioiir  consists :  actions 
which  can  scarcely  be  reduced  to  rule,  and  which  come  under  no 
description.  Of  these  he  retained  so  many  very  strange  ones, 


1  Sumner  was   Head    Master   of 
Harrow  School.     He   died  of  apo 
plexy  in  1771  at  the  age  of  forty-one. 
Among  his   pupils  were   Dr.   Parr, 
Sir  William  Jones,  and  R.  B.  Sheri 
dan.  Field's  Life  of  Parr,  i.  16,  5 1,  58. 

2  See  Life,  iv.  221,  n.  I,  for  in 
stances  of  Johnson's  use  of  the  word 
cant.    To  these  I  would  add  the  fol 
lowing  : — '  It  is  pleasant  to  remark 
how  soon  Pope  learnt  the  cant  of  an 

VOL.  I.  M 


author.'  Works,  viii.  238.  *  Addison 
was  not  a  man  on  whom  such  cant  of 
sensibility  could  make  much  impres 
sion.'  Ib.  p.  248.  '  The  Persons  of 
the  Drama  were  first  enumerated 
with  all  the  cant  of  the  modern  stage 
by  Mr.  Rowe.'  Johnson's  Shake 
speare,  ii.  352.  'When  he  calls  the 
girl  his  only  heaven  on  earth  he 
utters  the  common  cant  of  lovers.' 
Ib.  iii.  133. 

that 


162  Anecdotes. 


that  I  suppose  no  one  who  saw  his  odd  manner  of  gesticulating, 
much  blamed  or  wondered  at  the  good  lady's  solicitude  con 
cerning  her  son's  behaviour. 

Though  he  was  attentive  to  the  peace  of  children  in  general, 
no  man  had  a  stronger  contempt  than  he  for  such  parents  as 
openly  profess  that  they  cannot  govern  their  children.  *  How 
(says  he)  is  an  army  governed  ?  Such  people,  for  the  most  part, 
multiply  prohibitions  till  obedience  becomes  impossible,  and 
authority  appears  absurd  ;  and  never  suspect  that  they  tease 
their  family,  their  friends,  and  themselves,  only  because  con 
versation  runs  low,  and  something  must  be  said.' 

Of  parental  authority,  indeed,  few  people  thought  with  a  lower 
degree  of  estimation  z.  I  one  day  mentioned  the  resignation  of 
Cyrus  to  his  father's  will,  as  related  by  Xenophon,  when,  after 
all  his  conquests,  he  requested  the  consent  of  Cambyses  to  his 
marriage  with  a  neighbouring  princess ;  and  I  added  Rollin's 
applause  and  recommendation  of  the  example.  'Do  you  .not 
perceive  then  (says  Johnson),  that  Xenophon  on  this  occasion 
commends  like  a  pedant,  and  Pere  \sic\  Rollin  applauds  like 
a  slave  ?  If  Cyrus  by  his  conquests  had  not  purchased  emanci 
pation,  he  had  conquered  to  little  purpose  indeed.  Can  you 
bear  to  see  the  folly  of  a  fellow  who  has  in  his  care  the  lives  of 
thousands,  when  he  begs  his  papa  permission  to  be  married,  and 
confesses  his  inability  to  decide  in  a  matter  which  concerns  no 
man's  happiness  but  his  own 2  ? ' — Mr.  Johnson  caught  me  another 

1  It    was    parental    tyranny   that  might  marry  but  by  his  father's  and 
Johnson   condemned.     Life,  i.  346,  mother's   also  consent.      Cyrus  the 
n.  2  ;  iii.  377.     For  his  lament  over  Great,  after  he  had  conquered  Baby- 
'  the  general  relaxation  of  reverence  '  Ion  and  subdued  rich  King  Croesus, 
see  ib.  iii.  262.  with    whole    Asia     Minor,     coming 

2  Ascham,  before  Rollin,  *  had  ap-  triumphantly  home,  his  uncle  Cyax- 
plauded  like  a  slave.'     In  his  School-  ares   offered   him   his    daughter    to 
master  (Works,    1864,   iii.    121)  he  wife.     Cyrus  thanked  his  uncle  and 
writes  :— '  And  see  the  great  obedi-  praised  the  maid  ;  but  for  marriage, 
ence  that  was  used  in  old  time   to  he  answered  him  with  these  wise  and 
fathers  and  governors.    No  son,  were  sweet  words,  as  they  be  uttered  by 
he  never  so  old  of  years,  never  so  great  Xenophon,    &c.'      See    Cyropaedia, 
of  birth,  though  he  were  a  king's  son,  viii.  5.  20. 

time 


Anecdotes. 


time  reprimanding  the  daughter  of  my  housekeeper  for  havin 
sat  down  unpermitted  in  her  mother's  presence x.  *  Why,  sKe 
gets  her  living,  does  she  not  (said  he),  without  her  mother's^elp  ? 
Let  the  wench  alone/  continued  he.  And  when  we  Y,^re  again 
out  of  the  women's  sight  who  were  concerned  ir*  the  dispute: 
'  Poor  people's  children,  dear  Lady  (saiH  L^j,  never  respect  them  : 
I  did  not  respect  my  own  mother,  though  I  loved  her :  and  one 
day,  when  in  anger  she  called  me  a  puppy,  I  asked  her  if  she 
knew  what  they  called  a  puppy's  mother.'  We  were  talking  of 
a  young  fellow  who  used  to  come  often  to  the  house ;  he  was 
about  fifteen  years  old,  or  less,  if  I  remember  right,  and  had 
a  manner  at  once  sullen  and  sheepish.  '  That  lad  (says  Mr.  John 
son)  looks  like  the  son  of  a  schoolmaster ;  which  (added  he)  is 
one  of  the  very  worst  conditions  of  childhood  :  such  a  boy  has  no 
father,  or  worse  than  none ;  he  never  can  reflect  on  his  parent 
but  the  reflection  brings  to  his  mind  some  idea  of  pain  inflicted, 
or  of  sorrow  suffered 2.' 

I.  will  relate  one  thing  more  that  Dr.  Johnson  said  about 
babyhood  before  I  quit  the  subject ;  it  was  this :  '  That  little 
people  should  be  encouraged  always  to  tell  whatever  they  hear 
particularly  striking,  to  some  brother,  sister,  or  servant,  im 
mediately  before  the  impression  is  erased  by  the  intervention 
of  newer  occurrences.  He  perfectly  remembered  the  first  time 
he  ever  heard  of  Heaven  and  Hell  (he  said),  because  when  his 
mother  had  made  out  such  a  description  of  both  places  as  she 

1  The  following  story  is  told  of  the  2  See  Life,  i.  44,  n.  2  ;  ii.  144,  n.  2, 

'  proud'  Duke  of  Somerset  who  died  for  the  brutality  of  the  masters  of 

in  1748  : — '  His  two  youngest  daugh-  old.     One  of  the  characters  in  Tom 

ters  were  alternately  obliged  to  stand  Jones  (bk.  xi,  ch.  7)  represents  her 

and  watch  him  during  his  afternoon  husband  as    asking    her   '  with  the 

siesta.    On  one  occasion,  Lady  Char-  voice  of  a  schoolmaster,  or,  what  is 

lotte,  being  fatigued,  sat  down,  when  often   much  the  same,  of  a  tyrant.' 

the  Duke  awaking  unexpectedly  ex-  A  happy  change   has   taken   place, 

pressed  his  surprise  at   her  disobe-  I,  at  all  events,  the  son  of  a  school- 

dience,  and  declared  he  should  re-  master,  can  honestly  say  that   the 

member  her  want  of  decorum  in  his  reflection  on   my  father    does    not 

will.     He  left  this  daughter  ^20,000  bring  to  my  mind  a  single  idea  of 

less     than     the    other.'      Addison's  pain  inflicted  or  of  sorrow  suffered. 
Works,  v.  340,  n.  3. 

M  2,  thought 


164  Anecdotes. 


thought  likely  to  seize  the  attention  of  her  infant  auditor,  who 
was  then  in  bed  with  her,  she  got  up,  and  dressing  him  before 
the  u\s.ual  time,  sent  him  directly  to  call  a  favourite  workman  in 
the  houstTj  to  whom  she  knew  he  would  communicate  the  con 
versation  whils  it  was  yet  impressed  upon  his  mind.  The  event 
was  what  she  wished  *',  apd  it  was  to  that  method  chiefly  that  he 
owed  his  uncommon  felicity  of  remembering  distant  occurrences, 
and  long  past  conversations.' 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  Dr.  Johnson  quitted  school2,  and 
escaped  from  the  tuition  of  those  he  hated  or  those  he  despised. 
I  have  heard  him  relate  very  few  college  adventures.  He  used 
to  say  that  our  best  accounts  of  his  behaviour  there  would  be 
gathered  from  Dr.  Adams 3  and  Dr.  Taylor 4,  and  that  he  was 
sure  they  would  always  tell  the  truth.  He  told  me  however  one 
day,  how,  when  he  was  first  entered  at  the  university,  he  passed 
a  morning,  in  compliance  with  the  customs  of  the  place,  at  his 
tutor's  chambers ;  but  finding  him  no  scholar,  went  no  more. 
In  about  ten  days  after,  meeting  the  same  gentleman,  Mr.  Jordan, 
in  the  street,  he  offered  to  pass  by  without  saluting  him  ;  but  the 

^tutor  stopped,  and  enquired,  not  roughly  neither,  What  he  had 
been  doing  ?  *  Sliding  on  the  ice,'  was  the  reply  ;  and  so  turned 

Vaway  with  disdain 5.    He  laughed  very  heartily  at  the  recollection 

1  Boswell,  who  had  also  heard  this       Master.    Ib.  i.  59.     A  copy  of  his 
story  from  Johnson,  thus  concludes  :       portrait  has  been  lately  hung  in  the 
— '  She   sent    him  to   repeat    it   to       Hall  of  the  College. 

Thomas  Jackson,  their  man-servant ;  4  Johnson's  schoolfellow  and  cor- 

he  not  being  in  the  way,  this  was  not  respondent.     Ib.  i.  44. 

done.'    Life,  i.  38;  ante,  p.  135.  3  The  tutor's  name  was  Jorden. 

2  According  to  Boswell  he  went  to  Johnson,  in  telling  this  story  to  Bos- 
Stourbridge    School   at   the    age   of  well,  added  : — '  1  had  no  notion  that 
fifteen,  remained   there   little    more  I    was   wrong   or   irreverent   to  my 
than   a  year,  and    then  spent  two  tutor.'     Ib.  i.  60.     See  also  i.  272. 
years   at   home   before    he    entered  According  to  Hawkins  (Lifeofjohn- 
college.'      Ib.   i.  49,  50,  56.      This  son,  p.  9)  Johnson  once  said  to  the 
would  make  him  in  his  nineteenth  same  tutor : — '  Sir,  you  have  sconced 
year  when  he  entered  ;  he  was,  how-  [fined]  me  twopence  for  non-attend- 
ever,  in  his   twentieth.      Ib.   i.   58,  ance  at  a  lecture  not  worth  a  penny.3 
n.  3.  Mr.   Falconer   Madan,   one  of   the 

3  At  that  time  one  of  the  Fellows  Sub- Librarians  of  the  Bodleian,  in- 
of  Pembroke  College  ;  afterwards  the  forms   me  that    twopence  was    the 

Of 


Anecdotes. 


of  his  own  insolence,  and  said  they  endured  it  from  him  with 
wonderful  acquiescence,  and  a  gentleness  that,  whenever  he 
thought  of  it,  astonished  himself.  He  told  me  too,  that  when 
he  made  his  first  declamation,  he  wrote  over  but  one  copy,  and 
that  coarsely;  and  having  given  it  into  the  hand  of  the  tutor 
who  stood  to  receive  it  as  he  passed,  was  obliged  to  begin  by 
chance  and  continue  on  how  he  could,  for  he  had  got  but  little  of 
it  by  heart ;  so  fairly  trusting  to  his  present  powers  for  immediate 
supply,  he  finished  by  adding  astonishment  to  the  applause  of  all 
who  knew  how  little  was  owing  to  study  x.  A  prodigious  risque, 
however,  said  some  one :  '  Not  at  all  (exclaims  Johnson),  no  man 
I  suppose  leaps  at  once  into  deep  water  who  does  not  know  how 
to  swim.' 

I  doubt  not  but  this  story  will  be  told  by  many  of  his 
biographers,  and  said  so  to  him  when  he  told  it  me  on  the 
j8th  of  July  1773 2.  '  And  who  will  be  my  biographer  (said  he), 


sconce  in  the  middle  ages.  Johnson, 
in  his  Dictionary,  calls  sconce  '  a  low 
word  which  ought  not  to  be  retained.' 

Adam  Smith,  who  entered  Oxford 
eleven  years  after  Johnson  left  it, 
says :— '  If  the  teacher  happens  to  be 
a  man  of  sense,  it  must  be  an  un 
pleasant  thing  to  him  to  be  conscious, 
while  he  is  lecturing  his  students, 
that  he  is  either  speaking  or  reading 
nonsense,  or  what  is  very  little  better 
than  nonsense.  It  must,  too,  be  un 
pleasant  to  him  to  observe  that  the 
greater  part  of  his  students  desert 
his  lectures ;  or,  perhaps,  attend 
upon  them  with  plain  enough  marks 
of  neglect,  contempt,  and  derision.' 
Wealth  of  Nations,  ed.  1811,  iii. 
171.  'No  discipline,'  he  adds,  'is 
ever  requisite  to  force  attendance 
upon  lectures  which  are  really  worth 
the  attending,  as  is  well  known 
wherever  any  such  lectures  are 
given.'  Ib.  p.  172. 

1  He  told  Windham  the  same 
story.  Letters,  ii.  440.  He  was 
more  careful  with  '  his  first  exercise 


at  College,'  for  a  '  certain  apprehen 
sion  arising  from  novelty  made  him 
write  it  twice  over.'  Life,  i.  71  ;  iv. 

309- 

2  Even  so  early  as  this  he  knew 
that  Boswell  intended  to  write  his 
life.  On  April  1 1  of  this  year  Bos- 
well  records  :  — '  I  again  solicited  him 
to  communicate  to  me  the  particulars 
of  his  early  life.  He  said,  "  You 
shall  have  them  all  for  two-pence.  I 
hope  you  shall  know  a  great  deal 
more  of  me  before  you  write  my  life." ' 
Ib.  ii.  217.  See  also  ib.  i.  25  ;  ii.  166. 
In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  he 
read  the  following  passage  in  Bos- 
well's  Journal :  — '  The  Sunday  even 
ing  that  we  sat  by  ourselves  at  Aber 
deen,  I  asked  him  several  particulars 
of  his  life,  from  his  early  years,  which 
he  readily  told  me  ;  and  I  wrote 
them  down  before  him.  This  day 
I  proceeded  in  my  inquiries,  also 
writing  them  in  his  presence.  I  have 
them  on  detached  sheets.  I  shall 
collect  authentick  materials  for  THE 
LIFE  OF  SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL.D. ; 

do 


1 66  Anecdotes. 


do  you  think  ? '  Goldsmith,  no  doubt,  replied  I,  and  he  will  do 
it  the  best  among  us.  '  The  dog  would  write  it  best  to  be  sure, 
replied  he ;  but  his  particular  malice  towards  me,  and  general 
disregard  for  truth,  would  make  the  book  useless  to  all,  and 
injurious  to  my  character.'  Oh !  as  to  that,  said  I,  we  should  all 
fasten  upon  him,  and  force  him  to  do  you  justice x ;  but  the  worst 
is,  the  Doctor  does  not  know  your  life ;  nor  can  I  tell  indeed 
who  does,  except  Dr.  Taylor  of  Ashbourne.  *  Why  Taylor  (said 
he)  is  better  acquainted  with  my  heart  than  any  man  or  woman 
now  alive  ;  and  the  history  of  my  Oxford  exploits  lies  all  between 
him  and  Adams ;  but  Dr.  James 2  knows  my  very  early  days 
better  than  he.  After  my  coming  to  London  to  drive  the  world 
about  a  little,  you  must  all  go  to  Jack  Hawkesworth  for  anec 
dotes3:  I  lived  in  great  familiarity  with  him  (though  I  think 
there  was  not  much  affection)  from  the  year  1753  till  the  time 
Mr.  Thrale  and  you  took  me  up4.  I  intend,  however,  to  dis 
appoint  the  rogues,  and  either  make  you  write  the  life,  with 
Taylor's  intelligence  ;  or,  which  is  better,  do  it  myself,  after  out 
living  you  all.  I  am  now  (added  he),  keeping  a  diary,  in  hopes 
of  using  it  for  that  purpose  some  time  V  Here  the  conversation 
stopped,  from  my  accidentally  looking  in  an  old  magazine  of  the 
year  I7686,  where  I  saw  the  following  lines  with  his  name  to 
them,  and  asked  if  they  were  his. 

and,  if  I  survive  him,  I  shall  be  one  3  For  the  sense  in  which  Johnson 

who  will  most  faithfully  do  honour  used  the  word  anecdote  see  ib.  ii.  u, 

to  his  memory.'    Life,  v.  312.  n.  i. 

'  Johnson  found  in  James  Boswell  4  The  Adventurer,  which  Hawkes- 
such  a  biographer  as  no  man  but  worth  edited  and  to  which  Johnson 
himself  ever  had,  or  ever  deserved  contributed,  was  published  in  the 
to  have.  ...  His  Life  of  Johnson  years  1753-4.  In  the  Life  of  Swift 
may  be  termed  without  exception  Johnson,  mentioning  Hawkesworth, 
the  best  parlour-window  book  that  speaks  of  '  the  intimacy  of  our  friend- 
was  ever  written.'  Scott's  Misc.  ship.'  Works,  viii.  192.  TheThrales 
Works,  ed.  1834,  iii.  260.  'took  Johnson  up'  in  1765.  Life, 

1  See  Forster's  Goldsmith,  ii.  380,  i.  490,  520. 

for   Forster's  criticism  of  this  pas-  5  The  greater  part   of  this  'was 

sage.  consigned  by  him  to  the  flames  a 

2  The    inventor    of    the    powder  few  days  before  his  death.'    Ib.  i.  25  ; 
which   bears    his  name.      He    had  iv.  405. 

been  at  school  with  Johnson.  Life,  6  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1768,  p. 
i.  8 1 ;  iii.  4.  439- 

Verses 


Anecdotes.  167 


Verses  said  to  be  written  by  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  at  the 
request  of  a  Gentleman  to  whom  a  Lady  had  given  a  Sprig 
of  Myrtle. 

What  hopes,  what  terrors,  does  thy  gift  create, 
Ambiguous  emblem  of  uncertain  fate : 
The  Myrtle,  ensign  of  supreme  command, 
Consign'd  by  Venus  to  Melissa's  hand, 
Not  less  capricious  than  a  reigning  fair, 
Now  grants,  and  now  rejects  a  lover's  prayer1. 
In  myrtle  shades  oft  sings  the  happy  swain, 
In  myrtle  shades  despairing  ghosts  complain: 
The  myrtle  crowns  the  happy  lovers'  heads, 
Th'  unhappy  lover's  grave0  the  myrtle  spreads: 
O  then  the  meaning  of  thy  gift  impart, 
And  ease  the  throbbings  of  an  anxious  heart ! 
Soon  must  this  bough,  as  you  shall  fix  his  doom, 
Adorn  Philanders  head,  or  grace  his  tomb. 

*  Why  now,  do  but  see  how  the  world  is  gaping  for  a  wonder ! 
(cries  Mr.  Johnson;)  I  think  it  is  now  just  forty  years  ago3  that 
a  young  fellow  had  a  sprig  of  myrtle  given  him  by  a  girl  he 
courted,  and  asked  me  to  write  him  some  verses  that  he  might 
present  her  in  return.  I  promised,  but  forgot ;  and  when  he 
called  for  his  lines  at  the  time  agreed  on — Sit  still  a  moment 
(says  I),  dear  Mund 4,  and  I'll  fetch  them  thee — so  stepped  aside 
for  five  minutes,  and  wrote  the  nonsense  you  now  keep  such 
a  stir  about  V 

Upon  revising  these  Anecdotes,  it  is  impossible  not  to  be 
struck  with  shame  and  regret  that  one  treasured  no  more  of 

1  In  the  Gentlemaris  Magazine  this          5  Johnson  told  Nichols  also  that 
line  is  given  : —  he  had  written  these  verses  in  five 

'Oft  favours,  oft  rejects  a  lover's  minutes.     Works,  i.  128  n. 
prayer.'  Boswell,  who  in  his  first  edition,  on 

2  '  Th'  unhappy  lovers  graves.'  Ib. ;  the  authority  of  the  mendacious  Miss 
but  Boswell,  who  had  seen  the  ori-  Seward,  '  was  induced  to  doubt  the 
ginal  manuscript,  gives  it  '  Th'  un-  authenticity '  of  Mrs.  Piozzi's  anec- 
happy  lovers'  grave.'     Life,  i.  92.  dote,  says  in  a  note  to  the  second : — 

3  It  was  in  1731.     Ib.  i.  93  n.  'I  am  obliged  in  so  many  instances 

4  It  was  Edmund  Hector  at  whose  to  notice  Mrs.  Piozzi's  incorrectness 
request  these  verses    were  written.  of  relation,  that   I  gladly  seize  this 
For  Johnson's  habit  of  contracting  opportunity  of  acknowledging,  that 
the  names  of  his  friends,  see  ib.  ii.  however  often,  she  is  not  always  in- 
258.  accurate.'    Life,  i.  93  ». 

them 


i68  Anecdotes. 


them  up  ;  but  no  experience  is  sufficient  to  cure  the  vice  of 
negligence:  whatever  one  sees  constantly,  or  might  see  con 
stantly,  becomes  uninteresting ;  and  we  suffer  every  trivial  occu 
pation,  every  slight  amusement,  to  hinder  us  from  writing  down, 
what  indeed  we  cannot  chuse  but  remember  ;  but  what  we  should 
wish  to  recollect  with  pleasure,  unpoisoned  by  remorse  for  not 
remembering  more.  While  I  write  this,  I  neglect  impressing  my 
mind  with  the  wonders  of  art,  and  beauties  of  nature,  that  now 
surround  me ;  and  shall  one  day,  perhaps,  think  on  the  hours 
I  might  have  profitably  passed  in  the  Florentine  Gallery,  and 
reflecting  on  Raphael's  St.  John  at  that  time,  as  upon  Johnson's 
conversation  in  this  moment,  may  justly  exclaim  of  the  months 
spent  by  me  most  delightfully  in  Italy 

That  I  priz'd  every  hour  that  pass'd  by, 

Beyond  all  that  had  pleas'd  me  before; 
But  now  they  are  past,  and  I  sigh, 

And  I  grieve  that  I  priz'd  them  no  more. 

SHENSTONE1. 

Dr.  Johnson  delighted  in  his  own  partiality  for  Oxford ;  and 
one  day,  at  my  house,  entertained  five  members  of  the  other 
university  with  various  instances  of  the  superiority  of  Oxford, 
enumerating  the  gigantic  names  of  many  men  whom  it  had 
produced,  with  apparent  triumph2.  At  last  I  said  to  him,  Why 
there  happens  to  be  no  less  than  five  Cambridge  men  in  the 
room  now.  '  I  did  not  (said  he)  think  of  that  till  you  told  me  ; 
but  the  wolf  don't  count  the  sheep.'  When  the  company  were 
retired,  we  happened  to  be  talking  of  Dr.  Barnard,  the  Provost 
of  Eton,  who  died  about  that  time 3 ;  and  after  a  long  and  just 
eulogium  on  his  wit,  his  learning,  and  his  goodness  of  heart : 
'  He  was  the  only  man  too  (says  Mr.  Johnson  quite  seriously) 

1  From  A  Pastoral  Ballad  in  four      have  been  overwhelmed. 

Parts.     Shenstone's  Poems,  ed.  1854,          3  He  died  in  Dec.  1781.    Nichols's 

p.  150.    Johnson  quotes  this  verse  in  Lit,  Anec.  viii.  543.     For  the  evening 

his  Life  of  Shenstone.     Mrs.  Piozzi  at  Mrs.  Vesey's  when  the  company 

spoils  the  metre  of  the  first  line  by  collected  round  him    and   Johnson 

adding  '  that.'  « four,  if  not  five,  deep,'  see  Life>  iii. 

2  With  the  names  of  Bacon,  Milton,  425. 
and   Newton  even    Johnson   would 

that 


Anecdotes. 


169 


that  did  justice  to  my  good  breeding ;  and  you  may  observe  that 
I  am  well-bred  to  a  degree  of  needless  scrupulosity *.  No  man, 
(continued  he,  not  observing  the  amazement  of  his  hearers)  no 
man  is  so  cautious  not  to  interrupt  another;  no  man  thinks  it 
so  necessary  to  appear  attentive  when  others  are  speaking 2 ;  no 
man  so  steadily  refuses  preference  to  himself,  or  so  willingly 
bestows  it  on  another,  as  I  do  ;  no  body  holds  so  strongly  as  I  do 
the  necessity  of  ceremony,  and  the  ill  effects  which  follow  the 
breach  of  it :  yet  people  think  me  rude ;  but  Barnard  did  me 
justice3.'  Tis  pity,  said  I,  laughing,  that  he  had  not  heard  you 
compliment  the  Cambridge  men  after  dinner  to-day.  'Why 
(replied  he)  I  was  inclined  to  down 4  them  sure  enough ;  but 
then  a  fellow  deserves  to  be  of  Oxford  that  talks  so.'  I  have 
heard  him  at  other  times  relate  how  he  used  to  sit  in  some 

coffee-house  there,  and  turn  M 's  C-r-ct-u-s  into  ridicule  for 

the  diversion  of  himself  and  of  chance  comers-in.  '  The  Elf — da 
(says  he)  was  too  exquisitely  pretty ;  I  could  make  no  fun  out  of 
that  V  When  upon  some  occasions  he  would  express  his  astonish- 


1  '  Every  one,'  says  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury,     *  thinks    himself    well-bred.' 
Characteristicks ,  ed.  1714,  i.  65. 

For  instances  of  scrupulosity,  see 
Life,  iv.  5,  n,  2,  and  Letters,  ii.  144, n.  I. 
Richardson  in  Sir  Charles  Grandison, 
ed.  1754,  v.  85,  90,  puts  it  into  the 
mouth  of  Mr.  Selby  who  was  remark 
able  for  '  peculiarities  of  words.' 

2  '  He  encouraged  others,  particu 
larly  young  men,  to  speak,  and  paid 
a  due  attention  to  what  they  said.' 
Hawkins,  p.  164. 

'  Bien  e"couter  et  bien  re"pondre  est 
une  des  plus  grandes  choses  qu'on 
puisse  avoir  dans  la  conversation.' 
La  Rochefoucauld,  Maximes,  No. 

139- 

3  See  post,  p.  3 1 8.     '  Every  man  of 
any  education,'  said  Johnson,  '  would 
rather  be  called  a  rascal  than  accused 
of  deficiency  in  the  graces.'     Life, 
iii.  54.     '  Sir,'  said  Johnson  to  Bos- 
well,  '  I  look  upon  myself  as  a  very 
polite  man.'     'And  he    was  right,' 


is  Boswell's  comment,  '  in  a  proper 
manly  sense  of  the  word.'  Ib.  v.  363. 
'Theoretically,'  writes  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  *  no  man  understood  the  rules 
of  good  breeding  better  than  Dr. 
Johnson,  or  could  act  more  exactly 
in  conformity  with  them,  when  the 
high  rank  of  those  with  whom  he 
was  in  company  for  the  time  re 
quired  that  he  should  put  the  neces 
sary  constraint  upon  himself.'  Scott's 
Misc.  Prose  Works,  ed.  1834,  iii. 
268. 

4  See  Life,  iii.  335,  where  Johnson 
says  : — '  Robertson  was  in  a  mighty 
romantick  humour,  he  talked  of  one 
whom    he    did    not    know;    but    I 
downed    him    with    the     King    of 
Prussia.' 

Percy  says  that  Johnson's  habit  of 
depreciating  Cambridge  men  'was 
more  affected  than  real.'  Anderson's 
Johnson,  ed.  1815,  p.  486. 

5  Boswell,  who  'ever  entertained 
a   warm    admiration'    for    Mason's 

ment 


170  Anecdotes. 


ment  that  he  should  have  an  enemy  in  the  world  *,  while  he  had 
been  doing  nothing  but  good  to  his  neighbours,  I  used  to  make 
him  recollect  these  circumstances :  '  Why  child  (said  he),  what 
harm  could  that  do  the  fellow 2  ?  I  always  thought  very  well  of 
M — — n  for  a  Cambridge  man ;  he  is,  I  believe,  a  mighty  blame 
less  character.'  Such  tricks  were,  however,  the  more  unpardon 
able  in  Mr.  Johnson,  because  no  one  could  harangue  like  him 
about  the  difficulty  always  found  in  forgiving  petty  injuries,  or  in 
provoking  by  needless  offence.  Mr.  Jordan,  his  tutor,  had  much 
of  his  affection,  though  he  despised  his  want  of  scholastic  learning. 
'  That  creature  would  (said  he)  defend  his  pupils  to  the  last :  no 
young  lad  under  his  care  should  suffer  for  committing  slight 
improprieties,  while  he  had  breath  to  defend,  or  power  to  protect 
them.  If  I  had  had  sons  to  send  to  college  (added  he),  Jordan 
should  have  been  their  tutor  V 

Sir  William  Browne  the  physician,  who  lived  to  a  very  extra 
ordinary  age,  and  was  in  other  respects  an  odd  mortal,  with  more 
genius  than  understanding,  and  more  self-sufficiency  than  wit, 
was  the  only  person  who  ventured  to  oppose  Mr.  Johnson,  when 
he  had  a  mind  to  shine  by  exalting  his  favourite  university,  and 
to  express  his  contempt  of  the  whiggish  notions  which  prevail  at 
Cambridge 4.  He  did  it  once,  however,  with  surprising  felicity : 

Caractacus    and     Elfrida,     '  often  3  When  Johnson  visited  Oxford  in 

wondered  at  Johnson's  low  estimation  1754,  'he  much  regretted  that  his 

of  his  writings.'   Life,  ii.  335.    Mason  first  tutor   [Jorden]   was    dead,   for 

was  a  Cambridge  man.  whom    he     seemed    to    retain    the 

Johnson  in   his  Dictionary  calls  greatest  regard.'    Ib.  i.  272. 

fun  '  a  low  cant  [slang]  word.'     In  4  Miss   Burney  records    in   May, 

Sir  Charles  Grandison,  ed.  1754,  i.  1772  : — '  I  have  just  left  the  famous 

96-7,  it  is  used  by  an  illiterate  gentle-  Sir  William  Browne  in  the  parlour, 

man.  a  most  extraordinary  old  man,  who 

1  From  a  sick  room  he  wrote  to  lives  in  the  Square  [Queen  Square], 
Mrs.  Thrale  in  the  last  year  but  one  and  is  here  on  a  visit.     He  has  been 
of  his  life  : — '  I   have    in  this  still  a  very  renowned  physician  ;  whether 
scene  of  life  great  comfort  in  reflect-  for  saving  or  killing  I  cannot  say. 
ing  that  I  have  given  very  few  reason  He  is  near  eighty,  and  enjoys  pro- 
to  hate  me.'     Letter s>  ii.  314.  digious  health   and    spirits,   and   is 

2  See  Lifet  iv.  280,  where  he  asks,  gallant  to  the  ladies  to  a  most  ridicu- 
*  What  harm  does  it  do  to  any  man  lous  degree.     He  never  comes  with- 
to  be  contradicted  ? '  out  repeating  some   of  his  verses.' 

his 


Anecdotes. 


171 


his  antagonist  having  repeated  with  an  air  of  triumph  the  famous 
epigram  written  by  Dr.  Trapp r, 

Our  royal  master  saw,  with  heedful  eyes, 

The  wants  of  his  two  universities : 

Troops  he  to  Oxford  sent,  as  knowing  why 

That  learned  body  wanted  loyalty: 

But  books  to  Cambridge  gave,  as,  well  discerning, 

That  that  right  loyal  body  wanted  learning. 

Which,  says  Sir  William,  might  well  be  answered  thus : 

The  king  to  Oxford  sent  his  troop  of  horse, 
For  Tories  own  no  argument  but  force ; 
With  equal  care  to  Cambridge  books  he  sent, 
For  Whigs  allow  no  force  but  argument2. 


Early  Diary  of  Frances  Burney,  i. 
177.  He  died  on  March  10,  1774, 
aged  82.  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
1774,  p.  142.  See  ib.  i775»  P-  44  for 
the  prizes  of  three  gold  medals  which 
he  founded  at  Cambridge  for  Greek 
and  Latin  verse. 

1  For   a  memoir   of    Dr.  Joseph 
Trapp  (1679-1747)  see  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1786,  pp.  381,  660.     He 
was  the  first  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford.     It  is  said  that  he  was  the 
original    of    Swift's    'little     parson 
Dapper,  who  is  the  common   relief 
to  all  the  lazy  pulpits  in  town.     This 
smart  youth  has  a  very  good  memory, 
a  quick  eye,  and  a  clean  handker 
chief.     Thus  equipped,  he  opens  his 
text,  shuts  his  book  fairly,  shows  he 
has  no  notes  in  his  Bible,  opens  both 
palms  and   shews   all   is  fair  there 
too.'     The  Tatter,  No.  66.     Swift's 
Works,  viii.  163.     I  cannot  find  any 
evidence  besides  Mrs.  Piozzi's  that 
he  wrote  this  epigram. 

2  In  Nichols's  Lit.  Anec.  iii.  330 
the  following  versions  are  given : — 

I. 
'  The  King,  observing  with  judicious 

eyes, 
The  state  of  his  two  universities ; 


To  Oxford  sent   a  troop  of  horse  ; 

and  why  ? 

That  learned  body  wanted  loyalty ; 
To  Cambridge  books,  as  very  well 

discerning 
How  much  that  loyal  body  wanted 

learning.' 

II. 
'  The  King  to  Oxford  sent  a  troop  of 

horse, 
For  Tories   own  no  argument  but 

force  ; 
With  equal  skill  to  Cambridge  books 

he  sent, 

For  Whigs  admit  no  force  but  argu 
ment.' 

George  I,  in  September,  1715,  gave 
6,000  guineas  for  the  library  (30,000 
volumes)  of  John  Moore,  Bishop  of 
Ely,  who  had  died  the  previous  year, 
and  presented  it  to  the  University  of 
Cambridge.  Willis  and  Clark's 
Architectural  History  of  Cambridge, 
iii.  29.  A  little  later  *  an  intercepted 
letter  from  an  Oxford  undergraduate 
to  his  friend  in  London  boasts  that 
"  Here  we  fear  nothing,  but  drink 
James's  health  every  day."  Colonel 
Owen  and  several  other  broken 
officers  had  taken  shelter  at  the  Uni 
versity,  and  were  concerting  measures 

Mr. 


172 


Anecdotes. 


Mr.  Johnson  did  him  the  justice  to  say,  it  was  one  of  the 
happiest  extemporaneous  productions  he  ever  met  with ;  though 
he  once  comically  confessed,  that  he  hated  to  repeat  the  wit  of 
a  whig  urged  in  support  of  whiggism.  Says  Garrick  to  him  one 
day,  Why  did  not  you  make  me  a  tory,  when  we  lived  so  much 
together x,  you  love  to  make  people  tories?  '  Why  (says  Johnson, 
pulling  a  heap  of  halfpence  from  his  pocket)  did  not  the  king 
make  these  guineas  ? ' 

Of  Mr.  Johnson's  toryism  the  world  has  long  been  witness, 
and  the  political  pamphlets  written  by  him  in  defence  of  his 
party,  are  vigorous  and  elegant.  He  often  delighted  his  ima 
gination  with  the  thoughts  of  having  destroyed  Junius,  an 
anonymous  writer  who  flourished  in  the  years  1769,  and  1770, 
and  who  kept  himself  so  ingeniously  concealed  from  every 
endeavour  to  detect  him,  that  no  probable  guess  was,  I  believe, 
ever  formed  concerning  the  author's  name,  though  at  that  time 
the  subject  of  general  conversation 2.  Mr.  Johnson  made  us  all 


with  the  Heads  of  Houses,  and  pro 
jecting  an  insurrection  .  .  .  ;  but 
Stanhope  sent  thither  General  Pepper 
with  a  squadron  of  dragoons.  March 
ing  all  night,  Pepper  entered  Oxford 
at  day-break  on  the  6th  of  October, 
1715.'  M  ahon'  s  History  of  England, 
ed.  1839,  i.  235. 

1  *  True  to  his  King  and  the  Con 
stitution  Garrick  declined  all  disputes 
about  Whig  and  Tory.     Mr.  Pelham 
was  the  minister  whom  he  admired, 
as  may  be  seen  in  his  Ode  on  the 
death  of  that  great  man.'     Murphy's 
Garrick,  p.  379.     For  this  Ode  see 
Life,  i.  269. 

2  Johnson  attacked  Junius  in  his 
pamphlet  on  Falkland^  Islands,  pub 
lished   in   the  early  spring  of  1771. 
Life,  ii.   134;    Works,  vi.  198.     The 
signature  '  Junius  '  first  appeared  on 
Nov.  21,  1768.     The  first  Junius  of 
the   collected  edition   appeared    on 
Jan.  21,  1769;  the  last  on  Jan.  21, 
1772.    Diet.  Nat.  Biog.,  xx.  173. 


'  Three  men,'  writes  Horace  Wai- 
pole,  'were  especially  suspected, 
Wilkes,  Edmund  Burke  and  W.  G. 
Hamilton.  Hamilton  was  most  gene 
rally  suspected.'  Memoirs  oj  George 
III,  iii.  401.  Johnson  said,  '  I  should 
have  believed  Burke  to  be  Junius, 
because  I  know  no  man  but  Burke 
who  is  capable  of  writing  these  letters, 
but  Burke  spontaneously  denied  it  to 
me.'  Life,  iii.  376.  Burke,  writing 
on  this  subject  to  Charles  Townshend 
on  Oct.  17,  1771,  says  :— '  My  friends 
I  have  satisfied  ;  my  enemies  shall 
never  have  any  direct  satisfaction 
from  me.'  Burke's  Correspondence, 
i.  268.  When  Wilkes  was  charged 
with  being  the  author  '  Utinam  scrip- 
sissem!'  he  replied,  'Would  to 
Heaven  I  could  have  written  them.' 
Wraxall's  Memoirs,  ed.  1815,  i.  460. 
Mrs.  Piozzi,  in  a  marginal  note  on 
Wraxall,  says  : — '  I  well  remember 
when  they  [Junius's  Letter s\  were 
most  talked  of— and  N.  [W]  Seward 
laugh 


Anecdotes.  173 


laugh  one  day,  because  I  had  received  a  remarkably  fine  Stilton 
cheese  as  a  present  from  some  person  who  had  packed  and 
directed  it  carefully,  but  without  mentioning  whence  it  came. 
Mr.  Thrale,  desirous  to  know  who  we  were  obliged  to,  asked 
every  friend  as  they  came  in,  but  no  body  owned  it :  *  Depend 
upon  it,  Sir  (says  Johnson),  it  was  sent  by  Junius? 

The  False  Alarm,  his  first  and  favourite  pamphlet1,  was 
written  at  our  house  between  eight  o'clock  on  Wednesday  night 
and  twelve  o'clock  on  Thursday  night  ;  we  read  it  to  Mr.  Thrale 
when  he  came  very  late  home  from  the  House  of  Commons2: 
the  other  political  tracts  followed  in  their  order.  I  have  for 
gotten  which  contains  the  stroke  at  Junius  ;  but  shall  for  ever 
remember  the  pleasure  it  gave  him  to  have  written  it.  It  was 
however  in  the  year  1775  that  Mr.  Edmund  Burke  made  the 
famous  speech  in  parliament,  that  struck  even  foes  with  admira 
tion,  and  friends  with  delight 3.  Among  the  nameless  thousands 
who  are  contented  to  echo  those  praises  they  have  not  skill  to 
invent,  /  ventured,  before  Dr.  Johnson  himself,  to  applaud,  with 
rapture,  the  beautiful  passage  in  it  concerning  Lord  Bathurst  and 
the  Angel4;  which,  said  our  Doctor,  had  I  been  in  the  house, 
I  would  have  answered  thus : 

said,   "  How  the   arrows   of  Junius  of  them  did  you  think  the  best  ?  " 

were   sure  to   wound  and   likely  to  BOSWELL.  "  I  liked  the  second  best." 

stick."     "  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Dr.  John-  JOHNSON.  "  Why,  Sir,  I  liked  the  first 

son  ;  "  yet  let  us  distinguish  between  best ;  and  Beattie  liked  the  first  best, 

the  venom  of  the  shaft  and  the  vigour  Sir,  there  is  a  subtlety  of  disquisition 

of  the  bow."     At  which  expression  in  the  first,  that  is  worth  all  the  fire 

Mr.  Hamilton's  countenance  fell  in  of  the  second."  '    Life,  ii.  147. 

a  manner  that  to  me  betrayed  the  2  He  was  member  for  South wark 

author.     Johnson   repeated  the   ex-  from  December,  1765,  till  the  disso- 

pression  in  his  next  pamphlet — and  lution  in  1780.     Par/.  Hist.  xv.  1089  ; 

Junius  wrote  no  more.'     Hayward's  Life,  iii.  442. 

Piczzi,  2nd  ed.,  ii.  106.     For  John-  3  On   Conciliation  with  America, 

son's  repetition  of  this  expression  see  March  22,  1775. 

Works,   vi.   205.      Junius,  however,  4  Burke,  describing  '  the  growth  of 

continued  to  write.  our  national  prosperity  '  through  our 

1  '  We  talked  of  his  two  political  trade  with  America,  continues  : — '  It 

pamphlets,    The  False  Alarm,  and  hashappened  within  sixty-eight  years. 

Thoiights     concerning     Falkland's  There  are  those  alive  whose  memory 

Islands.  JOHNSON.  "Well, Sir, which  might    touch    the    two   extremities. 

*  Suppose 


174  Anecdotes. 


1  Suppose,  Mr.  Speaker,  that  to  Wharton,  or  to  Marlborough,  or 
to  any  of  the  eminent  whigs  of  the  last  age,  the  devil x  had,  not 
with  any  great  impropriety,  consented  to  appear ;  he  would 
perhaps  in  somewhat  like  these  words  have  commenced  the  con 
versation  : 

'  You  seem,  my  Lord,  to  be  concerned  at  the  judicious  appre 
hension,  that  while  you  are  sapping  the  foundations  of  royalty 
at  home,  and  propagating  here  the  dangerous  doctrine  of  resis 
tance  ;  the  distance  of  America  may  secure  its  inhabitants  from 
your  arts,  though  active:  but  I  will  unfold  to  you  the  gay 
prospects  of  futurity.  This  people,  now  so  innocent  and 
harmless,  shall  draw  the  sword  against  their  mother  country, 
and  bathe  its  point  in  the  blood  of  their  benefactors  ;  this 
people,  now  contented  with  a  little,  shall  then  refuse  to  spare 
what  they  themselves  confess  they  could  not  miss 2 ;  and  these 
men,  now  so  honest  and  so  grateful,  shall,  in  return  for  peace 
and  for  protection,  see 3  their  vile  agents  in  the  house  of  par 
liament,  there  to  sow  the  seeds  of  sedition,  and  propagate 
confusion,  perplexity,  and  pain.  Be  not  dispirited  then  at  the 
contemplation  of  their  present  happy  state  :  I  promise  you  that 
anarchy,  poverty,  and  death  shall,  by  my  care,  be  carried  even 

For    instance,    my    Lord    Bathurst  couth  manners  ;  yet  shall,  before  you 

might  remember  all  the  stages  of  the  taste  of  death,  show  itself  equal  to 

progress. .  .  .  Suppose,  Sir,  that  the  the  whole  of  that  commerce  which 

angel  of  this  auspicious  youth  .  .  .  now  attracts  the  envy  of  the  world,"  ' 

If  amidst  these  bright   and  happy  &c.     Payne's  Burke,  i.  172. 

scenes  of  domestic  honour  and  pros-  W.  W.  Pepys  wrote  to   Hannah 

perity,  that  angel  should  have  drawn  More  : — ( I  once  heard  a  man  say  of 

up  the    curtain    and    unfolded   the  Burke,  while  he  was  pouring  forth 

rising  glories   of  his   country,  and,  torrents  of  eloquence  in  the  House  of 

whilst  he  was  gazing  with  admiration  Commons,  "  How  closely  that  fellow 

on  the  then  commercial  grandeur  of  reasons     in    metaphor  !  " '      M ore's 

England,   the   Genius   should  point  Memoirs,  iii.  377. 

out  to  him  a'  little  speck  scarcely  x  '  I   have    always   said    the   first 

visible  in  the  mass  of  the  national  Whig  was  the  Devil.'    Life,  iii.  326. 

interest,  a  small  seminal   principle,  2  What  they  refused  to  spare  was 

rather  than    a    formed    body,    and  a  contribution  towards  the  expenses 

should  tell  him — "  Young  man,  there  of  the  last  French  war. 

is  America — which  at  this  day  serves  3  See  I  have  little  doubt  is  a  mis- 

for   little   more  than  to  amuse  you  print  for  fee. 
with  stories  of  savage  men  and  un- 

across 


Anecdotes. 


across  the  spacious  Atlantic,  and  settle  in  America  itself,  the 
sure  consequences  of  our  beloved  whiggism.' 

This  I  thought  a  thing  so  very  particular,  that  I  begged  his 
leave  to  write  it  down  directly,  before  any  thing  could  intervene 
that  might  make  me  forget  the  force  of  the  expressions1: 
a  trick,  which  I  have  however  seen  played  on  common  occasions, 
"of  sitting  steadily 2  down  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  to  write 
at  the  moment  what  should  be  said  in  company,  either  by 
Dr.  Johnson  or  to  him,  I  never  practised  myself,  nor  approved 
of  in  another.  There  is  something  so  ill-bred,  and  so  inclining 
to  treachery  in  this  conduct,  that  were  it  commonly  adopted, 
all  confidence  would  soon  be  exiled  from  society,  and  a  con- 
versation  assembly-room  would  become  tremendous  as  a  court 
)f  justice 3.  A  set  of  acquaintance  joined  in  familiar  chat  may 
say  a  thousand  things,  which  (as  the  phrase  is)  pass  well 
enough  at  the  time,  though  they  cannot  stand  the  test  of  critical 
examination ;  and  as  all  talk  beyond  that  which  is  necessary  to 
the  purposes  of  actual  business  is  a  kind  of  game  4,  there  will  be 
ever  found  ways  of  playing  fairly  or  unfairly  at  it,  which  distin- 


x  '  Mrs.  Thrale,'  writes  Boswell, 
'  has  published  as  Johnson's  a  kind 
of  parody  or  counterpart  of  a  fine 
poetical  passage  in  one  of  Mr.  Burke's 
speeches  on  American  Taxation.  It 
is  vigorously  but  somewhat  coarsely 
executed  ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  sup 
pose,  is  not  quite  correctly  exhibited. 
I  hope  he  did  not  use  the  words 
"  vile  agents  "  for  the  Americans  in 
the  House  of  Parliament ;  and  if  he 
did  so,  in  an  extempore  effusion,  I 
wish  the  lady  had  not  committed  it 
to  writing.'  Life,  iv.  317. 

2  Perhaps      Mrs.      Piozzi     wrote 
stealthily.     Mr.    Barclay   said    that 
'he    had    seen    Boswell    lay    down 
his  knife  and  fork,  and  take  out  his 
tablets  in  order  to   register  a  good 
anecdote.'     Post   in    Mr.   Barclay's 
Anecdotes. 

3  Bishop  Percy  in  a  note  on  Ander- 
sor^s  Johnson^.  6,  says  of  Boswell : — 
'  It  is  surely  an  exception  more  than 


venial  to  violate  one  of  the  first  and 
most  sacred  laws  of  society  by  pub 
lishing  private  and  unguarded  con 
versation  of  unsuspecting  company 
into  which  he  was  accidentally  ad 
mitted.'  Percy  had  more  than  once 
suffered  from  this  publication.  Life, 
ii.  64;  iii.  271. 

4  '  Sir,  a  game  of  jokes  is  composed 
partly  of  skill,  partly  of  chance,  a 
man  may  be  beat  at  times  by  one 
who  has  not  the  tenth  part  of  his 
wit.'  Ib.  ii.  231.  'And  then  also 
for  men's  reputation  ;  and  that  either 
in  point  of  wisdom  or  of  wit.  There 
is  hardly  anything  which  (for  the 
most  part)  falls  under  a  greater 
chance.  .  .  .  Nay,  even  where  there 
is  a  real  stock  of  wit,  yet  the  wittiest 
sayings  and  sentences  will  be  found 
in  a  great  measure  the  issues  of 
chance,  and  nothing  else  but  so  many 
lucky  hits  of  a  roving  fancy.'  South's 
Sermons,  ed.  1823,  i.  218-220. 

guish 


176 


Anecdotes. 


guish  the  gentleman  from  the  juggler.  Dr.  Johnson,  as  well  as 
many  of  my  acquaintance,  knew  that  I  kept  a  common-place 
book I  ;  and  he  one  day  said  to  me  good-humouredly,  that  he 
would  give  me  something  to  write  in  my  repository.  *  I  warrant 
(said  he)  there  is  a  great  deal  about  me  in  it :  you  shall  have  at 
least  one  thing  worth  your  pains  ;  so  if  you  will  get  the  pen  and 
ink,  I  will  repeat  to  you  Anacreon's  Dove  directly  ;  but  tell  at 
the  same  time,  that  as  I  never  was  struck  with  any  thing  in 
the  Greek  language  till  I  read  that,  so  I  never  read  any  thing 
in  the  same  language  since,  that  pleased  me  as  much.  I  hope 
my  translation  (continued  he)  is  not  worse  than  that  of  Frank 
Fawkes  V  Seeing  me  disposed  to  laugh,  '  Nay,  nay  (said  he), 
Frank  Fawkes  had  done  them  very  finely.' 

Lovely  courier  of  the  sky, 
Whence  and  whither  dost  thou  fly? 
Scatt'ring,  as  thy  pinions  play, 
Liquid  fragrance  all  the  way: 
Is  it  business?  is  it  love? 
Tell  me,  tell  me,  gentle  Dove. 


1  Boswell  in  his  Tour  to  the  He 
brides,  which  was  published  before 
the  Anecdotes,  had  not  attacked  Mrs. 
Piozzi,  so  that  her  attack  on  him 
would  seem  unprovoked.  She  sus 
pected  him,  however,  of  being  the 
author  of  anonymous  attacks  in  the 
newspapers.  In  the  Life,  iv.  343,  he 
replies : — 

*  I  have  had  occasion  several  times, 
in  the  course  of  this  work,  to  point  out 
the  incorrectness  of  Mrs.  Thrale,  as  to 
particulars  which  consisted  with  my 
own  knowledge.  But  indeed  she  has, 
in  flippant  terms  enough,  expressed 
her  disapprobation  of  that  anxious 
desire  of  authenticity  which  prompts 
a  person  who  is  to  record  conversa 
tions,  to  write  them  down  at  the 
moment.  Unquestionably,  if  they 
are  to  be  recorded  at  all,  the  sooner 
it  is  done  the  better.  .  .  .  She  boasts 
of  her  having  kept  a  common-place 
book ;  and  we  find  she  noted,  at  one 
time  or  other,  in  a  very  lively  manner, 


specimens  of  the  conversation  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  of  those  who  talked 
with  him;  but  had  she  done  it  re 
cently,  they  probably  would  have 
been  less  erroneous  ;  and  we  should 
have  been  relieved  from  those  dis 
agreeable  doubts  of  their  authenticity, 
with  which  we  must  now  peruse 
them.3 

'  From  1776  to  1809  Mrs.  Piozzi 
kept  a  copious  diary  and  note-book 
called  Thraliana?  Hay  ward's  Pi 
ozzi,  i.  6. 

2  Francis  Fawkes  was  the  author 
of  The  Brown  Jug.  Campbell's 
British  Poets,  ed.  1845,  p.  544.  In 
1761  he  published  Original  Poems 
and  Translations,  for  a  copy  of 
which  on  superfine  paper  Johnson 
subscribed.  In  conjunction  with 
Woty,  Fawkes  published  in  1763  The 
Poetical  Calendar,  to  which  Johnson 
contributed  a  character  of  Collins. 
Life,  i.  382. 

'Soft 


Anecdotes.  177 


'Soft  Anacreon's  vows  I  bear, 
Vows  to  Myrtale  the  fair ; 
Grac'd  with  all  that  charms  the  heart, 
Blushing  nature,  smiling  art. 
Venus,  courted  by  an  ode, 
On  the  bard  her  Dove  bestow'd. 
Vested  with  a  master's  right 
Now  Anacreon  rules  my  flight: 
His  the  letters  that  you  see, 
Weighty  charge  consign'd  to  me : 
Think  not  yet  my  service  hard, 
Joyless  task  without  reward : 
Smiling  at  my  master's  gates, 
Freedom  my  return  awaits ; 
But  the  liberal  grant  in  vain 
Tempts  me  to  be  wild  again  : 
Can  a  prudent  Dove  decline 
Blissful  bondage  such  as  mine? 
Over  hills  and  fields  to  roam, 
Fortune's  guest  without  a  home; 
Under  leaves  to  hide  one's  head, 
Slightly  shelter'd,  coarsely  fed ; 
Now  my  better  lot  bestows 
Sweet  repast,  and  soft  repose  ; 
Now  the  generous  bowl  I  sip 
As  it  leaves  Anacreon's  lip; 
Void  of  care,  and  free  from  dread, 
From  his  fingers  snatch  his  bread, 
Then  with  luscious  plenty  gay, 
Round  his  chamber  dance  and  play ; 
Or  from  wine  as  courage  springs, 
O'er  his  face  extend  my  wings ; 
And  when  feast  and  frolick  tire, 
Drop  asleep  upon  his  lyre. 
This  is  all,  be  quick  and  go, 
More  than  all  thou  canst  not  know ; 
Let  me  now  my  pinions  ply, 
I  have  chatter'd  like  a  pye.' 

When  I  had  finished,  *  But  you  must  remember  to  add  (says 
Mr.  Johnson)  that  though  these  verses  were  planned,  and  even 
begun,  when  I  was  sixteen  years  old,  I  never  could  find  time  to 
make  an  end  of  them  before  I  was  sixty-eight  V 

1  He   had   perhaps   shown    these       finished,  to  Miss  Boothby  in  1755  > 

verses,  or  as  many  of  them  as  were      for  writing  to  him  in  that  year  she 

VOL.  I.  N  This 


178 


Anecdotes. 


This  facility  of  writing,  and  this  dilatoriness  ever  to  write, 
Mr.  Johnson  always  retained,  from  the  days  that  he  lay  a-bed 
and  dictated  his  first  publication  l  to  Mr.  Hector,  who  acted  as 
his  amanuensis,  to  the  moment  he  made  me  copy  out  those 
variations  in  Pope's  Homer  which  are  printed  in  the  Poets' 
Lives 2 :  '  And  now  (said  he,  when  I  had  finished  it  for  him) 
I  fear  not  Mr.  Nichols3  of  a  pin.' — The  fine  Rambler  on  the 
subject  of  Procrastination  was  hastily  composed,  as  I  have 
heard,  in  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  parlour,  while  the  boy  waited 
to  carry  it  to  press 4 :  and  numberless  are  the  instances  of 
his  writing  under  immediate  pressure  of  importunity  or  dis 
tress.  He  told  me  that  the  character  of  Sober s  in  the  Idler, 
was  by  himself  intended  as  his  own  portrait ;  and  that  he  had 
his  own  outset  into  life  in  his  eye  when  he  wrote  the  eastern 
story  of  Gelaleddin  6.  Of  the  allegorical  papers  in  the  Rambler, 
Labour  and  Rest 7  was  his  favourite ;  but  Serotinus,  the  man 


says : — *  I  will  tell  you  some  time 
what  I  think  of  Anacreon.'  An 
Account  of  the  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
&c.,  1805,  p.  109. 

1  His  translation  of  Lobo's  Abys 
sinia.    Life,  i.  86. 

2  Works,  viii.  256. 

3  The  printer  of  the  Lives.    Life, 
iv.  36.     The  Life  of  Pope  was  one  of 
the  last  to  be  written.     Letters,  ii. 
196,  n.  5.    In  the  proof  of  the  Life 
of  Johnson   I   found   'the  following 
sentence  in  one  of  Johnson's  letters 
to   Mrs.  Thrale,   "I   have    finished 
Prior ;   so  a  fig  for  Mr.  Nichols." ' 
Boswell  struck  it  out. 

4  The  Rambler  on  Procrastination, 
No.  134,  was  published  on  June  29, 
1751.      Reynolds    left   England   for 
Italy  in  May,  1749,  an^  returned  in 
October,  1752  (Taylor's  Reynolds,  i. 
35,  87),  seven  months  after  the  last 
Rambler  had  appeared. 

For  Johnson's  hasty  composition, 
see  Life,  i.  203,  331  ;  iii.  42.  He 
wrote  part  of  the  Lives  of  the  Poets 
in  the  parlour  at  Stow  Hill,  'sur 
rounded  by  five  or  six  ladies  engaged 


in  work  or  conversation.'  Letters, 
ii.  46  n.  Miss  Boothby  wrote  to  him 
in  1754  : — '  You  can  write  amidst  the 
tattle  of  women,  because  your  atten 
tion  is  so  strong  to  sense  that  you 
are  deaf  to  sound.'  An  Account  of 
the  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  &c.,  1805, 
i.  80. 

5  Idler,  No.  31.  Life,  iii.  398,  n.  3. 

6  Ib.  No.    75.     Gelaleddin    is    a 
Persian    student     '  amiable    in    his 
manners  and  beautiful  in  his  form, 
of  boundless  curiosity,  incessant  dili 
gence,  and  irresistible  genius,  of  quick 
apprehension  and  tenacious  memory, 
accurate    without     narrowness    and 
eager  for  novelty  without  inconstancy. 
..."  I  will  instruct  the  modest,"  he 
said,  "  with  easy  gentleness,  and  re 
press  the  ostentatious  by  seasonable 
superciliousness."  .  .  .  He  was  some 
times  admitted  to  the  tables  of  the 
viziers,  where  he  exerted  his  wit  and 
diffused  his  knowledge;  but  he  ob 
served  that  where  by  endeavour  or 
accident  he  had  remarkably  excelled 
he  was  seldom  invited  a  second  time.' 

7  No.  33.     It  contains  a  passage 

who 


Anecdotes. 


who  returns  late  in  life  to  receive  honours  in  his  native  country, 
and  meets  with  mortification  instead  of  respect,  was  by  him 
considered  as  a  masterpiece  in  the  science  of  life  and  manners  r. 
The  character  of  Prospero  in  the  fourth  volume,  Garrick  took  to 
be  his 2 ;  and  I  have  heard  the  author  say,  that  he  never  forgave 
the  offence.  Sophron  was  likewise  a  picture  drawn  from 
reality3;  and  by  Gelid  us  the  philosopher,  he  meant  to  represent 
Mr.  Coulsori,  a  mathematician,  who  formerly  lived  at  Rochester4. 
The  man  immortalised  for  purring  like  a  cat  was,  as  he  told  me, 
one  Busby,  a  proctor  in  the  Commons5.  He  who  barked  so 
ingeniously,  and  then  called  the  drawer  to  drive  away  the  dog, 
was  father  to  Dr.  Salter  of  the  Charterhouse6.  He  who  sung 
a  song  and  by  correspondent  motions  of  his  arm  chalked  out 
a  giant  on  the  wall,  was  one  Richardson,  an  attorney7.  The 
letter  signed  Sunday,  was  written  by  Miss  Talbot 8 ;  and  he 


which  being,  I  suspect,  borrowed  by 
Rogers  suggested  to  Dickens,  as  he 
confessed,  in  his  Old  Curiosity  Shop, 
1  the  beautiful  thought  of  Nell's  grand 
father  wandering  about  after  her 
death  as  if  looking  for  her.'  Johnson 
describes  how  where  Rest  came, 
*  Nothing  was  seen  on  every  side  but 
multitudes  wandering  about  they 
knew  not  whither,  in  quest  they  knew 
not  of  what.'  Rogers  writes  in  his 
Italy ',  Ginevra  : — 

'  And  long  was  to  be  seen 
An  old  man  wandering  as  in  quest 

of  something, 
Something    he   could   not    find — he 

knew  not  what.' 

1  No.  165.     The  rich  man  describ 
ing  his  deliberations  about  his  return 
to  his  native  town  says  : — '  The  ac 
clamations  of  the  populace  I  purposed 
to  reward  with  six  hogsheads  of  ale 
and  a  roasted  ox,  and  then  recom 
mend  to   them  to   return   to    their 
work.' 

2  No.  200.    Life,  i.  216. 

3  Idler,  No.  57. 

4  Rambler,  No.  24  ;  Life,  i.  101. 


N 


5  Doctors'  Commons,  the  College 
of  Civilians  in  London  who  practised 
in  the  Ecclesiastical  Courts  and  the 
Court  of  Admiralty. 

6  Dr.  Salter's  father  belonged  to 
Johnson's  Ivy  Lane  Club.    Life,  i. 
191,  n.  5.    Hawkins  describes  him  as 
'  a  dignitary  of  the  Church  ;  he  was 
well-bred,    courteous    and    affable.' 
Hawkins's  Johnson,  p.  220. 

7  '  One  I  have  known  for  fifteen 
years  the  darling  of  a  weekly  club 
because    every    night,   precisely    at 
eleven,  he  begins  his  favourite  song, 
and  during  the   vocal    performance 
by  corresponding  motions  of  his  hand 
chalks   out   a  giant   upon  the  wall. 
Another  has  endeared  himself  to  a 
long  succession  of  acquaintances  by 
purring  like  a  cat  and  then  pretend 
ing  to  be  frighted ;   and  another  by 
yelping  like  a  hound  and  calling  to 
the  drawers  to  drive  out  the  dog.' 
Rambler,  No.  188. 

8  No.  30.     For  Miss  Talbot,  see 
Carter  and  Talbot  Correspondence, 
vol.  i.  Preface,  p.  6. 

2,  fancied 


180  Anecdotes. 


fancied  the  billets  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Rambler,  were  sent 
him  by  Miss  Mulso,  now  Mrs.  Chapone  *.  The  papers  contributed 
by  Mrs.  Carter 2,  had  much  of  his  esteem,  though  he  always 
blamed  me  for  preferring  the  letter  signed  Chariessa  to  the 
allegory,  where  religion  and  superstition  are  indeed  most 
masterly  delineated. 

When  Dr.  Johnson  read  his  own  satire,  in  which  the  life  of 
a  scholar  is  painted,  with  the  various  obstructions  thrown  in  his 
way  to  fortune  and  to  fame,  he  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  one 
day3:  the  family  and  Mr,  Scott  only  were  present,  who,  in 
a  jocose  way,  clapped  him  on  the  back,  and  said,  What's  all  this 
my  dear  Sir  ?  Why  you,  and  I,  and  Hercules,  you  know,  were  all 
troubled  with  melancholy.  As  there  are  many  gentlemen  of  the 
same  name,  I  should  say,  perhaps,  that  it  was  a  Mr.  Scott  who 
married  Miss  Robinson,  and  that  I  think  I  have  heard  Mr.  Thrale 
call  him  George  Lewis,  or  George  Augustus4,  I  have  forgot 
which.  He  was  a  very  large  man,  however,  and  made  out  the 
trumvirate  with  Johnson  and  Hercules  comically  enough.  The 
Doctor  was  so  delighted  at  his  odd  sally,  that  he  suddenly 
embraced  him,  and  the  subject  was  immediately  changed. 
I  never  saw  Mr.  Scott  but  that  once  in  my  life. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  liberal  enough  in  granting  literary  assistance 
to  others,  I  think ;  and  innumerable  are  the  prefaces,  sermons, 
lectures,  and  dedications  which  he  used  to  make  for  people  who 
begged  of  him  5.  Mr.  Murphy  related  in  his  and  my  hearing 

1  No.  10.     For  Mrs.  Chapone  see  «.  4.    Horace  Wai  pole  wrote  on  Nov. 
Life,  iv.  246.  19,  1750  (Letters,  ii.  232) : — 'There 

2  Nos.    44    and    100.     For    Mrs.  is  a  new  preceptor,  one  Scott,  recom- 
Carter  see  Life,  i.  122.  mended  by  Lord  Bolingbroke.'     See 

3  Vanity  of  Human    Wishes,  11.  also  ib.  p.  316. 

135-164.     'The  deep  and  pathetic  Miss    Robinson   was   Mrs.    Mon- 

morality   of  the   Vanity  of  Human  tagu's  sister.     See  post  in  Anecdotes 

Wishes'  says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  '  has  of  Hannah  More. 

often     extracted    tears    from    those  s  Boswell  quotes  this  in  the  Life, 

whose  eyes  wander  dry  over  pages  iv.  344,  in  contrast  with  Mrs.  Piozzi's 

professedly  sentimental.'  Scott's  Misc.  assertion  (post,  p.  279)  that '  Johnson 

Works,  ed.  1834,  iii.  264.  would  not  stir  a  finger  for  the  assis- 

4  George    Lewis   Scott,    who   had  tanceof  those  to  whom  he  was  willing 
been   sub-preceptor  to   George   III,  enough  to  give  advice,'  £c. 

when  Prince  of  Wales.    Life,  iii.  117, 

one 


Anecdotes.  181 


one  day,  and  he  did  not  deny  it,  that  when  Murphy  joked  him 
the  week  before  for  having  been  so  diligent  of  late  between 
Dodd's  sermon  and  Kelly's  prologue,  that  Dr.  Johnson  replied, 
'  Why,  Sir,  when  they  come  to  me  with  a  dead  stay-maker  and 
a  dying  parson,  what  can  a  man  do1?'  He  said,  however,  that 
'  he  hated  to  give  away  literary  performances,  or  even  to  sell 
them  too  cheaply2:  the  next  generation  shall  not  accuse  me 
(added  he)  of  beating  down  the  price  of  literature :  one  hates, 
besides,  ever  to  give  that  which  one  has  been  accustomed  to  sell ; 
would  not  you,  Sir  (turning  to  Mr.  Thrale),  rather  give  away 
money  than  porter  ?  ' 

Mr.  Johnson  had  never,  by  his  own  account,  been  a  close 
student 3,  and  used  to  advise  young  people  never  to  be  without 
a  book  in  their  pocket,  to  be  read  at  bye-times  when  they  had 
nothing  else  to  do.  '  It  has  been  by  that  means  (said  he  to 
a  boy  at  our  house  one  day)  that  all  my  knowledge  has  been 
gained,  except  what  I  have  picked  up  by  running  about  the 
world  with  my  wits  ready  to  observe,  and  my  tongue  ready 
to  talk 4.  A  man  is  seldom  in  a  humour  to  unlock  his  book-case, 

1  In  1777  he  wrote  a  Prologue  to      given  it.'    Ib.  iii.  in,  n.  i.     See  also 
A  Word  to  the  Wise  by  Hugh  Kelly      ib.  i.  341,  n.  3. 

— a  play  which  had  been  damned  in  3  '  Sir,  in  my  early  years  I  read 

1770,  but  was  revived  for  one  night  very  hard.     It  is  a  sad  reflection,  but 

for  the  benefit  of  the  author's  widow  a  true  one,  that  I  knew  almost  as 

and  children.    Life,  iii.  113.     Kelly  much  at  eighteen  as  I  do  now.'    Ib. 

served  his  apprenticeship  to  a  Dublin  i.  445.     *  I  never  knew  a  man  who 

stay-maker.     Chalmers's  Biog.  Diet.  studied    hard.     I    conclude    indeed 

xix.  292.  from  the  effects  that  some  men  have 

The  same  summer  Johnson  wrote  studied  hard,  as  Bentley  and  Clarke.' 

The  Convict's  Address  to  his  tmhappy  Ib.  i.  71.     He  told  the  King  that  'he 

Brethren  for   Dr.    Dodd,  who   was  had  read  a  great  deal  in  the  early 

under  sentence  of  death.  Life,\\\.  141.  part  of  his  life,  but  having  fallen  into 

2  'No  man  but  a  blockhead,'  he  ill-health  he  had  not  been  able  to 
said,  '  ever  wrote  except  for  money.'  read  much   compared  with   others.' 
Ib.   iii.   19.     He  often  sold  his  own  Ib.  ii.  36.    Nevertheless  Adam  Smith 
works  far    too    cheaply.      For    the  told   Boswell    that   '  Johnson    knew 
Lives  of  the  Poets  he  asked  only  two  more  books  than  any  man   alive.' 
hundred  guineas.     'Had  he  asked  Ib.  i.  71. 

one  thousand,  or  even  fifteen  hundred  4  'He  said  to  me,'  writes  Boswell, 
guineas,'  writes  Malone,  '  the  book-  '  that  before  he  wrote  the  Rambler 
sellers  would  doubtless  have  readily  he  had  been  "  running  about  the 

set 


182 


Anecdotes. 


set  his  desk  in  order,  and  betake  himself  to  serious  study  ;  but 
a  retentive  memory  will  do  something,  and  a  fellow  shall  have 
strange  credit  given  him,  if  he  can  but  recollect  striking  passages 
from  different  books,  keep  the  authors  separate  in  his  head,  and 
bring  his  stock  of  knowledge  artfully  into  play * :  How  else 
(added  he)  do  the  gamesters 2  manage  when  they  play  for  more 
money  than  they  are  worth?'  His  Dictionary,  however,  could 
not,  one  would  think,  have  been  written  by  running  up  and 
down  ;  but  he  really  did  not  consider  it  as  a  great  performance ; 
and  used  to  say, '  that  he  might  have  done  it  easily  in  two  years, 
had  not  his  health  received  several  shocks  during  the  time  V 

When  Mr.  Thrale,  in  consequence  of  this  declaration,  teized 
him  in  the  year  1 768  to  give  a  new  edition  of  it,  because  (said 
he)  there  are  four  or  five  gross  faults4:  'Alas,  Sir  (replied 


world,"  as  he  expressed  it,  more 
almost  than  any  body.'  Life,  i.  215. 
A  writer  in  the  Monthly  Review, 
N.  S.  xx.  p.  21,  who  had  known 
Johnson,  says  :— '  He  always  pre 
ferred  conversation  to  reading,  though 
it  were  with  the  lowest  mechanics ; 
and  he  constantly  listened  to  pro 
fessional  men  with  respect.  His  dis 
putes  were  chiefly  with  those  pre 
tenders  to  that  knowledge  and  science 
of  which  he  was  himself  at  least 
equally  qualified  to  judge.'  Quoted 
in  Anderson's  Johnson,  ed.  1815,  p. 

475- 

1  It   was  by  this  method  that  at 
Fort   George    he    talked    with    the 
officers   of   granulating  gunpowder, 
*  and  made  a  very  good  figure  upon 
these  topicks.'    Life,  v.  124. 

2  Gamester  has  been    long    sup 
planted   by  gambler,   under    which 
word  Johnson  writes  in  his  Dictionary, 
'  a  cant  word  (I  suppose)  for  game 
and  gamester! 

3  He  told  Dr.  Adams  that  he  ex 
pected  to  do  it  in  three  years.     Ib.  i. 
1 86.     He  took  seven  or  eight.    We 


have  no  account  of  his  ill-health 
during  that  time.  His  wife's  long 
illness  and  death  came  in  the  midst, 
and  so  too  did  all  his  Ramblers. 

4  In  the  Scots  Magazine  for  1761, 
p.  693,  is  a  short  list  of  words  with 
the  following  heading : — *  A  Scotch 
gentleman  caused  a  friend  wait  of 
[sic]  Mr.  Johnson  with  a  list  of  words 
suspected  to  be  wrong  accented  in 
his  dictionary ;  and  was  favoured 
with  the  following  corrections  marked 
by  Mr.  Johnson's  own  hand.'  The 
errors  seem  to  have  been  most,  if 
not  all,  those  of  the  printer. 

When  Reynolds  asked  him  why 
he  had  not  in  his  second  edition 
corrected  a  certain  error,  he  replied, 
'  No,  they  made  so  much  of  it  that 
I  would  not  flatter  them  by  altering 
it.'  Life,  i.  293,  n.  2.  In  the  Abridge 
ment  which  he  made  himself  the 
erroneous  definition  of  pastern  re 
mains,  and  leeward  and  windward 
are  still  both  defined  as  towards  the 
wind.  In  Murray's  Johnsoniana, 
1836,  p.  467,  an  error  in  a  reference 
is  pointed  out  which  has  not  been 
Johnson 


Anecdotes. 


Johnson),  there  are  four  or  five  hundred  faults,  instead  of  four  or 
five ;  but  you  do  not  consider  that  it  would  take  me  up  three 
whole  months  labour,  and  when  the  time  was  expired,  the  work 
would  not  be  done.'  When  the  booksellers  set  him  about  it 
however  some  years  after,  he  went  cheerfully  to  the  business, 
said  he  was  well  paid,  and  that  they  deserved  to  have  it  done 
carefully x.  His  reply  to  the  person  who  complimented  him  on 
its  coming  out  first 2,  mentioning  the  ill  success  of  the  French  in 
a  similar  attempt,  is  well  known ;  and,  I  trust,  has  been  often 
recorded:  'Why,  what  would  you  expect,  dear  Sir  (said  he), 
from  fellows  that  eat  frogs3?'  I  have  however  often  thought 
Dr.  Johnson  more  free  than  prudent  in  professing  so  loudly  his 
little  skill  in  the  Greek  language 4 :  for  though  he  considered  it 
as  a  proof  of  a  narrow  mind  to  be  too  careful  of  literary  reputa 
tion,  yet  no  man  could  be  more  enraged  than  he,  if  an  enemy, 
taking  advantage  of  this  confession,  twitted  him  with  his 
ignorance  ;  and  I  remember  when  the  king  of  Denmark  was  in 
England  5,  one  of  his  noblemen  was  brought  by  Mr.  Colman 6 


corrected  even  in  Todd's  edition. 
1  It  occurs  in  definition  13  of  the 
verb  To  sit — *  Asses  are  ye  that  sit 
in  judgment,'  Judges,  v.  10.  The 
verse  is  :— "  Speak,  ye  that  ride  on 
white  asses,  ye  that  sit  in  judgment, 
and  walk  by  the  way." ' 

1  It  was  published  in  1773.     Life, 
ii.  203.     On  March  4  of  that  year  he 
wrote  of  it : — '  I  have  mended  some 
faults,  but  added  little  to  its  useful 
ness.'    Ib.  p.  209.     I  cannot  account 
for  the  following  advertisement  which 
I  found  in  the  London  Chronicle  for 
Feb.  13-15,  1776.     'A  New  edition 
revised  by  the  Author.     This  day 
was  published  in  2  vols.  folio,  price 
^4.  10,  bound,  the  fourth  edition  of 
Mr.  Samuel  Johnson's  Dictionary! 

2  Mrs.  Piozzi  means  of  course  '  who 
complimented  him  when  it  first  came 
out.' 

3  When,  on  Johnson's  undertaking 
to  finish   the    Dictionary  in    three 


years,  Dr.  Adams  pointed  out  that 
'the  French  Academy,  which  con 
sists  of  forty  members,  took  forty 
years  to  compile  their  Dictionary? 
he  replied :— « Sir,  thus  it  is.  This  is 
the  proportion.  Let  me  see  ;  forty 
times  forty  is  sixteen  hundred.  As 
three  to  sixteen  hundred,  so  is  the 
proportion  of  an  Englishman  to  a 
Frenchman.'  Life,  i.  186. 

4  Ib.  iv.  384. 

5  In  August,  1768.     Horace  Wai- 
pole    wrote     on    the    l6th    of   that 
month  : — '  This  great  King  is  a  very 
little  one;    not  ugly,  nor  ill-made. 
He   has   the    sublime    strut   of  his 
grandfather  [George  II]  or  of  a  cock- 
sparrow  ;  and  the  divine  white  eyes 
of  all  his  family  by  the  mother's  side.' 
Walpole's  Letters,  v.  122. 

6  George  Colman  was  to  be  Pro 
fessor  of  Latin  in  the  College  which 
the  Literary  Club  was  to  set  up  in 
St.  Andrews.    Life,  v.  108. 

to 


184  Anecdotes. 


to  see  Dr.  Johnson  at  our  country-house  ;  and  having  heard,  he 
said,  that  he  was  not  famous  for  Greek  literature,  attacked  him 
on  the  weak  side ;  politely  adding,  that  he  chose  that  conversa 
tion  on  purpose  to  favour  himself.  Our  Doctor,  however,  dis 
played  so  copious,  so  compendious  a  knowledge  of  authors, 
books,  and  every  branch  of  learning  in  that  language,  that  the 
gentleman  appeared  astonished.  When  he  was  gone  home  (says 
Johnson),  '  Now  for  all  this  triumph,  I  may  thank  Thrale's 
Xenophon  here,  as,  I  think,  excepting  that  one>  I  have  not 
looked  in  a  Greek  book  these  ten  years  ;  but  see  what  haste  my 
dear  friends  were  all  in  (continued  he)  to  tell  this  poor  innocent 
foreigner  that  I  knew  nothing  of  Greek !  Oh,  no,  he  knows 
nothing  of  Greek  ! '  with  a  loud  burst  of  laughing. 

When  Davies  printed  the  Fugitive  Pieces  without  his  know 
ledge  or  consent '  ;  How,  said  I,  would  Pope  have  raved,  had  he 
been  served  so  ?  *  We  should  never  (replied  he)  have  heard  the 
last  on't,  to  be  sure  ;  but  then  Pope  was  a  narrow  man :  I  will 
however  (added  he)  storm  and  bluster  myself  a  little  this  time  ' ; 
— so  went  to  London  in  all  the  wrath  he  could  muster  up.  At 
his  return  I  asked  how  the  affair  ended :  '  Why  (said  he),  I  was 
a  fierce  fellow,  and  pretended  to  be  very  angry,  and  Thomas  was 
a  good-natured  fellow,  and  pretended  to  be  very  sorry :  so  there 
the  matter  ended  :  I  believe  the  dog  loves  me  dearly.  Mr.  Thrale 
(turning  to  my  husband),  what  shall  you  and  I  do  that  is  good 
for  Tom  Davies  ?  We  will  do  something  for  him,  to  be  sure  V 

Of  Pope  as  a  writer  he  had  the  highest  opinion,  and  once 
when  a  lady  at  our  house  talked  of  his  preface  to  Shakespeare 

1  In  Johnson's  absence  in  Scotland  Ib.  iii.  223.     The  Rev.  John  Hussey 
Davies  '  published  two  volumes,  en-  has  the  following  manuscript   mar- 
titled    Miscellaneous    and  Fugitive  ginal  note  on  this  passage  :— '  About 
Pieces ',  which  he   advertised  in  the  this  time  I  met  poor  Davies  in  the 
newspapers  "  By  the  Authour  of  the  street,  and  enquiring  earnestly  after 
Rambler."  '     Life,  ii.  270.  our  common  friend,  Doctor  Johnson 

2  '  Tom  Davies  had  now  unfortun-  (for  I  had  been  absent  from  Town 
ately   failed    in    his    circumstances,  four  months),  Davies  burst  into  tears 
and  was  much  indebted  to  Dr.  John-  and  replied,  "  God  for  ever  bless  him. 
son's  kindness  for  obtaining  for  him  I  am  beholden  to  that  good  man  for 
many  alleviations   of    his   distress.'  the  bread  I  eat  and  the  bed  I  lie  on." ' 

as 


Anecdotes.  185 


as  superior  to  Pope's :  1 1  fear  not,  Madam  (said  he),  the  little 
fellow  has  done  wonders  V  His  superior  reverence  of  Dryden 
notwithstanding  still  appeared  in  his  talk  as  in  his  writings 2 ; 
and  when  some  one  mentioned  the  ridicule  thrown  on  him  in 
the  Rehearsal,  as  having  hurt  his  general  character  as  an  author : 
'  On  the  contrary  (says  Mr.  Johnson),  the  greatness  of  Dryden's 
reputation  is  now  the  only  principle  of  vitality  which  keeps  the 
duke  of  Buckingham's  play  from  putrefaction3.' 

It  was  not  very  easy  however  for  people  not  quite  intimate 
with  Dr.  Johnson,  to  get  exactly  his  opinion  of  a  writer's  merit, 
as  he  would  now  and  then  divert  himself  by  confounding  those 
who  thought  themselves  obliged  to  say  to-morrow  what  he  had 
said  yesterday ;  and  even  Garrick,  who  ought  to  have  been  better 
acquainted  with  his  tricks,  professed  himself  mortified,  that  one 
time  when  he  was  extolling  Dryden  in  a  rapture  that  I  suppose 
disgusted  his  friend  4,  Mr.  Johnson  suddenly  challenged  him  to 
produce  twenty  lines  in  a  series  that  would  not  disgrace  the  poet 
and  his  admirer 5.  Garrick  produced  a  passage  that  he  had  once 
heard  the  Doctor  commend,  in  which  he  now  found,  if  I  re 
member  rightly,  sixteen  faults,  and  made  Garrick  look  silly  at 
his  own  table.  When  I  told  Mr.  Johnson  the  story,  '  Why,  what 

1  '  Pope's  preface,'  Johnson  says,  For  The  Rehearsal  see  Johnson's 
'  every  editor  has  an  interest  to  sup-  Works,  vii.  272,  and  Life,  ii.  168. 
press  but  that   every   reader  would  4  *  I  do  not  know  for  certain,'  said 
demand  its  insertion.'   Works,  v.  137.  Mrs.  Thrale,  'what  will  please  Dr. 
also  ib.  viii.  272.  Johnson  ;  but  I  know  for  certain  that 

2  For   his   estimate   of  Pope  and  it  will  displease  him  to  praise  any- 
Dryden  see  Life,  ii.  5,  85,  and  Works,  thing,  even  what  he  likes,  extrava- 
viii.  325.  gantly.'     Life,  iii.  225.     One  day  he 

3  '  Talking  of  the  Comedy  of  The  said  to  her  : — '  I  know  nobody  who 
Rehearsal,  he  said  : — "  It  has  not  wit  blasts  by  praise  as  you  do ;  for  when- 
enough  to  keep  it  sweet."     This  was  ever    there    is    exaggerated     praise 
easy ;    he  therefore  caught  himself,  everybody  is  set  against  a  character.' 
and  pronounced  a  more  round  sen-  Ib.  iv.  81. 

tence;  "It  has  not  vitality  enough  to  5  'Dryden's  faults  of  negligence 

preserve  it  from  putrefaction."  '  Life,  are  beyond  recital.     Such  is  the  un- 

iv.  320.  evenness  of  his  compositions  that  ten 

South   says   in  his   Sermons,    iii.  lines  are  seldom  found  together  with- 

398  : — 'They  have  souls  so  dull  and  out  something  of  which  the  reader  is 

stupid  as  to  serve  for  little  else  but  to  ashamed.'     Works,  vii.  344. 
keep  their  bodies  from  putrefaction.' 

a  monkey 


i86 


Anecdotes. 


a  monkey  was  David  now  (says  he),  to  tell  of  his  own  disgrace ! ' 
And  in  the  course  of  that  hour's  chat  he  told  me,  how  he  used  to 
teize  Garrick  by  commendations  of  the  tomb  scene  in  Congreve's 
Mourning  Bride,  protesting  that  Shakespeare  had  in  the  same 
line  of  excellence  nothing  as  good :  '  All  which  is  strictly  true 
(said  he) ;  but  that  is  no  reason  for  supposing  Congreve  is  to 
stand  in  competition  with  Shakespeare I :  these  fellows  know  not 
how  to  blame,  nor  how  to  commend.'  I  forced  him  one  day,  in 
a  similar  humour,  to  prefer  Young's  description  of  Night  to  the 
so  much  admired  ones  of  Dryden  and  Shakespeare,  as  more 
forcible,  and  more  general.  Every  reader  is  not  either  a  lover 
or  a  tyrant,  but  every  reader  is  interested  when  he  hears  that 

Creation  sleeps  ;   'tis  as  the  general  pulse 
Of  life  stood  still,  and  nature  made  a  pause ; 
An  awful  pause — prophetic  of  its  end2. 


1  Life,  ii.  85,  96.     *  The  noble  pas 
sage  which  Johnson,  both  in  writing 
and  in  conversation,  extolled  above 
any  other  in  the  English  drama  has 
suffered  greatly  in  the  public  estima 
tion   from   the  extravagance   of  his 
praise.'    Macaulay's  Essays,  ed.  1843, 
iii.  294. 

2  '  her  end.'  Night  Thoughts,  i.  23. 
1  All  things  are  hush'd,  as  Nature's 

self  lay  dead, 
The   Mountains  seem  to  nod  their 

drowsy  head ; 
The  little    Birds    in    dreams    their 

Songs  repeat, 
And  sleeping  Flowers  beneath   the 

night- dew  sweat ; 
Ev'n  Lust  and  Envy  sleep,  yet  Love 

denies 
Rest  to  my  Soul  and  slumber  to  my 

Eyes.' 

Dryden,  The  Indian  Emperoiir,  Act 
iii.  sc.  2. 

'  Now  o'er  the  one  half-world 
Nature    seems    dead,    and    wicked 

dreams  abuse 
The  curtain'd  sleep  ;  now  witchcraft 

celebrates 


Pale  Hecate's  offerings,  and  wither'd 

murder, 

Alarum'd  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf. 
Whose  howl 's  his  watch,  thus  with 

his  stealthy  pace, 
With    Tarquin's    ravishing    strides, 

towards  his  design 
Moves  like  a  ghost.' 

Macbeth,  ii.  i.  49. 

Johnson  in  a  note  on  this  last  passage 
says: — 'Night  is  described  by  two 
great  poets,  but  one  describes  a 
night  of  quiet,  the  other  of  perturba 
tion.  In  the  night  of  Dryden  all  the 
disturbers  of  the  world  are  laid 
asleep  ;  in  that  of  Shakespeare  no 
thing  but  sorcery,  lust  and  murder  is 
awake.  He  that  reads  Dryden  finds 
himself  lull'd  with  serenity,  and  dis 
posed  to  solitude  and  contemplation. 
He  that  peruses  Shakespeare  looks 
round  alarmed,  and  starts  to  find 
himself  alone.  One  is  the  night  of  a 
lover,  the  other  of  a  murderer.' 

In  his  Life  of  Dryden  he  says  of 
that  poet's  description  of  night  that 
'  Rymer  has  made  it  famous  by  pre 
ferring  it  to  those  of  all  other  poets.' 

'This 


Anecdotes.  187 


*  This  (said  he)  is  true  ;  but  remember  that  taking  the  com 
positions  of  Young  in  general,  they  are  but  like  bright  stepping- 
stones  over  a  miry  road  :  Young  froths,  and  foams,  and  bubbles 
sometimes  very  vigorously  ;  but  we  must  not  compare  the  noise 
made  by  your  tea-kettle  here  with  the  roaring  of  the  ocean  V 

Somebody  was  praising  Corneille  one  day  in  opposition  to 
Shakespeare  :  *  Corneille  is  to  Shakespeare  (replied  Mr.  Johnson) 
as  a  clipped  hedge  is  to  a  forest.'  When  we  talked  of  Steele's 
Essays,  '  They  are  too  thin  (says  our  Critic)  for  an  Englishman's 
taste  :  mere  superficial  observations  on  life  and  manners,  without 
erudition  enough  to  make  them  keep,  like  the  light  French  wines, 
which  turn  sour  with  standing  a  while  for  want  of  body,  as  we 
call  it.' 

Of  a  much  admired  poem,  when  extolled  as  beautiful  (he 
replied),  'That  it  had  indeed  the  beauty  of  a  bubble:  the 
colours  are  gay  (said  he),  but  the  substance  slight.'  Of  James 
Harris's  Dedication  to  his  Hermes  I  have  heard  him  observe, 
that,  though  but  fourteen  lines  long,  there  were  six  grammatical 
faults  in  it 2.  A  friend  was  praising  the  style  of  Dr.  Swift ; 
Mr.  Johnson  did  not  find  himself  in  the  humour  to  agree  with 

Works,  vii.   249.      'Rymer  at  that  to  guide  him,  are  throughout  false 

time  [1694],' says  Dr.  Warton, 'gave  and  contradictory.    The    verses   of 

the  Law  to  all  writers,  and  was  ap-  Uryden,  once  highly  celebrated,  are 

pealed  to  as  a  supreme  judge  of  all  forgotten  ;  those  of  Pope  still  retain 

works  of  Taste  and  Genius.'    Pope's  their  hold  upon  public  estimation.' 

Works,  ed.  1822,  v.  173.  Wordsworth's   Works,  ed.  1857,  vi. 

Wordsworth,  writing  of '  the  poetry  370. 

of  the  period  intervening   between  x  'Dr.  Johnson    said   that    there 

the  publication  of  the  Paradise  Lost  were   very   fine  things    in   Young's 

and  the  Seasons,'  says  :— *  To  what  Night  Thoughts,  though  you  could 

a  low  state  knowledge  of  the  most  not  find  twenty  lines  together  without 

obvious  and  important  phenomena  some  extravagance.'     Life,  v.  269. 

had  sunk  is  evident  from  the  style  in  2  '  I  looked   into   Harris's  book,' 

which  Dryden  has  executed  a  de-  said  Johnson,  'and  thought  he  did 

scription  of  Night    in    one    of   his  not  understand  his  own  system.'    Id. 

tragedies,  and  Pope  his  translation  iii.  245.     The  Dedication  as  given  in 

of  the  celebrated  moonlight  scene  in  the  second  edition  is  more  than  thirty 

the  Iliad.  .  .  .  Dryden's  lines   are  lines   long.    The    chief   fault    in   it 

vague,    bombastic    and     senseless  ;  seems  to  be  the  mixed  use  of  '  Your 

those  of  Pope,  though  he  had  Homer  Lordship  '  and  '  you.' 

him 


i88 


Anecdotes. 


him  x :  the  critic  was  driven  from  one  of  his  performances  to  the 
other.  At  length  you  must  allow  me,  said  the  gentleman,  that 
there  are  strong  facts  in  the  account  of  the  Four  last  Years  of 
Queen  Anne :  '  Yes  surely  Sir  (replies  Johnson),  and  so  there  are 
in  the  Ordinary  of  Newgate's  account 2.'  This  was  like  the  story 
which  Mr.  Murphy  tells,  and  Johnson  always  acknowledged: 
How  Dr.  Rose  of  Chiswick,  contending  for  the  preference  of 
Scotch  writers  over  the  English,  after  having  set  up  his  authors 
like  nine-pins,  while  the  Doctor  kept  bowling  them  down  again  ; 
at  last,  to  make  sure  of  victory,  he  named  Ferguson  upon  Civil 
Society,  and  praised  the  book  for  being  written  in  a  new  manner3. 
*  I  do  not  (says  Johnson)  perceive  the  value  of  this  new  manner ; 
it  is  only  like  Buckinger,  who  had  no  hands,  and  so  wrote  with 
his  feet  V  Of  a  modern  Martial 5  when  it  came  out :  '  There  are 
in  these  verses  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  too  much  folly  for  madness, 
I  think,  and  too  much  madness  for  folly.'  If,  however,  Mr.  John 
son  lamented,  that  the  nearer  he  approached  to  his  own  times, 
the  more  enemies  he  should  make,  by  telling  biographical  truths 


1  For  Johnson's  opinion  of  Swift's 
style  see  Life,  ii.  191,  and  Works, 
viii.  220. 

a '  "  Surely,  Sir,  (said  Dr.  Douglas,) 
you  must  allow  it  has  strong  facts." 
JOHNSON  :  **  Why  yes,  Sir ;  but  what 
is  that  to  the  merit  of  the  composi 
tion  ?  In  the  Sessions-paper  of  the 
Old  Bailey  there  are  strong  facts. 
Housebreaking  is  a  strong  fact; 
robbery  is  a  strong  fact ;  and  murder 
is  a  mighty  strong  fact  ;  but  is  great 
praise  due  to  the  historian  of  those 
strong  facts  ?  No,  Sir.  Swift  has 
told  what  he  had  to  tell  distinctly 
enough,  but  that  is  all.  He  had 
to  count  ten,  and  he  has  counted  it 
right."  '  Life,  ii.  65. 

3  For  Dr.  Rose  see  Letters,  ii.  325, 
n.  4,  and  for  '  an  imaginary  victory ' 
obtained  by  him  over  Johnson,  Life, 
iv.  1 68  «. 

Of  Dr.  Adam  Fergusson's  Essay 
on  the  History  of  Civil  Society  Gray 


says  : — '  His  love  of  Montesquieu  and 
Tacitus  has  led  him  into  a  manner 
of  writing  too  short-winded  and  sen 
tentious.'  Mason's  Gray,  1807,  ii. 
223.  See  also  Life,  v.  42,  n.  I,  and 
Bentham's  Works,  x.  64. 

4  Horace    Walpole     describes     a 
paper  as  being  '  written  in  a  hand  as 
small  as  Buckinger's,  who  used  to 
write  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  the  com 
pass   of  a   silver  penny.'     P.  Cun 
ningham,  in  a  note  on  this,  says  : — 
'  Matthew    Buckinger,    born     1674, 
without   hands   or  feet,   died    1722. 
There  is  a  print  of  him  drawn  and 
written  by  himself,  with  the  book  of 
Psalms  engraved  on  the  curls  of  his 
large    flowing    periwig.'     Walpole's 
Letters,  iv.  159. 

5  By    James    Elphinston.       *  His 
brother-in-law,  Strahan,  sent  him  a 
subscription  of  fifty  pounds,  and  said 
he  would  send  him  fifty  more,  if  he 
would  not  publish.'     Life,  iii.  258. 

in 


Anecdotes.  189 


in  his  Lives  of  the  later  Poets  *,  what  may  I  not  apprehend,  who, 
if  I  relate  anecdotes  of  Mr.  Johnson,  am  obliged  to  repeat  ex 
pressions  of  severity,  and  sentences  of  contempt  ?  Let  me  at 
least  soften  them  a  little,  by  saying,  that  he  did  not  hate  the 
persons  he  treated  with  roughness,  or  despise  them  whom  he 
drove  from  him  by  apparent  scorn.  He  really  loved  and  re 
spected  many  whom  he  would  not  suffer  to  love  him.  And 
when  he  related  to  me  a  short  dialogue  that  passed  between 
himself  and  a  writer  of  the  first  eminence  in  the  world,  when  he 
was  in  Scotland,  I  was  shocked  to  think  how  he  must  have 

disgusted  him.     Dr. asked  me  (said  he)  why  I  did  not  join 

in  their  public  worship  when  among  them  ?  for  (said  he)  I  went 
to  your  churches  often  when  in  England.  *  So  (replied  Johnson) 
I  have  read  that  the  Siamese  sent  ambassadors  to  Louis  Quatorze, 
but  I  never  heard  that  the  king  of  France  thought  it  worth  his 
while  to  send  ambassadors  from  his  court  to  that  of  Stam2.' 
He  was  no  gentler  with  myself,  or  those  for  whom  I  had  the 
greatest  regard.  When  I  one  day  lamented  the  loss  of  a  first 
cousin  killed  in  America — '  Prithee,  my  dear  (said  he),  have  done 
with  canting :  how  would  the  world  be  worse  for  it,  I  may  ask,  if 
all  your  relations  were  at  once  spitted  like  larks,  and  roasted  for 
Presto's  supper 3  ?  '  Presto  was  the  dog  that  lay  under  the  table 

1  '  The  necessity  of  complying  with      Life,  iii.  336.     For  the  King  of  Siam 
times,  and  of  sparing  persons,  is  the      see  Voltaire's  Sihle  de  Louis  XIV, 
great  impediment  of  biography. .  .  .      ch.  xiv. 

What  is  known  can  seldom  be  im-  3  For    Baretti's   account   of  what 

mediately  told  ;  and  when  it  might  was  said    see    Life,   iv.    347 ;    also 

be  told,  it  is  no  longer  known.  .  .  .  Prior's    Malone,   p.   398.      For  the 

As  the  process  of  these  narratives  is  name  Presto  see  Letters,  i.  151,  n.  2. 

now  bringing  me  among  my  con-  The  dog  is  mentioned  in  the  follow- 

temporaries,  I  begin  to  feel  myself  ing  anecdote  told  by  Baretti  of  '  poor 

0  walking  upon  ashes  under  which  little  Harry  Thrale,  some  months  be- 

the   fire   is  not  extinguished,"   and  fore  the  boy  died.'     ' "  Harry,"  said 

coming  to  the  time  of  which  it  will  his  father  to  him  on  entering  the 

be  proper  rather  to  say  "  nothing  that  room,  "  are  you  listening  to  what  the 

is    false,   than    all    that    is    true." '  Doctor  and  mamma    are  about  ? " 

Works,  vii.  444.  "  Yes,    papa,"    answered    the    boy. 

2  It  was  at  Allan  Ramsay's  house  "And,"   quoth   Mr.   Thrale,    "what 
in   London,   more  than   four   years  are  they  saying  ?  "     "  They  are  dis- 
after  Johnson's  tour  in  Scotland,  that  puting,"  replied  Harry;  "but  mamma 
this   '  short   dialogue    passed.'     The  has  just  such  a  chance  against  Dr. 
eminent  writer  was  Dr.  Robertson.  Johnson  as  Presto  would  have  if  he 

while 


190 


Anecdotes. 


while  we  talked. — When  we  went  into  Wales  together,  and  spent 
some  time  at  Sir  Robert  Cotton's  at  Lleweny x,  one  day  at  dinner 
I  meant  to  please  Mr.  Johnson  particularly  with  a  dish  of  very 
young  peas.  Are  not  they  charming  ?  said  I  to  him,  while  he 
was  eating  them. — '  Perhaps  (said  he)  they  would  be  so — to 
a  pig2.'  I  only  instance  these  replies,  to  excuse  my  mentioning 
those  he  made  to  others. 


When  a  well-known  author3  published  his  poems  in  the  year 
1777.*  Such  a  one's  verses  are  come  out,  said  I:  'Yes  (replied 
Johnson),  and  this  frost  has  struck  them  in  again.  Here  are 
some  lines  I  have  written  to  ridicule  them  :  but  remember  that 
I  love  the  fellow  dearly,  now — for  all  I  laugh  at  him 4. 

Wheresoe'er  I  turn  my  view, 
All  is  strange,  yet  nothing  new: 
Endless  labour  all  along, 
Endless  labour  to  be  wrong; 
Phrase  that  Time  has  flung  away; 
Uncouth  words  in  disarray, 
Trick'd  in  antique  ruff  and  bonnet, 
Ode,  and  elegy,  and  sonnet.' 


were  to  fight  Dash."  Dash  was  a 
large  dog,  and  Presto  but  a  little 
one.  The  laugh  this  innocent  obser 
vation  produced  was  so  very  loud 
and  hearty  that  Madam,  unable  to 
stand  it,  quitted  the  room  in  such 
a  mood  as  was  still  more  laughable 
than  the  boy's  pertinent  remark, 
though  she  muttered,  "  it  was  very 
impertinent." '  Croker's  fioswell, 
ed.  1844,  x.  37. 

1  Life,  v.  435. 

2  In  a  marginal  note  on  this  Mrs. 
Piozzi    writes  : — 'meaning    because 
they  were  too   little   boiled.'     Hay- 
ward's  Piozzi,  ii.  295. 

3  Thomas  Warton,  who  published 
a  volume  of  poems   in    1777.      On 
Sept.    1 8   of  that  year   Boswell   re 
cords  :— '  Dr.  Johnson  observed,  that 
a  gentleman  of  eminence  in  literature 
had  got  into  a  bad  style  of  poetry  of 


late.  "  He  puts,"  said  he,  "a  very 
common  thing  in  a  strange  dress, 
till  he  does  not  know  it  himself,  and 
thinks  other  people  do  not  know 
it.'"  Life,  iii.  158. 

Hume  in  his  History  of  England 
(ed.  1773,  v.  492,  vi.  195)  says  :  — 
*  Several  writers  of  late  have  amused 
themselves  in  copying  the  style  of 
Spenser;  and  no  imitation  has  been 
so  indifferent  as  not  to  bear  a  great 
resemblance  to  the  original :  His 
manner  is  so  peculiar  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  not  to  transfer  some  of  it 
into  the  copy  .  .  .  Raleigh  is  the  best 
model  of  that  ancient  style  which 
some  writers  would  affect  to  revive 
at  present.'  See  also  Beattie's  Essays 
on  Poetry  and  Music,  ed.  1 779,  p.  226. 

4  For  Warton's  estrangement, 
which  'Johnson  lamented  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,'  see  Life,  i.  270,  n.  i. 

When 


Anecdotes. 


191 


When  he  parodied  the  verses  of  another  eminent  writer x,  it 
was  done  with  more  provocation,  I  believe,  and  with  some  merry 
malice.  A  serious  translation  of  the  same  lines,  which  I  think 
are  from  Euripides,  may  be  found  in  Burney's  History  of  Music 2. 
— Here  are  the  burlesque  ones  : 

Err  shall  they  not,  who  resolute  explore 
Times  gloomy  backward  with  judicious  eyes ; 
And  scanning  right  the  practices  of  yore, 
Shall  deem  our  hoar  progenitors  unwise. 

They  to  the  dome  where  smoke  with  curling  play 
Announc'd  the  dinner  to  the  regions  round, 
Summon'd  the  singer  blythe,  and  harper  gay, 
And  aided  wine  with  dulcet-streaming  sound. 

The  better  use  of  notes,  or  sweet  or  shrill, 
By  quiv'ring  string,  or  modulated  wind; 
Trumpet  or  lyre — to  their  harsh  bosoms  chill, 
Admission  ne'er  had  sought,  or  could  not  find. 


1  Thomas    Gray.      Gray's    friend 
Bonstetten   was    walking  with   him 
about  the  year  1 769,  '  when  he  ex 
claimed  with  bitterness,  "  Look,  look, 
Bonstetten  !  the  great  bear !     There 
goes    Ursa    Major?"      This    was 
Johnson.    Gray  could  not  abide  him.' 
Sir     Egerton    Brydges's    Autobio 
graphy,  ii.  394. 

2  Medea,  11.  193-206. 

The  translation  in  Burney's  History 
of  Music,  1782,  ii.  340,  is  also  by 
Johnson.  See  Works,  i.  142  n.  It 
is  as  follows  :  — 

'  The  rites  deriv'd  from  ancient  days 
With      thoughtless     reverence     we 

praise, 

The  rites  that  taught  us  to  combine 
The  joys  of  music  and  of  wine, 
And  bad  the  feast  and  song  and  bowl 
O'erfill  the  saturated  soul ; 
But  n'er  the  Flute  or  Lyre  apply'd 
To  cheer  despair  or  soften  pride, 
Nor  calFd  them  to  the  gloomy  cells 
Where  Want  repines  and  Vengeance 
swells, 


Where  Hate  sits  musing  to  betray 

And  Murder  meditates  his  prey. 

To  dens  of  guilt  and  shades  of  care 

Ye  sons  of  Melody  repair, 

Nor  deign  the  festive  dome  to  cloy 

With  superfluities  of  joy. 

Ah,  little  needs  the  Minstrel's  pow'r 

To  speed  the  light  convivial  hour, 

The     board     with     varied    plenty 

crown'd 
May  spare  the  luxuries  of  sound.' 

A  General  History  of  Music,  by 
Charles  Burney. 

'  Mr.  Norgate,  the  publisher,  has  a 
specimen  of  Porson's  minute  writing, 
comprising  in  a  circle  of  an  inch  and 
a  half  in  diameter  the  Greek  verses 
on  music  from  the  Medea,  with  John 
son's  translation  of  them,  in  all  more 
than  220  words,  with  a  considerable 
space  left  blank  in  the  centre.  It  is 
written  on  vellum,  a  portion  of  a  leaf 
which  fell  from  the  Photius  which 
he  copied.'  J.  S.  Watson's  Porson, 
p.  422. 

Oh! 


I92 


Anecdotes. 


Oh!   send  them  to  the  sullen  mansions  dun, 
Her  baleful  eyes  where  Sorrow  rolls  around ; 
Where  gloom-enamour'd  Mischief  loves  to  dwell, 
And  Murder,  all  blood-bolter'd,  schemes  the  wound. 
When  cates  luxuriant  pile  the  spacious  dish, 
And  purple  nectar  glads  the  festive  hour; 
The  guest,  without  a  want,  without  a  wish, 
Can  yield  no  room  to  Music's  soothing  pow'r. 

Some  of  the  old  legendary  stories  put  in  verse  by  modern 
writers  provoked  him  to  caricature x  them  thus  one  day  at 
Streatham  ;  but  they  are  already  well-known,  I  am  sure. 

The  tender  infant,  meek  and  mild, 

Fell  down  upon  the  stone; 
The  nurse  took  up  the  squealing  child, 

But  still  the  child  squeal'd  on2. 

A  famous  ballad  also,  beginning  Rio  verde,  Rio  verde,  when 
I  commended  the  translation  of  it,  he  said  he  could  do  it  better 
himself — as  thus  : 

Glassy  water,  glassy  water, 
Down  whose  current  clear  and  strong, 
Chiefs  confus'd  in  mutual  slaughter, 
Moor  and  Christian  roll  along3. 


1  Caricature  is  not   in  Johnson's 
Dictionary. 

2  Wordsworth  says  of  the  imitators 
of  the  Reliques,   and  of  Johnson's 
attack  on   the   old    ballads  : — '  The 
critic  triumphed,  the  legendary  imi 
tators  were  deservedly  disregarded, 
and  as  undeservedly,  their  ill-imitated 
models   sank  in    this    country  into 
temporary  neglect ...  Dr.  Percy  was 
so  abashed  by  the  ridicule  flung  upon 
his  labours  .  .  .  that,  though  while 
he  was  writing  under  a  mask  he  had 
not  wanted  resolution  to  follow  his 
genius  into  the  regions  of  true  sim- 
p.icity  and  genuine  pathos —  .  .  .  yet 
when  he  appeared  in  his  own  person 
and  character   as  a  poetical  writer, 
he  adopted,  as   in   the   tale   of  the 
Hermit    of  Warkworth,  a    diction 
scarcely  in  any  one  of  its   features 
distinguishable  from  the  vague,  the 


glossy,  and  unfeeling  language  of 
his  day.'  Wordsworth's  Works,  ed. 
1857,  vi.  372. 

Percy  himself  described  his  Re- 
liques  as  '  such  a  strange  collection 
of  trash.'  Nichols's  Literary  History, 
vii.  577. 

Johnson  had  helped  Percy  in  the 
publication  of   the   Reliques.    Life, 
iii.  276,  n.  2  ;  Letters,  i.  89. 
3  '  Rio  verde,  rio  verde, 

Quanto  cuerpo  en  ti  se  bana 
De  Cristianos  y  de  Moros 

Muertos  por  la  dura  espada.' 
*  Gentle  river,  gentle  river, 
Lo,  thy  streams  are  stain 'd 

with  gore ! 

Many  a  brave  and  noble  captain 
Floats    along    thy    willow'd 

shore.' 

Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry, 
vol.  i.  Bk.  iii.  No.  16. 

But 


Anecdotes.  193 


But  Sir,  said  I,  this  is  not  ridiculous  at  all.  '  Why  no  (replied 
he),  why  should  I  always  write  ridiculously? — perhaps  because 
I  made  these  verses  to  imitate  such  a  one,  naming  him  : 

Hermit  hoar,  in  solemn  cell, 
Wearing  out  life's  evening  gray; 
Strike  thy  bosom,  sage!   and  tell 
What  is  bliss,  and  which  the  way? 
Thus  I  spoke,  and  speaking  sigh'd, 
Scarce  repress'd  the  starting  tear, 
When  the  hoary  Sage  reply'd, 
Come,  my  lad,  and  drink  some  beer1.' 

I  could  give  another  comical  instance  of  caricatura  imitation. 
Recollecting  some  day,  when  praising  these  verses  of  Lopez  de 
Vega, 

Se  a  quien  los  leones  vence 
Vence  una  muger  hermosa 
O  el  de  flaco  averguenqe 
O  ella  di  ser  mas  furiosa, 

more  than  he  thought  they  deserved,  Mr.  Johnson  instantly 
observed  *  that  they  were  founded  on  a  trivial  conceit ;  and  that 

conceit  ill-explained,  and  ill-expressed  beside. The  lady,  we 

all  know,  does  not  conquer  in  the  same  manner  as  the  lion  does : 
'Tis  a  mere  play  of  words  (added  he),  and  you  might  as  well  say, 
that 

If  the  man  who  turnips  cries, 

Cry  not  when  his  father  dies, 

'Tis  a  proof  that  he  had  rather 

Have  a  turnip  than  his  father.' 

And  this  humour  is  of  the  same  sort  with  which  he  answered  the 
friend  who  commended  the  following  line 2 : 

Who  rules  o'er  freemen  should  himself  be  free. 
'  To  be  sure  (said  Dr.  Johnson), 

Who  drives  fat  oxen  should  himself  be  fat.' 

1  Boswell   records  the  making  of  smiling,  '  both  to  avoid  a  sameness 

these  verses.    The  third  line  runs: —  with  the  epithet  in  the  first  line  and 

'  Smite  thy  bosom,'  &c.     *  BOSWELL.  to  describe  the  hermit  in  his  plea- 

"But  why  smite   his   bosom,  Sir?"  santry.'   Life,   iii.    159.      See    ib.   ii. 

JOHNSON.  "Why  to  shew  he  was  in  136,  n.  4,  for  another  parody, 
earnest"  (smiling).'    Hoary,  on  Bos-          2  In  Brooke's  Earl  of  Essex.    Life, 

well's  suggestion,  he   changed   into  iv.  312,  n.  5. 

VOL.  I.  O  This 


194  Anecdotes. 


This  readiness  of  finding  a  parallel,  or  making  one,  was  shewn  by 
him  perpetually  in  the  course  of  conversation. — When  the  French 
verses  of  a  certain  pantomime  were  quoted  thus, 

Je  suis  Cassandre  descendue  des  cieux, 

Pour  vous  fair  [sic]  entendre,  mesdames  et  messieurs, 

Que  je  suis  Cassandre  descendue  des  cieux j 

he  cried  out  gaily  and  suddenly,  almost  in  a  moment, 

'  I  am  Cassandra  come  down  from  the  sky, 
To  tell  each  by-stander  what  none  can  deny, 
That  I  am  Cassandra  come  down  from  the  sky.' 

The  pretty  Italian  verses  too.  at  the  end  of  Baretti's  book,  called 
'  Easy  Phraseology,'  he  did  all'  improvise,  in  the  same  manner : 

Viva  !   viva  la  padrona  ! 
Tutta  bella,  e  tutta  buona, 
La  padrona  e  itn  angiolella 
Tutta  buona  e  tutta  bella; 
Tutta  bella  e  tutta  buona; 
Viva  !  viva  la  padrona  / 

Long  may  live  my  lovely  Hetty1! 
Always  young  and  always  pretty, 
Always  pretty,  always  young, 
Live  my  lovely  Hetty  long ! 
Always  young  and  always  pretty ; 
Long  may  live  my  lovely  Hetty ! 

The  famous  distich  too,  of  an  Italian  improvisator  e,  who,  when 
the  duke  of  Modena  ran  away  from  the  comet  in  the  year  1742 
or  1743  2, 

Se  al  venir  vestro  \vostro\  i  principi  sen1  vanno 
Deh  venga  ogni  dl — durate  urf  anno ; 

'  which  (said  he)  would  do  just  as  well  in  our  language  thus  : 

If  at  your  coming  princes  disappear, 
Comets  !    come  every  day — and  stay  a  year.' 

1  Mrs.  Thrale,  whose   name   was  Johnson  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  in 
Hester.  1783: — 'Mr.   Mudge    tells  me  that 

2  A  comet  was  seen  in  February  the  gout  will  secure  me  from  every- 
and  March,  1742.  Gentleman' sMaga-  thing   paralytick:    if   this    be    true, 
zine,  1742,  pp.  106,  210.     In  May  of  I  am  ready  to  say  to  the  arthritick 
that  year  the  Duke  of  Modena  with-  pains,  Deh!  venite  ogni  d\,  durate 
drew  from  his  dominions  before  the  un  anno'     Letters,  ii.  338. 

attack  of  the  Sardinians.  Id.  p.  334. 

When 


A  necdotes.  195 


When  some  one  in  company  commended  the  verses  of  M.  de 
Benserade x  a  son  Lit ; 

Theatre  des  ris  et  des  pleurs, 
Lit !   ou  je  nais,  et  ou  je  meurs, 
Tu  nous  fais  voir  comment  -voisins, 
Sont  nos  plaisirs,  et  nos  chagrins. 

To  which  he  replied  without  hesitating, 

4  In  bed  we  laugh,  in  bed  we  cry, 
And  born  in  bed,  in  bed  we  die ; 
The  near  approach  a  bed  may  shew, 
Of  human  bliss  to  human  woe.' 

The  inscription  on  the  collar  of  Sir  Joseph  Banks's  goat  which 
had  been  on  two  of  his  adventurous  expeditions  with  him,  and 
was  then,  by  the  humanity  of  her  amiable  master,  turned  out  to 
graze  in  Kent,  as  a  recompence  for  her  utility  and  faithful  ser 
vice,  was  given  me  by  Johnson  in  the  year  1777  I  think,  and 
I  have  never  yet  seen  it  printed. 

Perpetui,  \Perpettia^\  ambitd  bis  terra,  premia  lactis, 
HCEC  habet  altrici  Capra  secunda  Jo-vis2. 

The  epigram  written  on  Lord  Anson's  house  many  years  ag<p, 
'where  (says  Mr.  Johnson)  I  was  well  received  and  kindly 
treated 3,  and  with  the  true  gratitude  of  a  wit  ridiculed  the  master 
of  the  house  before  I  had  left  it  an  hour,'  has  been  falsely  printed 
in  many  papers  since  his  death.  I  wrote  it  down  from  his  own 
lips  one  evening  in  August  1772,  not  neglecting  the  little  preface, 
accusing  himself  of  making  so  graceless  a  return  for  the  civilities 
shewn  him.  He  had,  among  other  elegancies  about  the  park  and 
gardens,  been  made  to  observe  a  temple  to  the  winds,  when  this 
thought  naturally  presented  itself  to  a  wit. 

1  '  Isaac  de  Benserade,  1612-1691.       these  lines.    Life,  ii.  144. 

Sa  petite  maison  de  Gentilli,  ou  il  3  Lord  Anson  died  suddenly  at  his 

se  retira  stir  la  fin  de  sa  vie,  dtalt  seat    at    Moor    Park    in    Hertford- 

remplie  d'inscriptions   en   vers,   qui  shire  on  June  6,  1762.     Gentlemaris 

valaient  bien   ses   autres   ouvrages  ;  Magazine,  1762,  p.  264.     His  elder 

c'est  dommage  qu'on  ne  les  ait  pas  brother  had  been  member  for  Lich- 

recueillies.'      CEuvres    de    Voltaire,  field.     Burke's  Peerage,  under  EARL 

ed.  1819,  xvii.  49.  OF  LICHFIELD. 

2  It  was  in  1772  that  Johnson  made 

O  2  Gratum 


196 


Anecdotes. 


Gratum  animum  laudo;   Qui  debuit  omnia  ventis, 
Quant  bene  ventorum  surgere  templet  jubet x  / 

A  translation  of  Dryden's  epigram  too,  I  used  to  fancy  I  had  to 

myself. 

Quos  laudet  vates,  Grains,  Romanus,  et  Anglus, 
Tres  tria  temporibus  secla  dedere  suis  : 
Sublime  ingenium  Graiusj  Romanus  habebat 
Carmen  grande  so  nans ;  Anglus  utrumque  tulit. 
Nil  majus  natura  capit;  clarare  priores 
Quae  potuere  duos  tertius  units  habet 2  .• 

from  the  famous  lines  written  under  Milton's  picture : 

Three  poets  in  three  distant  ages  born, 
Greece,  Italy,  and  England  did  adorn; 
The  first  in  loftiness  of  thought  surpast, 
The  next  in  majesty;   in  both  the  last. 
The  force  of  Nature  could  no  further  go, 
To  make  a  third  she  join'd  the  former  two. 

One  evening  in  the  oratorio 3  season  of  the  year  1771,  Mr.  John 
son  went  with  me  to  Covent-Garden  theatre ;  and  though  he  was 
for  the  most  part  an  exceedingly  bad  playhouse  companion,  as 
his  person  drew  people's  eyes  upon  the  box,  and  the  loudness  of 
his  voice  made  it  difficult  for  me  to  hear  any  body  but  himself; 
he  sat  surprisingly  quiet,  and  I  flattered  myself  he  was  listening 
to  the  music 4.  When  we  were  got  home  however  he  repeated 


1  A  grateful  mind  I  praise  !    All  to 

the  winds  he  owed ; 
And  so  upon  the  winds  a  temple 

he  bestowed. 

Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  June  18, 
1744  (Letters,  i.  306): — 'Anson  is 
returned  with  vast  fortune,  sub 
stantial  and  lucky.  He  has  brought 
the  Acapulca  ship  into  Portsmouth, 
and  its  treasure  is  at  least  computed 
at  five  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
He  escaped  the  Brest  squadron  by 
a  rnist.' 

A  photograph  of  the  Temple  is 
given  in  R.  Bayne's  Moor  Park, 
1871,  p.  99. 

2  This  translation  Johnson  made 
at  Oxford,  I  suppose  in  his  under 


graduate  days.     Life,  v.  86. 

3  Oratorio    is    not    in    Johnson's 
Dictionary.       In    the    Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  1733,  p.  173,  mention 
is  made  of  a  man  'who  had  contrived 
a  thing  that   was    better    than  an 
opera  called  an  oratorio.' 

4  Boswell  thus  describes  Johnson 
at  Mrs.  Abington's  benefit  at  Drury 
Lane  in  1775  : — 'He  sat  on  the  seat 
directly  behind  me  ;  and  as  he  could 
neither  see  nor  hear  at  such  a  dis 
tance  from  the  stage,  he  was  wrapped 
up  in  grave  abstraction,  and  seemed 
quite  a  cloud,  amidst  all  the  sun 
shine  of  glitter  and  gaiety.'     Life,  ii. 
324- 

these 


Anecdotes.  197 


these  verses,  which  he  said  he  had  made  at  the  oratorio,  and  he 
bid  me  translate  them. 

IN   THEATRO. 

Tertii  verso  quater  orbe  lustri 
Quid  theatrales  tibi  Crispe  pompa ! 
Quam  decet  canos  male  literates 

Sera  voluptas  ! 
Tene  mulceri  fidibus  canoris? 
Tene  cantorum  modulis  stupere? 
Tene  per  pictas  oculo  elegante 

Currere  formas  ? 
Inter  cequales  sine  fe lie  liber, 
Codices  veri  studiosus  inter 
Rectius  vives  ;  sua  quisque  carpat 

Gaudia  gratus. 
Lusibus  gaudet  puer  otiosis, 
Luxus  oblectat  juvenem  theatri, 
At  sent  fluxo  sapient er  uti 

Tempora  [Tempore]  res  tat. 

I  gave  him  the  following  lines  in  imitation,  which  he  liked  well 
enough,  I  think  : 

When  threescore  years  have  chill'd  thee  quite, 

Still  can  theatric  scenes  delight  ? 

Ill  suits  this  place  with  learned  wight, 

May  Bates1  or  Coulson  cry. 

The  scholar's  pride  can  Brent 2  disarm  ? 
His  heart  can  soft  Guadagni 3  warm  ? 
Or  scenes  with  sweet  delusion  charm 

The  climacteric4  eye? 

1  Bates  was  perhaps  Joah  Bates,          3  Guadagni,  in  1771,  was  engaged 
a    musician,    in    whose    orchestra  to  sing  in  an  unlicensed  opera   in 
Herschel  the  astronomer  played  first  Soho  Square.    Horace  Walpole  wrote 
violin.     See  Diet.  Nat.  Biog.  under  on  Feb.  22  (Letters,  v.  283) : — 'Gua- 
Bates.     I  do  not  know  who  Coulson  dagni,  who  governed  so  haughtily  at 
was.      It    is    possible  that   he  was  Vienna  that,  to  pique  some  man  of 
Johnson's  friend,  the  Rev.  John  Coul-  quality  there,  he  named  a  minister 
son,   Fellow   of  University  College,  to  Venice,  is  not  only  fined,  but  was 
Oxford    (Letters,  i.   323),   and  that  threatened  to  be  sent  to  Bridewell, 
Bates  was  another  scholar.  which  chilled  the  blood  of  all  the 

2  Charlotte  Brent  (d.  1802),  after-  Caesars  and  Alexanders  he  had  ever 
wards  Mrs.  Pinto,  'was  a  favourite  represented.' 

pupil  of  Dr.  Arne,  and  for  her  he  4  Johnson  did  not  reach  his  grand 
composed  much  of  his  later  and  climacteric  till  the  next  year  when  he 
more  florid  music.'  Diet.  Nat.  Biog.  was  sixty-three  years  old. 

The 


198  Anecdotes. 


The  social  dub,  the  lonely  tower, 
Far  better  suit  thy  midnight  hour z ; 
Let  each  according  to  his  power 

In  worth  or  wisdom  shine ! 

And  while  play  pleases  idle  boys, 
And  wanton  mirth  fond  youth  employs, 
To  fix  the  soul,  and  free  from  toys, 

That  useful  task  be  thine. 

The  copy  of  verses  in  Latin  hexameters,  as  well  as  I  remember, 
which  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Lawrence2,  I  forgot  to  keep  a  copy  of; 
and  he  obliged  me  to  resign  his  translation  of  the  song  beginning, 
Busy,  curious,  thirsty  fly,  for  him  to  give  Mr.  Langton 3,  with 
a  promise  not  to  retain  a  copy.  I  concluded  he  knew  why,  so 
never  enquired  the  reason.  He  had  the  greatest  possible  value 
for  Mr.  Langton,  of  whose  virtue  and  learning  he  delighted  to 
talk  in  very  exalted  terms 4  ;  and  poor  Dr.  Lawrence  had  long 
been  his  friend  and  confident 5.  The  conversation  I  saw  them 
hold  together  in  Essex-street  one  day  in  the  year  1781  or  1782, 
was  a  melancholy  one,  and  made  a  singular  impression  on  my 
mind.  He  was  himself  exceedingly  ill,  and  I  accompanied  him 
thither  for  advice.  The  physician  was  however,  in  some  respects, 
more  to  be  pitied  than  the  patient :  Johnson  was  panting  under 
an  asthma  and  dropsy ;  but  Lawrence  had  been  brought  home 
that  very  morning  struck  with  the  palsy 6,  from  which  he  had, 
two  hours  before  we  came,  strove  to  awaken  himself  by  blisters  : 
they  were  both  deaf,  and  scarce  able  to  speak  besides  ;  one  from 

1  '  Or   let  my  lamp   at  midnight      go  to  Heaven,  if  Langton  does  not. 

hour  Sir,  I  could  almost  say,  Sit  anima 

Be   seen  in   some  high  lonely  mea  cum  Langtono"  '    Life,  iv.  280. 

tower.'  '  It  is  to  be  feared  that  Averroes  had 

//  Penseroso,  1.  85.  not  the  right  way  of  blessing  himself, 

2  'Ad  Thomam  Laurence,  Medi-  when   in  defiance  of  Christianity  he 
cum  Doctissimum,cumfiliumperegre  wished,  Sit  anima  mea  cum  philo- 
agentem  desiderio  nimis  tristi  pro-  sophis!   South's  Sermons,  ii.  75.   See 
sequeretur.'     Works,  i.  165.  also  ib.  iii.  203. 

3  Rewrote  to  Langton  on  July  5,  5  '  Lawrence,'  he  wrote, '  is  a  friend 
1774  : — *  If  you  have  the  Latin  ver-  whom  long  familiarity  has  much  en- 
sion  of  Busy,  curious,  thirsty  fly,  be  deared.     He  is  one  of  the  best  men 
so  kind  as  to  transcribe  and  send  it.'  whom  I  have  known.'     Ante,  p.  104. 
Life,  ii.  281.     See  Works,  i.  172.  6  Life,  iv.  144,  n.  3. 

4  '  He  said,  "  I  know  not  who  will 

difficulty 


Anecdotes.  199 


difficulty  of  breathing,  the  other  from  paralytic  debility.  To 
give  and  receive  medical  counsel  therefore,  they  fairly  sate  down 
on  each  side  a  table  in  the  Doctor's  gloomy  apartment,  adorned 
with  skeletons,  preserved  monsters,  &c.  and  agreed  to  write  Latin 
billets  to  each  other J.  Such  a  scene  did  I  never  see !  '  You 
(said  Johnson)  are  timidb  a.ndgelid£* ;'  finding  that  his  friend  had 
prescribed  palliative  not  drastic  remedies.  It  is  not  me,  replies 
poor  Lawrence  in  an  interrupted  voice  ;  'tis  nature  that  is  gelidt 
and  timid£.  In  fact  he  lived  but  few  months  after  I  believe,  and 
retained  his  faculties  still  a  shorter  time.  He  was  a  man  of  strict 
piety  and  profound  learning,  but  little  skilled  in  the  knowledge 
of  life  or  manners,  and  died  without  having  ever  enjoyed  the 
reputation  he  so  justly  deserved  3. 

Mr.  Johnson's  health  had  been  always  extremely  bad  since 
/ 1  first  knew  him,  and  his  over-anxious  care  to  retain  without 
\  blemish  the  perfect  sanity  of  his  mind,  contributed  much  to  dis 
turb  it4.    He  had  studied  medicine  diligently  in  all  its  branches5; 
but  had  given  particular  attention  to  the  diseases  of  the  imagina- 
;  tion,  which  he  watched  in  himself  with  a  solicitude  destructive 
vof  his  own  peace,  and  intolerable  to  those  he  trusted  6.  Dr.  Law 
rence  told  him  one  day,  that  if  he  would  come  and  beat  him 
once  a  week  he  would  bear  it ;  but  to  hear  his  complaints  was 
more  than  man  could  support 7.     'Twas  therefore  that  he  tried, 

1  See  Life,  iv.  143  for  one  of  these  See  also  ib.  iii.  22,  and  Letters,  \.  49. 
letters.  6  See   ante,  p.  48,  where   he  re- 

2  Johnson   could   not    have    said,  cords:— 'This  day  it  came  into  my 
'  You  are  timide  and  gelide!    On  his  mind   to  write    the    history   of   my 
death-bed  he  reproached  Heberden  melancholy.'     I  believe  that  there  is 
with  being  timidorum  timidissimus.  great   exaggeration  in  Mrs.  Piozzi's 
Ib,  iv.  400,*  n.  statement. 

3  Hawkins,  who  speaks  highly  of  7  '  I  never  knew  any  man  who  was 
his    skill,   says    that   'a   vacuity  of  less  disposed  to  be  querulous  than 
countenance  very  unfavourable  to  an  Johnson.     Whether  the  subject  was 
opinion  of  his  learning  or  sagacity  his  own  situation,  or  the  state  of  the 
stood  in  his  way.'     Hawkins's  John-  publick,  or  the  state  of  human  nature 
son,  p.  402.  in  general,  though  he  saw  the  evils, 

4  Ante,  p.  78,  and  post,  p.  234.  his  mind  was  turned  to  resolution, 

5  '  He    was    a   great    dabbler    in  and  never  to  whining  or  complaint.' 
physic,'  writes  Boswell.   Life,  iii.  152.  Life,  ii.  357. 

I  suppose, 


200  Anecdotes. 


I  suppose,  and  in  eighteen  years  contrived  to  weary  the  patience  of 
a  woman  x.  When  Mr.  Johnson  felt  his  fancy,  or  fancied  he  felt 
it,  disordered,  his  constant  recurrence  was  to  the  study  of  arith 
metic  2 ;  and  one  day  that  he  was  totally  confined  to  his  chamber, 
and  I  enquired  what  he  had  been  doing  to  divert  himself;  he 
shewed  me  a  calculation  which  I  could  scarce  be  made  to  under 
stand,  so  vast  was  the  plan  of  it,  and  so  very  intricate  were  the 
figures :  no  other  indeed  than  that  the  national  debt,  computing 
it  at  one  hundred  and  eighty  millions  sterling,  would,  if  con 
verted  into  silver,  serve  to  make  a  meridian  of  that  rnetal,  I  for 
get  how  broad,  for  the  globe  of  the  whole  earth,  the  real  globe. 
On  a  similar  occasion  I  asked  him  (knowing  what  subject  he 
would  like  best  to  talk  upon),  How  his  opinion  stood  towards  the 
question  between  Paschal  and  Soame  Jennings 3  about  number 
and  numeration  ?  as  the  French  philosopher  observes  that  infinity, 
though  on  all  sides  astonishing,  appears  most  so  when  the  idea  is 
connected  with  the  idea  of  number ;  for  the  notions  of  infinite 
number,  and  infinite  number  we  know  there  is,  stretches  one's 
capacity  still  more  than  the  idea  of  infinite  space ;  '  Such 
a  notion  indeed  (adds  he)  can  scarcely  find  room  in  the  human 
mind  V  Our  English  author  on  the  other  hand  exclaims,  let  no 
man  give  himself  leave  to  talk  about  infinite  number,  for  infinite 
number  is  a  contradiction  in  terms ;  whatever  is  once  numbered, 
we  all  see  cannot  be  infinite 5.  '  I  think  (said  Mr.  Johnson  after 
a  pause)  we  must  settle  the  matter  thus  :  numeration  is  certainly 
infinite,  for  eternity  might  be  employed  in  adding  unit  to  unit ; 
but  every  number  is  in  itself  finite,  as  the  possibility  of  doubling 

1  See /<?.$•/,  pp.  331,  341.  the  second  article  of  the  first  part  of 

2  Boswell  tells  how  'Johnson  de-  Pascal's  Penstes.     In  that  case  she 
lighted  in  exercising  his  mind  on  the  does  not  give  his  meaning  correctly, 
science  of  numbers.'     Life^  iii.  207.  5  '  An  infinite  number  is  a  contra- 
The  only  book  which  he  took  with  diction  in  terms,  and  therefore  every- 
him  on  his  tour  to  the  Hebrides  was  thing  that  is  infinite  or  eternal  must 
Cocker's  Arithmetic.    Ib.  v.  138,  n.  2.  exist  in  some  manner  which  bears 
See/^/,  p.  301.  no  manner  of  relation  to  Space  or 

3  Soame  Jenyns.  Johnson  reviewed  Time,  and  which  must  therefore  be  to 
his  Free  Enquiry  into   the  Nature  us  totally  incomprehensible.'  Jenyns's 
and  Origin  of  Evil.    Life,  i.  315;  Miscellaneous  Pieces,  ed.    1761,   ii. 
Works,  vi.  47.  209. 

4  Mrs.  Piozzi  refers,  I  suppose,  to 

it  easily 


Anecdotes. 


201 


it  easily  proves :  besides,  stop  at  what  point  you  will,  you  find 
yourself  as  far  from  infinitude  as  ever.'  These  passages  I  wrote 
down  as  soon  as  I  had  heard  them,  and  repent  that  I  did  not 
take  the  same  method  with  a  dissertation  he  made  one  other 
day  that  he  was  very  ill,  concerning  the  peculiar  properties  of 
the  number  Sixteen,  which  I  afterwards  tried,  but  in  vain,  to 
make  him  repeat. 

As  ethics  or  figures,  or  metaphysical  reasoning  *,  was  the  sort 
of  talk  he  most  delighted  in,  so  no  kind  of  conversation  pleased 
him  less  I  think,  than  when  the  subject  was  historical  fact  or 
general  polity.  *  What  shall  we  learn  from  that  stuff  (said  he) 2  ? 


1  He  told  Boswell  that  '  at  Oxford 
the  study  of  which  he  was  the  most 
fond  was  Metaphysicks,  but  he  had 
not  read  much   even   in  that  way.' 
Life,  i.  70.     See  ante,  p.  17,  for  his 
prayer  on  the  study  of  philosophy. 

Mackintosh  believed  that  he  was 
withheld  from  metaphysics  '  partly 
by  a  secret  dread  that  it  might  dis 
turb  those  prejudices  in  which  his 
mind  had  found  repose  from  the 
agitations  of  doubt.'  Life  of  Mackin 
tosh,  ii.  171. 

2  In  a  note  on  the  Life,  iii.  206, 
I  have  stated  that  '  he  was  no  doubt 
sick  of  the  constant  reference  made 
by  writers   and   public   speakers  to 
Rome/     It  was  the  cant  of  the  age. 
Voltaire  says  : — *  Les    membres   du 
parlement  d'Angleterre  aiment  a  se 
comparer  aux  anciens  Remains  au- 
tant  qu'ils  le  peuvent.'  (Euvres,  ed. 
1819,  xxiv.   33.     Chesterfield  writes 
to  his  son : — '  Bring  no  precedents 
from    the    virtuous    Spartans,    the 
polite    Athenians,    and    the    brave 
Romans.     Leave  all  that  to  futile 
pedants.'     Letters,  iii.  236. 

Horace  Walpole  thus  ridicules  such 
talk  as  this  (Letters,  v.  235):—'! 
entertain  myself  with  the  idea  of  a 
future  senate  in  Carolina  and  Vir 


ginia,  where  their  future  patriots  will 
harangue  on  the  austere  and  in 
corruptible  virtue  of  the  ancient 
English !  will  tell  their  auditors  of 
our  disinterestedness  and  scorn  of 
bribes  and  pensions,  and  make  us 
blush  in  our  graves  at  their  ridiculous 
panegyrics.' 

Thomson's  Liberty  has  a  great 
deal  of  this  cant  about  '  old  virtuous 
Rome'  (Part  v.  1.  229),  and  so  has 
B  olingbroke'  s  Dissertation  upon  Par 
ties. 

Johnson  seriously  thought  of  trans 
lating  De  Thou's  Historia  sui  Tem- 
poris,  '  which  contains  the  history  of 
only  sixty-four  years,  yet,  it  has 
been  calculated,  would  require  twelve 
months,  at  four  hours  a  day,  for  its 
perusal.'  Patti son's  Isaac  Casaubon, 
ed.  1892,  p.  59.  In  a  list  of  books 
proper  for  a  young  man  to  study, 
drawn  up  by  Johnson,  many  histories 
are  included.  Life,  iv.  311.  In  the 
talk  between  him  and  Lord  Mon- 
boddo  on  Aug.  21,  1773,  Monboddo 
said : — '  The  history  of  manners  is 
the  most  valuable.  I  never  set  a 
high  value  on  any  other  history.' 
Johnson  replied  : — *  Nor  I  ;  and 
therefore  I  esteem  biography  as 
giving  us  what  comes  near  to  our- 

let 


202  Anecdotes. 


let  us  not  fancy  like  Swift  that  we  are  exalting  a  woman's 
character  by  telling  how  she 

Could  name  the  ancient  heroes  round, 
Explain  for  what  they  were  renown'd,  £c.x ' 

I  must  not  however  lead  my  readers  to  suppose  that  he  meant 
to  reserve  such  talk  for  men's  company  as  a  proof  of  pre-eminence. 
'  He  never  (as  he  expressed  it)  desired  to  hear  of  the  Punic  war 2 
while  he  lived  :  such  conversation  was  lost  time  (he  said),  and 
carried  one  away  from  common  life,  leaving  no  ideas  behind 
which  could  serve  living  wight1"  as  warning  or  direction.' 

How  I  should  act  is  not  the  case, 
But  how  would  Brutus  in  my  place  ? 

'  And  now  (cries  Mr.  Johnson,  laughing  with  obstreperous  vio 
lence),  if  these  two  foolish  lines  can  be  equalled  in  folly,  except 
by  the  two  succeeding  ones  4 — shew  them  me/ 

I  asked   him    once   concerning   the   conversation   powers   of 
a   gentleman  with   whom    I   was    myself  unacquainted 5 — *  He 

selves,   what   we   can  turn   to   use.'  leteer  in  the  Garret  to  the  Patriot  in 

Life,  v.  79.  the  Senate  as  extremely  worthy  of  the 

All  this  shows  little  of  ' the  fierce  Imitation  of  Britons'     Four  Tracts 

and  boisterous   contempt   of  ignor-  by  Josiah  Tucker,  D.D.,  1774,  p.  60. 

ance'  with  which,  according  to  Lord  3  Paradise  Lost,  ii.  613. 

Macaulay,  Johnson  spoke  of  history.  4  «  How   shall    I    act   is    not    the 

Macaulay's  Essays,  ed.  1843,  i.  403.  case  ; 

1  'She  nam'd  the  ancient  heroes  But  how  would  Brutus  in  my 

round,  place  ? 

Explain'd  for  what  they  were  In    such    a    case   would    Cato 

renown'd ;  bleed  ? 

Then    spoke   with    censure    or  And  how  would  Socrates  pro- 
applause  ceed  ? ' 
Of  foreign   customs,  rites   and  To  Stella,  1720.     Swift's  Works,  x. 

laws.'  187. 

Cademis     and    Vanessa.          Swift's  5  Mrs.  Piozzi,  in  a  marginal  note, 

Works,  ed.  1803,  x.  128.  says    it    was    Charles    James   Fox. 

2  Writing  to  Mrs.  Thrale  in  July,  Hayward's  Piozzi,  i.  292. 

1775,  he  says  : — '  Therefore  wherever  '  I  have  heard  Mr.  Gibbon  remark,' 

you  are  and  whatever  you  see  talk  writes  Boswell,  '  that  Mr.  Fox  could 

not   of  the   Punick  War.'     Letters,  not  be  afraid  of  Dr.  Johnson  ;  yet 

i.  343.  he  certainly  was  very  shy  of  saying 

'  The  example  of  the  Romans  is  anything  in  Dr.  Johnson's  presence.' 

eternally  quoted  from  the   Pamph-  Life,  iii.  267.     See  also  ib.  iv.  167. 

talked 


Anecdotes.  203 


talked  to  me  at  club  one  day  (replies  our  Doctor)  concerning 
Catiline's  conspiracy — so  I  withdrew  my  attention,  and  thought 
about  Tom  Thumb.' 

Modern  politics  fared  no  better.  I  was  one  time  extolling  the 
character  of  a  statesman,  and  expatiating  on  the  skill  required 
to  direct  the  different  currents,  reconcile  the  jarring  interests,  &c. 
'  Thus  (replies  he)  a  mill  is  a  complicated  piece  of  mechanism 

enough,  but  the  water  is  no  part  of  the  workmanship.' On 

another  occasion,  when  some  one  lamented  the  weakness  of 
a  then  present  minister1,  and  complained  that  he  was  dull 
and  tardy,  and  knew  little  of  affairs, — '  You  may  as  well  com 
plain,  Sir  (says  Johnson),  that  the  accounts  of  time  are  kept 
by  the  clock ;  for  he  certainly  does  stand  still  upon  the  stair 
head — and  we  all  know  that  he  is  no  great  chronologer.' In 

the  year  1777,  or  thereabouts,  when  all  the  talk  was  of  an 
invasion,  he  said  most  pathetically  one  afternoon,  '  Alas !  alas ! 
how  this  unmeaning  stuff  spoils  all  my  comfort  in  my  friends' 
conversation !  Will  the  people  never  have  done  with  it ;  and 
shall  I  never  hear  a  sentence  again  without  the  French  in  it  ? 
Here  is  no  invasion  coming,  and  you  knoiv  there  is  none 2.  Let 
the  vexatious  and  frivolous  talk  alone,  or  suffer  it  at  least 
to  teach  you  one  truth  ;  and  learn  by  this  perpetual  echo  of 
even  unapprehended  distress,  how  historians  magnify  events 
expected,  or  calamities  endured ;  when  you  know  they  are  at 
this  very  moment  collecting  all  the  big  words  they  can  find, 
in  which  to  describe  a  consternation  never  felt,  for  a  misfortune 
which  never  happened.  Among  all  your  lamentations,  who 
eats  the  less3?  Who  sleeps  the  worse,  for  one  general's  ill 

1  She  means  I  suppose '  a  minister  without  spirit.' 

of  that  time.'     Perhaps   it  was   the  2  It   was   in    1778   and  1779  that 

Duke  of  Grafton.     Horace  Walpole  there  was  a  great   panic   about  an 

wrote  of  him  on  June  16,  1768: —  invasion.     Life,  iii.  326;  Letters,  ii. 

'  Because  we   are  not   in  confusion  109. 

enough  he  makes  everything  as  bad  3  '  We  are  told  that  on  the  arrival 

as  possible,  neglecting  on  one  hand,  of  the  news  of  the  unfortunate  battle 

and    taking   no   precaution  on  the  of  Fontenoy  every  heart  beat  and 

other.'     Letters,  v.  106.     Junius,   in  every  eye   was   in  tears.     Now  we 

his  Letter  of  April  10, 1769,  described  know  that  no  man  eat  his  dinner  the 

him  as  '  a  singular  instance  of  youth  worse.'     Life,  i.  355. 

success 


204  Anecdotes. 


success,  or  another's  capitulation  ?    Ok,  pray  let  us  hear  no  more 

of  it ! ' No  man  however  was  more  zealously  attached  to  his 

party ;  he  not  only  loved  a  tory  himself,  but  he  loved  a  man  the 
better  if  he  heard  he  hated  a  whig.  *  Dear  Bathurst x  (said  he  to 
me  one  day)  was  a  man  to  my  very  heart's  content :  he  hated 
a  fool,  and  he  hated  a  rogue,  and  he  hated  a  whig;  he  was 
a  very  good  hater? 

Some  one  mentioned  a  gentleman  of  that  party  for  having 
behaved  oddly  on  an  occasion  where  faction  was  not  concerned  : — 
'Is  he  not  a  citizen  of  London,  a  native  of  North  America, 
and  a  whig2?  (says  Johnson) — Let  him  be  absurd,  I  beg  of 
you :  when  a  monkey  is  too  like  a  man,  it  shocks  one.' 

Severity  towards  the  poor  was,  in  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion 
(as  is  visible  in  his  Life  of  Addison 3  particularly),  an  undoubted 
and  constant  attendant  or  consequence  upon  whiggism  ;  and 
he  was  not  contented  with  giving  them  relief,  he  wished  to 
add  also  indulgence.  He  loved  the  poor  as  I  never  yet  saw 
any  one  else  do,  with  an  earnest  desire  to  make  them  happy. — 
What  signifies,  says  some  one,  giving  halfpence  to  common 
beggars  ?  they  only  lay  it  out  in  gin  or  tobacco.  '  And  why 
should  they  be  denied  such  sweeteners  of  their  existence  (says 
Johnson)4?  it  is  surely  very  savage  to  refuse  them  every 

1  Ante,  p.  29.  One  evening  at  Mr.  Thrale's  John- 

2  Alderman    Lee    {Life,   iii.    78  ;  son  said  : — *  Addison  had  made  his 
Letters,  i.  397)  was  all  three.  Sir  Andrew  Freeport  a  true  Whig, 

3  'Steele  had  made  Sir  Andrew  arguing    against    giving  charity   to 
Freeport,  in  the  true  spirit  of  un-  beggars,  and  throwing  out  other  such 
feeling  commerce,   declare   that  he  ungracious  sentiments ;  but  that  he 
"  would  not  build  an  hospital  for  idle  had  thought  better,  and  made  amends 
people.'"     Works,  vii.  432.    Johnson  by  making  him  found  an  hospital 
quoted    from    memory  and    quoted  for  decayed  farmers.'     Life,  ii.  212. 
wrongly ;    for,    '  Sir   Andrew,    after  The  Spectator,  No.  232,  was  written 
giving  money  to  some  importunate  neither  by  Addison  nor  Steele ;  who 
beggars,  says  :— '  I  ought  to  give  to  wrote  it  is  uncertain. 

an  hospital  of  invalids,  to  recover  4  '  He  frequently  gave  all  the  silver 
as  many  useful  subjects  as  I  can,  in  his  pocket  to  the  poor,  who 
but  I  shall  bestow  none  of  my  watched  him  between  his  house  and 
bounties  upon  an  almshouse  of  idle  the  tavern  where  he  dined.'  Ib.  ii. 
people.'  Spectator,  No.  232.  119.  '  You  are  much  surer,'  he  said, 

possible 


Anecdotes.  205 


possible  avenue  to  pleasure,  reckoned  too  coarse  for  our  own 
acceptance.  Life  is  a  pill  which  none  of  us  can  bear  to  swallow 
without  gilding;  yet  for  the  poor  we  delight  in  stripping  it 
still  barer,  and  are  not  ashamed  to  shew  even  visible  dis 
pleasure,  if  ever  the  bitter  taste  is  taken  from  their  mouths.' 
In  consequence  of  these  principles  he  nursed  whole  nests  of 
people  in  his  house,  where  the  lame,  the  blind,  the  sick,  and 
the  sorrowful  found  a  sure  retreat  from  all  the  evils  whence 
his  little  income  could  secure  them  r :  and  commonly  spending 
the  middle  of  the  week  at  our  house,  he  kept  his  numerous 
family  in  Fleet-street  upon  a  settled  allowance 2 ;  but  returned 
to  them  every  Saturday,  to  give  them  three  good  dinners, 
and  his  company,  before  he  came  back  to  us  on  the  Monday 
night treating  them  with  the  same,  or  perhaps  more  cere 
monious  civility,  than  he  would  have  done  by  as  many  people 

of  fashion making  the  holy  scriptures  thus  the  rule  of  his 

conduct,  and  only  expecting  salvation  as  he  was  able  to  obey 
its  precepts. 

While  Dr.  Johnson  possessed  however  the  strongest  com 
passion  for  poverty  or  illness,  he  did  not  even  pretend  to  feel 
for  those  who  lamented  the  loss  of  a  child,  a  parent,  or  a  friend 3. 

'  that  you  are  doing  good  when  you  ii.  336.     To   Mrs.  Desmoulins  and 

pay  money  to  those  who  work,  as  her  daughter  and  Miss  Carmichael 

the  recompense  of  their  labour,  than  he  gave  a  room  ;   but  they  did  not 

when    you    give    money  merely   in  come  to  live  with  him  till  about  the 

charity.'     Life,  iii.  56.     *  It  is  an  un-  year  1777.     To  Mrs.  Desmoulins  he 

happy  circumstance,'  he  said,  'that  allowed  also  half-a-guinea  a  week, 

one  might   give  away  five  hundred  Life,  iii.  222. 

pounds  in  a  year  to  those  that  im-          3  '  The  death  of  my  mother/  he 

portune  in  the  streets,  and   not   do  wrote,  is  one  of  the  few  calamities  on 

any  good.'     Ib.  iv.  3.  which  I  think  with  terror.'     Letters, 

1  There   is  great  exaggeration  in  i.  20.     'Of  his   friend   Bathurst   he 
this  passage.     For  some  of  the  in-  hardly  ever  spoke  without  tears  in 
mates  of  his  house  see  Ib.  iii.  222,  his  eyes.'     Murphy's  Johnson,  p.  56. 
368,  461.  To  Mr.  Elphinston,  who  had  lost  his 

2  To  Levett  he  gave  house-room  mother,  he  wrote : — '  I  read  the  letters 
and  breakfast,   and  now  and  then  in  which  you  relate  your  mother's 
a  dinner  on  Sunday.     Ib.  i.  243,  n.  3.  death  to  Mrs.  Strahan,  and  I  think 
Miss  Williams  was  not  wholly  depen-  I  do  myself  honour  when  I  tell  you 
dent  on  him.    Ib.  i.  393,  n.  i ;  Letters,  that  I  read  them  with  tears.'    Life, 

'  These 


206 


Anecdotes. 


'  These   are   the   distresses   of  sentiment  (he  would  reply) 

which  a  man  who  is  really  to  be  pitied  has  no  leisure  to  feel. 
The  sight  of  people  who  want  food  and  raiment  is  so  common  in 
great  cities,  that  a  surly  fellow  like  me  has  no  compassion  to 
spare  for  wounds  given  only  to  vanity  or  softness  V  No  man, 
therefore,  who  smarted  from  the  ingratitude  of  his  friends,  found 
any  sympathy  from  our  philosopher :  '  Let  him  do  good  on 
higher  motives  next  time,'  would  be  the  answer ;  *  he  will  then 

be  sure  of  his  reward.' It  is  easy  to  observe,  that  the  justice 

of  such  sentences  made  them  offensive  ;  but  we  must  be  careful 
how  we  condemn  a  man  for  saying  what  we  know  to  be  true, 
only  because  it  is  so.  I  hope  that  the  reason  our  hearts  rebelled 
a  little  against  his  severity,  was  chiefly  because  it  came  from 
a  living  mouth. — Books  were  invented  to  take  off  the  odium  of 
immediate  superiority,  and  soften  the  rigour  of  duties  prescribed 
by  the  teachers  and  censors  of  human  kind — setting  at  least 
those  who  are  acknowledged  wiser  than  ourselves  at  a  distance 2. 
When  we  recollect  however,  that  for  this  very  reason  they  are 


i.  212.  Over  the  dying  bed  of  Mrs. 
Thrale's  mother  'he  hung  with  the 
affection  of  a  parent  and  the  rever 
ence  of  a  son.'  Post,  p.  235.  On 
the  death  of  young  Harry  Thrale  he 
wrote  to  his  mother : — '  Poor  dear 
sweet  little  boy!  When  I  read  the 
letter  this  day  to  Mrs.  Aston  she 
said,  "  Such  a  death  is  the  next  to 
translation."  Yet  however  I  may  con 
vince  myself  of  this  the  tears  are  in 
my  eyes,  and  yet  I  could  not  love 
him  as  you  loved  him,  nor  reckon 
upon  him  for  a  future  comfort  as  you 
and  his  father  reckoned  upon  him.' 
Letters,  i.  381.  On  the  death  of  the 
boy's  father  he  wrote  to  the  widow : — 
'  I  am  not  without  my  part  of  the 
calamity.  No  death  since  that  of 
my  wife  has  ever  oppressed  me  like 
this.'  Letters,  ii.  209.  With  Miss 
Burney  he  often  had  'long  and 
melancholy  discourses  about  our  dear 
deceased  master,  whom  indeed  he  re 
grets  incessantly.'  Mme.  D'Arblay's 


Diary,  ii.  63. 

Mrs.  Piozzi  says  (post,  p.  230) : — 
'  The  truth  is  nobody  suffered  more 
from  pungent  sorrow  at  a  friend's 
death  than  Dr.  Johnson,  though  he 
would  suffer  no  one  else  to  complain 
of  their  losses  in  the  same  way.' 

1  It  was  the  exaggeration  of  feeling 
that   Johnson   attacked.     'You   will 
find   these   very  feeling  people,'  he 
said,  'are  not  very  ready  to  do  you 
good.      They  pay  you   by  feeling! 
Ib.  ii.  95. 

2  Johnson,  in  the  Rambler,  No.  87, 
entitled,  '  The  reasons  why  advice  is 
generally  ineffectual,'  says  : — '  By  the 
consultation    of   books,   whether  of 
dead  or  living  authors,  many  tempta 
tions   to   petulance   and   opposition, 
which  occur  in  oral  conferences,  are 
avoided  .  .  .  Books  are  seldom  read 
with   complete   impartiality   but  by 
those  from  whom  the  writer  is  placed 
at  such  a  distance  that  his  life  or 
death  is  indifferent.' 

seldom 


Anecdotes.  207 


seldom  consulted  and  little  obeyed,  how  much  cause  shall  his 
contemporaries  have  to  rejoice  that  their  living  Johnson  forced 
them  to  feel  the  reproofs  due  to  vice  and  folly — while  Seneca 
and  Tillotson  were  no  longer  able  to  make  impression — except 
on  our  shelves.  Few  things  indeed  which  pass  well  enough  with 
others  would  do  with  him:  he  had  been  a  great  reader  of 
Mandeville J,  and  was  ever  on  the  watch  to  spy  out  those  stains 
of  original  corruption,  so  easily  discovered  by  a  penetrating 
observer  even  in  the  purest  minds.  I  mentioned  an  event,  which 
if  it  had  happened  would  greatly  have  injured  Mr.  Thrale  and 

his  family and  then,  dear  Sir,  said  I,  how  sorry  you  would 

have  been !    '  I  hope  (replied  he  after  a  long  pause) — I  should  have 

been  very  sorry  ; but  remember   Rochefoucault's    maxim  2.' 

1    would    rather    (answered    I)   remember    Prior's    verses, 

and  ask. 

What  need  of  books  these  truths  to  tell, 

Which  folks  perceive  that  [who]  cannot  spell  ? 

And  must  we  spectacles  apply, 

To  see  [view]  what  hurts  our  naked  eye3? 

Will  any  body's  mind  bear  this  eternal  microscope  that  you 
place  upon  your  own  so ?  'I  never  (replied  he)  saw  one  that 
would,  except  that  of  my  dear  Miss  Reynolds — and  her's  is  very 

near   to    purity   itself4.' Of  slighter   evils,   and    friends    less 

distant  than  our  own  household,  he  spoke  less  cautiously.  An 
acquaintance  lost  the  almost  certain  hope  of  a  good  estate  that 
had  been  long  expected  5.  Such  a  one  will  grieve  (said  I)  at  her 
friend's  disappointment.  '  She  will  suffer  as  much  perhaps  (said 

he)  as  your  horse  did  when  your  cow  miscarried.' 1  professed 

myself  sincerely  grieved  when  accumulated  distresses  crushed 
Sir  George  Colebrook's  family ;  and  I  was  so.  '  Your  own 

1  'I    read    Mandeville,'   he    said,       pas.'     See  Letters,  ii.  421,  n.  2. 

'  forty,  or,  I  believe,  fifty  years  ago.  For    the    strong     interest    which 

He  did  not  puzzle  me ;   he  opened  Johnson  took  in  Mr.  Thrale's  affairs 

my  views  into  life  very  much.'    Life,  see  ib.  i.  194,  n. 

iii.    292.      Dr.    Franklin     describes  3  Alma,  1.  1660. 

Mandeville  as  ' a  most  facetious,  en-  4  Boswell    complained    that    'her 

tertaining    companion.'      Franklin's  too  nice  delicacy  would  not  permit 

Works,  ed.  1887,  i.  89.  Johnson's  letters  to  her  to  be  pub- 

2  'Dans   1'adversite  de  nos  meil-  lished.'     Life,  i.  486,  n.  i. 

leurs  amis   nous   trouvons  toujours  5  Mrs.  Thrale  herself  suffered  such 

quelque  chose   qui  ne  nous  deplait       a  loss.    Letters,  i.  292,  n.  5. 

prosperity 


208  Anecdotes. 


prosperity  (said  he)  may  possibly  have  so  far  increased  the 
natural  tenderness  of  your  heart,  that  for  aught  I  know  you 
may  be  a  little  sorry  ;  but  it  is  sufficient  for  a  plain  man  if  he 
does  not  laugh  when  he  sees  a  fine  new  house  tumble  down  all 
on  a  sudden,  and  a  snug  cottage  stand  by  ready  to  receive  the 
owner,  whose  birth  entitled  him  to  do  nothing  better,  and  whose 
limbs  are  left  him  to  go  to  work  again  with  V 

I  used  to  tell  him  in  jest,  that  his  morality  was  easily 
contented  ;  and  when  I  have  said  something  as  if  the  wicked 
ness  of  the  world  gave  me  concern,  he  would  cry  out  aloud 
against  canting,  and  protest  that  he  thought  there  was  very  little 
gross  wickedness  in  the  world2,  and  still  less  of  extraordinary 
virtue.  Nothing  indeed  more  surely  disgusted  Dr.  Johnson  than 
hyperbole 3 ;  he  loved  not  to  be  told  of  sallies  of  excellence, 
which  he  said  were  seldom  valuable,  and  seldom  true.  '  Heroic 
virtues  (said  he)  are  the  bans  mots  of  life ;  they  do  not  appear 
often,  and  when  they  do  appear  are  too  much  prized  I  think; 
like  the  aloe-tree,  which  shoots  and  flowers  once  in  a  hundred 
years.  But  life  is  made  up  of  little  things  4  ;  and  that  character 
is  the  best  which  does  little  but  repeated  acts  of  beneficence ; 
as  that  conversation  is  the  best  which  consists  in  elegant  and 
pleasing  thoughts  expressed  in  natural  and  pleasing  terms5. 
With  regard  to  my  own  notions  of  moral  virtue  (continued  he), 
I  hope  I  have  not  lost  my  sensibility  of  wrong ;  but  I  hope 
likewise  that  I  have  lived  long  enough  in  the  world,  to  prevent 

1  'May  i,  1 774.     Sir  George  Cole-      human    nature.'     Works,    viii.    188. 
brook,  a  citizen  and  martyr  to  what       See  post,  p.  262. 

is  called  speculation,  had  his  pictures  3  Life,  i.  309,  n.  3. 

sold  by  auction  last  week.'  Walpole's  4  '  There  is  nothing,  Sir,  too  little 

Letters,  vi.  81.    As  ,£80,000  had  been  for  so  little  a  creature  as  man.     It  is 

settled  on  Lady  Colebrook  and  her  by  studying   little    things    that   we 

family  the  cottage  was  likely  to  be  attain   the  great  art  of   having  as 

snug   enough.     Gentleman's  Maga-  little  misery  and  as  much  happiness 

zine,  1773,  P-  24&  as  possible.'    Ib.  i.  433. 

2  Writing  of  Savage  he  says  : —  5  '  That  is  the  happiest  conversa- 
*  The  knowledge  of  life  was  his  chief  tion/  he   said,  '  where   there  is   no 
attainment ;    and   it  is   not  without  competition,  no  vanity,  but   a  calm 
some  satisfaction  that  I  can  produce  quiet  interchange  of  sentiments.'   Ib. 
the  suffrage  of  Savage  in  favour  of  ii.  359.     See  also  Letters,  ii.  19. 

me 


Anecdotes. 


209 


me  from  expecting  to  find  any  action  of  which  both  the  original 
motive  and  all  the  parts  were  good  V 

The  piety  of  Dr.  Johnson  was  exemplary  and  edifying:  he 
was  punctiliously  exact  to  perform  every  public  duty  enjoined 
by  the  church 2,  and  his  spirit  of  devotion  had  an  energy  that 
affected  all  who  ever  saw  him  pray  in  private.  The  coldest  and 
most  languid  hearers  of  the  word  must  have  felt  themselves 
animated  by  his  manner  of  reading  the  holy  scriptures 3 ;  and  to 
pray  by  his  sick  bed,  required  strength  of  body  as  well  as  of 
mind,  so  vehement  were  his  manners,  and  his  tones  of  voice  so 
pathetic 4.  I  have  many  times  made  it  my  request  to  heaven  that 
I  might  be  spared  the  sight  of  his  death  ;  and  I  was  spared  it 5 ! 

Mr.  Johnson,  though  in  general  a  gross  feeder,  kept  fast  in 
Lent  6,  particularly  the  holy  week,  with  a  rigour  very  dangerous 
to  his  general  health  ;  but  though  he  had  left  off  wine  (for  religious 
motives  as  I  always  believed,  though  he  did  not  own  it 7),  yet  he 
did  not  hold  the  commutation  of  offences  by  voluntary  penance, 
or  encourage  others  to  practise  severity  upon  themselves 8.  He 


1  Perhaps  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  in  mind 
the  following  saying  of  Johnson's  at 
Bath,  where   he   was    staying  with 
her  and  Mr.  Thrale :— '  To  act  from 
pure  benevolence  is  not  possible  for 
finite  beings.     Human   benevolence 
is  mingled  with  vanity,  interest,  or 
some  other  motive.'     Life,  iii.  48. 

2  Except  the  duty  of  going  regu 
larly  to  church  and  of  receiving  the 
sacrament  at  least  three  times  a  year. 
Ante,  pp.  8 1, 92.  It  is  likely  however 
that  on  the  Sundays  that  he  passed 
at  Streatham  he  was  made  regular 
by  the  regularity  of  the  family. 

3  '  His  recitation  was  grand  and 
affecting.'     Life,  v.  115. 

4  Ib.  iv.  409. 

5  She  was  spared  it  by  deserting 
him.     Eighteen   months  before   his 
death,  when  attacked  by  palsy,  he 
wrote  to  her : — '  Let  not  all  our  en 
dearments  be  forgotten,  but  let  me 

VOL.  I. 


have  in  this  great  distress  your  pity 
and  your  prayers.  You  see  I  yet 
turn  to  you  with  my  complaints  as 
a  settled  and  unalienable  friend ;  do 
not,  do  not  drive  me  from  you,  for  I 
have  not  deserved  either  neglect  or 
hatred.'  Letters,  ii.  303. 

6  There    is    nothing   besides  this 
statement  to  show  that  he  fasted  in 
any  part  of  Lent  but  Passion  Week. 

7  '  I  can't  drink  a  little,'  he  said  to 
Hannah  More,  'and  therefore  I  never 
touch  it.'    Hannah  More's  Memoirs, 
i.  251.     He  gave  the  same  account 
to  Boswell.    Life,  ii.  435.    Religious 
motives  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
He  did  not  disapprove  of  the  use  of 
wine  by  those  who  could  be  moderate. 
Ib.  i.  103,  n.  3.     'I  hope  you  per 
severe  in  drinking,'  he  wrote  to  Dr. 
Taylor.     Letters,  i.  408. 

8  '  Austerities    and    mortifications 
are  means  by  which  the  mind  is 

P  even 


2IO 


Anecdotes. 


even  once  said,  'that  he  thought  it  an  error  to  endeavour  at 
pleasing  God  by  taking  the  rod  of  reproof  out  of  his  hands.' 
And  when  we  talked  of  convents,  and  the  hardships  suffered  in 
them — '  Remember  always  (said  he)  that  a  convent  is  an  idle 
place,  and  where  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  something  must  be 
endured x :  mustard  has  a  bad  taste  per  se  you  may  observe,  but 
very  insipid  food  cannot  be  eaten  without  it.' 

His  respect  however  for  places  of  religious  retirement  was 
carried  to  the  greatest  degree  of  earthly  veneration 2 :  the  Bene 
dictine  convent  at  Paris  paid  him  all  possible  honours  in  return, 
and  the  Prior  and  he  parted  with  tears  of  tenderness 3.  Two  of 
that  college  sent  to  England  on  the  mission  some  years  after, 
spent  much  of  their  time  with  him  at  Bolt  Court  I  know,  and  he  was 
ever  earnest  to  retain  their  friendship 4 ;  but  though  beloved  by 
all  his  Roman  Catholic  acquaintance,  particularly  Dr.  Nugent 5, 
for  whose  esteem  he  had  a  singular  value,  yet  was  Mr.  Johnson 
a  most  unshaken  church  of  England  man 6 ;  and  I  think,  or  at 


invigorated  and  roused,  by  which  the 
attractions  of  pleasure  are  inter 
rupted,  and  the  claims  of  sensuality 

are  broken Austerity  is  the  proper 

antidote  to  indulgence  ;  the  diseases 
of  mind  as  well  as  body  are  cured 
by  contraries,  and  to  contraries  we 
should  readily  have  recourse,  if  we 
dreaded  guilt  as  we  dread  pain.' 
Rambler,  No.  no. 

For    his    penance    in    Uttoxeter 
market  see  Life,  iv.  373. 

1  In  the  Benedictine  convent  in 
Paris   he   recorded  : — '  Benedictines 
may  sleep   eight  hours. — Bodily  la 
bour  wanted  in  monasteries.'     Ib.  ii. 

390. 

2  Amidst  the  ruins  at  St.  Andrews 
he  said  : — '  I  never  read  of  a  hermit, 
but  in  imagination  I  kiss  his  feet ; 
never  of  a  monastery,  but  I  could  fall 
on  my  knees,  and  kiss  the  pavement. 
But   I   think  putting  young  people 
there,   who    know   nothing    of   life, 
nothing  of  retirement,  is  dangerous 


and   wicked.'     Ib.  v.  62.     See   also 
ib.  i.  365. 

'  Goldsmith,  who  hated  the  prudery 
of  Johnson's  morals  and  the  fop 
pery  of  Hawkes worth's  manners,  yet 
warmly  admired  the  genius  of  both, 
was  in  use  to  say  among  his  acquain 
tance  that  Johnson  would  have  made 
a  decent  monk,  and  Hawkes  worth 
a  good  dancing  master?  Memoirs  of 
the  Life,  &c.,  of  Dr.  Johnson,  1785, 
p.  194. 

3  '  I   was  very  kindly  treated  by 
the  English  Benedictines,  and  have 
a  cell  appropriated  to  me  in  their  con 
vent.'     Life,  ii.  402. 

4  Letters,  i.  401,  406 ;  ii.  39. 

5  Burke's  father-in-law.     Post,  p. 
230,  and  Life,  i.  477. 

6  '  Of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion 
he  said  :— ' ...  I  would  be  a  Papist 
if  I  could.     I  have  fear  enough  ;  but 
an  obstinate  rationality  prevents  me.' 
Ib.  iv.  289. 

least 


Anecdotes. 


211 


least  I  once  did  think,  that  a  letter  written  by  him  to  Mr.  Barnard 
the  King's  librarian,  when  he  was  in  Italy  collecting  books, 
contained  some  very  particular  advice  to  his  friend  to  be  on  his 
guard  against  the  seductions  of  the  church  of  Rome x. 

The  settled  aversion  Dr.  Johnson  felt  towards  an  infidel  he 
expressed  to  all  ranks,  and  at  all  times,  without  the  smallest 
reserve 2 ;  for  though  on  common  occasions  he  paid  great 
deference  to  birth  or  title  3,  yet  his  regard  for  truth  and  virtue 
never  gave  way  to  meaner  considerations.  We  talked  of  a  dead 
wit  one  evening,  and  somebody  praised  him — 'Let  us  never 
praise  talents  so  ill  employed.  Sir ;  we  foul  our  mouths  by  com 
mending  such  infidels'  (said  he).  Allow  him  the  lumitres  at 
least,  intreated  one  of  the  company — '  I  do  allow  him,  Sir  (replied 

Johnson),  just   enough  to  light  him  to  hell.' Of  a  Jamaica 

gentleman,  then  lately  dead4 — 'He  will  not,  whither  he  is  now 
gone  (said  Johnson),  find  much  difference,  I  believe,  either  in  the 
climate  or  the  company.' The  Abbe  Reynal  probably  re 
members  that,  being  at  the  house  of  a  common  friend  in  London, 
the  master  of  it  approached  Johnson  with  that  gentleman  so 
much  celebrated  in  his  hand,  and  this  speech  in  his  mouth  : 
Will  you  permit  me,  Sir,  to  present  to  you  the  Abbe  Reynal  ? 
'N0,  Sir,'  (replied  the  Doctor  very  loud)  and  suddenly  turned 
away  from  them  both  5. 

1  '  You  are  going  into  a  part  of  the  infidel.'    Of  Hume  he  said  something 
world  divided,  as  it  is  said,  between  so  rough  that  Boswell  suppresses  it. 
bigotry   and    atheism  :    such   repre-  Ib.  v.  30.    'He  talked  with  some  dis- 
sentations  are   always  hyperbolical,  gust  of  Gibbon's  ugliness.'     Ib.   iv. 
but  there  is  certainly  enough  of  both  73. 

to  alarm   any  mind    solicitous    for          3  '  I   have  great  merit,'  he  said, 

piety  and  truth  ;    let  not  the  con-  '  in  being  zealous  for  subordination 

tempt  of  superstition  precipitate  you  and  the  honours  of  birth,  for  I  can 

into  infidelity,  or  the  horror  of  in-  hardly  tell  who  was  my  grandfather.' 

fidelity  ensnare  you  in  superstition.'  Ib.  ii.  261. 
Letters,  i.  147.  4  Perhaps  Lord  Mayor  Beckford. 

2  See  Life,  i.  268  for  his  attack  on  Ib.  iii.  76,  201. 

that  '  scoundrel  and  coward'  Boling-  5  Hannah  More  (Memoirs,  \.  394), 

broke,  and  that  '  beggarly  Scotch-  records  the  same  story,  adding  that 
man'  Mallet;  and  ii.  95  for  his  at-  Johnson  put  his  hands  behind  his 
tack  on  Foote,  who,  *  if  he  be  an  back.  Romilly,  who  had  formed  the 
infidel,  is  an  infidel  as  a  dog  is  an  highest  expectations  of  Raynal  from 

p  2  Though 


212 


Anecdotes. 


Though  Mr.  Johnson  had  but  little  reverence  either  for  talents 
or  fortune,  when  he  found  them  unsupported  by  virtue ;  yet  it 
was  sufficient  to  tell  him  a  man  was  very  pious,  or  very  charit 
able,  and  he  would  at  least  begin  with  him  on  good  terms, 
however  the  conversation  might  end *.  He  would,  sometimes 
too,  good-naturedly  enter  into  a  long  chat  for  the  instruction  or 
entertainment  of  people  he  despised.  I  perfectly  recollect  his 
condescending  to  delight  my  daughter's  dancing-master  with 
a  long  argument  about  his  art ;  which  the  man  protested,  at  the 
close  of  the  discourse,  the  Doctor  knew  more  of  than  himself; 
who  remained  astonished,  enlightened,  and  amused  by  the  talk 
of  a  person  little  likely  to  make  a  good  disquisition  upon 
dancing2.  I  have  sometimes  indeed  been  rather  pleased  than 
vexed  when  Mr.  Johnson  has  given  a  rough  answer  to  a  man 
who  perhaps  deserved  one  only  half  as  rough,  because  I  knew  he 
would  repent  of  his  hasty  reproof3,  and  make  us  all  amends  by 
some  conversation  at  once  instructive  and  entertaining,  as  in  the 
following  cases:  A  young  fellow  asked  him  abruptly  one  day, 
Pray,  Sir,  what  and  where  is  Palmira  ?  I  heard  somebody  talk 
last  night  of  the  ruins  of  Palmira.  '  'Tis  a  hill  in  Ireland  (replies 
Johnson),  with  palms  growing  on  the  top,  and  a  bog  at  the 


his  works,  was  greatly  disappointed 
when  he  met  him.  'I  was  filled  at 
this  time  with  horror  at  slavery  and 
the  slave-trade,  and  his  history  of 
the  two  Indies  had  served  to  en 
lighten  these  sentiments ;  but  when 
I  came  to  talk  on  these  subjects  with 
him  he  appeared  to  me  so  cold  and 
so  indifferent  about  them  that  I  con 
ceived  a  very  unfavourable  opinion  of 
him.'  Memoirs  of  Romilly,  ed.  1840, 
1.70. 

In  Grimm's  Correspondance,  ed. 
1814,  v.  390,  under  date  of  Sept. 
1782,  is  the  following  entry: — 'J'ai 
vu,'  ecrivit  dernierement  le  Roi  de 
Prusse  a  M.  d'Alembert,  'j'ai  vu 
l'Abb£  Raynal.  A  la  maniere  dont 
il  m'a  parl£  de  la  puissance,  des 
ressources  et  des  richesses  de  tous 


les  peuples  du  globe,  j'ai  cru  m'entre- 
tenir  avec  la  Providence.  . .  .  Je  me 
suis  bien  gardd  de  revoquer  en  doute 
1'exactitude  du  moindre  de  ses  cal- 
culs ;  j'ai  compris  qu'il  n'entendrait 
pas  raillerie,  meme  sur  un  e"cu.' 

1  See  ante,  p.  35,  where  he  invited 
'  a  kind  of  Methodist '  to  his  house 
on  Easter  Sunday,  but  did  not  keep 
him,  as  he  had  purposed,  to  dinner. 

2  He  had  had,  he  said,  one  or  two 
lessons  in  dancing.    Life,  iv.  80,  n.  2. 

3  Reynolds  remarked  that  'when 
upon  any  occasion  Johnson  had  been 
rough  to  any  person  in  company,  he 
took  the  first  opportunity  of  recon 
ciliation    by    drinking    to    him,    or 
addressing    his   discourse    to    him.' 
Ib.  ii.  109.     See  also  ib.  ii.  256,  and 
post)  p.  269. 

bottom 


Anecdotes.  213 


bottom  and  so  they  call  it  Palm-mira'  Seeing  however  that 
the  lad  thought  him  serious,  and  thanked  him  for  the  informa 
tion,  he  undeceived  him  very  gently  indeed  ;  told  him  the  history, 
geography,  and  chronology  of  Tadmor  in  the  wilderness,  with 
every  incident  that  literature  could  furnish  I  think,  or  eloquence 
express,  from  the  building  of  Solomon's  palace  to  the  voyage  of 
Dawkins  and  Wood  z. 

On  another  occasion,  when  he  was  musing  over  the  fire  in  our 
drawing-room  at  Streatham,  a  young  gentleman  called  to  him 
suddenly,  and  I  suppose  he  thought  disrespectfully,  in  these 
words  :  Mr.  Johnson,  Would  you  advise  me  to  marry  ?  '  I  would 
advise  no  man  to  marry,  Sir  (returns  for  answer  in  a  very  angry 
tone  Dr.  Johnson),  who  is  not  likely  to  propagate  under 
standing  ; '  and  so  left  the  room 2.  Our  companion  looked 
confounded,  and  I  believe  had  scarce  recovered  the  consciousness 
of  his  own  existence,  when  Johnson  came  back,  and  drawing  his 
chair  among  us,  with  altered  looks  and  a  softened  voice,  joined 
in  the  general  chat,  insensibly  led  the  conversation  to  the  subject 
of  marriage,  where  he  laid  himself  out  in  a  dissertation  so 
useful,  so  elegant,  so  founded  on  the  true  knowledge  of  human 
life,  and  so  adorned  with  beauty  of  sentiment,  that  no  one  ever 

1  Horace  Walpole  makes  the  fol-  2  The  young  gentleman  was  Mr. 
lowing  use  of  this  anecdote  (Letters,  Thrale's  nephew,  Sir  John  Lade, 
ix.  48) : — '  In  fact  the  poor  man  is  to  on  whom  Johnson  wrote  some  lines 
be  pitied :  he  was  mad,  and  his  on  his  coming  of  age.  Ib.  iv.  413  ; 
disciples  did  not  find  it  out,  but  have  Letters,  ii.  190.  According  to  Mr. 
unveiled  all  his  defects;  nay,  have  Hayward  'he  married  a  woman  of 
exhibited  all  his  brutalities  as  wit,  and  the  town,  and  contrived  to  waste  the 
his  lowest  conundrums  as  humour.  whole  of  a  fine  fortune  before  he 
Judge !  The  Piozzi  relates  that,  a  died.'  Hayward's  Piozzi,  i.  78. 
young  man  asking  him  where  Pal-  In  the  Sporting  Magazine  for  1796, 
myra  was,  he  replied,  "  In  Ireland  ;  p.  162,  is  the  following  entry :— '  An- 
it  was  a  bog  planted  with  palm-  other  of  Sir  John  Lade's  estates  is 
trees."  .  .  .  What  will  posterity  think  under  the  hammer  j  the  money  arising 
of  us  when  it  reads  what  an  idol  we  from  which  has  been  long  appro- 
adored?'  priated;  .£200,000  have  indiscreetly 

For  'Jamaica  Dawkins'  and  the  slipped  through  this  baronet's  fingers 

troop  of  Turkish    horse  which    he  since  he  became  possessed   of  his 

hired  to  guard  him  and  Wood  on  property.'      He  became  of   age    in 

their  way  to  Palmyra   see  Life,  iv.  1780.    Letters,  ii.  191,  «.  I.    See  also 

126.  post,  p.  281. 

recollected 


214  Anecdotes. 


recollected  the  offence,  except  to  rejoice  in  its  consequences.  He 
repented  just  as  certainly  however,  if  he  had  been  led  to  praise 
any  person  or  thing  by  accident  more  than  he  thought  it 
deserved  ;  and  was  on  such  occasions  comically  earnest  to 
destroy  the  praise  or  pleasure  he  had  unintentionally  given  T. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  mentioned  some  picture  as  excellent. 
'  It  has  often  grieved  me,  Sir  (said  Mr.  Johnson),  to  see  so  much 
mind  as  the  science  of  painting  requires,  laid  out  upon  such 
perishable  materials:  why  do  not  you  oftener  make  use  of 
copper  ?  I  could  wish  your  superiority  in  the  art  you  profess, 
to  be  preserved  in  stuff  more  durable  than  canvas/  Sir  Joshua 
urged  the  difficulty  of  procuring  a  plate  large  enough  for  his 
torical  subjects,  and  was  going  to  raise  further  objections :  '  What 
foppish  2  obstacles  are  these  !  (exclaims  on  a  sudden  Dr.  John 
son  :)  Here  is  Thrale  has  a  thousand  tun  of  copper ;  you  may 
paint  it  all  round  if  you  will,  I  suppose  ;  it  will  serve  him  to 
brew  in  afterwards :  Will  it  not,  Sir  ? '  (to  my  husband  who  sat 
by).  Indeed  Dr.  Johnson's  utter  scorn  of  painting  was  such, 
that  I  have  heard  him  say,  that  he  should  sit  very  quietly 
in  a  room  hung  round  with  the  works  of  the  greatest  masters, 
and  never  feel  the  slightest  disposition  to  turn  them  if  their 
backs  were  outermost,  unless  it  might  be  for  the  sake  of  telling 
Sir  Joshua  that  he  had  turned  them 3.  Such  speeches  may 

1  '  It  may  be  alleged  that  ...  as  and   Dr.   Goldsmith,   as  you  know 
a  false  satire  ought  to  be  recanted  good   impressions.     If  any   of  your 
for  the  sake  of  him  whose  reputation  own  pictures  are  engraved  buy  them 
may  be   injured,  false  praise  ought  for  me.    I  am  fitting  up  a  little  room 
likewise    to    be    obviated,   lest    the  with  prints.'    Letters,  ii.  107.    Among 
distinction  between  vice  and  virtue  his  effects  that  were   sold  after  his 
should  be  lost,' &c.    Works,  viii.  126.  death  were  146  portraits,  of  which 
See  also  Life,  iv.  82,  andante,  p.  185.  61  were   framed   and  glazed.     Life, 

2  Johnson  defines /0//wA  as—  iv.  441.     See  also  ib.  i.  363,  n.  3. 

(1)  Foolish,  idle,  vain.  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  May  6, 

(2)  Vain  in  show j foolishly  osten-       1770   (Letters,    v.    236): — 'Another 
tatious;  vain  of  dress.  rage   is   for  prints  of  English  por- 

See /<?.?/, p. 2 19 for  'foppish lamen-  traits;  I  have  been  collecting  them 

tations.'  above   thirty   years,   and    originally 

3  He  wrote  to  Miss  Reynolds  on  never  gave  for  a  mezzotinto  above 
Oct.    19,    1779: — 'You  will   do    me  one  or  two   shillings.     The    lowest 
a  great  favour  if  you  will  buy  for  me  are  now  a  crown  ;    most   from   half 
the  prints  of  Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Dyer,  a  guinea  to  a  guinea.' 

appear 


Anecdotes.  215 


appear  offensive  to  many,  but  those  who  knew  he  was  too  blind 
to  discern  the  perfections  of  an  art  which  applies  itself  imme 
diately  to  our  eye-sight,  must  acknowledge  he  was  not  in  the 
wrong. 

He  delighted  no  more  in  music  than  painting  x  ;  he  was 
almost  as  deaf  as  he  was  blind  :  travelling  with  Dr.  Johnson 
was  for  these  reasons  tiresome  enough.  Mr.  Thrale  loved 
prospects,  and  was  mortified  that  his  friend  could  not  enjoy  the 
sight  of  those  different  dispositions  of  wood  and  water,  hill  and 
valley,  that  travelling  through  England  and  France  affords 
a  man.  But  when  he  wished  to  point  them  out  to  his  com 
panion  2  :  '  Never  heed  such  nonsense,'  would  be  the  reply  : 
a  blade  of  grass  is  always  a  blade  of  grass,  whether  in  one 
country  or  another  :  let  us  if  we  do  talk,  talk  about  something  ; 
men  and  women  are  my  subjects  of  enquiry;  let  us  see  how 
these  differ  from  those  we  have  left  behind.' 

When  we  were  at  Rouen  together  3,  he  took  a  great  fancy 
to  the  Abbe  Roffette,  with  whom  he  conversed  about  the 
destruction  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  and  condemned  it  loudly, 
as  a  blow  to  the  general  power  of  the  church,  and  likely  to 
be  followed  with  many  and  dangerous  innovations,  which  might 
at  length  become  fatal  to  religion  itself,  and  shake  even  the 
foundation  of  Christianity  4.  The  gentleman  seemed  to  wonder 
and  delight  in  his  conversation  :  the  talk  was  all  in  Latin,  which 


1  He  said  of  music,  '  it  excites  in  sibility  to  nature,  and/tfj-/,  p.  323. 
my  mind    no    ideas,    and    hinders  3  In    September,    1775.     Life,   ii. 
me   from    contemplating    my   own.'  385. 

Hawkins's  /0/bw0w,  p.  319.   See  also  4  The   order  was    suppressed    in 

Life,  ii.  409.  France  in  1  764,  and  generally  in  1773. 

2  The  more  a  man  likes  scenery  Penny   Cyclopaedia,   ed.    1839,  xiii. 
the  more  he  dislikes  to  have  it  pointed  113. 

out  to  him.    Johnson  was  not  wholly  Gibbon,  during  the  alarm  caused 

insensible  to  scenery.     In  his  Tour  by  the  Reign  of  Terror,  «  argued  in 

to  Wales  he  describes  how  'the  way  favour  of  the  Inquisition  at  Lisbon, 

lay  through  pleasant  lanes,  and  over-  and  said  he  would  not,  at  the  present 

looked  a  region  beautifully  diversified  moment,  give  up  even  that  old  estab- 

with  trees  and  grass.'      Ib.  v.  439.  lishment.'     Gibbon's  Misc.  Works, 

See  ib.  n.  2  for  my  note  on  his  insen-  i.  328. 

both 


2l6 


Anecdotes. 


both  spoke  fluently x,  and  Mr.  Johnson  pronounced  a  long  eulo- 
gium  upon  Milton2  with  so  much  ardour,  eloquence,  and 
ingenuity,  that  the  Abbe  rose  from  his  seat  and  embraced  him. 
My  husband  seeing  them  apparently  so  charmed  with  the  com 
pany  of  each  other,  politely  invited  the  Abbe  to  England, 
intending  to  oblige  his  friend  ;  who,  instead  of  thanking,  repri 
manded  him  severely  before  the  man,  for  such  a  sudden  burst  of 
tenderness  towards  a  person  he  could  know  nothing  at  all  of; 
and  thus  put  a  sudden  finish  to  all  his  own  and  Mr.  Thrale's 
entertainment  from  the  company  of  the  Abbe  Roffette. 

When  at  Versailles  the  people  shewed  us  the  theatre.  As  we 
stood  on  the  stage  looking  at  some  machinery  for  playhouse 
purposes  :  Now  we  are  here,  what  shall  we  act,  Mr.  Johnson, — 
The  Englishman  at  Paris  3  ?  '  No,  no  (replied  he),  we  will  try  to 
act  Harry  the  Fifth.'  His  dislike  of  the  French4  was  well 
known  to  both  nations,  I  believe  ;  but  he  applauded  the  number 
of  their  books  and  the  graces  of  their  style 5.  *  They  have  few 
sentiments  (said  he),  but  they  express  them  neatly ;  they 
have  little  meat  too,  but  they  dress  it  well  6.'  Johnson's  own 


1  'While  Johnson  was  in  France, 
he  was  generally  very  resolute   in 
speaking  Latin.      It  was  a  maxim 
with  him  that  a  man  should  not  let 
himself  down,  by   speaking  a  lan 
guage  which  he  speaks  imperfectly.' 
Life,  ii.  404.    For  instances   of  his 
colloquial  Latin  see  ib.  ii.  125,  n.  5, 
406. 

2  For    Johnson's    lofty  praise    of 
Milton  see  ib.  i.  230. 

3  A  comedy  by  Foote. 

4  In  a  note  on  The  Merry  Wives 
of  Windsor  he    says  : — '  To    be   a 
foreigner  was    always    in   England, 
and   I    suppose  everywhere  else,  a 
reason  of  dislike.'    Johnson's  Shake 
speare^  ii.   479.     But    according    to 
Reynolds  'the  prejudices  he  had  to 
countries   did   not   extend    to   indi 
viduals.'   Life,  iv.  169,  n.  i.   See  also 
ib.  iv.  15. 


5  'He  admitted  that  the  French, 
though  not  the  highest  perhaps  in 
any  department  of  literature,  yet  in 
every  department   were  very  high.' 
Ib.  ii.  125.    '  He  spoke  often  in  praise 
of  French  literature.     "  The  French 
are  excellent  in  this,  (he  would  say,) 
they  have  a  book  on  every  subject." ' 
Ib.   iv.   237.     'There    is,'   he    said, 
'  perhaps,  more  knowledge  circulated 
in  the  French  literature  than  in  any 
other.    There  is  more  original  know 
ledge  in   English.'     Ib.  v.  310.     In 
Macaulay's  Essay  on  Horace  Wai- 
pole  (Essays,  ed.  1843,  ii.  107),  there 
is  an  interesting  expansion  of  the  last 
passage. 

6  During  his  visit    to    Paris    he 
says : — '  Mr.  Thrale  keeps  us  a  very 
fine  table;  but  I  think  our  cookery 
very   bad.'    Life,    ii.    385.     'Their 
meals  are  gross.'     Ib.  p.  389.     '  Mr. 

notions 


Anecdotes. 


217 


notions  about  eating  however  was  nothing  less  than  delicate ; 
a  leg  of  pork  boiled  till  it  dropped  from  the  bone,  a  veal-pye 
with  plums  and  sugar,  or  the  outside  cut  of  a  salt  buttock  of 
beef,  were  his  favourite  dainties x  :  with  regard  to  drink,  his 
liking  was  for  the  strongest,  as  it  was  not  the  flavour,  but  the 
effect  he  sought  for,  and  professed  to  desire2;  and  when  I  first 
knew  him,  he  used  to  pour  capillaire  into  his  Port  wine.  For  the 
last  twelve  years  however,  he  left  off  all  fermented  liquors  3.  To 
make  himself  some  amends  indeed,  he  took  his  chocolate  liber 
ally,  pouring  in  large  quantities  of  cream,  or  even  melted  butter ; 
and  was  so  fond  of  fruit,  that  though  he  usually  eat  seven  or 
eight  large  peaches  of  a  morning  before  breakfast  began 4,  and 
treated  them  with  proportionate  attention  after  dinner  again, 
yet  I  have  heard  him  protest  that  he  never  had  quite  as  much  as 
he  wished  of  wall-fruit,  except  once  in  his  life,  and  that  was 
when  we  were  all  together  at  Ombersley,  the  seat  of  my  Lord 
Sandys  5.  I  was  saying  to  a  friend  one  day,  that  I  did  not  like 


Thrale  justly  observed  that  the 
cookery  of  the  French  was  forced 
upon  them  by  necessity;  for  they 
could  not  eat  their  meat  unless  they 
added  some  taste  to  it.'  Life,  ii.  403. 
Arthur  Young  wrote  : — '  There  is  not 
better  beef  in  the  world  than  at 
Paris.'  Travels  in  France  (1792-4), 
1890,  p.  306.  In  1769  there  was  a 
tax  of  fifty  shillings  upon  every  ox 
sold  in  Paris.  Burke's  Works,  ed. 
1808,  ii.  88. 

1  By  plums  Mrs.  Piozzi  probably 
meant  raisins.  In  Johnson's  Dic 
tionary  the  second  definition  of  plum 
is  raisin ;  grape  dried  in  the  sun. 
In  the  Art  of  Cookery,  by  a  Lady,  ed. 
1748,  p.  134,  among  the  ingredients 
of  a  veal-pie  are  included  '  some 
stoned  raisins  and  currants  washed 
clean,  and  some  sugar.'  Opposite 
the  passage  in  the  Life  (i.  470)  where 
Johnson  says,  'This  was  a  good 
dinner  enough,  to  be  sure;  but  it 
was  not  a  dinner  to  ask  a  man  to,' 
Mr.  Hussey  wrote  on  the  margin  of 


his  copy  : — '  I  have  more  than  once 
allowed  him  to  dine  with  me  on  a 
Buttock  of  Beef;  but  he  could  not 
expect  more  at  my  house.'  For  his 
gross  feeding  see  Life,  i.  467.  For 
the  plums  with  the  veal  pie  see  ante, 
p.  109,  where  he  has  'farcimen  fari- 
naceum  cum  uvis  passis.' 

2  *  Brandy,'  he  said, '  will  do  soonest 
for  a  man  what  drinking  can  do  for 
him.'    Ib.  iii.  381. 

3  Three  years  before  his  death  he 
was  drinking  wine  at  Mr.  Thrale's 
house.    Ib.  iv.  72. 

4  Susan  Burney,  describing  her  visit 
to  Streatham  in  1779,  says  : — '  There 
sat  Mrs.  Thrale  and  Dr.  Johnson,  the 
latter  finishing   his   breakfast  upon 
peaches.  ...  He  insisted  upon  my 
eating  one  of  his  peaches,  and,  when 
I  had  eat   it,  took  a  great  deal  of 
pains  to  persuade  me  to  take  another.' 
Early  Diary  of  F.  Burney,  ii.  256. 

5  Life,    v.   455.     Johnson,    a   few 
months  before  his  death,  wrote  to  Dr. 
Brocklesby  : — '  What  I  consider  as  a 

goose 


2i8  Anecdotes. 


goose ;  one  smells  it  so  while  it  is  roasting,  said  I :  '  But  you, 
Madam  (replies  the  Doctor),  have  been  at  all  times  a  for 
tunate  woman,  having  always  had  your  hunger  so  forestalled  by 
indulgence,  that  you  never  experienced  the  delight  of  smelling 
your  dinner  beforehand.'  Which  pleasure,  answered  I  pertly, 
is  to  be  enjoyed  in  perfection  by  such  as  have  the  happiness  to 
pass  through  Porridge-Island I  of  a  morning.  '  Come,  come 
(says  he  gravely),  let's  have  no  sneering  at  what  is  so  serious 
to  so  many :  hundreds  of  your  fellow-creatures,  dear  Lady,  turn 
another  way,  that  they  may  not  be  tempted  by  the  luxuries  of 
Porridge-Island  to  wish  for  gratifications  they  are  not  able  to 
obtain :  you  are  certainly  not  better  than  all  of  them ;  give  God 
thanks  that  you  are  happier.' 

I  received  on  another  occasion  as  just  a  rebuke  from  Mr.  John 
son,  for  an  offence  of  the  same  nature,  and  hope  I  took  care 
never  to  provoke  a  third  ;  for  after  a  very  long  summer  parti 
cularly  hot  and  dry,  I  was  wishing  naturally  but  thoughtlessly  for 
some  rain  to  lay  the  dust  as  we  drove  along  the  Surry  roads. 

symptom  of  radical  health,  I  have  a  Quality  of  Brentford.'     The  World, 

voracious  delight  in  raw  summer  fruit,  Nov.  29,  1753,  No.  48. 
of  which  I  was  less  eager  a  few  years          Charles  Knight,  describing  a  walk 

ago.'     Life^  iv.  353.  in  1812  from  Co  vent  Garden  to  Pim- 

1  Porridge-Island  is  a  mean  street  lico,  says : — '  We  make  our  way  to 

in  London,  filled  with  cook-shops  for  Charing  Cross,  deviating  a  little  from 

the  convenience  of   the  poorer  in-  the  usual  route,  that  I  may  see  how 

habitants  ;  the  real  name  of  it  I  know  some  of  the  worthy  electors  of  West- 

not,  but  suspect  that  it  is  generally  minster  are  lodged  and  fed.     We  are 

known  by,  to  have  been  originally  a  in  the  alleys  known  in  the  time  of 

term  of  derision.  Note  by  Mrs.  Piozzi.  Ben  Jonson   as   the  Bermudas  but 

'The  fine  gentleman  whose  lodgings  since  called  the  Caribbee  Islands  .  .  . 

no  one  is  acquainted  with ;   whose  Close  at  hand   is    Porridge   Island, 

dinner  is  served  up  under  cover  of  a  then  famous  for  cook-shops,  as  in  the 

pewter  plate  from  the  cook's  shop  in  middle  of  the  previous  century  .  .  . 

Porridge  Island,  and  whose  annuity  We  are  out  of  the  labyrinth,  and  are 

of  a  hundred  pounds  is  made  to  sup-  in  a  neglected  open   space,  on  the 

ply  a  laced   suit  every  year,  and  a  north   of  which   stands   the    King's 

chair  every  evening  to  a  rout,  returns  Mews.      Trafalgar  Square   and  the 

to   his   bedroom  on   foot,  and  goes  National  Gallery  have   swept  away 

shivering  and  supperless  to  bed,  for  these  relics  of  the  pride  of  the  Crown 

the   pleasure    of   appearing  among  and   the  low  estate  of  the  people.' 

people  of  equal  importance  with  the  Passages  of  a  Working  Life,  i.  117. 

'  I  cannot 


Anecdotes.  219 


'  I  cannot  bear  (replied  he,  with  much  asperity  and  an  altered 
look),  when  I  know  how  many  poor  families  will  perish  next 
winter  for  want  of  that  bread  which  the  present  drought  will 
deny  them,  to  hear  ladies  sighing  for  rain,  only  that  their  com 
plexions  may  not  suffer  from  the  heat,  or  their  clothes  be 
incommoded  by  the  dust  ; — for  shame!  leave  off  such  foppish 
lamentations,  and  study  to  relieve  those  whose  distresses  are 
real.' 

With  advising  others  to  be  charitable  however,  Dr.  Johnson 
did  not  content  himself.  He  gave  away  all  he  had,  and  all 
he  ever  had  gotten,  except  the  two  thousand  pounds  he  left 
behind z ;  and  the  very  small  portion  of  his  income  which  he 
spent  on  himself,  with  all  our  calculation,  we  never  could  make 
more  than  seventy,  or  at  most  fourscore  pounds  a  year,  and  he 
pretended  to  allow  himself  a  hundred.  He  had  numberless 
dependents  out  of  doors  as  well  as  in,  '  who,  as  he  expressed  it, 
did  not  like  to  see  him  latterly  unless  he  brought  'em  money.' 
For  those  people  he  used  frequently  to  raise  contributions  on 
his  richer  friends2;  'and  this  (says  he)  is  one  of  the  thousand 
reasons  which  ought  to  restrain  a  man  from  drony3  solitude  and 
useless  retirement.  Solitude  (added  he  one  day)  is  dangerous  to 
reason,  without  being  favourable  to  virtue :  pleasures  of  some 
sort  are  necessary  to  the  intellectual  as  to  the  corporeal  health ; 
and  those  who  resist  gaiety,  will  be  likely  for  the  most  part 
to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  appetite  ;  for  the  solicitations  of  sense  are 
always  at  hand,  and  a  dram  to  a  vacant  and  solitary  person 
is  a  speedy  and  seducing  relief.  Remember  (continued  he)  that 
the  solitary  mortal  is  certainly  luxurious,  probably  superstitious, 
and  possibly  mad  :  the  mind  stagnates  for  want  of  employment, 
grows  morbid,  and  is  extinguished  like  a  candle  in  foul  air  V 

1  'The    amount    of  his    property  given  what   I   can    be  expected   to 
proved  to  be  considerably  more  than  spare.    The  man  importunes  me,  and 
he  had  supposed  it  to  be.'    Life,  iv.  the  blow  goes  round.'    Ib.  iv.  283. 
404.  3  Dronish  is  in  Johnson's  Diction- 

2  As    for    instance    he    wrote    to  ary  but  not  drony. 

Reynolds  in  June,  1784: — 'I  am  4  *  Solitude  to  Johnson,'  wrote 
ashamed  to  ask  for  some  relief  for  a  Reynolds,  *  was  horror ;  nor  would 
poor  man,  to  whom,  I  hope,  I  have  he  ever  trust  himself  alone  but  when 

It 


220  Anecdotes. 


It  was  on  this  principle  that  Johnson  encouraged  parents  to 
carry  their  daughters  early  and  much  into  company  :  *  for  what 
harm  can  be  done  before  so  many  witnesses  ?  Solitude  is  the 
surest  nurse  of  all  prurient  passions,  and  a  girl  in  the  hurry 
of  preparation,  or  tumult  of  gaiety,  has  neither  inclination  nor 
leisure  to  let  tender  expressions  soften  or  sink  into  her  heart. 
The  ball,  the  show,  are  not  the  dangerous  places T :  no,  'tis  the 
private  friend,  the  kind  consoler,  the  companion  of  the  easy 
vacant  hour,  whose  compliance  with  her  opinions  can  flatter  her 
vanity,  and  whose  conversation  can  just  sooth,  without  ever 
stretching  her  mind,  that  is  the  lover  to  be  feared  :  he  who 
buzzes  in  her  ear  at  court,  or  at  the  opera,  must  be  contented  to 
buzz  in  vain.'  These  notions  Dr.  Johnson  carried  so  very  far, 
that  I  have  heard  him  say,  '  if  you  would  shut  up  any  man  with 
any  woman,  so  as  to  make  them  derive  their  whole  pleasure 
from  each  other,  they  would  inevitably  fall  in  love,  as  it  is 
called,  with  each  other;  but  at  six  months'  end  if  you  would 
throw  them  both  into  public  life  where  they  might  change 
partners  at  pleasure,  each  would  soon  forget  that  fondness  which 
mutual  dependance,  and  the  paucity  of  general  amusement 
alone,  had  caused,  and  each  would  separately  feel  delighted  by 
their  release.' 

In  these  opinions  Rousseau  apparently  concurs  with  him 
exactly ;  and  Mr.  Whitehead's  poem  called  Variety  2,  is  written 
solely  to  elucidate  this  simple  proposition.  Prior  likewise 
advises  the  husband  to  send  his  wife  abroad,  and  let  her  see  the 

world  as  it  really  stands 

Powder,  and  pocket-glass,  and  beau3. 

employed  in  writing  or  reading.'  Life,  public  pleasures   are  generally  less 

i.    144,   n.   2.     See  also  ib.   iii.   27,  guilty  than    solitary    ones.'      Gold- 

415.  smith's  Present  State  of  Polite  Learn- 

1  To  Sir  Adam  Fergusson,  'who  ex-  ing,  ch.  xii. 

pressed  some  apprehension  that  the  2  This  poem  by  William   White- 
Pantheon   would   encourage  luxury,  head  is  given  in  Campbell's  British 
"  Sir  (said  Johnson),  I  am  a  great  Poets,  ed.  1845,  p.  585. 
friend  to  public  amusements,  for  they  3  '  Dear  angry  friend,  what  must 
keep  people  from  vice." '    Ib.  ii.  169.  be  done  ? 

'  But  whatever  be  the  incentives  to  Is  there  no  way?   there  is  but 

vice  which  are  found  at  the  theatre,  one  ; 

Mr. 


Anecdotes. 


221 


Mr.  Johnson  was  indeed  unjustly  supposed  to  be  a  lover  of 
singularity.  Few  people  had  a  more  settled  reverence  for  the 
world  than  he,  or  was  less  captivated  by  new  modes  of  behaviour 
introduced,  or  innovations  on  the  long-received  customs  of  com 
mon  life  T.  He  hated  the  way  of  leaving  a  company  without 
taking  notice  to  the  lady  of  the  house  that  he  was  going  ;  and 
did  not  much  like  any  of  the  contrivances  by  which  ease  has 
been  lately  introduced  into  society  instead  of  ceremony,  which 
had  more  of  his  approbation.  Cards 2,  dress 3,  and  dancing 
however,  all  found  their  advocates  in  Dr.  Johnson,  who  incul 
cated,  upon  principle,  the  cultivation  of  those  arts,  which  many 
a  moralist  thinks  himself  bound  to  reject,  and  many  a  Christian 
holds  unfit  to  be  practised.  '  No  person  (said  he  one  day)  goes 
under-dressed  till  he  thinks  himself  of  consequence  enough  to 
forbear  carrying  the  badge  of  his  rank  upon  his  back  V  And  in 


Send  her  abroad,  and  let  her  see 
That  all  this  mingled  mass  which 

she, 

Being  forbidden,  longs  to  know, 
Is  a  dull  farce,  an  empty  show, 
Powder,   and   pocket-glass    and 

beau.' 

An  English  Padlock,  1.  55.     Prior's 
Works,  ed.  1858,  p.  85. 

1  See  Life,  ii.  75  for  instances  of 
Johnson's  censure  of  singularity.  In 
the  Tatler,  No.  103,  it  is  thus  at 
tacked  : — '  The  bearing  to  be  laughed 
at  for  singularities  teaches  us  in 
sensibly  an  impertinent  fortitude,  and 
enables  us  to  bear  public  censure  for 
things  which  more  substantially  de 
serve  it.' 

Miss  Byron  says  of  Sir  Charles 
Grandison's  dress  : — '  He  scruples 
not  to  modernize  a  little ;  but  then 
you  see  that  it  is  in  compliance  with 
the  fashion,  and  to  avoid  singularity; 
a  fault  to  which  great  minds  are  per 
haps  too  often  subject,  tho'  he  is  so 
much  above  it.'  Sir  C.  Grandison, 
i.  324.  '  Singularity  is  only  pardon 
able  in  old  age  and  retirement ;  I 
may  now  be  as  singular  as  I  please, 


but    you    may    not.'     Chesterfield's 
Letters  to  his  Son,  iv.  78. 

2  '  He  said,  "  I  am  sorry  I  have 
not  learnt  to  play  at  cards.     It  is  very 
useful  in  life ;  it  generates  kindness 
and  consolidates  society."  '     Life,  v. 
404.     See  ib.  iii.  23. 

3  '  It   is  yet   remembered   of  the 
learned  and  pious  Nelson  [the  author 
of  Fasts  and  Festivals}  that  he  was 
remarkably  elegant  in  his  manners 
and  splendid  in  his  dress.    He  knew, 
that  the  eminence  of  his  character 
drew  many  eyes  upon  him  ;  and  he 
was  careful  not  to  drive  the  young  or 
the  gay  away  from  religion,  by  repre 
senting  it  as  an  enemy  to  any  dis 
tinction  or  enjoyment  in  which  human 
nature      may     innocently     delight.' 
Works,  iv.  138. 

The  portrait  of  Nelson,  at  the  top 
of  the  staircase  in  the  Bodleian,  is  of 
a  splendidly-dressed  man. 

4  'You  find  the  King  of  Prussia 
dresses  plain  because  the  dignity  of  his 
character  is  sufficient.'     Life,  ii.  475. 
'  Whoever  differs  from  any  general 
custom  is  supposed  both  to  think  and 
to  proclaim  himself  wiser  than  the 

answer 


222 


Anecdotes. 


answer  to  the  arguments  urged  by  Puritans,  Quakers,  &c.  against 
showy  decorations  of  the  human  figure,  I  once  heard  him 
exclaim,  *  Oh,  let  us  not  be  found  when  our  Master  calls  us, 
ripping  the  lace  off  our  waistcoats,  but  the  spirit  of  contention 
from  our  souls  and  tongues  !  Let  us  all  conform  in  outward 
customs,  which  are  of  no  consequence,  to  the  manners  of  those 
whom  we  live  among,  and  despise  such  paltry  distinctions *.  Alas, 
Sir  (continued  he),  a  man  who  cannot  get  to  heaven  in  a  green 
coat,  will  not  find  his  way  thither  the  sooner  in  a  grey  one.'  On 
an  occasion  of  less  consequence,  when  he  turned  his  back  on 
Lord  Bolingbroke  in  the  rooms  at  Brighthelmstone,  he  made 
this  excuse :  *  I  am  not  obliged,  Sir  (said  he  to  Mr.  Thrale,  who 
stood  fretting),  to  find  reasons  for  respecting  the  rank  of  him  who 
will  not  condescend  to  declare  it  by  his  dress  or  some  other  visible 
mark  :  what  are  stars  and  other  signs  of  superiority  made  for  ?  ' 

The  next  evening  however  he  made  us  comical  amends,  by 
sitting  by  the  same  nobleman,  and  haranguing  very  loudly  about 
the  nature  and  use  and  abuse  of  divorces.  Many  people 
gathered  round  them  to  hear  what  was  said,  and  when  my 
husband  called  him  away,  and  told  him  to  whom  he  had  been 
talking — received  an  answer  which  I  will  not  write  down  2. 

rest  of  the  world.  ...  A  young  fellow  Bolingbroke.    He  had  been  divorced 

is   always  forgiven,   and    often    ap-  from  his  wife,  who  thereupon  married 

plauded,  when  he  carries  a  fashion  Topham  Beauclerk.     Life,  ii.  246. 
to  an  excess ;  but  never  if  he  stops          Johnson  in  a  note  on  the  last  scene 

short  of  it.     The  first  is  ascribed  to  in  the  third  act  of  The  Merry  Wives 

youth  and  fire ;  but  the  latter  is  im-  of  Windsor    says  : — '  There    is   no 

puted  to  an  affectation  of  singularity  image  which  our  author  appears  so 

or  superiority.'    Chesterfield's  Letters  fond  of  as  that  of  a  cuckold's  horns. 

to  his  Son,  iv.  23.  Scarcely  a  light  character  is  intro- 

1  *  He  repeated    his    observation  duced  that   does  not  endeavour  to 
that  the  differences  among  Christians  produce  merriment  by  some  allusion 
are  really  of  no  consequence.'     Life,  to  horned  husbands.' 

iii.  1 88.  Chesterfield  wrote  to  his  son  on 

2  Mrs.   Piozzi   has   noted    in    the  Feb.    n,    1766: — 'Lord  — ,   having 
margin  :— *  He  said,  "  Why,  Sir,   I  parted  with  his  wife,  now  keeps  an- 
did  not  know  the  man.     If  he  will  other  w — e  at   a  great  expense.     I 
put  on  no  other  mark  of  distinction  fear  he  is  totally  undone.'     Letters, 
let  us  make  him  wear  his  horns."  '  iv.  238.     '  Bolingbroke  '  is  the  name 
Hayward's  Piozzi,  i.  293.     He  was  suppressed.      See  Mahon's  edition, 
the    nephew    of   the    famous    Lord  v.  472. 

Though 


Anecdotes.  223 


Though  no  man  perhaps  made  such  rough  replies  as  Dr.  John 
son,  yet  nobody  had  a  more  just  aversion  to  general  satire  I ;  he 
always  hated  and  censured  Swift  for  his  unprovoked  bitterness 
against  the  professors  of  medicine 2 ;  and  used  to  challenge  his 
friends,  when  they  lamented  the  exorbitancy  of  physicians  fees, 
to  produce  him  one  instance  of  an  estate  raised  by  physic  in 
England  3.  When  an  acquaintance  too  was  one  day  exclaiming 
against  the  tediousness  of  the  law  and  its  partiality ;  '  Let 
us  hear,  Sir  (said  Johnson),  no  general  abuse  ;  the  law  is  the  last 
result  of  human  wisdom  acting  upon  human  experience  for 
the  benefit  of  the  public.' 

As  the  mind  of  Dr.  Johnson  was  greatly  expanded,  so  his  first 
care  was  for  general,  not  particular  or  petty  morality ;  and  those 
teachers  had  more  of  his  blame  than  praise,  I  think,  who  seek 
to  oppress  life  with  unnecessary  scruples 4  :  '  Scruples  would  (as 
he  observed)  certainly  make  men  miserable,  and  seldom  make 
them  good.  Let  us  ever  (he  said)  studiously  fly  from  those 
instructors  against  whom  our  Saviour  denounces  heavy  judg 
ments,  for  having  bound  up  burdens  grievous  to  be  borne, 
and  laid  them  on  the  shoulders  of  mortal  men.'  No  one  had 
however  higher  notions  of  the  hard  task  of  true  Christianity 
than  Johnson,  whose  daily  terror  lest  he  had  not  done  enough, 
originated  in  piety,  but  ended  in  little  less  than  disease.  Reason- 

1  Life,  iv.  313.     Post)  p.  327.  the    Observatory  at   Oxford,    which 

2  Of  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  Swift  wrote : —  bear  Dr.  Radcliffe's  name,  as  well  as 
'  O   if  the   world  had  but  a   dozen  his  foundations  at  University  College, 
Arbuthnots  in  it  I  would  burn  my  are  a   proof  that  one  doctor  at  all 
travels.'     Swift's    Works,   xvii.  212.  events  raised  an  estate  by  physic. 

In    a    poem    entitled    In   Sickness,  'Johnson,'  says  Boswell,  'had  in 

Written  in  Ireland,  1714,  he  laments  general  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  the 

that  he  is  company  of  physicians.'     Ib.  iv.  292. 

'  Remov'd  from  kind  Arbuthnot's  In  the  Life  of  Garth  he  says  :— '  I 

aid,  believe  every  man  has  found  in  phy- 

Who  knows  his   art  but   not  his  sicians  great  liberality  and   dignity 

trade.'     Ib.  x.  157.  of  sentiment,  very  prompt  effusion  of 

Johnson,  in  his  Life  of  Swift,  says  beneficence,  and  willingness  to  exert 

nothing  of  this  *  unprovoked  bitter-  a  lucrative  art  where  there  is  no  hope 

ness.'     P'or  his  attacks  on  Swift  see  of  lucre.'     Works,  vii.  402. 
Life,  ii.  65,  318 ;  iv.  61  ;  v.  44.  4  Ante,  p.  38. 

3  The  Library,  the  Infirmary  and 

able 


224 


Anecdotes. 


able  with  regard  to  others,  he  had  formed  vain  hopes  of  perform 
ing  impossibilities  himself;  and  finding  his  good  works  ever 
below  his  desires  and  intent,  filled  his  imagination  with  fears 
that  he  should  never  obtain  forgiveness  for  omissions  of  duty  and 
criminal  waste  of  time1.  These  ideas  kept  him  in  constant 
anxiety  concerning  his  salvation  ;  and  the  vehement  petitions 
he  perpetually  made  for  a  longer  continuance  on  earth,  were 
doubtless  the  cause  of  his  so  prolonged  existence ;  for  when 
I  carried  Dr.  Pepys  to  him  in  the  year  1782,  it  appeared  wholly 
impossible  for  any  skill  of  the  physician  or  any  strength  of  the 
patient  to  save  him.  He  was  saved  that  time  however  by  Sir 
Lucas's  prescriptions  ;  and  less  skill  on  one  side,  or  less  strength 
on  the  other,  I  am  morally  certain,  would  not  have  been  enough2. 
He  had  however  possessed  an  athletic  constitution,  as  he  said 
the  man  who  dipped  people  in  the  sea  at  Brighthelmstone 
acknowledged;  for  seeing  Mr.  Johnson  swim3  in  the  year  1766, 
Why  Sir  (says  the  dipper),  you  must  have  been  a  stout-hearted 
gentleman  forty  years  ago. 

Mr.  Thrale  and  he  used  to  laugh  about  that  story  very  often  : 
but  Garrick  told  a  better,  for  he  said  that  in  their  young  days, 
when  some  strolling  players  came  to  Litchfield,  our  friend  had 
fixed  his  place  upon  the  stage,  and  got  himself  a  chair  accord 
ingly  ;  which  leaving  for  a  few  minutes,  he  found  a  man  in  it  at 
his  return,  who  refused  to  give  it  back  at  the  first  intreaty : 
Mr.  Johnson  however,  who  did  not  think  it  worth  his  while  to 
make  a  second,  took  chair  and  man  and  all  together,  and  threw 
them  all  at  once  into  the  pit.  I  asked  the  Doctor  if  this  was 
a  fact  ?  '  Garrick  has  not  spoiled  it  in  the  telling  (said  he),  it  is 
very  near  true  to  be  sure  V 

Mr.  Beauclerc  too  related  one  day,  how  on  some  occasion  he 
ordered  two  large  mastiffs  into  his  parlour,  to  shew  a  friend  who 


1  Life,  iv.  299. 

2  According  to  Mrs.  Piozzi,  it  was 
only    by    his    petitions    to    heaven 
that  his  life  was  prolonged,  for  no 
thing  but  Sir  Lucas  Pepys's  skill  and 


his  own   strength   saved  his   life  in 
1782. 

3  Life,  ii.  299  ;  iii.  92,  n.  i. 

4  Garrick  gave  much  the  same  ac 
count  to  Boswell.    Ib.  ii.  299. 

was 


Anecdotes.  225 


was  conversant  in  canine  beauty  and  excellence,  how  the  dogs 
quarrelled,  and  fastening  on  each  other,  alarmed  all  the  company 
except  Johnson,  who  seizing  one  in  one  hand  by  the  cuff  of  the 
neck,  the  other  in  the  other  hand,  said  gravely,  '  Come,  gentle 
men  !  where's  your  difficulty  ?  put  one  dog  out  at  the  door,  and 
I  will  shew  this  fierce  gentleman  the  way  out  of  the  window : ' 
which,  lifting  up  the  mastiff  and  the  sash,  he  contrived  to 
do  very  expeditiously,  and  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
affrighted  company.  We  inquired  as  to  the  truth  of  this  curious 
recital.  '  The  dogs  have  been  somewhat  magnified,  I  believe 
Sir  (was  the  reply)  :  they  were,  as  I  remember,  two  stout  young 
pointers  ;  but  the  story  has  gained  but  little  V 

One  reason  why  Mr.  Johnson's  memory  was  so  particularly 
exact,  might  be  derived  from  his  rigid  attention  to  veracity ; 
being  always  resolved  to  relate  every  fact  as  it  stood 2,  he  looked 
even  on  the  smaller  parts  of  life  with  minute  attention,  and 
remembered  such  passages  as  escape  cursory  and  common 
observers.  '  A  story  (says  he)  is  a  specimen  of  human  manners, 
and  derives  its  sole  value  from  its  truth.  When  Foote3  has 
told  me  something,  I  dismiss  it  from  my  mind  like  a  passing 
shadow :  when  Reynolds  tells  me  something,  I  consider  myself 
as  possessed  of  an  idea  the  more.' 

Mr.  Johnson  liked  a  frolic  or  a  jest  well  enough ;  though  he 
had  strange  serious  rules  about  it  too :  and  very  angry  was  he  if 
any  body  offered  to  be  merry  when  he  was  disposed  to  be  grave. 
'You  have  an  ill-founded  notion  (said  he)  that  it  is  clever  to 
turn  matters  off  with  a  joke  (as  the  phrase  is) ;  whereas  nothing 

1  'Topham    Beauclerk    told   me,'  2  7^.iii.228and/^/,p.  297.  'Some 

writes  Boswell,  '  that  at  his  house  in  indulgence,  however,  to  lying  or  fic- 

the  country,  two  large  ferocious  dogs  tion   is  given   in   humorous  stories, 

were  righting.     Dr.  Johnson  looked  because  it  is  there  really  agreeable 

steadily  at  them  for  a  little  while ;  and  and  entertaining,  and  truth  is  not  of 

then,  as  one  would  separate  two  little  any   importance.'     Hume's   Essays, 

boys,  who  were  foolishly  hurting  each  ed.  1770,  iv.  138. 

other,  he  ran  up  to  them,  and  cuffed  3  '  Foote,'  said  Johnson,  '  is  quite 

their    heads    till     he    drove    them  impartial,  for  he  tells  lies  of  every- 

asunder.'    Life,  v.  329.  body.'    Life,  ii.  434.    See  post,  p.  265. 

VOL.  I.                                        Q  produces 


226  Anecdotes. 


produces  enmity  so  certain,  as  one  person's  shewing  a  disposition 
to  be  merry  when  another  is  inclined  to  be  either  serious  or 
displeased.' 

One  may  gather  from  this  how  he  felt,  when  his  Irish  friend 
Grierson I,  hearing  him  enumerate  the  qualities  necessary  to  the 
formation  of  a  poet,  began  a  comical  parody  upon  his  ornamented 
harangue  in  praise  of  a  cook,  concluding  with  this  observation, 
that  he  who  dressed  a  good  dinner  was  a  more  excellent  and 
a  more  useful  member  of  society  than  he  who  wrote  a  good 
poem.  '  And  in  this  opinion  (said  Mr.  Johnson  in  reply)  all  the 
dogs  in  the  town  will  join  you/ 

Of  this  Mr.  Grierson  I  have  heard  him  relate  many  droll  stories, 
much  to  his  advantage  as  a  wit,  together  with  some  facts  more 
difficult  to  be  accounted  for  ;  as  avarice  never  was  reckoned 
among  the  vices  of  the  laughing  world.  But  Johnson's  various 
life,  and  spirit  of  vigilance  to  learn  and  treasure  up  every 
peculiarity  of  manner,  sentiment,  or  general  conduct,  made  his 
company,  when  he  chose  to  relate  anecdotes  of  people  he  had 
formerly  known,  exquisitely  amusing  and  comical.  It  is  indeed 
inconceivable  what  strange  occurrences  he  had  seen,  and  what 
surprising  things  he  could  tell  when  in  a  communicative  humour2. 
It  is  by  no  means  my  business  to  relate  memoirs  of  his  acquaint 
ance  ;  but  it  will  serve  to  shew  the  character  of  Johnson  himself, 
when  I  inform  those  who  never  knew  him,  that  no  man  told 
a  story  with  so  good  a  grace,  or  knew  so  well  what  would  make 
an  effect  upon  his  auditors 3.  When  he  raised  contributions  for 
some  distressed  author,  or  wit  in  want,  he  often  made  us  all  more 
than  amends  by  diverting  descriptions  of  the  lives  they  were  then 

1  '  His  Majesty's  printer  at  Dublin,  madam.  She  was  habitually  a  slut  and 
a  gentleman  of  uncommon  learning  a  drunkard,  and  occasionally  a  thief 
and  great  wit  and  vivacity.'     Life,  and   a   harlot." '     Mme.   U'Arblay's 
ii.  116.  Diary,  i.  88. 

2  '  "  I  have  known  all  the  wits,"  3  Hawkins  (Life,  p.  258)  says,  that 
Dr.  Johnson  said,  "from  Mrs.  Mon-  'in  the  talent  of  humour  there  hardly 
tagu    down   to    Bet    Flint."      "  Bet  ever  was    Johnson's    equal,   except 
Flint ! "  cried  Mrs.  Thrale.     "  Pray,  perhaps  among  the  old  comedians.' 
who  is  she  ?  "    "  Oh,  a  fine  character, 

passing 


Anecdotes.  227 


passing  in  corners  unseen  by  any  body  but  himself  and  that  odd 
old  surgeon  whom  he  kept  in  his  house  to  tend  the  out-pensioners J, 
and  of  whom  he  said  most  truly  and  sublimely,  that 

In  misery's  darkest  caverns  known, 

His  useful  care  was  ever  nigh, 
Where  hopeless  anguish  pours  her  groan, 

And  lonely  want  retires  to  die2. 

I  have  forgotten  the  year,  but  it  could  scarcely  I  think  be 
later  than  1765  or  1766,  that  he  was  called  abruptly  from  our 
house  after  dinner,  and  returning  in  about  three  hours,  said, 
he  had  been  with  an  enraged  author,  whose  landlady  pressed 
him  for  payment  within  doors,  while  the  bailiffs  beset  him  with 
out  ;  that  he  was  drinking  himself  drunk  with  Madeira  to  drown 
care,  and  fretting  over  a  novel  which  when  finished  was  to  be  his 
whole  fortune  ;  but  he  could  not  get  it  done  for  distraction,  nor 
could  he  step  out  of  doors  to  offer  it  to  sale.  Mr.  Johnson  there 
fore  set  away  the  bottle,  and  went  to  the  bookseller,  recommend 
ing  the  performance,  and  desiring  some  immediate  relief;  which 
when  he  brought  back  to  the  writer,  he  called  the  woman  of 
the  house  directly  to  partake  of  punch,  and  pass  their  time  in 
merriment. 

It  was  not  till  ten  years  after,  I  dare  say,  that  something 
in  Dr.  Goldsmith's  behaviour  struck  me  with  an  idea  that  he  was 
the  very  man,  and  then  Johnson  confessed  that  he  was  so ;  the 
novel  was  the  charming  Vicar  of  Wakefield  3. 

1  Robert  Levett.       There    is    no  3  The 'extreme  inaccuracy' of  this 
reason  to  believe  that  Johnson  kept  anecdote  is  shown  by  Boswell.     Ib. 
him  for  that  purpose.    Levett  mainly  i.  416.     Of  one  fact  he  was  ignorant, 
supported   himself  by  his   practice.  Goldsmith  sold  the  Vicar  of  Wake- 
Ante,  p.  205,  n.  2.     As  Johnson  says  field  in  1762  (ib.  i.  415,  n.  i),  two  or 
in  his  lines  on  him  : —  three  years  before  Johnson  knew  the 

'  The  modest  wants  of  every  day  Thrales.     The  price  paid  for  it  was 

The  toil  of  every  day  supplied.'  ;£6o.    Ib.  i.  416.    'A  fine  first  edition 

Life,  iv.  138.  in  two  vols.  bound  in  red  morocco, 

2  'In     Misery's    darkest    caverns  published  in  Salisbury  in  1766*  was 

known,  sold  in  June,  1892,  for  ^96.    Daily 

His  ready  help  was  ever  nigh,       News,  July  I,  1892.     An  autograph 

Where  hopeless  Anguish  pour'd      letter  of  Goldsmith  to  Garrick  refer- 

his  groan,  ring  to  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  was 

And  lonely  want  retir'd  to  die.'       sold  by  auction  in  1885  for  ^34. 

Q  a  There 


228 


Anecdotes. 


There  was  a  Mr.  Boyce  too,  who  wrote  some  very  elegant 
verses  printed  in  the  Magazines  of  five-and -twenty  years  ago x, 
of  whose  ingenuity  and  distress  I  have  heard  Dr.  Johnson  tell 
some  curious  anecdotes  ;  particularly,  that  when  he  was  almost 
perishing  with  hunger,  and  some  money  was  produced  to 
purchase  him  a  dinner,  he  got  a  bit  of  roast  beef,  but  could 
not  eat  it  without  ketchup,  and  laid  out  the  last  half-guinea 
he  possessed  in  truffles  and  mushrooms,  eating  them  in  bed 
too,  for  want  of  clothes,  or  even  a  shirt  to  sit  up  in. 


Another  man  for  whom  he  often  begged,  made  as  wild  use  of 
his  friend's  beneficence  as  these,  spending  in  punch  the  solitary 
guinea  which  had  been  brought  him  one  morning ;  when  re 
solving  to  add  another  claimant  to  a  share  of  the  bowl,  besides 
a  woman  who  always  lived  with  him,  and  a  footman  who  used  to 
carry  out  petitions  for  charity,  he  borrowed  a  chairman's  watch, 
and  pawning  it  for  half  a  crown,  paid  a  clergyman  to  marry  him 
to  a  fellow-lodger  in  the  wretched  house  they  all  inhabited,  and 
got  so  drunk  over  the  guinea  bowl  of  punch  the  evening  of  his 
wedding-day,  that  having  many  years  lost  the  use  of  one  leg,  he 
now  contrived  to  fall  from  the  top  of  the  stairs  to  the  bottom, 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi  places  the  publication 
of  Samuel  Boyse's  verses  about  1761  ; 
he  died  in  1749.  In  the  Annual 
Register,  1764,  ii.  54,  a  memoir  of  him 
is  given.  Having  once  pawned  his 
clothes  *  he  sat  up  in  bed  with  the 
blanket  wrapt  about  him,  through 
which  he  had  cut  a  hole  large  enough 
to  admit  his  arm,  and  placing  the 
paper  upon  his  knee  scribbled  in  the 
best  manner  he  could  the  verses  he 
was  obliged  to  make.'  When  he  got 
some  of  his  clothes  out  of  pawn,  to 
supply  the  want  of  a  shirt,  '  he  cut 
some  white  paper  to  slips,  which  he 
tied  round  his  wrists,  and  in  the  same 
manner  supplied  his  neck.  In  this 
plight  he  frequently  appeared  abroad 
with  the  additional  inconvenience  of 
the  want  of  breeches.' 


Fielding,  in  Tom  Jones  (bk.  vii. 
ch.  i),  which  was  published  three  or 
four  months  before  Boyse's  death, 
makes  '  a  very  noble  quotation '  from 
his  poem  of  The  Deity. 

Johnson  told  Nichols  that  '  Boyse 
translated  well  from  the  French,  but 
if  any  one  employed  him,  by  the 
time  one  sheet  of  the  work  was  done 
he  pawned  the  original.  If  the  em 
ployer  redeemed  it,  a  second  sheet 
would  be  completed,  and  the  book 
again  be  pawned,  and  this  perpetu 
ally.  He  had  very  little  learning, 
but  wrote  verse  with  great  facility,  as 
fast  as  most  men  write  prose.'  Lit. 
Anec.  ix.  777.  See  also  Life,  iv.  408, 
442,  and  post  in  John  Nichols's 
Anecdotes. 

and 


Anecdotes. 


229 


and  break  his  arm,  in  which  condition  his  companions  left  him 
to  call  Mr.  Johnson,  who  relating  the  series  of  his  tragicomical 
distresses,  obtained  from  the  Literary  Club x  a  seasonable  relief2, 

Of  that  respectable  society  I  have  heard  him  speak  in  the 
highest  terms,  and  with  a  magnificent  panegyric  on  each  mem 
ber,  when  it  consisted  only  of  a  dozen  or  fourteen  friends 3 ;  but 
as  soon  as  the  necessity  of  enlarging  it  brought  in  new  faces,  and 
took  off  from  his  confidence  in  the  company,  he  grew  less  fond 
of  the  meeting,  and  loudly  proclaimed  his  carelessness  ivho 
might  be  admitted,  when  it  was  become  a  mere  dmner  club4. 


1  Steevens,  in  the  Gent.  Mag.  for 
1785,   P.   98,    under    the    signature 
of  Aldebaran  (see  Nichols's  Lit.  Hist. 
v.  443)  says: — '  Since  Mr.  Garrick's 
funeral   this    association    has    been 
called  (what  I  am  told  it  has  never 
called  itself)  THE  LITERARY  CLUB.' 
Boswell  apparently  was  pleased  with 
the  name.     Life,   i.  477 ;    iv.   326 ; 
v.  109,  >*.  5. 

Literary  is  not  in  Johnson's  Dic 
tionary. 

2  Mrs.  Piozzi  says  this  man  was 
Joseph  Simpson.    Hayvvard's  Piozzi, 
ii.   84.      According  to   the   account 
given  of  Simpson  by  Murphy,  he  was 
'a  schoolfellow  of  Dr.  Johnson's,  a 
barrister,  of  good  parts,  but  who  fell 
into  a  dissipated  course  of  life.  .  . . 
Yet  he  still  preserved  a  dignity  in 
his  deportment.'     Life,  iii.  28.     See 
ib.  i.  346  for  Johnson's  letter  to  him 
about  his  father's  inexorability  on  his 
marriage. 

3  See   ib.   v.   108,   where   he  and 
Boswell  filled  the  chairs  of  an  im 
aginary    'very    capital    University' 
with  members  of  their  Club. 

4  He  wrote  to  Boswell  on  March  1 1, 
1777  : — '  It  is  proposed  to  augment 
our  club  from  twenty  to  thirty,  of 
which  I  am  glad ;    for  as  we  have 
several  in  it  whom  I  do  not  much 


like  to  consort  with,  I  am  for  re 
ducing  it  to  a  mere  miscellaneous 
collection  of  conspicuous  men,  with 
out  any  determinate  character.'  Ib. 
iii.  106. 

Malone,  writing  about  his  attempt 
to  get  into  the  Literary  club,  says  : — 
'  I  am  not  quite  so  anxious  as 
Agmondesham  Vesey  was,  who,  I 
am  told,  had  couriers  stationed  to 
bring  him  the  quickest  intelligence 
of  his  success.'  Hist.  MSS.  Com. 
Twelfth  Report,  x.  App.  344.  Vesey 
was  elected  on  April  2,  1773.  Cro- 
ker's  Boswell,  ed.  1844,  ii.  326. 

Reynolds  wrote  to  Bishop  Percy 
on  Feb.  12, 1783  : — 'The  Club  seems 
to  flourish  this  year;  we  have  had 
Mr.  Fox,  Burke  and  Johnson  very 
often.  I  mention  those  because  they 
are,  or  have  been,  the  greatest  truants.' 
Nichols's  Lit.  Hist.  viii.  205, 

Macaulay  wrote  on  March  20, 
1839 : — '  I  have  this  instant  a  note 
from  Lord  Lansdowne,  who  was  in 
the  chair  of  the  Club  yesterday  night, 
to  say  that  I  am  unanimously  elected.' 
On  April  9  he  entered  in  his  Diary  : — 
'  I  went  to  the  Thatched  House,  and 
was  well  pleased  to  meet  the  Club 
for  the  first  time.  ...  I  was  amused, 
in  turning  over  the  records  of  the 
Club,  to  come  upon  poor  Bozzy's 
I  think 


230 


Anecdotes. 


I  think  the  original  names,  when  I  first  heard  him  talk 
with  fervor  of  every  member's  peculiar  powers  of  instructing 
or  delighting  mankind,  were  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Mr.  Burke, 
Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  Dr.  Percy,  Dr.  Nugent,  Dr.  Gold 
smith,  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  Mr.  Dyer,  and  Sir  Joshua  Rey 
nolds,  whom  he  called  their  Romulus x,  or  said  somebody  else  of 
the  company  called  him  so,  which  was  more  likely :  but  this 
was,  I  believe,  in  the  year  1775  or  1776.  It  was  a  supper  meet 
ing  then,  and  I  fancy  Dr.  Nugent  ordered  an  omelet  sometimes 
on  a  Friday  or  Saturday  night 2 ;  for  I  remember  Mr.  Johnson 
felt  very  painful  sensations  at  the  sight  of  that  dish  soon  after 
his  death,  and  cried,  '  Ah,  my  poor  dear  friend  !  I  shall  never  eat 
omelet  with  thce  again ! '  quite  in  an  agony.  The  truth  is,  nobody 
suffered  more  from  pungent  sorrow  at  a  friend's  death  than 
Johnson,  though  he  would  suffer  no  one  else  to  complain  of  their 
losses  in  the  same  way  3  ;  'for  (says  he)  we  must  either  outlive 


signature,  evidently  affixed  when  he 
was  too  drunk  to  guide  his  pen.' 
Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ed.  1877,1!.  52. 

In  the  winter  of  1857-1858  Grote 
was  invited  to  join  the  Club,  but  he 
refused.  When  Lord  Overstone, 
after  in  vain  urging  him,  was  taking 
his  leave,  Mrs.  Grote  '  whispered  to 
him,  "  Slip  a  shilling  into  his  hand, 
and  enlist  him  in  the  name  of  the 
Club." '  '  Lord  O.  (ever  alive  to  a 
joke)  accomplished  this  "  legerde 
main  "  on  shaking  hands,  and  hurry 
ing  down  the  stairs  left  Grote  laugh 
ing  over  this  "  impromptu  "  trick, 
and  exclaiming,  as  he  looked  down 
at  the  coin,  "  How  very  absurd ! " 
He  surrendered  at  discretion  and 
frequented  the  meetings  of  "The 
Club"  with  more  and  more  relish 
as  years  rolled  on,  confessing  that 
"it  certainly  was  the  best  literary 
talk  to  be  had  in  London." '  Life 
of  George  Grote,  1873,  p.  240. 

1  Percy,  Chambers,  and  Dyer  were 
not  among  the  original  members. 
Johnson  and  Chamier  are  omitted. 


According  to  Malone  Reynolds 
'started  the  first  thought  of  the 
Club  to  Johnson  at  his  own  fireside.' 
Life,  i.  477  ;  Prior's  Malone,  p.  434. 
In  the  Malone  MSS.  in  the  British 
Museum,  No.  36,  is  an  account  of 
a  resolution  of  the  Club  to  raise 
a  subscription  for  a  monument  in 
St.  Paul's  to  *  Sir  J.  Reynolds,  one  of 
the  founders  of  the  Club;'  Johnson 
is  mentioned  as  '  our  other  founder.' 

2  In  1766  Monday  was  the  night 
of  meeting.     In  1772  it  was  changed 
to  Friday.    Life,  i.  478,  n.  3.    It  was 
no    doubt   at   the   Friday   meetings 
that   Nugent,   who   was    a    Roman 
Catholic,    ordered   an   omelet.     He 
died  on  Nov.  12,  1775.  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1775,  p.  551. 

The  Friday  Club  instituted  in 
Edinburgh,  in  June  1 803, was  founded, 
Lockhart  believed,  on  the  model  of 
the  Club.  Among  its  original  mem 
bers  were  Sydney  Smith,  Scott, 
Brougham,  and  Jeffrey.  Lockhart's 
Scott,  iii.  240. 

3  Ante,  p.  205. 

our 


Anecdotes.  231 


our  friends  you  know,  or  our  friends  must  outlive  us  ;  and  I  see 
no  man  that  would  hesitate  about  the  choice  V 

Mr.  Johnson  loved  late  hours  extremely,  or  more  properly 
hated  early  ones 2.  Nothing  was  more  terrifying  to  him  than  the 
idea  of  retiring  to  bed,  which  he  never  would  call  going  to  rest, 
or  suffer  another  to  call  so.  '  I  lie  down  (said  he)  that  my 
acquaintance  may  sleep  ;  but  I  lie  down  to  endure  oppressive 
misery,  and  soon  rise  again  to  pass  the  night  in  anxiety  and  pain.' 
By  this  pathetic  manner,  which  no  one  ever  possessed  in  so 
eminent  a  degree,  he  used  to  shock  me  from  quitting  his  com 
pany,  till  I  hurt  my  own  health  not  a  little  by  sitting  up  with 
him  when  I  was  myself  far  from  well :  nor  was  it  an  easy  matter 
to  oblige  him  even  by  compliance,  for  he  always  maintained 
that  no  one  forbore  their  own  gratifications  for  the  sake  of 
pleasing  another,  and  if  one  did  sit  up  it  was  probably  to 
amuse  one's  self.  Some  right  however  he  certainly  had  to  say 
so,  as  he  made  his  company  exceedingly  entertaining  when  he 
had  once  forced  one,  by  his  vehement  lamentations  and  piercing 
reproofs,  not  to  quit  the  room,  but  to  sit  quietly  and  make  tea 
for  him,  as  I  often  did  in  London  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing3.  At  Streatham  indeed  I  managed  better,  having  always 

1  '  He  that  lives  must  grow  old  ;  into  which  the  King  breaks  imme- 
and  he  that  would  rather  grow  old  diately  as  soon  as  he  is  left  alone, 
than  die  has  God  to  thank  for  the  in-  Something  like  this  on  less  occasions 
firmities  of  old  age.'     Life,  iv.  156.  every  breast   has  felt.      Reflection 
Horace  Walpole  writes  (Letters,  vi.  and  seriousness  rush  upon  the  mind 
475)  ;— '  How   often   do    our    griefs  upon  the  separation  of  a  gay  corn- 
become  our  comforts  !    I  know  what  pany,  and  especially  after  forced  and 
I  wish  to-day ;  not  at  all  what  I  shall  unwilling  merriment.' 

wish  to-morrow.   Sixty  says,  You  did  Hawkins   records    how  Johnson, 

not  wish  for  me,  yet  you  would  like  little  more   than  a  year  before  his 

to  keep  me.     Sixty  is  in  the  right ;  death,  when  his  three  friends  of  the 

and  1  have  not  a  wordmore  to  say.'  old  Ivy  Lane  Club,  who  had  met  to 

2  '  Whoever    thinks   of  going   to  dine   at  half  an   hour  after  three, 
bed  before  twelve  o'clock,'  he  said,  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  stay 
'is  a  scoundrel.'    Life,  iii.  i,  n.  2.  beyond  ten  o'clock,  'left  them  with  a 

3  In  a  note  on  the  King's  solilo-  sigh  that  seemed  to  come  from  his 
quy  in  Henry  V,  Act  iv.  sc.  1. 1.  247,  heart,  lamenting  that  he  was  retiring 
he  says  : — '  There  is  something  very  to  solitude    and   cheerless    medita- 
striking  and  solemn  in  this  soliloquy,  tion.'     Life,  iv.  435. 

some 


232 


Anecdotes. 


some  friend  who  was  kind  enough  to  engage  him  in  talk,  and 
favour  my  retreat x. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  this  extraordinary  man  was  in  the 
year  J7642,  when  Mr.  Murphy,  who  had  been  long  the  friend 
and  confidential  intimate  of  Mr.  Thrale 3,  persuaded  him  to  wish 
for  Johnson's  conversation,  extolling  it  in  terms  which  that  of  no 
other  person  could  have  deserved,  till  we  were  only  in  doubt  how 
to  obtain  his  company,  and  find  an  excuse  for  the  invitation. 
The  celebrity  of  Mr.  Woodhouse  a  shoemaker,  whose  verses 
were  at  that  time  the  subject  of  common  discourse4,  soon 


V 


1  Dr.  Burney  told  Boswell  that  in 
the  year  1775,  'he  very  frequently 
met  Dr.  Johnson  at  Mr.  Thrale's,  at 
Streatham,   where  they  had  many 
long  conversations,  often  sitting  up 
as  long  as  the  fire  and  candles  lasted, 
and  much  longer  than  the  patience 
of  the  servants  subsisted.'     Life,  ii. 
407. 

2  In  her  Thraliana  she  had  re 
corded  : — '  It   was    on    the    second 
Thursday  of  the  month  of  January, 
1765  that  I  first  saw  Mr.  Johnson  in 
a  room.    Murphy  ...  so  whetted  our 
desire  of  seeing  him  soon  that  we 
were  only  disputing  how  he  should 
be  invited,  when  he  should  be  in 
vited,  and  what  should  be  the  pre 
tence.     At  last  it  was  resolved  that 
one  Woodhouse,  a  shoemaker,  who 
had  written  some  verses  and  been 
asked  to  some  tables,  should  like 
wise  be  asked  to  ours,  and  made  a 
temptation  to  Mr.  Johnson  to  meet 
him :  accordingly  he  came  [to  our 
house  in  Southwark]  and  Mr.  Mur 
phy  at  four  o'clock  brought  Mr.  John 
son  to  dinner.    We  liked  each  other 
so  well  that  the  next  Thursday  was 
appointed  for  the  same  company  to 
meet,   exclusive  of  the  shoemaker, 
and    since   then  Johnson    has    re 
mained    till   this  day   our  constant 
acquaintance,    visitor,     companion, 


and  friend.'    Hayward's  Piozzi,  2nd 
ed.  i.  13. 

Had  this  passage  been  published 
in  the  first  edition  I  might  have 
spared  my  readers  a  note  on  John 
son's  first  acquaintance  with  the 
Thrales.  Life,  i.  520. 

3  'They    are    very   old    friends,' 
wrote   Miss  Burney  in   1779,  'and 
I  question  if  Mr.  Thrale  loves  any 
man    so    well.'     Mme.    D'Arblay's 
Diary,  i.  210.     For  Murphy's  intro 
duction  to  Johnson,  see  post,  p.  306. 

4  Mr.  R.  B.  Adam  of  Buffalo  has 
sent  me  a  copy  of  the  following  letter 
of  Woodhouse,  dated  July  28,  1809. 
To  whom  it  was  written  is  not  ap 
parent  :    '  I  shall  now  answer  your 
Request   concerning    the  Anecdote 
relating  to  Dr.  Johnson  and  myself, 
which  is  simply  this — I  was  informed, 
at    the   Time,   that    Dr.   Johnson's 
Curiosity  was  excited,  by  what  was 
said  of  me  in  the  literary  World,  as 
a    kind    of   wild    Beast    from    the 
Country,  and  express'd  a  Wish  to 
Mr.  Murphy,  who  was  his  intimate 
Friend,  to  see  me.     In  consequence 
of  which,   Mr.  Murphy,   being   ac 
quainted  with  Mrs.  Thrale,  intimated 
to  her  that  both  might  be  invited  to 
dine  there,  at  the  same  Time ;  for, 
until  then,  Dr.  Johnson  had  never 
seen    Mrs.  Thrale,  who,  no  Doubt 

afforded 


Anecdotes.  233 


afforded  a  pretence,  and  Mr.  Murphy  brought  Johnson  to  meet 
him,  giving  me  general  cautions  not  to  be  surprised  at  his  figure, 
dress,  or  behaviour.  What  I  recollect  best  of  the  day's  talk, 
was  his  earnestly  recommending  Addison's  works  to  Mr.  Wood- 
house  as  a  model  for  imitation.  *  Give  nights  and  days,  Sir 
(said  he),  to  the  study  of  Addison,  if  you  mean  either  to  be 
a  good  writer,  or  what  is  more  worth,  an  honest  man.'  When 
I  saw  something  like  the  same  expression  in  his  criticism  on  that 
author,  lately  published z,  I  put  him  in  mind  of  his  past  in 
junctions  to  the  young  poet,  to  which  he  replied,  '  That  he 
wished  the  shoemaker  might  have  remembered  them  as  well.' 
Mr.  Johnson  liked  his  new  acquaintance  so  much  however,  that 
from  that  time  he  dined  with  us  every  Thursday  through  the 
winter,  and  in  the  autumn  of  the  next  year  he  followed  us  to 
Brighthelmstone 2,  whence  we  were  gone  before  his  arrival ; 
so  he  was  disappointed  and  enraged,  and  wrote  us  a  letter 
expressive  of  anger3,  which  we  were  very  desirous  to  pacify, 
and  to  obtain  his  company  again  if  possible.  Mr.  Murphy 
brought  him  back  to  us  again  very  kindly,  and  from  that  time 
his  visits  grew  more  frequent,  till  in  the  year  1766  his  health, 

he  also  much  desir'd  to  see.  As  sons  of  Crispin  have,  to  balance 
a  confirmation  of  this  Statement,  their  account,  a  not  less  dispro- 
this  Anecdote  is  related  in  the  In-  portionate  catalogue  of  poets.'  Lock- 
troduction  to  one  of  the  Folio  Edi-  hart's  Scoff,  iii.  90. 
tions  of  the  Drs.  Dictionary;  where  I  'Whoever  wishes  to  attain  an 
I  have  seen  it,  or  my  Memory  English  style,  familiar  but  not  coarse, 
greatly  deceives  me.  A  close  In-  and  elegant  but  not  ostentatious, 
timacy  having  grown  up  betwixt  must  give  his  days  and  nights  to  the 
the  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale,  I  was  volumes  of  Addison.'  Works,  vii. 
a  second  Time  invited  to  dine  at  her  473.  Dr.  Beattie  wrote  to  Sir  W. 
Table  with  the  Dr.  at  which  Time  Forbes  on  Sept.  10, 1776,  more  than 
the  Circumstances  took  Place  which  five  years  before  the  Life  of  Addison 
are  recorded  in  your  Remarks  on  was  published,  '  If  I  were  to  give 
the  Drs.  Works.'  advice  to  a  young  man  on  the 
For  Johnson's  'contempt  of  the  subject  of  English  style  I  would 
notice  taken  of  Woodhouse '  see  desire  him  to  read  Addison  day  and 
Life,  ii.  127.  'It  is  said  that  the  night.'  Yorbes'sjBeattte,  ed.  1824, p. 
solitary  and  meditative  generation  237. 
of  cobblers  have  produced  a  larger  2  Letters,  i.  120. 
list  of  murders  and  other  domestic  3  This  letter  has  not  been  pub- 
crimes  than  any  other  mechanical  lished. 
trade  except  the  butchers ;  but  the 

which 


234 


Anecdotes. 


which  he  had  always  complained  of,  grew  so  exceedingly  bad, 
that  he  could  not  stir  out  of  his  room  in  the  court x  he  inhabited 
for  many  weeks  together,  I  think  months. 

Mr.  Thrale's  attentions  and  my  own  now  became  so  acceptable 
to  him,  that  he  often  lamented  to  us  the  horrible  condition  of  his 
mind,  which  he  said  was  nearly  distracted ;  and  though  he 
charged  us  to  make  him  odd  solemn  promises  of  secrecy  on 
so  strange  a  subject,  yet  when  we  waited  on  him  one  morning, 
and  heard  him,  in  the  most  pathetic  terms,  beg  the  prayers 
of  Dr.  Delap 2,  who  had  left  him  as  we  came  in,  I  felt  excessively 
affected  with  grief,  and  well  remember  my  husband  involuntarily 
lifted  up  one  hand  to  shut  his  mouth,  from  provocation  at  hear 
ing  a  man  so  wildly  proclaim  what  he  could  at  last  persuade  no 
one  to  believe ;  and  what,  if  true,  would  have  been  so  very  unfit 
to  reveal. 


Mr.  Thrale  went  away  soon  after,  leaving  me  with  him,  and 
bidding  me  prevail  on  him  to  quit  his  close  habitation  in  the 
court  and  come  with  us  to  Streatham,  where  I  undertook 
the  care  of  his  health,  and  had  the  honour  and  happiness  of 
contributing  to  its  restoration3.  This  task,  though  distressing 
enough  sometimes,  would  have  been  less  so  had  not  my  mother 
and  he  disliked  one  another  extremely,  and  teized  me  often  with 


1  Johnson's    Court,    Fleet-Street, 
into  which    he   moved   from    Inner 
Temple  Lane  between  July  15  and 
Oct.  2,  1765.     Letters,  i.  119,  n.  2. 

2  Murphy  calls  Dr.  Delap  '  Rector 
of  Lewes.'    Murphy's  Johnson,  p.  99. 
In   the    Gentleman's  Magazine  for 
1765,  p.  592,  is  his  preferment  to  the 
'  united  vicarages  of  I  ford  and  Kings 
ton.'      Both   parishes  are   close   to 
Lewes. 

He  was  a  poet  and  a  play-wright. 
Kemble,  writing  about  one  of  his 
pieces  which  was  brought  out  at 
Drury  Lane  in  1786,  says: — 'The 
Captives  were  set  at  liberty  last 
night  amidst  roars  of  laughter  [It 


was  a  tragedy.]  Cadell  bought  this 
sublime  piece  before  it  appeared  for 
fifty  pounds,  agreeing  to  make  it 
a  hundred  on  its  third  representa 
tion.  It  has  been  played  three 
times,  and  I  dare  say  old  Sancti 
mony  will  have  no  remorse  in  taking 
the  other  fifty.'  Prior's  Malone,  p. 
126. 

3  See  ante,  p.  43,  where  he  re 
cords  : — '  I  returned  from  Streatham, 
Oct.  i,  —  66,  having  lived  there  more 
than  three  months.'  In  his  last 
letter  to  her  he  speaks  of '  that  kind 
ness  which  soothed  twenty  years  of 
a  life  radically  wretched.'  Letters, 
ii.  407. 

perverse 


Anecdotes.  235 


perverse  opposition,  petty  contentions,  and  mutual  complaints. 
Her  superfluous  attention  to  such  accounts  of  the  foreign  politics 
as  are  transmitted  to  us  by  the  daily  prints  and  her  willingness 
to  talk  on  subjects  he  could  not  endure,  began  the  aversion  ;  and 
when,  by  the  peculiarity  of  his  style,  she  found  out  that  he 
teized  her  by  writing  in  the  newspapers  concerning  battles  and 
plots  which  had  no  existence,  only  to  feed  her  with  new  accounts 
of  the  division  of  Poland  perhaps,  or  the  disputes  between  the 
states  of  Russia  and  Turkey,  she  was  exceedingly  angry  to  be 
sure,  and  scarcely  I  think  forgave  the  offence  till  the  domestic 
distresses  of  the  year  1772  I  reconciled  them  to  and  taught  them 
the  true  value  of  each  other ;  excellent  as  they  both  were,  far 
beyond  the  excellence  of  any  other  man  and  woman  I  ever  yet 
saw.  As  her  conduct  too  extorted  his  truest  esteem,  her  cruel 
illness  excited  all  his  tenderness 2 ;  nor  was  the  sight  of  beauty, 
scarce  to  be  subdued  by  disease 3,  and  wit,  flashing  through  the 
apprehension  of  evil,  a  scene  which  Dr.  Johnson  could  see  with 
out  sensibility.  He  acknowledged  himself  improved  by  her 
piety,  and  astonished  at  her  fortitude,  and  hung  over  her  bed 
with  the  affection  of  a  parent,  and  the  reverence  of  a  son 4.  Nor 
did  it  give  me  less  pleasure  to  see  her  sweet  mind  cleared  of  all 
its  latent  prejudices,  and  left  at  liberty  to  admire  and  applaud 
that  force  of  thought  and  versatility  of  genius,  that  comprehen 
sive  soul  and  benevolent  heart  which  attracted  and  commanded 
veneration  from  all,  but  inspired  peculiar  sensations  of  delight 
mixed  with  reverence  in  those  who,  like  her,  had  the  opportunity 
to  observe  these  qualities,  stimulated  by  gratitude,  and  actuated 


1  See  post,  in   Sir  B.  Brookby's  that  year.     Ib.  i.  192,  n.  3. 

Anecdotes,  for  Johnson's  fabrication  2  Baretti,  in  a  MS.  Note  on  Piozzi 

of  a  battle  between  the  Russians  and  Letters,  i.   81,    says   that   'Johnson 

Turks.      The   first   mention   in   the  could   not   much   bear   Mrs.  Salus- 

Gentlemarfs  Magazine  of  the  divi-  bury,     nor     Mrs.    Salusbury     him, 

sion  of  Poland  is  in  the  number  for  when   they  first   knew   each   other. 

July,  1772,  p.   337,  by   which  time  But  her  cancer  moved  his  compas- 

Mrs.  Salusbury   had   been   at  least  sion,  and  made  them  friends.' 

a  year  dangerously  ill.     Letters,  i.  3  It  must  have  been  a  good  deal 

172,  1 80.     'The  domestic  distresses  subdued  by  age,  for  she  was  sixty- 

of    1772'    were    money    difficulties  six  when  she  died, 

caused  by  the  commercial  panic  of  4  Ante,  p.  66, 

by 


236  Anecdotes. 


by  friendship1.  When  Mr.  Thrale's  perplexities  disturbed  his 
peace,  dear  Dr.  Johnson  left  him  scarce  a  moment,  and  tried 
every  artifice  to  amuse  as  well  as  every  argument  to  console 
him :  nor  is  it  more  possible  to  describe  than  to  forget  his  pru 
dent,  his  pious  attentions  towards  the  man  who  had  some  years 
before  certainly  saved  his  valuable  life,  perhaps  his  reason,  by 
half  obliging  him  to  change  the  foul  air  of  Fleet-street  for  the 
wholesome  breezes  of  the  Sussex  downs 2. 

The  epitaph  engraved  on  my  mother's  monument 3  shews  how 
deserving  she  was  of  general  applause.  I  asked  Johnson  why  he 
named  her  person  before  her  mind :  he  said  it  was, '  because  every 
body  could  judge  of  the  one,  and  but  few  of  the  other.' 

Juxta  sepulta  est  HESTERA  MARIA 

Thomce  Cotton  de  Combermere  baronetti  Cestrien sis  filia, 
Johannis  Salusbury  armigeri  Flintiensis  uxor*. 

Forma  fell X)  felix  ingenio  ; 

Omnibus  jucunda,  suorum  amantissima. 

Linguis  artibusque  ita  exculta 

Ut  loquenti  nunquam  deessent 

Sermonis  nitor>  sententiarum  flosculi, 

SapienticB  gravitas,  leporum  gratia  :. 

Modum  servandi  adeo  perita, 

Ut  dcmestica  inter  negotia  literis  oblectaretur, 

Literarum  inter  delicias,  rem  familiarem  sedulo  curaret. 

Multis  illi  multos  annos  precantibus 

dirt  carcinomatis  veneno  contabuit, 

nexibusque  vita  paulatim  resolutis, 

e  terris—meliora  sperans — emigramt. 

Nata  1707.     Nupta  1739.     Obiit  1773. 

Mr.  Murphy,  who  admired  her  talents  and  delighted  in  her 
company,  did  me  the  favour  to  paraphrase  this  elegant  inscrip 
tion  in  verses  which  I  fancy  have  never  yet  been  published.  His 

1  He  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  shortly  indifference,    and  far    happier    still 

before    Mrs.    Salusbury's    death : —  than  with  counterfeited   sympathy.' 

'Is  it  a  good  or  an  evil  to  me  that  Letter -s,  i.  216. 

she  now  loves  me?     It  is  surely  a  2  It   was    to    Brighton    that    the 

good  ;   for  you  will  love  me  better,  Thrales  frequently  took  him. 

and  we  shall  have  a  new  principle  3  In  Streatharn  Church, 

of  concord ;   and  I  shall  be  happier  4  For   Mrs.  Piozzi's  pedigree  see 

with  honest  sorrow  than  with  sullen  Hayward's  Piozzi,  ii.  6. 

fame 


Anecdotes.  237 


fame  has  long  been  out  of  my  power  to  increase  as  a  poet I ;  as 
a  man  of  sensibility  perhaps  these  lines  may  set  him  higher  than 
he  now  stands.  I  remember  with  gratitude  the  friendly  tears 
which  prevented  him  from  speaking  as  he  put  them  into  my 
hand. 

Near  this  place 
Are  deposited  the  remains  of 

HESTER  MARIA, 

The  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Cotton  of  Comber- 
mere,  in  the  county  of  Cheshire,  Bart,  the  wife  of 

John  Salusbury, 

of  the  county  of  Flint,  Esquire.    She  was 

born  in  the  year  1707,  married  in  1739,  and  died 

in  1773. 

A  pleasing  form,  where  every  grace  combin'd, 
With  genius  blest,  a  pure  enlighten'd  mind; 
Benevolence  on  all  that  smiles  bestow'd, 
A  heart  that  for  her  friends  with  love  o'erflow'd : 
In  language  skill'd,  by 'science  form'd  to  please, 
Her  mirth  was  wit,  her  gravity  was  ease. 
Graceful  in  all,  the  happy  mien  [sic]  she  knew, 
Which  even  to  virtue  gives  the  limits  due  ; 
Whate'er  employ'd  her,  that  she  seem'd  to  chuse, 
Her  house,  her  friends,  her  business,  or  the  muse. 
Admir'd  and  lov'd,  the  theme  of  general  praise, 
All  to  such  virtue  wish'd  a  length  of  days ; 
But  sad  reverse !   with  slow-consuming  pains, 
Th'  envenom'd  cancer  revell'd  in  her  veins ; 
Prey'd  on  her  spirits — stole  each  power  away ; 
Gradual  she  sunk,  yet  smiling  in  decay ; 
She  smil'd  in  hope,  by  sore  afflictions  try'd, 
And  in  that  hope  the  pious  Christian  died. 

The  following  epitaph  on  Mr.  Thrale,  who  has  now  a  monu 
ment  close  by  her's  in  Streatham  church,  I  have  seen  printed 
and  commended  in  Maty's  Review  for  April  1784 2;  and  a  friend 
has  favoured  me  with  a  translation. 

1  'Speaking  of  Arthur  Murphy,  It  is  probable  that  this  was  said 
whom  he  very  much  loved,  "  I  don't  before  Goldsmith's  plays  were  writ- 
know  (said  Johnson)  that  Arthur  can  ten,  for  Dr.  Maxwell  who  reports  it 
be  classed  with  the  very  first  drama-  made  Johnson's  acquaintance  in  1754. 
tick  writers  ;  yet  at  present  I  doubt  Ib.  p.  116. 

much  whether  we   have  any  thing  2  A    New    Review.      By    Henry 

superiour  to  Arthur.'"    Life,  ii.  127.  Maty,  A.M.,  1784,  p.  269. 

Hie 


238  Anecdotes. 

Hie  conditur  quod  reliquum  est 

HENRICI  THRALE, 

Qui  res  seu  civiles,  seu  domesticas,  ita  egit, 
Ut  vitam  illi  longiorem  multi  optarent  j 

Ita  sacras, 

Ut  quam  brevem  esset  habiturus  prascire  videretur; 
Simplex,  apertus,  sibique  semper  similis, 
Nihil  ostentavit  aut  arte  fictum  aut  cura 

Elaboratum. 
In  senatu x,  regi  patriceque 

Fideliter  studuit; 
Vulgi  obstrepentis  contemptor  animosus^ 

Domi  inter  mille  mercaturcE  negotia 

Literarum  elegantiam  minimi  neglexit*. 

Amicis  quocunque  modo  laborantibus, 

Const  Ins,  auctoritate,  muneribus  adfuit. 

Inter  familiares,  comites,  convivas,  hospiles, 

Tarn  facili  fuit  morum  suavitate 
Ut  omnium  animos  ad  se  alliceretj 

Tarn  felici  sermonis  libertate 
Ut  nulli  adulatus,  omnibus  placeret. 

Natus  1724.     Ob.  1781. 

Consorfes  tumuli  habet  Rodolphum  patrem3,  strenuum 

fortemque  virum,  et  Henricum  filium  unicum, 

quern  spei  parentttm  mors  inopina  decennem 

prcEripuit"". 

Ita 

Domus  felix  et  opulenta,  quam  erexit 
Avus,  auxitque  pater,  cum  nepote  decidit. 

Abi  viator* / 

Et  vicibus  rerum  humanarum  perspectis, 
dLternitatem  cogita  ! 

1  He  was  member  for  Southwark  given  in  the  Life,  i.  490.     He  died 
for  more  than  fourteen  years.  on  April  8,    1758,   aged  60.     Man- 

2  '  On    Mr.    Barclay  becoming    a  ning  and  Bray's  History  of  Sussex, 
partner  in  the  brewery  Johnson  ad-  vol.  xxiii.  p.  392. 

vised  him  not  to  allow  his  commer-  4    Life,    ii.    468.      Another    son, 

cial  pursuits  to  divert  his  attention  Ralph,  had  died  in  infancy.    Letters, 

from  his  studies.     "A  mere  literary  i.  353. 

man,"  said  the  Doctor,   "is   a  dull  5  In  his  Essay  on  Epitaphs  (Works, 

man  ;  a  man  who  is  solely  a  man  of  v.  263),  Johnson   says  : — '  It  is  im- 

business  is  a  selfish  man  ;  but  when  proper  to  address  the  epitaph  to  the 

literature  and  commerce  are  united  passenger,  a  custom  which  an  inju- 

they    make    a     respectable    man."'  dicious  veneration  for  antiquity  intro- 

Croker's  Boswell,  ed.  1835,  x.  122.  duced  again  at  the  revival  of  letters/ 

For  respectable  see  Life,  iii.  241,  n.  2.  He  defines  passenger  as  '  a  traveller ; 

3  An  account  of  Ralph  Thrale  is  one  who  is  upon  the  road.' 

Here 


A  necdotes.  239 


Here  are  deposited  the  remains  of 

HENRY  THRALE, 

Who  managed  all  his  concerns  in  the  present 
world,  public  and  private,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  leave  many  wishing  he  had  continued 

longer  in  it ; 

And  all  that  related  to  a  future  world, 
'  as  if  he  had  been  sensible  how  short  a  time  he 

was  to  continue  in  this. 

Simple,  open,  and  uniform  in  his  manners, 

his  conduct  was  without  either  art  or  affectation. 

In  the  senate  steadily  attentive  to  the  true  interests 

of  his  king  and  country, 
He  looked  down  with  contempt  on  the  clamours 

of  the  multitude  : 

Though  engaged  in  a  very  extensive  business, 

He  found  some  time  to  apply  to  polite  literature : 

And  was  ever  ready  to  assist  his  friends 

labouring  under  any  difficulties, 
with  his  advice,  his  influence,  and  his  purse. 

To  his  friends,  acquaintance,  and  guests, 
he  behaved  with  such  sweetness  of  manners 

as  to  attach  them  all  to  his  person  : 

So  happy  in  his  conversation  with  them, 

as  to  please  all,  though  he  flattered  none. 

He  was  born  in  the  year  1724,  and  died  in  1781. 

In  the  same  tomb  lie  interred  his  father 

Ralph  Thrale,  a  man  of  vigour  and  activity, 

And  his  only  son  Henry,  who  died  before  his  father, 

Aged  ten  years. 

Thus  a  happy  and  opulent  family, 

Raised  by  the  grandfather,  and  augmented  by  the 

father,  became  extinguished  with  the  grandson. 

Go,  Reader, 
And  reflecting  on  the  vicissitudes  of 

all  human  affairs, 
Meditate  on  eternity. 

I  never  recollect  to  have  heard  that  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  in 
scriptions  for  any  sepulchral  stones,  except  Dr.  Goldsmith's 
in  Westminster  abbey,  and  these  two  in  Streatham  church1. 
He  made  four  lines  once,  on  the  death  of  poor  Hogarth,  which 

1  For  his  Latin  epitaph  on  Gold-  parents  and  brother,  ib.  iv.  393.  For 
smith  see  Life,  iii.  82 ;  on  his  wife,  his  English  epitaph  on  Mrs.  Jane 
ib.  i.  241,  n.)  and  for  those  on  his  Bell  see  Works,  i.  151. 

were 


240 


A  necdotes. 


were  equally  true  and  pleasing :  I  know  not  why  Garrick's  were 
preferred  to  them. 

The  hand  of  him  here  torpid  lies, 
That  drew  th'  essential  form  of  grace ; 
Here  clos'd  in  death  th'  attentive  eyes, 
That  saw  the  manners  in  the  face  x. 

Mr.  Hogarth,  among  the  variety  of  kindnesses  shewn  to  me 
when  I  was  too  young  to  have  a  proper  sense  of  them,  was  used 
to  be  very  earnest  that  I  should  obtain  the  acquaintance,  and  if 
possible  the  friendship  of  Dr.  Johnson,  whose  conversation  was 
to  the  talk  of  other  men,  like  Titian's  painting  compared  to 
Hudson's  2,  he  said :  but  don't  you  tell  people  now,  that  I  say  so 
(continued  he),  for  the  connoisseurs  and  I  are  at  war  you  know ; 
and  because  I  hate  them,  they  think  I  hate  Titian — and  let 
them3 ! Many  were  indeed  the  lectures  I  used  to  have  in  my 


1  Garrick  consulted  Johnson  about 
an  epitaph  in  three  stanzas  which  he 
had  made  for  Hogarth.  Johnson 
replied : — '  Suppose  you  worked  upon 
something  like  this  : — 
'The  Hand  of  Art  here  torpid 

lies 
That  traced  the  essential  form 

of  Grace : 
Here  death  has  closed  the  curious 

eyes 
That  saw  the  manners  in  the 

face. 
If   Genius    warm    thee,    Reader, 

stay, 
If   Merit  touch   thee,   shed   a 

tear ; 

Be  Vice  and  Dulness  far  away  ! 
Great  Hogarth's  honour'd  dust 

is  here.' 

Garrick  cut  down  his  own  copy  to 
two  stanzas,  which  finally  stood  as 
follows : — 

'  Farewel !    great  Painter  of  man 
kind  ! 

Who  reach'd  the  noblest  point 
of  Art, 


Whose  pictur'd  Morals  charm  the 

mind, 
And  thro'  the  eye  correct  the 

heart. 

If  thou  hast  Genius,  Reader,  stay, 
If  Nature  touch  thee,  drop  a 

tear; 

If  neither  move  thee,  turn  away, 

For  Hogarth's   honour'd   dust 

lies  here.'       Letters,  \.  186. 

2  For  Hogarth's  mistaking  John 
son  for  an  idiot  see  Life,  i.  146. 

Hudson  was  for  a  time,  'for  want 
of  a  better,  the  principal  portrait 
painter  in  England.'  Reynolds  was 
apprenticed  to  him.  Leslie  and  Tay 
lor's  Reynolds,  i.  20. 

3  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  May  5, 
1761   (Letters,    iii.  399)  :  —  'I  went 
t'other  morning  to  see  a  portrait  Ho 
garth  is  painting  of  Mr.  Fox.    He  told 
me   he    had   promised,   if  Mr.   Fox 
would  sit  as  he  liked,  to  make  as  good 
a    picture   as   Vandyke   or  Rubens 
could.     I  was  silent — "  Why  now," 
said  he,  "you  think  this  very  vain, 
but  why  should  not  one  speak  truth  ? " 

very 


Anecdotes. 


241 


very  early  days  from  dear  Mr.  Hogarth,  whose  regard  for  my 
father  induced  him  perhaps  to  take  notice  of  his  little  girl,  and 
give  her  some  odd  particular  directions  about  dress,  dancing,  and 
many  other  matters  interesting  now  only  because  they  were  his. 
As  he  made  all  his  talents,  however,  subservient  to  the  great 
purposes  of  morality,  and  the  earnest  desire  he  had  to  mend 
mankind,  his  discourse  commonly  ended  in  an  ethical  disserta 
tion,  and  a  serious  charge  to  me,  never  to  forget  his  picture  of 
the  Lady's  last  Stake'1.  Of  Dr.  Johnson,  when  my  father  and 
he  were  talking  together  about  him  one  day :  That  man  (says 
Hogarth)  is  not  contented  with  believing  the  Bible,  but  he  fairly 
resolves,  I  think,  to  believe  nothing  but  the  Bible.  Johnson 
(added  he),  though  so  wise  a  fellow,  is  more  like  king  David 
than  king  Solomon  ;  for  he  says  in  his  haste  that  all  men  are  liars. 
This  charge,  as  I  afterwards  came  to  know,  was  but  too  well 
founded  :  Mr.  Johnson's  incredulity  amounted  almost  to  disease2, 
and  I  have  seen  it  mortify  his  companions  exceedingly.  But 
the  truth  is,  Mr.  Thrale  had  a  very  powerful  influence  over  the 
Doctor,  and  could  make  him  suppress  many  rough  answers :  he 
could  likewise  prevail  on  him  to  change  his  shirt,  his  coat,  or 
his  plate,  almost  before  it  came  indispensably  necessary  to  the 
comfortable  feelings  of  his  friends3:  But  as  I  never  had  any 

This  truth  was  uttered  in  the  face  of  Hayward's  Piozzi,  i.  44  ;  ii.  309. 
his  own  Sigismonda,  which   is   ex-  2  '  He  was    indeed  so  much   im- 
actly  a  maudlin  w ,  tearing  off  the  pressed  with  the  prevalence  of  false- 
trinkets   that  her  keeper  had  given  hood,  voluntary  or  unintentional,  that 
her,  to  fling  at  his  head.'  I  never  knew  any  person  who  upon 

1  The  picture  was  founded  on  hearing  an  extraordinary  circum- 
Colley  Gibber's  play.  Mrs.  Thrale,  stance  told,  discovered  more  of  the 
according  to  Mr.  Hay  ward,  when  a  incredulus  odi.  He  would  say,  with 
girl  of  fourteen,  sat  to  Hogarth  for  a  significant  look  and  decisive  tone, 
the  Lady  in  this  picture.  According  "  It  is  not  so.  Do  not  tell  this 
to  her  account  he  said  to  her  : — '  You  again." '  Life,  iii.  229. 
are  not  fourteen  years  old  yet,  I  3  According  to  Boswell,  '  by  asso- 
think,  but  you  will  be  twenty-four,  ciating  with  Mrs.  Thrale  Johnson's 
and  this  portrait  will  then  be  like  external  appearance  was  much  im- 
you.  'Tis  the  lady's  last  stake ;  see  proved.'  Jb.  iii.  325.  Her  state- 
how  she  hesitates  between  her  money  ment  that  it  was  her  husband  who 
and  her  honour.  Take  you  care ;  I  brought  about  the  change  is  con- 
see  an  ardour  for  play  in  your  eyes  firmed  by  the  two  following  passages 
and  in  your  heart ;  don't  indulge  it.'  in  Johnson's  letters  to  her : — *  My 

VOL.  I.                                        R  ascendency 


242 


A  necdotes. 


ascendency  at  all  over  Mr.  Johnson,  except  just  in  the  things  that 
concerned  his  health,  it  grew  extremely  perplexing  and  difficult 
to  live  in  the  house  with  him  when  the  master  of  it  was  no  more x ; 
the  worse  indeed,  because  his  dislikes  grew  capricious ;  and  he 
could  scarce  bear  to  have  any  body  come  to  the  house  whom  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  see 2.  Two  gentlemen,  I  per 
fectly  well  remember,  dining  with  us  at  Streatham  in  the  Sum 
mer  1782,  when  Elliot's  brave  defence  of  Gibraltar  was  a  subject 
of  common  discourse,  one  of  these  men  naturally  enough  begun 
some  talk  about  red-hot  balls  thrown  with  surprizing  dexterity 
and  effect 3 :  which  Dr.  Johnson  having  listened  some  time  to, 
4 1  would  advise  you,  Sir  (said  he  with  a  cold  sneer)  never  to 
relate  this  story  again  :  you  really  can  scarce  imagine  how  very 
poor  a  figure  you  make  in  the  telling  of  it.'  Our  guest  being 
bred  a  Quaker  4,  and  I  believe  a  man  of  an  extremely  gentle  dis 
position,  needed  no  more  reproofs  for  the  same  folly ;  so  if  he 
ever  did  speak  again,  it  was  in  a  low  voice  to  the  friend  who 
came  with  him.  The  check  was  given  before  dinner 5,  and  after 


cloaths,  Mr.  Thrale  says,  must  be 
made  like  other  people's,  and  they 
are  gone  to  the  taylor.'  Letters,  i. 
322.  'I  will  send  directions  to  the 
taylor  to  make  me  some  cloaths  ac 
cording  to  Mr.  Thrale's  direction.' 
Ib.  ii.  39. 

1  '  I  know  no  man  (said  Johnson) 
who  is  more  master  of  his  wife  and 
family  than  Thrale.     If  he  but  holds 
up  his  finger  he  is  obeyed.'     Life,  i. 
494. 

2  Miss  Burney  writing  of  his  con 
duct  at  Brighton  in  the  late  autumn 
of  1782   says:— 'He    has    been    in 
a  terrible  severe  humour  of  late,  and 
has  really  frightened  all  the  people, 
till  they  almost  ran  from  him.     To 
me  only  I  think  he   is  now  kind, 
for  Mrs.    Thrale   fares   worse    than 
anybody.'     Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary, 
ii.  177.     See  also  Life,  iv.  159,  n.  3. 

3  It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1782  that 
the  news  of  the  defence  reached  Eng 
land.  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  Oct.  I 


(Letters,  viii.  286) : — '  I  have  this 
minute  received  a  letter  from  General 
Conway  with  these  words  : — "  I  have 
a  piece  of  good  news  to  tell  you, 
which  is  the  complete  and  entire 
defeat  of  the  long-meditated  attack 
on  Gibraltar,  which  began  on  the 
1 3th  [of  September]  at  3  p.m.,  and 
before  midnight  all  the  famous  bat 
teries  were  either  burnt  or  sunk  by 
our  red-hot  balls." ' 

4  This  Quaker  cannot  have  been 
Mr.   Barclay  the   purchaser  of  the 
brewery,  for  '  he  had  never  observed 
any  rudeness  or  violence  on  the  part 
of  Johnson.'     Croker's  Bos-well,  ed. 
1844,  x.  123.     Johnson  told  Boswell 
'that   he    liked    individuals    among 
the  Quakers,  but  not  the  sect.'   Life, 
ii.  458. 

5  According  to  Barclay,  '  Johnson, 
like  many  other  men,  was  always  in 
much   better   humour    after    dinner 
than  before.'     Croker's  Eoswettt  x. 
123. 

coffee 


Anecdotes.  243 


coffee  I  left  the  room.  When  in  the  evening  however  our  com 
panions  were  returned  to  London,  and  Mr.  Johnson  and  myself 
were  left  alone,  with  only  our  usual  family  about  us,  '  I  did  not 
quarrel  with  those  Quaker  fellows,'  (said  he,  very  seriously.)  You 
did  perfectly  right,  replied  I ;  for  they  gave  you  no  cause  of 
offence.  .'  No  offence  !  (returned  he  with  an  altered  voice  ;)  and 
is  it  nothing  then  to  sit  whispering  together  when  /  am  present, 
without  ever  directing  their  discourse  towards  me,  or  offering  me 
a  share  in  the  conversation  ? '  That  was,  because  you  frighted 
him  who  spoke  first  about  those  hot  balls.  *  Why,  Madam,  if 
a  creature  is  neither  capable  of  giving  dignity  to  falsehood,  nor 
willing  to  remain  contented  with  the  truth,  he  deserves  no  better 
treatment/ 

Mr.  Johnson's  fixed  incredulity  of  every  thing  he  heard,  and 
his  little  care  to  conceal  that  incredulity,  was  teizing  enough 
to  be  sure x :  and  I  saw  Mr.  Sharp 2  was  pained  exceedingly, 
when  relating  the  history  of  a  hurricane  that  happened  about 
that  time  in  the  West  Indies 3,  where,  for  aught  I  know,  he  had 

1  '  Talking  of  Dr.  Johnson's  un-  and  human  ;  to  4°ubt  the  second  ; 
willingness  to  believe  extraordinary  and  when  obliged  by  unquestionable 
things,  I  ventured  to  say,  "  Sir,  you  testimony, ...  to  admit  of  something 
come  near  Hume's  argument  against  extraordinary,  to  receive  as  little  of  it 
miracles,  '  That  it  is  more  probable  as  is  consistent  with  the  known  facts 
witnesses  should  lie,  or  be  mistaken,  and  circumstances.'  Hume's  His- 
than  that  they  should  happen.'"  tory  of  England,  ed.  1773,  iii.  143. 
Life,  iii.  188.  For  Hume's  argument  2  Perhaps  Richard  Sharpe,  corn- 
see  ib.  i.  444,  n.  3.  monly  known  as  '  Conversation 

*  The  wisest  and  most  experienced  Sharpe.'     H.  C.  Robinson  (Diary,  ii. 

are    generally  the    least   credulous.  412)  wrote  of  him  in  1829: — *  In  his 

But  the  man  scarce  lives  who  is  not  room  were  five  most  interesting  por- 

more  credulous  than  he  ought  to  be.  traits,  all  of  men  he  knew — Johnson, 

.  .  .  The  natural  disposition  is  always  Burke  and  Reynolds,  by  Reynolds, 

to  believe.     It   is   acquired  wisdom  Henderson  by    Gainsborough,    and 

and  experience  only  that  teach  in-  Mackintosh  by  Opie.'    Among  those 

credulity,  and  they  very  seldom  teach  present   at   Johnson's    Funeral  was 

it  enough.'     Adam    Smith's   Moral  a  Mr.  Sharp.  Letters,  ii.  434.   Samuel 

Sentiments,  ed.  1801,  ii.  326.  Sharp,  the  author  of  Letters  from 

'It  is  the  business  of  history  to  Italy  (Life,  iii.  55),  died  in  1778. 

distinguish  between  the  miraculous  3  Probably  the  hurricane  of  Oct.  3, 

and  the  marvellous',   to  reject  the  1780,  described  in  the  Annual  Regis- 

first  in  all  narrations  merely  profane  ter,  1780,  i.  292. 

R  a                                          himself 


244  Anecdotes. 


himself  lost  some  friends  too,  he  observed  Dr.  Johnson  believed 
not  a  syllable  of  the  account :  '  For  'tis  so  easy  (says  he)  for 
a  man  to  fill  his  mouth  with  a  wonder,  and  run  about  telling  the 
lie  before  it  can  be  detected,  that  I  have  no  heart  to  believe 
hurricanes  easily  raised  by  the  first  inventor,  and  blown  forwards 
by  thousands  more.'  I  asked  him  once  if  he  believed  the  story 
of  the  destruction  of  Lisbon  by  an  earthquake  when  it  first  hap 
pened  :  '  Oh  !  not  for  six  months  (said  he)  at  least :  I  did  think 
that  story  too  dreadful  to  be  credited,  and  can  hardly  yet  per 
suade  myself  that  it  was  true  to  the  full  extent  we  all  of  us  have 
heard '.' 

Among  the  numberless  people  however  whom  I  heard  him 
grossly  and  flatly  contradict,  I  never  yet  saw  any  one  who  did 
not  take  it  patiently  excepting  Dr.  Burney,  from  whose  habitual 
softness  of  manners  I  little  expected  such  an  exertion  of  spirit : 
the  event  was  as  little  to  be  expected.  Mr.  Johnson  asked  his 
pardon  generously  and  genteelly,  and  when  he  left  the  room  rose 
up  to  shake  hands  with  him,  that  they  might  part  in  peace2. 
On  another  occasion,  when  he  had  violently  provoked  Mr.  Pepys3, 
in  a  different  but  perhaps  not  a  less  offensive  manner,  till  some 
thing  much  too  like  a  quarrel  was  grown  up  between  them,  the 
moment  he  was  gone,  '  Now  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  is  Pepys  gone 
home  hating  me,  who  love  him  better  than  I  did  before ;  he 
spoke  in  defence  of  his  dead  friend 4 ;  but  though  I  hope  7  spoke 
better  who  -spoke  against  him,  yet  all  my  eloquence  will  gain  me 
nothing  but  an  honest  man  for  an  enemy ! '  He  did  not  how- 

1  He    wrote,    I    have    no    doubt,  2  Ib.  iv.  49,  n.  3. 

the  review  in  the  Literary  Magazine  3  William  Weller  Pepys,  a  Master 

for  1756  (p.  22),  of  A   True  Account  in  Chancery,  brother  of  Sir   Lucas 

of  Lisbon  since  the  Earthquake,  in  Pepys   (Life,  iv.  169),  and  father  of 

which  it  is  stated  that  the  destruc-  Lord  Chancellor  Cottenham.  Samuel 

tion  was  grossly  exaggerated.     After  Pepys,  the  author  of  the  Diary,  was 

quoting  the  writer  at  lengt/h,  he  con-  of  the  same  family.     Letters,  ii.  136, 

eludes  : — '  Such  then  is  the  actual,  n.  i. 

real   situation   of  that  place   which  4  The    ( dead    friend '    was    Lord 

once  was  Lisbon,  and  has  been  since  Lyttelton.  For  Miss  Burney's  account 

gazetically  and  pamphletically  quite  of  this  quarrel  see  Mme.  D'Arblay's 

destroyed,  consumed,  annihilated  ! '  Diary,  ii.  45,  82,  290,  and  Life,  iv. 

See  Life,  i.  309,  n.  3.  65,  n.  I. 

ever 


Anecdotes.  245 


ever  cordially  love  Mr.  Pepys,  though  he  respected  -his  abilities. 
*  I  knew  the  dog T  was  a  scholar  (said  he,  when  they  had  been 
disputing  about  the  classics  for  three  hours  together  one  morning 
at  Streatham) ;  but  that  he  had  so  much  taste  and  so  much 
knowledge  I  did  not  believe  :  I  might  have  taken  Barnard's  word 
though,  for  Barnard 2  would  not  lie.' 

We  had  got  a  little  French  print  among  us  at  Brighthelm- 
stone,  in  November  1782,  of  some  people  skaiting,  with  these 
lines  written  under : 

Sur  un  mince  cristal  fhiver  conduit  leurs  pas, 

Le  precipice  est  sous  la  glace  / 
Telle  est  de  nos  \vos\  plaisirs  la  tegere  surf  ate  j 

Glissez,  mortels,  rtappuyez  pas 3. 

And  I  begged  translations  from  every  body :  Dr.  Johnson  gave 

me  this  ; 

O'er  ice  the  rapid  skaiter  flies, 

With  sport  above  and  death  below; 
Where  mischief  lurks  in  gay  disguise, 
Thus  lightly  touch  and  quickly  go. 

He  was  however  most  exceedingly  enraged  when  he  knew  that 
in  the  course  of  the  season  I  had  asked  half  a  dozen  acquaint 
ance  to  do  the  same  thing,  and  said,  it  was  a  piece  of  treachery, 
and  done  to  make  every  body  else  look  little  when  compared  to 
my  favourite  friends  the  Pepyses,  whose  translations  were  un 
questionably  the  best.  I  will  insert  them,  because  he  did  say  so. 
This  is  the  distich  given  me  by  Sir  Lucas,  to  whom  I  owe  mere 
solid  obligations,  no  less  than  the  power  of  thanking  him  for  the 
life  he  saved 4,  and  whose  least  valuable  praise  is  the  correctness 
of  his  taste : 

O'er  the  ice  as  o'er  pleasure  you  lightly  should  glide; 

Both  have  gulphs  which  their  flattering  surfaces  hide. 

1  For  instances   of  Johnson's  use  word.     The  reproach  is  often  mixed 

of  dog  see  Life,  vi.  298,  to  which  I  with  good  humour, 

must  add  '  the  dog  was  never  good  2  Ante,  p.  168. 

for  much '  (said  of  his  imperfect  eye),  3  *  Un  charmant  quatrain  e'crit  par 

ib.  i.  41,  n.  2.     The  definition  in  his  le  poete  Roy  au  has  d'une  gravure 

Dictionary  of  dog,  in  its  third  sense,  de    Larmessin.'      Grammaire    Lit- 

as  a  reproachful  name  for  a  man,  ttraire  par  P.  Larousse,  1880,  p.  101. 

does  not  cover  all  his  uses  of  the  4  Pepys  knew  that  her  illness  in 

This 


246  Anecdotes. 


This  other  more  serious  one  was  written  by  his  brother : 

Swift  o'er  the  level  how  the  skaiters  slide, 

And  skim  the  glitt'ring  surface  as  they  go : 
Thus  o'er  life's  specious  pleasures  lightly  glide, 

But  pause  not,  press  not  on  the  gulph  below. 

Dr.  Johnson  seeing  this  last,  and  thinking  a  moment,  repeated, 

O'er  crackling  ice,  o'er  gulphs  profound, 

With  nimble  glide  the  skaiters  play; 
O'er  treacherous  pleasure's  flow'ry  ground 

Thus  lightly  skim,  and  haste  away. 

Though  thus  uncommonly  ready  both  to  give  and  take  offence, 
Mr.  Johnson  had  many  rigid  maxims  concerning  the  necessity 
of  continued  softness  and  compliance  of  disposition  z :  and  when 
I  once  mentioned  Shenstone's  idea,  that  some  little  quarrel 
among  lovers,  relations,  and  friends  was  useful,  and  contributed 
to  their  general  happiness  upon  the  whole,  by  making  the  soul 
feel  her  elastic  force,  and  return  to  the  beloved  object  with 
renewed  delight 2 : — '  Why,  what  a  pernicious  maxim  is  this  now 
(cries  Johnson),  all  quarrels  ought  to  be  avoided  studiously,  par 
ticularly  conjugal  ones,  as  no  one  can  possibly  tell  where  they 
may  end  ;  besides  that  lasting  dislike  is  often  the  consequence  of 
occasional  disgust,  and  that  the  cup  of  life  is  surely  bitter  enough, 
without  squeezing  in  the  hateful  rind  of  resentment.'  It  was 
upon  something  like  the  same  principle,  and  from  his  general 
hatred  of  refinement,  that  when  I  told  him  how  Dr.  Collier3,  in 
order  to  keep  the  servants  in  humour  with  his  favourite  dog,  by 

1783-4  was  caused  by  her  love  for  art  in  procuring  the  affection  of  his 

Piozzi.     Hay  ward's    Piozzi,   i.   220,  mistress   it  were   perhaps   his  most 

ii.  53,  and  Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary,  effectual  method  to  contrive  a  slight 

ii.  284.  estrangement,  and  then,  as  it  were 

1  *  Were  I  to  write  the  Life  of  Dr.  imperceptibly,  bring  on  a  reconcilia- 
Johnson,'  said   Reynolds,  *  I  would  tion.     The   soul    here    discovers  a 
labour  this  point,   to  separate    his  kind  of  elasticity ;  and  being  forced 
conduct    that    proceeded    from    his  back  returns  with  an  additional  vio- 
passions,  and  what  proceeded  from  lence.'   Shenstone's  Works,  ed.  1791, 
his  reason,  from  his  natural  disposi-  ii.  213. 

tion  seen  in  his  quiet  hours.'     Leslie          3  Dr.  Arthur  Collier.    Letters,  ii. 
and  Taylor's  Reynolds,  ii.  462.  69,  n.  5,  and  Hay  ward's  Piozzi,  ii. 

2  'Were  a  person  to  make  use  of       18,  35. 

seeming 


Anecdotes.  247 


seeming  rough  with  the  animal  himself  on  many  occasions,  and 
crying  out,  Why  will  nobody  knock  this  cur's  brains  out  ?  meant 
to  conciliate  their  tenderness  towards  Pompey ;  he  returned  me 
for  answer,  '  that  the  maxim  was  evidently  false,  and  founded  on 
ignorance  of  human  life :  that  the  servants  would  kick  the  dog 
the  sooner  for  having  obtained  such  a  sanction  to  their  severity  : 
and  I  once  (added  he)  chid  my  wife  for  beating  the  cat  before 
the  maid,  who  will  now  (said  I)  treat  puss  with  cruelty  perhaps, 
and  plead  her  mistress's  example  V 

I  asked  him  upon  this,  if  he  ever  disputed  with  his  wife? 
(I  had  heard  that  he  loved  her  passionately.)  '  Perpetually  (said 
he) :  my  wife  had  a  particular  reverence  for  cleanliness,  and 
desired  the  praise  of  neatness  in  her  dress  and  furniture,  as  many 
ladies  do,  till  they  become  troublesome  to  their  best  friends, 
slaves  to  their  own  besoms,  and  only  sigh  for  the  hour  of  sweep 
ing  their  husbands  out  of  the  house  as  dirt  and  useless  lumber : 
a  clean  floor  is  so  comfortable,  she  would  say  sometimes,  by  way 
of  twitting ;  till  at  last  I  told  her,  that  I  thought  we  had  had 
talk  enough  about  the  floor,  we  would  now  have  a  touch  at  the 
ceiling? 

On  another  occasion  I  have  heard  him  blame  her  for  a  fault 
many  people  have,  of  setting  the  miseries  of  their  neighbours 
half  unintentionally,  half  wantonly  before  their  eyes,  shewing 
them  the  bad  side  of  their  profession,  situation,  &c.2  He  said, 
'she  would  lament  the  dependence  of  pupillage  to  a  young 
heir,  &c.,  and  once  told  a  waterman  who  rowed  her  along  the 
Thames  in  a  wherry,  that  he  was  no  happier  than  a  galley-slave, 


1  '  I  never  shall  forget  the  indul-  does  not  complain,  and  which  there 
gence  with  which  he  treated  Hodge,  are  no  means  proposed  of  alleviating.' 
his  cat :  for  whom  he  himself  used  Rambler,  No.  75.    '  Unnecessarily  to 
to  go  out  and  buy  oysters,  lest  the  obtrude  unpleasing  ideas  is  a  species 
servants  having  that  trouble  should  of  oppression.'    Ib.  No.  98.    See  Life, 
take  a  dislike  to  the  poor  creature/  iii.  310,  iv.  171  for  occasions  where 
Life,  iv.  197.  Bos  well  angered  Johnson  by  making 

2  'No  one  ought  to  remind  another  him  think  of  some  great  dignity  to 
of  misfortunes  of  which  the  sufferer  which  he  might  have  attained. 

one 


248 


Anecdotes. 


one  being  chained  to  the  oar  by  authority,  the  other  by  want  *. 
I  had  however  (said  he,  laughing),  the  wit  to  get  her  daughter  on 
my  side  always  before  we  began  the  dispute 2.  She  read  comedy 
better  than  any  body  he  ever  heard  (he  said) ;  in  tragedy  she 
mouthed  too  much.' 

Garrick  told  Mr.  Thrale  however,  that  she  was  a  little  painted 
puppet,  of  no  value  at  all,  and  quite  disguised  with  affectation, 
full  of  odd  airs  of  rural  elegance  ;  and  he  made  out  some  comical 
scenes,  by  mimicking  her  in  a  dialogue  he  pretended  to  have 
overheard  :  I  do  not  know  whether  he  meant  such  stuff  to 
be  believed  or  no,  it  was  so  comical ;  nor  did  I  indeed  ever  see 
him  represent  her  ridiculously,  though  my  husband  did 3.  The 
f  intelligence  I  gained  of  her  from  old  Levett,  was  only  perpetual 
illness  and  perpetual  opium.  The  picture  I  found  of  her  at 
•s  Litchfield  was  very  pretty,  and  her  daughter  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter 
said  it  was  like4.  Mr.  Johnson  has  told  me,  that  her  hair 
was  eminently  beautiful,  quite  blonde  like  that  of  a  baby ; 


1  *  Un  jour,  en  me  promenant  sur 
la  Tamise,   Tun    de    mes  rameurs, 
voyant  que  j'etais  Fran^ais,  se  mit  k 
m'exalter,  d'un  air  fier,  la  liberte  de 
son  pays,  et  me  dit,  en  jurant  Dieu, 
qu'il  aimait  mieux  etre  batelier  sur 
la  Tamise  qu'archeveque  en  France.' 
(Euvres  de  Voltaire,  ed.  1821,  xliii. 

157- 

2  The  daughter,  Lucy  Porter,  only 
lived  with  them  for  about  two  years. 
She  never  visited  London.    Life,  ii. 
462. 

3  Boswell,  after  giving  the  descrip 
tion  of  her  which  he  received  from 
Garrick,  continues  : — '  He  probably, 
as  is  the  case  in  all  such  represen 
tations,  considerably  aggravated  the 
picture.'   /£.  i.  99.   Seepost  in  Percy's 
Anecdotes. 

4  This  portrait  is  in  the  possession 
of  Colonel  G.  F.  Pearson,  of  Nantlys, 
St.   Asaph,  who    had    it  from    his 
grandfather,  the  Rev.  J.  B.  Pearson, 
the  husband  of  the  lady  who  was 


Lucy  Porter's  heir.  In  an  inter 
leaved  copy  of  Harwood's  Lichfield, 
in  the  Bodleian,  at  p.  450,  is  a  pic 
ture  of  Mrs.  Johnson,  as  well  as  an 
engraving  by  T.  Cook  (1807)  of 
Hogarth's  picture  of  Joseph  Porter. 

The  author  of  the  Memoirs  of  the 
Life  and  Writings  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
(ed.  1785,  p.  25),  who  had  some  of 
his  information  from  Mrs.  Desmoulins 
the  daughter  of  Johnson's  godfather, 
says  that  Mrs.  Porter  was  still  hand 
some  at  the  time  of  her  second  mar 
riage.  He  adds  (p.  1 1 1) : — '  She  was 
a  lady  of  great  sensibility  and  worth ; 
so  shrewd  and  cultivated  that  in  the 
earlier  part  of  their  connection  he 
was  fond  of  consulting  her  in  all  his 
literary  pursuits,  and  so  handsome 
that  his  associates  in  letters  and  wit 
were  often  very  pleasant  with  him 
on  the  strange  disparity  which,  in 
this  respect,  subsisted  between  hus 
band  and  wife.' 

but 


Anecdotes.  249 


but  that  she  fretted  about  the  colour,  and  was  always  desirous 
to  dye  it  black,  which  he  very  judiciously  hindered  her  from 
doing.  His  account  of  their  wedding  we  used  to  think  ludicrous 
enough — '  I  was  riding  to  church  (says  Johnson),  and  she  follow 
ing  on  another  single  horse  :  she  hung  back  however,  and  I  turned 
about  to  see  whether  she  could  get  her  steed  along,  or  what  was 
the  matter.  I  had  however  soon  occasion  to  see  it  was  only 
coquetry,  and  that  I  despised,  so  quickening  my  pace  a  little,  she 

mended  hers;  but  I  believe  there  was  a  tear  or  two pretty 

dear  creature x ! ' 

Johnson  loved  his  dinner  exceedingly,  and  has  often  said  in  my 
hearing,  perhaps  for  my  edification,  '  that  wherever  the  dinner  is 
ill  got  there  is  poverty,  or  there  is  avarice,  or  there  is  stupidity ; 
in  short,  the  family  is  somehow  grossly  wrong :  for  (continued  he) 
a  man  seldom  thinks  with  more  earnestness  of  any  thing  than  he 
does  of  his  dinner2;  and  if  he  cannot  get  that  well  dressed,  he 
should  be  suspected  of  inaccuracy  in  other  things.'  One  day 
when  he  was  speaking  upon  the  subject,  I  asked  him,  if  he  ever 
huffed  his  wife  about  his  dinner?  '  So  often  (replied  he),  that  at 
last  she  called  to  me,  and  said,  Nay,  hold  Mr.  Johnson,  and  do 


1  See  Life,  i.  96,  for  the  account  of  faction.     "  Some   people   (said   he,) 
the   ride  which    Boswell  had   from  have  a  foolish  way  of  not  minding, 
Johnson.     They  rode  from  Birming-  or  pretending  not  to  mind,  what  they 
ham  to  Derby,  a  distance  of  forty  eat.     For  my  part,  I  mind  my  belly 
miles.     They  would    pass    through  very  studiously,  and  very  carefully ; 
Lichfield.     Faujas  Saint-Fond,  who  for  I  look  upon  it,  that  he  who  does 
went  over  the  same  road  more  than  not  mind  his  belly  will  hardly  mind 
forty  years  later,  thus  describes  it : —  anything  else." '    Life,  \.  467. 
'Nous  partimes  k  midi  de  Derby,  et  '  He  who  makes  his  belly  hisbusi- 
comme  les  chemins  sont  encore  fort  ness  will  quickly  come   to   have  a 
mauvais  sur  toute  cette  route,  nous  conscience  of  as  large  a  swallow  as 
eumes  beaucoup  de  peine  k  arriver  his  throat.'   South's  Sermons,  ii.  283. 
ce  jour-Ik  a  Birmingham  :  iletait  plus  'He    wrote    to    Mrs.   Thrale    on 
de  neuf  heures  du  soir  lorsque  nous  April  15,  1784.  at  a  time  when  after 
entrames  dans  1'auberge,  apres  avoir  a  long  illness   his  appetite  was  in- 
traverse  des  bruyeres  noires  et  arides  ordinate : — '  I    have    now  an    incli- 
et   un  pays   extremement   sauvage.'  nation  to    luxury   which   even   your 
Voyage  en  Angleterre,  ii.  393.  table  did  not  excite  ;  for  till  now  my 

2  '  At  supper  this  night  he  talked  talk  was  more  about  the  dishes  than 
of  good  eating  with  uncommon  satis-  my  thoughts.'     Letters,  ii.  389. 

not 


250  Anecdotes. 


not  make  a  farce  of  thanking  God  for  a  dinner  which  in  a  few 
minutes  you  will  protest  not  eatable.' 

When  any  disputes  arose  between  our  married  acquaintance 
however,  Mr.  Johnson  always  sided  with  the  husband,  *  whom  (he 
said)  the  woman  had  probably  provoked  so  often,  she  scarce 
knew  when  or  how  she  had  disobliged  him  first.  Women  (says 
Dr.  Johnson)  give  great  offence  by  a  contemptuous  spirit  of  non- 
compliance  on  petty  occasions.  The  man  calls  his  wife  to  walk 
with  him  in  the  shade,  and  she  feels  a  strange  desire  just  at  that 
moment  to  sit  in  the  sun :  he  offers  to  read  her  a  play,  or  sing 
her  a  song,  and  she  calls  the  children  in  to  disturb  them,  or 
advises  him  to  seize  that  opportunity  of  settling  the  family 
accounts.  Twenty  such  tricks  will  the  faithfullest  wife  in 
the  world  not  refuse  to  play,  and  then  look  astonished  when 
the  fellow  fetches  in  a  mistress1.  Boarding-schools  were  estab 
lished  (continued  he)  for  the  conjugal  quiet  of  the  parents:  the 
two  partners  cannot  agree  which  child  to  fondle,  nor  how  to 
fondle  them,  so  they  put  the  young  ones  to  school,  and  remove 
the  cause  of  contention.  The  little  girl  pokes  her  head  2,  the 
mother  reproves  her  sharply  :  Do  not  mind  your  mamma,  says  the 
father,  my  dear,  but  do  your  own  way.  The  mother  complains  to 
me  of  this:  Madam  (said  I),  your  husband  is  right  all  the  while  ;  he 
is  with  you  but  two  hours  of  the  day  perhaps,  and  then  you  teize 
him  by  making  the  child  cry.  Are  not  ten  hours  enough  for 
tuition  ?  And  are  the  hours  of  pleasure  so  frequent  in  life,  that 

1  'Johnson  used  to   say  that   in  not  been  negligent  of  pleasing.'    Life, 

all   family  disputes   the   odds   were  ii.  56. 

in  favour  of  the  husband  from  his  '  Sae,  whensoe'er  they  slight  their 

superior  knowledge  of  life  and  man-  maiks  *  at  hame, 

ners.'     Johnson's   Works  (1787),  xi.  'Tis   ten  to   ane  their  wives   are 

210.  maist  to  blame.' 

Talking    to    Boswell    he   said  : —  Allan  Ramsay's  Gentle  Shepherd, 

(  A  wife  should  study  to  reclaim  her  Act  i.  sc.  2. 

husband  by  more  attention  to  please  2  The    only   definition    given    by 

him.     Sir,  a  man  will  not,  once  in  Johnson  of  poke  is  'to  feel   in  the 

a  hundred  instances,  leave  his  wife  dark ;    to    search    anything   with   a 

and  go  to  a  harlot,  if  his  wife  has  long  instrument.' 

1  Mates. 

when 


Anecdotes.  251 


when  a  man  gets  a  couple  of  quiet  ones  to  spend  in  familiar  chat 
with  his  wife,  they  must  be  poisoned  by  petty  mortifications  ? 
Put  missey  to  school ;  she  will  learn  to  hold  her  head  like  her 
neighbours,  and  you  will  no  longer  torment  your  family  for  want 
of  other  talk.' 

The  vacuity  of  life  had  at  some  early  period  of  his  life  struck 
so  forcibly  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  Johnson,  that  it  became  by 
repeated  impression  his  favourite  hypothesis,  and  the  general 
tenor  of  his  reasonings  commonly  ended  there,  wherever  they 
might  begin.  Such  things  therefore  as  other  philosophers  often 
attribute  to  various  and  contradictory  causes,  appeared  to  him 
uniform  enough  ;  all  was  done  to  fill  up  the  time,  upon  his 
principle1.  I  used  to  tell  him,  that  it  was  like  the  Clown's 
answer  in  All's  well  that  ends  well 2,  of  *  Oh  Lord,  Sir ! '  for  that 
it  suited  every  occasion.  One  man,  for  example,  was  profligate 
and  wild,  as  we  call  it,  followed  the  girls,  or  sat  still  at  the  gaming 
table.  'Why,  life  must  be  filled  up  (says  Johnson),  and  the  man 
who  is  not  capable  of  intellectual  pleasures  must  content  himself 
with  such  as  his  senses  can  afford.'  Another  was  a  hoarder : 
*  Why,  a  fellow  must  do  something  ;  and  what  so  easy  to  a 
narrow  mind  as  hoarding  halfpence  till  they  turn  into  sixpences.' — 
Avarice  was  a  vice  against  which,  however,  I  never  much  heard 
Mr.  Johnson  disclaim  3,  till  one  represented  it  to  him  connected 
with  cruelty,  or  some  such  disgraceful  companion.  *  Do  not  (said 
he)  discourage  your  children  from  hoarding,  if  they  have  a  taste 
to  it :  whoever  lays  up  his  penny  rather  than  part  with  it  for 
a  cake,  at  least  is  not  the  slave  of  gross  appetite ;  and  shews 

1  'When  I,  in  a  low-spirited  fit,  must  resolve    to  avoid  it;    and   it 
was  talking  to  him  with  indifference  must   be   avoided  generally  by  the 
of  the  pursuits  which  generally  en-  science  of  sparing.'     Rambler,  No. 
gage  us  in  a  course  of  action,  and  57. 

inquiring    a  reason    for    taking    so  To  Boswell,  who  had  come  into 

much  trouble  ;  "  Sir  (said  he,  in  an  his  inheritance,  he  wrote  :-•-*  Do  not 

animated  tone)  it  is  driving  on  the  think  your  estate   your  own,  while 

system  of  life.'"    Life,  iv.  112.  any  man    can    call    upon    you    for 

2  Act  ii.  sc.  2.  money  which  you  cannot  pay ;  there- 

3  '  The  prospect  of  penury  in  age  fore  begin  with  timorous  parsimony, 
is    so  gloomy  and    terrifying,    that  Let  it  be  your  first  care  not  to  be  in 
every  man   who  looks  before    him  any  man's  debt.'    Lz/e,  iv.  1 54. 

besides 


252 


Anecdotes. 


besides  a  preference  always  to  be  esteemed,  of  the  future  to  the 
present  moment  *.  Such  a  mind  may  be  made  a  good  one ;  but 
the  natural  spendthrift,  who  grasps  his  pleasures  greedily  and 
coarsely,  and  cares  for  nothing  but  immediate  indulgence,  is  very 
little  to  be  valued  above  a  negro.'  We  talked  of  Lady  Tavi- 
stock,  who  grieved  herself  to  death  for  the  loss  of  her  husband  2 
— *  She  was  rich  and  wanted  employment  (says  Johnson),  so  she 
cried  till  she  lost  all  power  of  restraining  her  tears  :  other  women 
are  forced  to  outlive  their  husbands,  who  were  just  as  much 
beloved,  depend  on  it;  but  they  have  no  time  for  grief:  and 
I  doubt  not,  if  we  had  put  my  Lady  Tavistock  into  a  small 
chandler's  shop,  and  given  her  a  nurse-child  to  tend,  her  life 
would  have  been  saved.  The  poor  and  the  busy  have  no  leisure 
for  sentimental  sorrow3.'  We  were  speaking  of  a  gentleman 
who  loved  his  friend — '  make  him  prime  minister  (says  Johnson), 
and  see  how  long  his  friend  will  be  remembered  V  But  he  had 
a  rougher  answer  for  me,  when  I  commended  a  sermon  preached 
by  an  intimate  acquaintance  of  our  own  at  the  trading  end  of  the 


1  *  Whatever  withdraws  us    from 
the  power  of  our  senses,  whatever 
makes  the  past,  the  distant,  or  the 
future  predominate  over  the  present, 
advances  us  in  the  dignity  of  think 
ing  beings.'    Life,  v.334;  Works,  \x. 

145- 

2  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  March 
19,    1767:  —  'Lord    Tavistock,   the 
Duke    of    Bedford's   only   son,   has 
killed  himself  by  a  fall  and  kick  of 
his  horse,  as  he  was  hunting.  . .  .  No 
man  was  ever  more  regretted ;   the 
honesty,   generosity,  humility,    and 
moderation  of  his  character  endeared 
him  to  all  the  world.     The  desola 
tion  of  his  family  is  extreme.     Lady 
Tavistock,  passionately  in  love  with 
him,  is  six  months  gone  with  child.' 
Walpole's  Letters,  v.  43.     She  died 
at  Lisbon  on  Nov.  I,  1768.     Gentle 
man's  Magazine,  1768,  p.  542.     The 
child  was  Lord  William  Russell,  who, 
on  May  6,  1840,  was  murdered  by 


his  Swiss  valet,  Courvoisier.   Burke's 
Peerage. 

3  '  Dr.  Johnson  told  me  the  other 
day  he  hated  to  hear  people  whine 
about  metaphysical  distresses,  when 
there  was  so  much  want  and  hunger 
in  the  world.    I  told  him  I  supposed 
then  he  never  wept  at  any  tragedy 
but  Jane  Shore,  who  had   died  for 
want  of  a  loaf.     He   called   me  a 
saucy  girl,  but   did    not   deny  the 
inference.'  Hannah  M ore's  Memoirs, 
i.  249.    Jane  Shore  is  by  Nicholas 
Rowe.    Johnson's   Works,  vii.  410, 
and /0.r/,  p.  284. 

4  See  Life,  iii.  2,  where  Johnson 
'  shewed  that  a  man  who  has  risen 
in  the  world,  must  not  be  condemned 
too  harshly  for  being  distant  to  former 
acquaintance,  even  though  he  may 
have  been  much  obliged  to  them.' 

For  prime  minister  see  Life,  ii. 
355,  n.  2,  and  Letters,  i.  92,  n.  2. 

town. 


Anecdotes. 


253 


town.  *  What  was  the  subject,  Madam  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  ? ' 
Friendship,  Sir  (replied  I).  'Why  now,  is  it  not  strange  that 
a  wise  man,  like  our  dear  little  Evans J,  should  take  it  in  his 
head  to  preach  on  such  a  subject,  in  a  place  where  no  one  can  be 
thinking  of  it  ? '  Why,  what  are  they  thinking  upon,  Sir  (said  I)  ? 
*  Why,  the.  men  are  thinking  on  their  money  I  suppose,  and  the 
women  are  thinking  of  their  mops.' 

Dr.  Johnson's  knowledge  and  esteem  of  what  we  call  low  or 
coarse  life  was  indeed  prodigious ;  and  he  did  not  like  that  the 
upper  ranks  should  be  dignified  with  the  name  of  the  world. 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  said  one  day,  that  nobody  wore  laced  coats 
now 2  ;  and  that  once  every  body  wore  them.  *  See  now  (says 
Johnson)  how  absurd  that  is  ;  as  if  the  bulk  of  mankind  consisted 
of  fine  gentlemen  that  came  to  him  to  sit  for  their  pictures. 
If  every  man  who  wears  a  laced  coat  (that  he  can  pay  for)  was 
extirpated,  who  would  miss  them  ? '  With  all  this  haughty  con 
tempt  of  gentility,  no  praise  was  more  welcome  to  Dr.  Johnson 


1  Miss  Hawkins  (Memoirs,  i.  65), 
mentions  '  the  Rev.  Mr.  Evans,  who 
having    the    living    of    St.  Olave's, 
Tooley  Street,  was  frequently  a  guest 
at  Mrs.  Thrale's  table.' 

2  '  Greek,   Sir   (said  Johnson),  is 
like  lace ;  every  man  gets  as  much 
of  it  as  he  can.'    Life,  iv.  23.    When, 
in    1 749,   his  Irene  was  acted  '  he 
appeared  in  one  of  the  side  boxes  in 
a  scarlet  waistcoat,  with    rich   gold 
lace,  and   a  gold-laced   hat.'     Ib.  i. 
200.     Ruddiman,  the  Scotch  gram 
marian  and  Librarian  of  the  Faculty 
of  Advocates,  is  thus  described  in 
1747: — 'His  coat  was  of  cloth  and 
of  a  mixed  orange  colour ;  his  waist 
coat  of  scarlet-cloth  and  decorated 
with  broad  gold  lace.     His  shirt  was 
ornamented  with  very  deep  ruffles.' 
Chalmers's  Life  of  Ruddiman,  p.  274. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  writing  in  1747 
to  his  son,  a  boy  of  about  fifteen  or 
sixteen,  says:  — 'If  I  am  rightly  in 


formed,  I  am  now  writing  to  a  fine 
Gentleman  in  a  scarlet  coat  laced 
with  gold,  a  brocade  waistcoat,  and 
all  other  suitable  ornaments.'  Letters 
to  his  Son,  i.  261. 

When  Joseph  Andrews  had  to 
choose  a  dress  from  the  wardrobe 
of  his  new  brother-in-law,  Squire 
Booby,  'the  plainest  he  could  find 
was  a  blue  coat  and  breeches,  with 
a  gold  edging,  and  a  red  waistcoat 
with  the  same.'  Joseph  Andrews, 
Bk.  iv.  ch.  4. 

Bentham,  writing  of  about  the 
year  1756,  says  : — 'At  dinner  [at  the 
Duke  of  Leeds']  my  attention  was 
excited  by  a  Mr.  Trimmer,  an  humble 
dependant  of  the  family,  who  sat  at 
the  bottom  of  the  table  and  wore 
gold  lace  like  the  rest ;  for  every 
body  wore  gold  lace  then  ;  but 
narrow  was  the  gold  lace  worn  by 
Mr.  Trimmer.'  Bentham's  Works, 
x.  31. 

than 


254 


A  necdotes. 


than  that  which  he  said  had  the  notions  or  manners  of  a 
gentleman I  :  which  character  I  have  heard  him  define  with 
accuracy,  and  describe  with  elegance.  '  Officers  (he  said)  were 
falsely  supposed  to  have  the  carriage  of  gentlemen  ;  whereas  no 
profession  left  a  stronger  brand  behind  it  than  that  of  a  soldier  ; 
and  it  was  the  essence  of  a  gentleman's  character  to  bear  the  visible 
mark  of  no  profession  whatever 2.'  He  once  named  Mr.  Beren- 
ger 3  as  the  standard  of  true  elegance ;  but  some  one  objecting 
that  he  too  much  resembled  the  gentleman  in  Congreve's  come 
dies,  Mr.  Johnson  said,  '  We  must  fix  them  upon  the  famous 
Thomas  Hervey  4,  whose  manners  were  polished  even  to  acuteness 
and  brilliancy,  though  he  lost  but  little  in  solid  power  of  reasoning, 
and  in  genuine  force  of  mind.'  Mr.  Johnson  had  however  an 
avowed  and  scarcely  limited  partiality  for  all  who  bore  the  name 
or  boasted  the  alliance  of  an  Aston  or  a  Hervey 5 ;  and  when 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi,  I  conjecture,  meant 
to  say,  '  that  which  said  he  had,'  &c. 

2  '  Dr.  Johnson  denied  that  mili 
tary  men  were  always  the  best  bred 
men.     "  Perfect  good  breeding,  he 
observed,  consists  in  having  no  par 
ticular  mark  of  any  profession,  but 
a    general    elegance    of    manners ; 
whereas,  in  a  military  man,  you  can 
commonly  distinguish  the  brand  of 
a  soldier,  Fhomme  (Tepee"'     Life, 
ii.  82. 

In  a  note  on  Airs  Well  that  Ends 
Wells,  Act  ii.  sc.  I,  he  says  : — '  Every 
man  has  observed  something  peculiar 
in  the  strut  of  a  soldier.' 

3  '  Richard  Berrenger,  Esq.,  many 
years  Gentleman  of  the  Horse,  and 
first  Equerry  to  his  present  Majesty.' 
Life,  iv.  90.     His  salary  as  Gentle 
man  of  the  Horse  was  ^256.     Court 
and  City  Calendar,  1766,  p.  91.    His 
History  and  Art  of  Horsemanship  is 
reviewed  in  the  Annual  Register  for 
1771,1!.  260.    In  Dodsley's  Collection 
of  Poems,  ed.  1758,  vi.  271,  are  some 
verses  of  his  To  Mr.  Grenville  on  his 
intended  Resignation.    He  compares 


Grenville  to  a  man  intending  to 
drown  himself,  who  hears  a  voice 
exclaiming : — 

'  Consider  well,  pray,  what  you  do, 
And  think  what    numbers    live    in 

you; 

If  you  go  drown,  your  woes  to  ease, 
Pray  who  will  keep  your  lice  and 

fleas?' 

The  poem  ends  : — 
'  Oh,  Grenville,  then  this  tale  apply, 
Nor  drown  yourself  lest  I  should  die  ; 
Compassionate  your  louse's  case, 
And  keep  your    own    to  save    his 

place.' 

He  seems  a  strange  '  standard  of 
true  elegance.' 

4  '  Tom    Hervey,'    said   Johnson, 
'though  a  vicious  man,  was  one  of 
the  genteelest  men  that  ever  lived.' 
Life,  ii.  341.     See  also  ib.  ii.  32. 

5  Thomas  Hervey 's  brother  Henry 
had  married   Catherine  Aston.     Ib. 
i.  83,  n.  4.     Of  him  Johnson  said  : — 
'  He  was   a  vicious   man,  but  very 
kind   to   me.     If   you    call    a    dog 
Hervey  I    shall   love    him.'     Ib.  i. 
1 06. 

Mr. 


Anecdotes.  255 


Mr.  Thrale  once  asked  him  which  had  been  the  happiest  period 
of  his  past  life  ?  he  replied,  '  it  was  that  year  in  which  he  spent 
one  whole  evening  with  M — y  As — n  \  That  indeed  (said  he) 
was  not  happiness,  it  was  rapture ;  but  the  thoughts  of  it 
sweetened  the  whole  year.'  I  must  add,  that  the  evening 
alluded  to  was  not  passed  tete-a-Ute,  but  in  a  select  company, 
of  which  the  present  Lord  Killmorey 2  was  one.  '  Molly  (says 
Dr.  Johnson)  was  a  beauty  and  a  scholar,  and  a  wit  and  whig  ; 
and  she  talked  all  in  praise  of  liberty  :  and  so  I  made  this 
epigram  upon  her — She  was  the  loveliest  creature  I  ever  saw !  ! ! 

Liber  ut  esse  velim,  suasisti  finlchra  Maria, 
Ut  maneam  liber— pulchra  Maria,  vale  f 

Will  it  do  this  way  in  English,  Sir  (said  I)  ? 

Persuasions  to  freedom  fall  oddly  from  you ; 
If  freedom  we  seek — fair  Maria,  adieu ! 

*  It  will  do  well  enough  (replied  he) ;  but  it  is  translated  by 
a  lady,  and  the  ladies  never  loved  M — y  As — n.'  I  asked 
him  what  his  wife  thought  of  this  attachment  ?  *  She  was 
jealous  to  be  sure  (said  he),  and  teized  me  sometimes  when 
I  would  let  her ;  and  one  day,  as  a  fortune-telling  gipsey  passed 
us  when  we  were  walking  out  in  company  with  two  or  three 
friends  in  the  country,  she  made  the  wench  look  at  my  hand,  but 
soon  repented  her  curiosity ;  for  (says  the  gipsey)  Your  heart 
is  divided,  Sir,  between  a  Betty  and  a  Molly  :  Betty  loves  you 
best,  but  you  take  most  delight  in  Molly's  company:  when 
I  turned  about  to  laugh,  I  saw  my  wife  was  crying.  Pretty 
charmer  !  she  had  no  reason  ! ' 

It  was,  I  believe,  long  after  the  currents  of  life  had  driven  him 
to  a  great  distance  from  this  lady,  that  he  spent  much  of  his 
time  with  Mrs.  F — zh — b — t 3,  of  whom  he  always  spoke  with 

1  Molly  Aston.  She  was  the  2  Johnson,  with  the  Thrales,  visited 
daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Aston,  and  his  house  in  1774.  'Lord  Kilmorey,' 
wife  of  Captain  Brodie  of  the  navy.  he  wrote,  '  shewed  the  place  with 
Life,  i.  83  ;  ii.  466.  She  explained  too  much  exultation.'  16.  v.  433. 
to  Johnson  a  question  in  political  3  Fitzherbert.  '  Of  her  Dr.  John- 
economy  which  puzzled  him  and  son  said  that  she  had  the  best  under- 
Lord  Kames.  Ib.  iii.  340.  standing  he  ever  met  with  in  any 

esteem 


256  Anecdotes. 


esteem  and  tenderness,  and  with  a  veneration  very  difficult 
to  deserve.  {  That  woman  (said  he)  loved  her  husband  as  we 
hope  and  desire  to  be  loved  by  our  guardian  angel.  F — tz- 
h — b — t  was  a  gay  good-humoured  fellow,  generous  of  his  money 
and  of  his  meat,  and  desirous  of  nothing  but  cheerful  society 
among  people  distinguished  in  some  way,  in  any  way,  I  think ; 
for  Rousseau  and  St.  Austin  would  have  been  equally  welcome  to 
his  table  and  to  his  kindness  I :  the  lady  however  was  of  another 
way  of  thinking  ;  her  first  care  was  to  preserve  her  husband's 
soul  from  corruption  ;  her  second,  to  keep  his  estate  entire  for 
their  children :  and  I  owed  my  good  reception  in  the  family  to 
the  idea  she  had  entertained,  that  I  was  fit  company  for  F — tz- 
h — b — t,  whom  I  loved  extremely2.  They  dare  not  (said  she) 
swear,  and  take  other  conversation-liberties  before  you'  I  asked 
if  her  husband  returned  her  regard  ?  '  He  felt  her  influence  too 
powerfully  (replied  Mr.  Johnson) :  no  man  will  be  fond  of  what 
forces  him  daily  to  feel  himself  inferior.  She  stood  at  the  door 
of  her  Paradise  in  Derbyshire,  like  the  angel  with  the  flaming 
sword,  to  keep  the  devil  at  a  distance 3.  But  she  was  not 
immortal,  poor  dear!  she  died,  and  her  husband  felt  at  once 
afflicted  and  released.'  I  enquired  if  she  was  handsome  ?  *  She 

human  being.'     Life,  i.  83.     See  also  sparkle,  no  brilliancy  in  Fitzherbert ; 

ib.  iv.  33,  and  Letters,  i.  45,  n.  6.     In  but  I  never  knew  a  man  who  was 

the  Gentleman1  s  Magazine  for  1753,  so  generally  acceptable.     He  made 

p.    148,   is   a  notice   of    her   death,  every  body  quite  easy,  overpowered 

written perhapsby Johnson: — 'March  nobody   by  the    superiority    of   his 

12.      Wife    of  Wm.    Fitzherbert    of  talents,  made  no  man  think  worse  of 

Derby,  Esq.,  in   the  flower   of  her  himself  by  being  his  rival,  seemed 

age,  distinguished  for  her  piety  and  always  to  listen,  did  not  oblige  you 

fine  accomplishments.'  to  hear  much  from  him,  and  did  not 

1  Miss  Hill  Boothby  wrote  of  him  oppose  what  you  said.'     Life,  iii.  148. 
to  Johnson    on    Aug.   20,    1755: —  'What  eminence  he  had  was  by  a 
'  Mr.  Fitzherbert   and  his  company  felicity  of  manner ;  he  had  no  more 
arrived    here     [at    Tissington]     on  learning   than   what    he    could  not 
Thursday  last,  all  at  a  loss  what  to  help.'    Ib.  iii.  386.     He  hanged  him- 
do    with    themselves    in    still    life.  self  in  a  fit  of  insanity,  after  going  to 
They  set   out    yesterday   to    Derby  see  some  convicts  executed  in  the 
race,   and    return    on    Friday   with  morning.     Ib.  ii.  228,  n.  3. 

some   forty   more  people,   to   eat  a  3  It  is  not  said  either  in  the  Bible 

turtle."     An  Account  of  the  Life  of  or  in  Paradise  Lost  that  it  was  the 

Dr.  Johnson,  &c.,  1805,  p.  113.  devil  who  was  kept  at  a  distance  by 

2  '  There  was  (said  Johnson)  no  the  flaming  sword. 

would 


Anecdotes.  257 


would  have  been  handsome  for  a  queen  (replied  the  panegyrist) ; 
her  beauty  had  more  in  it  of  majesty  than  of  attraction,  more  of 
the  dignity  of  virtue  than  the  vivacity  of  wit.'  The  friend  of  this 
lady,  Miss  B — thby1,  succeeded  her  in  the  management  of 
Mr.  F — tzh — b — t's  family,  and  in  the  esteem  of  Dr.  Johnson  ; 
though  he  told  me  she  pushed  her  piety  to  bigotry,  her  devotion 
to  enthusiasm  ;  that  she  somewhat  disqualified  herself  for  the 
duties  of  this  life,  by  her  perpetual  aspirations  after  the  next : 
such  was  however  the  purity  of  her  mind,  he  said,  and  such  the 
graces  of  her  manner,  that  Lord  Lyttelton  and  he  used  to  strive 
for  her  preference  with  an  emulation  that  occasioned  hourly  dis 
gust,  and  ended  in  lasting  animosity 2.  *  You  may  see  (said  he 
to  me,  when  the  Poets  Lives  were  printed),  that  dear  B — thby  is 
at  my  heart  still.  She  would  delight  in  that  fellow  Lyttelton's 
company  though,  all  that  I  could  do  ;  and  I  cannot  forgive  even 
his  memory  the  preference  given  by  a  mind  like  her's  V  I  have 
heard  Baretti  say,  that  when  this  lady  died,  Dr.  Johnson  was 
almost  distracted  with  his  grief;  and  that  the  friends  about  him 
had  much  ado  to  calm  the  violence  of  his  emotion  4.  Dr.  Taylor 
too  related  once  to  Mr.  Thrale  and  me,  that  when  he  lost  his 
wife,  the  negro  Francis  ran  away,  though  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  to  Westminster,  to  fetch  Dr.  Taylor  to  his  master,  who 

1  Miss  Hill  Boothby.    Her  mother  resentment  so  long1.     He  was  un- 
was   a   Fitzherbert.     Letters,  i.  45,  willing  to  write  the  Life,  and  tried 
n.  6.     For  Johnson's  letters  to  her  to   get  it  done  by  Lyttelton's  bro- 
see  ib.  i.  45-53.  ther.     On  his  refusal  he  wrote  to 

2  Boswell     carelessly    says    that       him :— '  I   shall   certainly  not  wan- 
'  Mrs.  Thrale  suggests  that  Johnson       tonly  nor  willingly  offend.'    Letters, 
was  offended  by  Molly  Aston 's  pre-       ii.  188. 

ference    of   his    Lordship    to   him.'  The  Rev.  John   Hussey   says   in 

Life,  iv.  57.  a  marginal  note  on  the  Life,  iv.  57 :  — 

3  Miss   Boothby  died  in   1756  at  'Johnson   said    to   me   many  years 
the  age  of  forty-seven.    An  Account  before   he   published    his   Preface1, 
of  the   Life    of  Dr.  Johnson,   &c.,  "  Lord  Lyttelton  was  a  worthy,  good 
p.  143.     The  Life  of  Lyttelton  was  man,  but  so  ungracious  that  he  did 
published  in  1781.     It  is  incredible  not    know    how    to    be    a    Gentle- 
that  Johnson,  in  whom  malice  never  man."' 

dwelt,  should  have  nursed  a  petty          4  Ante,  p.  18,  and  Letters,  i.  52. 

1  The  '  Preface '  was  the  Life  of  Lyttelton.     Johnson  wrote  *  a  Preface,  biographical 
and  critical,  to  each  Authour.'     Life,  iii.  108. 

VOL.  I.  S  was 


258 


Anecdotes. 


was  all  but  wild  with  excess  of  sorrow,  and  scarce  knew  him 
when  he  arrived  x :  after  some  minutes  however,  the  doctor  pro 
posed  their  going  to  prayers  2,  as  the  only  rational  method  of 
calming  the  disorder  this  misfortune  had  occasioned  in  both 
their  spirits.  Time,  and  resignation  to  the  will  of  God,  cured 
every  breach  in  his  heart  before  I  made  acquaintance  with  him 3, 
though  he  always  persisted  in  saying  he  never  rightly  recovered 
the  loss  of  his  wife.  It  is  in  allusion  to  her  that  he  records  the 
observation  of  a  female  critic,  as  he  calls  her,  in  Gay's  Life  4 ; 
and  the  lady  of  great  beauty  and  elegance,  mentioned  in  the 
criticisms  upon  Pope's  epitaphs,  was  Miss  Molly  Aston  5.  The 
person  spoken  of  in  his  strictures  upon  Young's  poetry  6.  is  the 
writer  of  these  Anecdotes,  to  whom  he  likewise  addressed 
the  following  verses  when  he  was  in  the  Isle  of  Sky  with 
Mr.  Boswell 7.  The  letters  written  in  his  journey,  I  used  to  tell 
him,  were  better  than  the  printed  book  ;  and  he  was  not  dis 
pleased  at  my  having  taken  the  pains  to  copy  them  all  over  8. 


1  Life,  i.  238.     It  was  not  Francis 
who  took  the  message,  for  he  did  not 
enter  Johnson's  service  till  about  a 
fortnight  after  Mrs.  Johnson's  death. 
Id.  i.  239. 

2  According  to  the  account  given 
by  Taylor  to  Boswell,  'Johnson  re 
quested   him   to   join   with   him    in 
prayer.'     Ib.  i.  238. 

3  Five  years   after    he   made   ac 
quaintance    with    Mrs.    Thrale     he 
recorded    of    his    wife : — '  When    I 
recollect  the  time  in  which  we  lived 
together  my  grief  for  her  departure 
is  not  abated.'     Ante,  p.  51. 

4  'As  a  poet  he  cannot  be  rated 
very  high.     He  was,  as  I  once  heard 
a  female  critick  remark,  "  of  a  lower 
order." '     Works,  viii.  70. 

5  '  I  once   heard  a  lady  of  great 
beauty  and  excellence  object  to  the 
fourth  line,  that  it  contained  an  un 
natural  and  incredible  panegyrick.  Of 
this  let  the  ladies  judge.'   Ib.  viii.  355. 
The  fourth  line  is  in  the  epitaph  on 
Mrs.  Corbet  :— 


'  No  arts  essay'd,  but  not  to  be  ad- 
mir'd.' 

6  *  When  he  lays  hold  of  an  illus 
tration  he  pursues  it  beyond  expecta 
tion,   sometimes  happily,  as   in   his 
parallel  of  Quicksilver  with  Pleasure, 
which   I  have   heard   repeated  with 
approbation    by    a    lady   of    whose 
praise   he   would   have  been  justly 
proud,  and  which  is  very  ingenious, 
very  subtle  and  almost  exact.'  Ib.  viii. 
461. 

'  Pleasures  are  few,   and  fewer  we 

enjoy ; 
Pleasure,  like  quicksilver,  is  bright 

and  coy  ; 
We    strive    to    grasp    it    with    our 

utmost  skill ; 

Still  it  eludes  us,  and  it  glitters  still ; 
If  seiz'd  at  last,  compute  your  mighty 

gains  ; 
What  is  it  but  rank  poison  in  your 

veins.' 
The  Universal  Passion,  Satire  v. 

7  Life,  v.  158;  Letters,  i.  284. 

8  'Do  you  keep  my  letters?'  he 

Here 


Anecdotes.  259 


Here  is  the  Latin  ode  : 

Permeo  terras,  ubi  nuda  rupes 
Saxeas  miscet  nebulis  ruinas, 
Torva  ubi  rident  steriles  coloni 

Rura  labores. 

Pervagor  gentes  hominum  ferorum, 
Vita  ubi  nullo  decorata  cultu 
Squallet  informis,  tugurique  fumis 

Fceda  latescit. 

Inter  erroris  salebrosa  longi, 

Inter  ignotce  strepitus  loquela, 

Quot  modis  mecum,  quid  agat,  requiro 

Thralia  dulcis? 

Seu  viri  curas  pia  nupta  mulcet, 
Seu  fovet  mater  sobolem  benigna, 
Sive  cum  libris  novitate  pascit 

Sedula  mentem  : 

Sit  memor  nostri,  fideique  merces 
Stet  fides  constans,  meritoque  blandum 
ThralicB  discant  resonare  nomen 

Littora  Skice1. 

On  another  occasion  I  can  boast  verses  from  Dr.  Johnson. — 
As  I  went  into  his  room  the  morning  of  my  birth-day  once,  and 
said  to  him,  Nobody  sends  me  any  verses  now,  because  I  am 
five-and-thirty  years  old  2 ;  and  Stella  was  fed  with  them  till 
forty-six 3,  I  remember.  My  being  just  recovered  from  illness 
and  confinement  will  account  for  the  manner  in  which  he 
burst  out  suddenly,  for  so  he  did  without  the  least  previous 
hesitation  whatsoever,  and  without  having  entertained  the 
smallest  intention  towards  it  half  a  minute  before : 

wrote  to  her  two  years  later.     '  I  am  possession  of  Mr.  Salusbury,  she  was 

not  of  your  opinion  that  I  shall  not  baptized  on  January  16,  1740,  O.  S. 

like  to  read  them  hereafter.'    Letters,  (January  27, 1741 ,  N.  S.).   Hay  ward's 

i.  361.  Ptozzi,  i.  40. 

1  For  Lord  Houghton's  version  of          3  Stella  was    not   quite    forty-six 
these  lines  see  Life,  v.  424.  when  she  died.     Swift  wrote  verses 

2  In    one    of   her    memorandum  on    her    last   birth-day,    March    13, 
books   she  gives   1776  as  the  date  1726-7.     Swift's    Works,    ed.    1803, 
of  these  verses,  and  in  Thraliana,  xi.  21. 

1777.     According  to  an  entry  in  the 

S  2  Oft 


260  Anecdotes. 


Oft  in  danger,  yet  alive, 

We  are  come  to  thirty-five; 

Long  may  better  years  arrive, 

Better  years  than  thirty-five. 

Could  philosophers  contrive 

Life  to  stop  at  thirty-five, 

Time  his  hours  should  never  drive 

O'er  the  bounds  of  thirty-five. 

High  to  soar,  and  deep  to  dive, 

Nature  gives  at  thirty-five. 

Ladies,  stock  and  tend  your  hive, 

Trifle  not  at  thirty-five: 

For  howe'er  we  boast  and  strive, 

Life  declines  from  thirty-five I : 

He  that  ever  hopes  to  thrive 

Must  begin  by  thirty-five ; 
And  all  who  wisely  wish  to  wive 
Must  look  on  Thrale  at  thirty-five. 

6  And  now  (said  he,  as  I  was  writing  them  down),  you  may  see 
what  it  is  to  come  for  poetry  to  a  Dictionary-maker  ;  you  may 

observe  that  the  rhymes  run  in  alphabetical  order  exactly.' 

And  so  they  do. 

Mr.  Johnson  did  indeed  possess  an  almost  Tuscan  power  of 
improvisation 2 :  when  he  called  to  my  daughter,  who  was  con 
sulting  with  a  friend  about  a  new  gown  and  dressed 3  hat  she 
thought  of  wearing  to  an  assembly,  thus  suddenly,  while  she 
hoped  he  was  not  listening  to  their  conversation, 

Wear  the  gown,  and  wear  the  hat, 
Snatch  thy  pleasures  while  they  last; 

Hadst  thou  nine  lives  like  a  cat, 
Soon  those  nine  lives  would  be  past. 

1  Johnson  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  on  fifth  year  in  men  of  perfect  consti- 

August    14,    1780:— 'If  you   try   to  tution."' 

plague  me  I  shall  tell  you  that,  ac-  2  This  word  is  not  in  Johnson's 

cording    to    Galen,    life    begins    to  Dictionary. 

decline    from    thirty-five?     Letters^  3  'Your    father    intends   you   six 

ii.  192.     Dr.  John  Carlyle,  in  a  note  suits  (three  of  them  dressed  suits)  at 

on  the  first  line  of  Dante's  Inferno,  his  own  expense.'    Clarissa,  ed.  1810, 

says :— '  Dante   speaks   of   our    life  i.   3°5-      *    conjecture    that    '  dress 

as  an  arch,  which  we  ascend  and  clothes  '    was    originally    '  dressed 

descend ;  and  in  which  the  highest,  clothes.' 
or  middle  point,  "is  at  the  thirty- 

It 


Anecdotes.  261 


It  is  impossible  to  deny  to  such  little  sallies  the  power 
of  the  Florentines,  who  do  not  permit  their  verses  to  be  ever 
written  down  though  they  often  deserve  it,  because,  as  they 
express  it,  cosi  se  perderebbe  la  poca  gloria  x. 

As  for  translations,  we  used  to  make  him  sometimes  run  off 
with  one  or  two  in  a  good  humour.  He  was  praising  this  song 
of  Metastasio, 

Deh,  se  placer  mi  vuoi, 

Lascia  i  sospetti  tuoij 

No-,"1-  mi  turbar  conquesto 

Molesto  dubitar*  : 

Chi  ciecamente  crede, 

Impegna  a  serbar  fedej 

Chi  sempre  inganno  aspetta, 

Alletta  ad  ingannar. 

Should  you  like  it  in  English  (said  he)  thus?' 

Would  you  hope  to  gain  my  heart, 
Bid  your  teizing  doubts  depart ; 
He  who  blindly  trusts,  will  find 
Faith  from  every  generous  mind: 
He  who  still  expects  deceit, 
Only  teaches  how  to  cheat. 

Mr.  Baretti  coaxed  him  likewise  one  day  at  Streatham 
out  of  a  translation  of  Emirena's  speech  to  the  false  courtier 
Aquileius3,  and  it  is  probably  printed  before  now,  as  I  think 
two  or  three  people  took  copies  ;  but  perhaps  it  has  slipt  their 
memories. 

Ah!  tu  in  corte  invecchiasti,  e  giurerei 
Che  fra  i  pochi  non  set  tenace  ancora 

1  Mrs.  Piozzi  says  in  her  Journey  they  were  once  registered  by  the  pen.' 

through  Italy,  i.  239  : — *  The  whole  2  '  Non  mi  stancar  con  questo 

secret    of    improvisation    seems    to  Molesto-dubitar.' 

consist  in  this — that  extempore  verses  La  Clemenza  di  Tito,  Act  I.  sc.  2. 

are    never  written   down,  and  one  3  Aquilio.    The  speech  is  in  Meta- 

may  easily  conceive  that  much  may  stasio's  Adrtano,  Act  ii.  sc.  i.     It 

go   off  well  with  a  good  voice  in  was  first  inserted  in  a  later  edition 

singing  which  no  one  would  read  if  than  that  of  1748. 

DeW 


262  Anecdotes. 


antica  onesta*    Quando  bisogna, 
Saprai  sereno  in  volto 
Vezzeggiare  un  nemico;   accib  m  cada, 
Aprirgli  innanzi  un  \it\  precipizio,  e  poi 
Piangerne  la  caduta.     Offrirti  a  tutti, 
E  non  esser  che  tuo;  di  false  lodi 
Vestir  le  accuse,  ed  aggravar  le  coipe 
Nel  fame  la  difesa;  ognor  dal  trono 

I  buoni  allontanar;  d'ogni  castigo 
Lasciar  Fodio  allo  scettro,  e  d'ogni  dono 

II  merito  usurpar :  tener  nascosto 
Sotto  un  zelo  apparente  un  empio  fine; 
Ne  fabbricar  che  sulle  altrui  rouine2. 

Grown  old  in  courts,  thou  art  not  surely  one 

Who  keeps  the  rigid  rules  of  ancient  honour; 

Well  skilFd  to  sooth  a  foe  with  looks  of  kindness, 

To  sink  the  fatal  precipice  before  Jjiim, 

And  then  lament  his  fall  with  seaming  friendship  : 

Open  to  all,  true  only  to  thyself, 

Thou  know'st  those  arts  which  blast  with  envious  praise, 

Which  aggravate  a  fault  with  feign'd  excuses, 

And  drive  discountenanc'd  virtue  from  the  throne : 

That  leave  the  blame  of  rigour  to  the  prince, 

And  of  his  every  gift  usurp  the  merit ; 

That  hide  in  seeming  zeal  a  wicked  purpose, 

And  only  build  upon  another's  ruin. 

These  characters  Dr.  Johnson  however  did  not  delight  in 
reading,  or  in  hearing  of:  he  always  maintained  that  the  world 
was  not  half  as  wicked  as  it  was  represented  3 ;  and  he  might 
very  well  continue  in  that  opinion,  as  he  resolutely  drove  from 
him  every  story  that  could  make  him  change  it  ;  and  when 
Mr.  BickerstafFs  flight  confirmed  the  report  of  his  guilt 4,  and  my 
husband  said  in  answer  to  Johnson's  astonishment,  that  he 

1  '  Tu  che  in  corte  invecchiasti,  ably  spelt  that  she  had  better  have 

Non    dovresti    invidiarne.      lo  studied    her    own    language    before 

giurerei  she  floundered  into  other  tongues.' 

Che  fra  'pochi  non  sei  tenaci  Walpole's  Letters,  ix.  179. 

ancora  2  <  Ne    fabbricar    que    su    1'altrui 

Dell'  antica  onesta.'  ruine.' 

Horace    Walpole    says    of    Mrs.  3  Ante,  p.  208. 

Piozzi's     Journey  :  — £  Her     Latin,  4  Life,  ii.  82,  n.  3. 
French  and  Italian  too  are  so  miser- 
had 


Anecdotes.  263 


had  long  been  a  suspected  man  :  '  By  those  who  look  close  to 
the  ground,  dirt  will  be  seen,  Sir  (was  the  lofty  reply)  :  I  hope 
I  see  things  from  a  greater  distance.' 

His  desire  to  go  abroad,  particularly  to  see  Italy,  was  very 
great '  ;  and  he  had  a  longing  wish  too  to  leave  some  Latin 
verses  at  the  Grand  Chartreux 2.  He  loved  indeed  the  very  act 
of  travelling 3,  and  I  cannot  tell  how  far  one  might  have  taken  him 
in  a  carriage  before  he  would  have  wished  for  refreshment.  He 
was  therefore  in  some  respects  an  admirable  companion  on  the 
road,  as  he  piqued  himself  upon  feeling  no  inconvenience,  and  on 
despising  no  accommodations4.  On  the  other  hand  however,  he 
expected  no  one  else  to  feel  any,  and  felt  exceeding  inflamed 
with  anger  if  any  one  complained  of  the  rain,  the  sun,  or  the 
dust.  'How  (said  he)  do  other  people  bear  them5?'  As  for 
general  uneasiness,  or  complaints  of  long  confinement  in  a  car 
riage,  he  considered  all  lamentations  on  their  account  as  proofs 
of  an  empty  head,  and  a  tongue  desirous  to  talk  without  mate 
rials  of  conversation  6.  *  A  mill  that  goes  without  grist  (said  he) 
is  as  good  a  companion  as  such  creatures.' 

I  pitied  a  friend  before  him,  who  had  a  whining  wife  that 
found  every  thing  painful  to  her  and  nothing  pleasing — '  He 

1  In  the  Life,  iii.  453,  I  have  ex-  Johnson  was  calm.     I  said,  he  was 
amined  Lord  Macaulay's  wild  asser-  so  from   vanity.      JOHNSON.    "  No, 
tion    that    'of    foreign    travel   .  .   .  Sir,    it    is    from    philosophy."       It 
Johnson  spoke  with  the  fierce  and  pleased  me  to  see  that  the  Rambler 
boisterous  contempt  of  ignorance.'  could  practise  so  well  his  own  les- 

2  He  was  perhaps  stirred   by  the  sons.'     Ib.   v.    146.      See,   however, 
Alcaic  Ode  which  Gray,  in  August,  ib.  iv.  284  for  his  ill-humour  over  an 
1741,  had  written   in  the  Album  of  inn-dinner. 

the    Grande    Chartreuse.      Mason's  5  Ante,  p.  218. 

Gray,  ed.  1807,  i.  275.  6  Of  the  drive  from  Monboddo  to 

3  'In   the   afternoon,   as  we  were  Aberdeen  Boswell  says:— 'We  had 
driven  rapidly  along  in  the  post-chaise,  tedious  driving  this  afternoon,  and 
he  said  to  me,  "  Life  has  not  many  were  somewhat  drowsy.'    Life,  v.  83. 
things  better  than  this."'     Life,  ii.  Of  the  same  drive  Johnson  writes  :  — 
453.     See  also  ib.  iii.  162.  '  We  did  not  affect  the  impatience 

4  Boswell   wrote   of  the  hovel  in  we  did  not  feel,  but  were  satisfied 
which   they   lodged    at    Glenelg : —  with    the   company  of   each   other, 
'  Our  bad  accommodation  here  made  as  well  riding  in  the  chaise  as  sitting 
me  uneasy,  and  almost  fretful.     Dr.  at  an  inn.'      Works,  ix.  10. 

does 


264  Anecdotes. 


does  not  know  that  she  whimpers  (says  Johnson) ;  when  a  door 
has  creaked  for  a  fortnight  together,  you  may  observe — the 
master  will  scarcely  give  sixpence  to  get  it  oiled.' 

Of  another  lady,  more  insipid  than  offensive,  I  once  heard  him 
say,  '  She  has  some  softness  indeed,  but  so  has  a  pillow.'  And 
when  one  observed  in  reply,  that  her  husband's  fidelity  and 
attachment  were  exemplary,  notwithstanding  this  low  account  at 
which  her  perfections  were  rated — *  Why,  Sir  (cries  the  Doctor), 
being  married  to  those  sleepy-souled  women,  is  just  like  playing 
at  cards  for  nothing :  no  passion  is  excited,  and  the  time  is  filled 
up.  I  do  not  however  envy  a  fellow  one  of  those  honey-suckle 
wives  for  my  part,  as  they  are  but  creepers  at  best,  and  commonly 
destroy  the  tree  they  so  tenderly  cling  about.' 

For  a  lady  of  quality,  since  dead,  who  received  us  at  her 
husband's  seat  in  Wales  with  less  attention  than  he  had  long 
been  accustomed  to,  he  had  a  rougher  denunciation :  '  That 
woman  (cries  Johnson)  is  like  sour  small-beer,  the  beverage 
of  her  table,  and  produce  of  the  wretched  country  she  lives 
in :  like  that,  she  could  never  have  been  a  good  thing,  and 
even  that  bad  thing  is  spoiled  V  This  was  in  the  same  vein 
of  asperity,  and  I  believe  with  something  like  the  same  pro 
vocation,  that  he  observed  of  a  Scotch  lady,  '  that  she  resembled 
a  dead  nettle ;  were  she  alive  (said  he),  she  would  sting.' 

Mr.  Johnson's  hatred  of  the  Scotch  is  so  well  known 2,  and 
so  many  of  his  bans  mots  expressive  of  that  hatred  have  been 

1  This    lady,  according    to    Mrs.  dice  against  both  the  country  and  the 
Piozzi's   marginal    note,   was    Lady  people  of  Scotland  must  be  allowed. 
Catherine  Wynne.  Hay  ward'  sPiozzi,  But  it  was  a  prejudice  of  the  head,  and 
1.293.    Johnson  recorded  in  his  Tour  not  of  the  heart.'     Ib.  ii.  301.     See 
to   Wales  on  Aug.  21,  1774: — 'We  ib.  ii.  306  for  his  justification  of  his 
went    to    dinner    at    Sir    Thomas  feelings.     Reynolds  says  of  him : — 
Wynne's,  —  the    dinner    mean,    Sir  'The   chief  prejudice   in  which   he 
Thomas    civil,   his    Lady   nothing.'  indulged   himself  was  against  Scot- 
Life,  v.  449.  land,  though  he  had  the  most  cordial 

2  '  That  he  was  to  some  degree  of  friendship  with   individuals   of  that 
excess  a  true-born  Englishman,  so  as  country.'     Taylor's  Reynolds,  ii.  460. 
to  have  entertained  an  undue  preju- 

already 


Anecdotes.  265 


already  repeated  in  so  many  books  and  pamphlets,  that  'tis 
perhaps  scarcely  worth  while  to  write  down  the  conversation 
between  him  and  a  friend  of  that  nation  who  always  resides 
in  London,  and  who  at  his  return  from  the  Hebrides  asked  him, 
with  a  firm  tone  of  voice,  What  he  thought  of  his  country? 
'  That  it  is  a  very  vile  country  to  be  sure,  Sir  V  (returned  for 
answer  Dr.  Johnson.)  Well,  Sir !  replies  the  other  somewhat 
mortified,  God  made  it.  '  Certainly  he  did  (answers  Mr.  John 
son  again) ;  but  we  must  always  remember  that  he  made  it  for 

Scotchmen,  and  comparisons  are  odious,  Mr.  S 2 ;    but  God 

made  hell.' 

Dr.  Johnson  did  not  I  think  much  delight  in  that  kind  of 
conversation  which  consists  in  telling  stories :  '  every  body  (said 
he)  tells  stories  of  me,  and  I  tell  stories  of  nobody3.  I  do 
not  recollect  (added  he),  that  I  have  ever  told  you,  that  have 
been  always  favourites,  above  three  stories  ;  but  I  hope  I  do 
not  play  the  Old  Fool,  and  force  people  to  hear  uninteresting 
narratives,  only  because  I  once  was  diverted  with  them  myself.' 
He  was  [not]  however  an  enemy  to  that  sort  of  talk  from  the 
famous  Mr.  Foote,  'whose  happiness  of  manner  in  relating  was 
such  (he  said)  as  subdued  arrogance  and  roused  stupidity 4 :  His 
stories  were  truly  like  those  of  Biron  in  Love's  Labour  Lost 5, 
so  very  attractive. 

That  aged  ears  play'd  truant  with  [at]  his  tales, 
And  younger  hearings  were  quite  ravish'd ; 
So  sweet  and  voluble  was  his  discourse. 

1  '  Seeing  Scotland/  said  Johnson,  tween   him  and  a  jest,  and  he   is 
'  is  only  seeing  a  worse  England.     It  sometimes   mighty   coarse.'     Ib.   iii. 
is  seeing  the  flower  gradually  fade  69.     See  ib.  for  the  way  in  which  he 
away  to  the  naked  stalk.'     Life,  iii.  pleased   Johnson    against   his   will ; 
248.  Letters,  ii.  55,  where  Johnson  wishes 

2  Perhaps  Mr.  Strahan.  for  a  Footeana,  and  ante,  p.  225. 

3  Ante,  p.  226.  5  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  ii.  sc.  I. 

4  '  Foote,'  he  said,  '  is  very  enter-  1.  74. 

taining,  with  a  kind  of  conversation  These    lines  with   the   preceding 

between  wit  and  buffoonery.'    Life,  ones  were  inscribed  by   Beauclerk 

ii.  155.     'He  has  a  great  range  for  under  Garrick's  portrait.    Life,  iv. 

wit ;  he  never  lets  truth  stand  be-  96. 

Of 


266  Anecdotes. 

'  Of  all  conversers  however  (added  he),  the  late  Hawkins 
Browne  was  the  most  delightful  with  whom  I  ever  was  in  com 
pany  :  his  talk  was  at  once  so  elegant,  so  apparently  artless,  so 
pure,  and  so  pleasing,  it  seemed  a  perpetual  stream  of  sentiment, 
enlivened  by  gaiety,  and  sparkling  with  images  V  When  I 
asked  Dr.  Johnson,  who  was  the  best  man  he  had  ever  known? 
'  Psalmanazar,'  was  the  unexpected  reply :  he  said,  likewise, 
'that  though  a  native  of  France,  as  his  friend  imagined,  he 
possessed  more  of  the  English  language  than  any  one  of  the 
other  foreigners  who  had  separately  fallen  in  his  way.  Though 
there  was  much  esteem  however,  there  was  I  believe  but  little 
confidence  between  them  ;  they  conversed  merely  about  general 
topics,  religion  and  learning,  of  which  both  were  undoubtedly 
stupendous  examples ;  and,  with  regard  to  true  Christian  per 
fection,  I  have  heard  Johnson  say,  *  that  George  Psalmanazar's 
piety,  penitence,  and  virtue  exceeded  almost  what  we  read  as 
wonderful  even  in  the  lives  of  saints 2.' 

I  forget  in  what  year  it  was  that  this  extraordinary  person 
lived  and  died  at  a  house  in  Old-street3,  where  Mr.  Johnson  was 
witness  to  his  talents  and  virtues,  and  to  his  final  preference  of 
the  church  of  England,  after  having  studied,  disgraced,  and 
adorned  so  many  forms  of  worship4.  The  name  he  went  by,  was 

1  '  Isaac   Hawkins   Browne,'   said  2  '  Once  talking  of  George  Psal- 

Johnson,  '  one  of  the  first  wits  of  this  manazar,  whom  he  reverenced  for  his 

country,   got    into    Parliament    and  piety,  he  said  : — "  I  should  as  soon 

never  opened  his  mouth.'  Life,  ii.  339.  think  of  contradicting  a    Bishop.'" 

*  Dr.  Johnson  told   us  that    Browne  Life,  iv.  274. 

drank  freely  for  thirty   years,   and  I    have    examined    Psalmanazar's 

that  he  wrote  his  poem  De  Animi  penitence  in  Appendix  A  to  vol.  iii. 

Immortalilate  in  some   of  the   last  of  the  Life. 

of  these  years.'     Ib.  v.  156.     'The  3  He   died   in    Ironmonger    Row, 

pretty  Mrs.   Cholmondely  said   she  Old  Street,  on  May  3,  1763'.     Gentle- 

was  soon  tired  of  him,  because  the  man's  Magazine,  1763,  p.  257. 

first  hour  he  was  so  dull  there  was  no  4  He  belonged  only  to  the  Church 

bearing  him  ;  the  second  he  was  so  of  Rome  and  the  Church  of  England, 

witty   there   was    no   bearing   him ;  though    *  he    invented    an   awkward 

the  third  he  was  so  drunk  there  was  show  of  worship,  turning  his  face  to 

no  bearing  him.'    Hayward's  Piozzi,  the  rising  or  setting  sun,  and  pleased 

i.  294.     See  Letters,  ii.  324,  n.  I,  for  to  be  taken  notice  of  for  so  doing.' 

his  gluttony,  and  Campbell's  British  Life,  iii.  447. 
Poets  for  specimens  of  his  verses. 

not 


Anecdotes.  267 


not  supposed  by  his  friend  to  be  that  of  his  family,  but  all 
enquiries  were  vain ;  his  reasons  for  concealing  his  original  were 
penitentiary J ;  he  deserved  no  other  name  than  that  of  the 
impostor,  he  said.  That  portion  of  the  Universal  History3 
which  was  written  by  him,  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  composed 
with  peculiar  spirit,  but  all  traces  of  the  wit  and  the  wanderer 
were  probably  worn  out  before  he  undertook  the  work. — His 
pious  and  patient  endurance  of  a  tedious  illness,  ending  in  an 
exemplary  death,  confirmed  the  strong  impression  his  merit  had 
made  upon  the  mind  of  Mr.  Johnson.  '  It  is  so  very  difficult  (said 
he.  always)  for  a  sick  man  not  to  be  a  scoundrel 3.  Oh  !  set  the 
pillows  soft,  here  is  Mr.  Grumbler  o'coming :  Ah !  let  no  air  in 
for  the  world,  Mr.  Grumbler  will  be  here  presently.' 

This  perpetual  preference  is  so  offensive  where  the  privileges 
of  sickness  are  besides  supported  by  wealth,  and  nourished  by 
dependence,  that  one  cannot  much  wonder  that  a  rough  mind  is 
revolted  by  them.  It  was  however  at  once  comical  and  touchant* 
(as  the  French  call  it),  to  observe  Mr.  Johnson  so  habitually 
watchful  against  this  sort  of  behaviour,  that  he  was  often  ready 
to  suspect  himself  of  it ;  and  when  one  asked  him  gently,  how 
he  did  ? — '  Ready  to  become  a  scoundrel,  Madam  (would  com 
monly  be  the  answer):  with  a  little  more  spoiling  you  will, 
I  think,  make  me  a  complete  rascal  V 

His  desire  of  doing  good  was  not  however  lessened  by  his 
aversion  to  a  sick  chamber :  he  would  have  made  an  ill  man  well 

1  Mrs.   Piozzi  means,    I    suppose,  have  been  dead  very  many  years  by 

'  penitential.'    To  his  concealment  he  the  time  his  Memoirs  were  given  to 

thought  himself  obliged,  he  says, '  out  the  world.     Life,  iii.  446. 

of  respect  to  his  country  and  family.'  2  Letters,  ii.  432. 

The  excuse  seems  unsatisfactory,  for  3  '  He  that  contents  a  sick  man,' 

he    tells    enough    to   shew   that   he  he  wrote,  *  a  man  whom  it  is  impos- 

came   from    the    South    of    France,  sible  to  please,  has  surely  done  his 

while   for  his  family  there  was   no  part  well.'     Ib.  ii.  400. 

need   of  care.      It   was,   he   writes,  4  This  use   of  touchant  seems  to 

'ancient   but  decayed,'  and  he  was  show  that  touching  was  not  yet  in 

the   only  surviving   child.     Of   his  common  use.     Johnson   gives   it   in 

father   and   mother   he    had    heard  his  Dictionary,  but  without  any  au- 

nothing    since    he    started    on    the  thority. 

career  of  a  pious  rogue.     They  must  5  Quoted  in  the  Life,  iii.  i. 

by 


268  Anecdotes. 


by  any  expence  or  fatigue  of  his  own,  sooner  than  any  of  the 
canters.  Canter  indeed  was  he  none :  he  would  forget  to  ask 
people  after  the  health  of  their  nearest  relations,  and  say  in 
excuse,  '  That  he  knew  they  did  not  care :  why  should  they  ? 
(says  he ;)  every  one  in  this  world  has  as  much  as  they  can 
do  in  caring  for  themselves,  and  few  have  leisure  really  to  think 
of  their  neighbours  distresses,  however  they  may  delight  their 
tongues  with  talking  of  them  I.' 

The  natural  depravity  of  mankind  and  remains  of  original  sin 
were  so  fixed  in  Mr.  Johnson's  opinion2,  that  he  was  indeed 
a  most  acute  observer  of  their  effects ;  and  used  to  say  some 
times,  half  in  jest  half  in  earnest,  that  they  were  the  remains 
of  his  old  tutor  Mandeville's  instructions3.  As  a  book  how 
ever,  he  took  care  always  loudly  to  condemn  the  Fable  of 
the  Bees,  but  not  without  adding,  'that  it  was  the  work  of 
a  thinking  man.' 

I  have  in  former  days  heard  Dr.  Collier  of  the  Commons4 
loudly  condemned  for  uttering  sentiments,  which  twenty  years 
after  I  have  heard  as  loudly  applauded  from  the  lips  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  concerning  the  well-known  writer  of  that  celebrated 
work :  but  if  people  will  live  long  enough  in  this  capricious 
world,  such  instances  of  partiality  will  shock  them  less  and  less, 
by  frequent  repetition.  Mr.  Johnson  knew  mankind,  and  wished 
to  mend  them :  he  therefore,  to  the  piety  and  pure  religion,  the 
untainted  integrity,  and  scrupulous  morals  of  my  earliest  and 
most  disinterested  friend,  judiciously  contrived  to  join  a  cautious 

1  On  April  28,  1768,  he  wrote  to  of  another.'    Letters,  i.  141. 
Mrs.  Thrale  : — *  Yet  when  any  man  2  '  Lady  Macleod  asked  if  no  man 
finds  himself  disposed  to   complain  was  naturally  good.  JOHNSON.  "No, 
with  how  little  care  he  is  regarded,  Madam,    no    more    than    a    wolf." 
let  him  reflect  how  little  he  contri-  BOSWELL.  "Nor  no  woman,  Sir?" 
butes  to  the  happiness  of  others,  and  JOHNSON.   "  No,  Sir."     Lady  Mac- 
how  little,   for   the    most    part,   he  leod  started  at  this,  saying  in  a  low 
suffers  from  their  pains  .  .  .  Nor  can  voice,  "  This  is  worse  than  Swift." ' 
we  wonder  that,  in  a  state  in  which  Life,  v.  211. 
all  have  so  much  to  feel  of  their  own  3  Ante,  p.  207. 
evils,  very  few  have  leisure  for  those  4  Ante,  p.  246. 

not 


Anecdotes.  269 


attention  to  the  capacity  of  his  hearers,  and  a  prudent  resolution 
not  to  lessen  the  influence  of  his  learning  and  virtue,  by  casual 
freaks  of  humour,  and  irregular  starts  of  ill-managed  merriment. 
He  did  not  wish  to  confound,  but  to  inform  his  auditors  x ;  and 
though  he  did  not  appear  to  solicit  benevolence,  he  always 
wished  to  retain  authority,  and  leave  his  company  impressed 
with  the  idea,  that  it  was  his  to  teach  in  this  world,  and  theirs 
to  learn.  What  wonder  then  that  all  should  receive  with 
docility  from  Johnson  those  doctrines,  which  propagated  by 
Collier  they  drove  away  from  them  with  shouts !  Dr.  Johnson 
was  not  grave  however  because  he  knew  not  how  to  be  merry. 
No  man  loved  laughing  better,  and  his  vein  of  humour  was  rich, 
and  apparently  inexhaustible 2 ;  Though  Dr.  Goldsmith  said 
once  to  him,  We  should  change  companions  oftener,  we  exhaust 
one  another,  and  shall  soon  be  both  of  us  worn  out3.  Poor 
Goldsmith  was  to  him  indeed  like  the  earthen  pot  to  the  iron 
one  in  Fontaine's  fables  ;  it  had  been  better  for  him  perhaps,  that 
they  had  changed  companions  oftener ;  yet  no  experience  of  his 
antagonist's  strength  hindered  him  from  continuing  the  contest 4. 
He  used  to  remind  me  always  of  that  verse  in  Berni, 

//  pover  uomo  che  non  sen'  Zra  accorto, 
Andava  combattendo — ed  era  morto. 

Mr.  Johnson  made  him  a  comical  answer  one  day,  when  seem 
ing  to  repine  at  the  success  of  Beattie's  Essay  on  Truth 5 — '  Here's 
such  a  stir  (said  he)  about  a  fellow  that  has  written  one  book, 

1  Ante,  p.  213.  Johnson  seemed  a  little  angry,  and 

2  '  In  the  talent  of  humour,'  writes  said,  "  Sir,  you   have   not  travelled 
Hawkins,    'there    hardly   ever   was  over    my  mind,   I    promise    you."' 
Johnson's     equal,     except     perhaps  Life,  iv.  183. 

among  the  old  comedians.'     Haw-  4  Boswell  speaks  of  that  'vanity 

kins's  Johnson,   p.    139.     See  post,  which  often  excited  Goldsmith  to  oc- 

pp.  287,  345.  casional  competition '  with  Johnson. 

3  'Dr.  Goldsmith  said  once  to  Dr.  Ib.  i.  417 ;  ii.  216,  257.     He  admits, 
Johnson,  that   he  wished  for  some  however,  that   'he   was   often  very 
additional  members  to  the  LITERARY  fortunate  in  his  witty  contests,  even 
CLUB,  to  give  it  an  agreeable  variety;  when  he  entered  the  lists  with  John- 
for    (said    he,)   there    can    now   be  son  himself.'     Ib.  ii.  231. 

nothing  new  among  us  ;  we  have  5  Ib.  ii.  201  ;  Letters  of  Hume  to 
travelled  over  one  another's  minds.  Strahan,  p.  269. 

and 


270  Anecdotes. 


and  I  have  written  many.'     Ah,  Doctor  (says  his  friend),  there 
go  two-and-forty  sixpences  you  know  to  one  guinea '. 

They  had  spent  an  evening  with  Eaton  Graham2  too,  I  re 
member  hearing  it  was  at  some  tavern  ;  his  heart  was  open,  and 
he  began  inviting  away ;  told  what  he  could  do  to  make  his 
college  agreeable,  and  begged  the  visit  might  not  be  delayed. 
Goldsmith  thanked  him,  and  proposed  setting  out  with  Mr.  John 
son  for  Buckinghamshire  in  a  fortnight ;  '  Nay  hold,  Dr.  Minor 
(says  the  other),  I  did  not  invite  you  V 

Many  such  mortifications  arose  in  the  course  of  their  intimacy 
to  be  sure,  but  few  more  laughable  than  when  the  newspapers 
had  tacked  them  together  as  the  pedant  and  his  flatterer  in 
Love's  Labour  lost 4.  Dr.  Goldsmith  came  to  his  friend,  fretting 
and  foaming,  and  vowing  vengeance  against  the  printer,  &c. 
till  Mr.  Johnson,  tired  of  the  bustle,  and  desirous  to  think  of 
something  else,  cried  out  at  last,  'Why,  what  would'st  thou  have, 
dear  Doctor !  who  the  plague  is  hurt  with  all  this  nonsense  ? 
and  how  is  a  man  the  worse  I  wonder  in  his  health,  purse, 
or  character,  for  being  called  Holofernesl'  I  do  not  know 
(replies  the  other)  how  you  may  relish  being  called  Holofernes, 
but  I  do  not  like  at  least  to  play  Goodman  Dull5. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  indeed  famous  for  disregarding  public  abuse. 
When  the  people  criticised  and  answered  his  pamphlets,  papers, 
&c.  '  Why  now,  these  fellows  are  only  advertising  my  book  (he 
would  say) ;  it  is  surely  better  a  man  should  be  abused  than 

1 'Le  marechal  de  Rochefort,  capi-  2  Rev.   George   Graham  of  Eton 

taine   des   gardes-du-corps,  mourut.  College. 

II   dtait    le    favori   de  M.   de   Lou-  3  See  Life,   v.  97,   for  Johnson's 

vois,    qui    a    la    mort    de     M.    de  account  of  this  incident. 

Turenne  1'avait  fait  faire  marechal  4  Love's  Laboitr's  Lost. 

de  France  avec  les  autres,  dont  le  s  Prior  in  his  Life  of  Goldsmith,  ii. 

Frangais,  fertile  en  bons  mots,  disait  283,  quotes  the  article  in  which  the 

que   le   roi  avait   change  une   piece  two  men  had  been  thus  ridiculed.    It 

d'or    en    monnaie.'      Mtmoires    du  is  found,  he  says,  in  the  St.  James's 

Due    de    Saint -Simon,    ed.    1829,  Chronicle,  June  14, 1770.    This  num- 

iii.  386.  ber  is  not  in  the  British  Museum. 

forgotten. 


Anecdotes. 


271 


forgotten  V  When  Churchill  nettled  him  however,  it  is  certain 
he  felt  the  sting,  or  that  poet's  works  would  hardly  have  been 
left  out  of  the  edition.  Of  that  however  I  have  no  right  to 


1  Life,  \\.  335  ;  iii.  375  ;  v.  273, 
400. 

Johnson,  as  Boswell  believed,  only 
once  in  his  life  replied  to  an  attack. 
Ib.  i.  314.  To  the  instances  of  au 
thors  who  laid  down  this  rule,  given 
ib.  ii.  61,  n.  4, 1  would  add  the  follow 
ing  : — *  Silence  or  a  negligent  in 
difference  has  a  deeper  way  of 
wounding  than  opposition ;  because 
opposition  proceeds  from  an  anger 
that  has  a  sort  of  generous  sentiment 
for  the  adversary  mingling  along 
with  it,  while  it  shows  that  there  is 
some  esteem  in  your  mind  for  him ; 
in  short  that  you  think  him  worth 
while  to  contest  with :  but  silence, 
or  a  negligent  indifference,  proceeds 
from  anger,  mixed  with  a  scorn  that 
shows  another  he  is  thought  by  you 
too  contemptible  to  be  regarded.' 
The  Spectator,  No.  538. 

'  De  quelque  source  que  partent 
ces  outrages,  il  est  sur  qu'un  homme 
qui  n'est  attaque"  que  dans  ses  ecrits 
ne  doit  jamais  r^pondre  aux  cri 
tiques  ;  car  si  elles  sont  bonnes,  il 
n'a  autre  chose  a  faire  qu'k  se  cor- 
riger ;  et  si  elles  sont  mauvaises, 
elles  meurent  en  naissant.  Souve- 
nous-nous  de  la  fable  du  Boccalini, 
"Un  voyageur,  dit-il,  e"tait  impor 
tune,  dans  son  chemin,  du  bruit  des 
cigales  ;  il  s'arreta  pour  les  tuer ; 
il  n'en  vint  pas  k  bout,  et  ne  fit  que 
s'ecarter  de  sa  route  :  il  n'avait  qu'k 
continuer  paisiblement  son  voyage  ; 
les  cigales  seraient  mortes  d'elles- 
memes  au  bout  de  huit  jours.'" 
CEuvres  de  Voltaire,  ed.  1819,  ii. 

329- 

'  Addison  knew  the  policy  of  litera 
ture  too  well  to  make  his  enemy 
important  by  drawing  the  attention 


of  the  public  upon  a  criticism  which, 
though  sometimes  intemperate,  was 
often  irrefragable.'  Johnson's  Works, 
vii.  436.  *  If  we  can  suppose  Dryden 
vexed  [by  Prior  and  Montague's  at 
tack]  it  would  be  hard  to  deny  him 
sense  enough  to  conceal  his  uneasi 
ness.'  Ib.  viii.  2. 

Hume  wrote  in  1762  :  - -'  As  I  had 
fixed  a  resolution,  in  the  beginning  of 
my  life,  always  to  leave  the  public  to 
judge  between  my  adversaries  and 
me,  without  making  any  reply,  I 
must  adhere  inviolably  to  this  reso 
lution.'  Burton's  Hume,  ii.  118. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  wrote  on  Jan.  31, 
1817: — 'I  considered  always  that, 
by  subjecting  myself  to  the  irritability 
which  much  greater  authors  have 
felt  on  occasions  of  literary  dispute, 
I  should  be  laying  in  a  plentiful  stock 
of  unhappiness  for  the  rest  of  my  life. 
I  therefore  made  it  a  rule  never  to 
read  the  attacks  made  upon  me.' 
Lockhart's  Scott,  ed.  1839,  v.  187. 
A  year  later  he  wrote :— '  I  am  so 
deeply  fixed  in  the  opinion  that  a 
man  lowers  his  estimation  in  the 
public  eye  by  engaging  in  such 
controversy,  that  since  I  have  been 
dipped  in  ink  I  have  suffered  no 
personal  attacks  to  provoke  me  to 
reply.'  Ib.  v.  301. 

'  I  rejoice,'  wrote  Charles  Darwin, 
'  that  I  have  avoided  controversies, 
and  this  I  owe  to  Lyell,  who  many 
years  ago  strongly  advised  me  never 
to  get  entangled  in  a  controversy, 
as  it  rarely  did  any  good  and  caused 
a  miserable  loss  of  time  and  temper.' 
Life  of  Charles  Darwin,  ed.  1887, 
i.  89.  He  only  twice  departed  from 
his  rule,  and  in  one  of  the  cases  he 
afterwards  regretted  it.  Ib.  i.  j  59,  n. 
decide ; 


272  Anecdotes. 


decide T ;  the  booksellers  perhaps  did  not  put  Churchill  on  their 
list.  I  know  Mr.  Johnson  was  exceedingly  zealous  to  declare 
how  very  little  he  had  to  do  with  the  selection2.  Churchill's 
works  too  might  possibly  be  rejected  by  him  upon  a  higher 
principle ;  the  highest  indeed,  if  he  was  inspired  by  the  same 
laudable  motive  which  made  him  reject  every  authority  for 
a  word  in  his  dictionary  that  could  only  be  gleaned  from  writers 
dangerous  to  religion  or  morality 3 — *  I  would  not  (said  he)  send 
people  to  look  for  words  in  a  book,  that  by  such  a  casual  seizure 
of  the  mind  might  chance  to  mislead  it  for  ever.'  In  consequence 
of  this  delicacy,  Mrs.  Montague 4  once  observed,  That  were  an 
angel  to  give  the  imprimatur •,  Dr.  Johnson's  works  were  among 
those  very  few  which  would  not  be  lessened  by  a  line.  That 
such  praise  from  such  a  lady  should  delight  him,  is  not  strange ; 
insensibility  in  a  case  like  that,  must  have  been  the  result  alone 
of  arrogance  acting  on  stupidity.  Mr.  Johnson  had  indeed  no 
dislike  to  the  commendations  which  he  knew  he  deserved : 
'What  signifies  protesting  so  against  flattery  (would  he  cry)! 
when  a  person  speaks  well  of  one,  it  must  be  either  true  or  false, 
you  know ;  if  true,  let  us  rejoice  in  his  good  opinion  ;  if  he  lies, 
it  is  a  proof  at  least  that  he  loves  more  to  please  me,  than  to  sit 
silent  when  he  need  say  nothing  V 

1  Nevertheless  she  has  decided  it       419,  n.  i ;  iii.  i,  n.  2. 

by  her  certainty.  3  Boswell  makes  the  same  state- 

2  '  I   was   somewhat  disappointed  ment,  borrowing  it,  no  doubt,  from 
in   finding  that   the   edition  of  The  Mrs.  Piozzi.   Ib.  i.  189.     I  have  there 
English  Poets  for  which  he  was  to  shown  that  it  is  not  true. 

write  Prefaces  and  Lives,  was  not  an  4  Post,  p.  287. 
undertaking  directed   by  him  ;    but  5  '  JOHNSON.      "  Nay,  Sir,  flattery 
that  he  was  to  furnish  a  Preface  and  pleases  very  generally.     In  the  first 
Life    to    any   poet   the   booksellers  place,  the  flatterer  may  think  what 
pleased.     I  asked  him  if  he  would  he  says  to  be  true  :  but,  in  the  second 
do  this  to  any  dunce's  works,  if  they  place,  whether  he  thinks  so  or  not, 
should  ask  him.     JOHNSON.    "Yes,  he  certainly  thinks  those  whom  he 
Sir;    and    say   he   was   a   dunce.'"  flatters  of  consequence  enough  to  be 
Life,  iii.  137.     Johnson  was  charged  flattered."'     Life,  ii.  364. 
with  not  including  Goldsmith  in  the  '  Tu  m' adult,  ma  tu  mi  piaci  (you 
Lives,  whereas  his  exclusion  was  due  flatter  me  but  you  please  me)  is  a 
to  the  bookseller  who  had  the  copy-  very  true  Italian  saying,  which  self- 
right    of    She    Stoops    to    Conquer.  love,  if  sincere,  would  confess.'  Ches- 
Ib.   iii.    100,   n.  i.     For   Churchill's  terfield's  Misc.  Works,  iv.  366. 
attack  on  Johnson  see  ib.  i.  319,  406, 

That 


Anecdotes.  273 


That  natural  roughness  of  his  manner,  so  often  mentioned, 
would,  notwithstanding  the  regularity  of  his  notions,  burst 
through  them  all  from  time  to  time ;  and  he  once  bade  a  very 
celebrated  lady,  who  praised  him  with  too  much  zeal  perhaps,  or 
perhaps  too  strong  an  emphasis  (which  always  offended  him),  'con 
sider  what  her  flattery  was  worth  before  she  choaked  him  with 
it I/  A  few  more  winters  passed  in  the  talking  world  shewed 
him  the  value  of  that  friend's  commendations  however,  and  he 
was  very  sorry  for  the  disgusting  speech  he  made  her. 

I  used  to  think  Mr.  Johnson's  determined  preference  of  a  cold 
monotonous  talker  over  an  emphatical  and  violent  one,  would 
make  him  quite  a  favourite  among  the  men  of  ton,  whose  in 
sensibility,  or  affectation  of  perpetual  calmness,  certainly  did  not 
give  to  him  the  offence  it  does  to  many.  He  loved  *  con 
versation  without  effort  (he  said) ; '  and  the  encomiums  I  have 
heard  him  so  often  pronounce  on  the  manners  of  Topham  Beau- 
clerc  in  society,  constantly  ended  in  that  peculiar  praise,  that  *  it 
was  without  effort"2! 

We  were  talking  of  Richardson  who  wrote  Clarissa :  '  You 
think  I  love  flattery  (says  Dr.  Johnson),  and  so  I  do ;  but  a  little 
too  much  always  disgusts  me :  that  fellow  Richardson,  on  the 
contrary,  could  not  be  contented  to  sail  quietly  down  the  stream 

1  For  '  the  genuine  anecdote '  see       it  is  not  an  effort  of  mind."  '    Ib.  v. 
Life,  iv.  341.     The  lady  was  Hannah       76. 

More.  Macaulay  wrote  of  Talleyrand  : — 

2  He  disliked  a  man  to  be  in  his  '  There  is  a  poignancy  without  effort 
talk  '  a  rapturist,'  '  an  enthusiast  by  in  all  that  he  says  which  reminded 
rule.'     Ib.  ii.  41,  «. ;    iv.  33.     'The  me  a  little  of  the  character  which  the 
happiest  conversation,'  he  said,  'is  wits  of  Johnson's  circle  give  of  Beau- 
that  of  which  nothing  is  distinctly  clerk.'     Trevelyan's   Macaulay,    ed. 
remembered  but  a  general  effect  of  1877,  i.  235. 

pleasing  impression.'     Ib.  iv.  50.  Beauclerk,  through  Charles  II,  was 

'  BOSWELL.      "  Beauclerk    has    a  descended  from  Henry  IV  of  France, 

keenness  of  mind  which  is  very  un-  of    whom   '  Matthieu    dit    qu'aucun 

common."      JOHNSON.     "  Yes,   Sir ;  de  ses  courtisans  n'entendait  aussi 

and  everything  comes  from  him  so  bien  que  lui  a  rendre  un  conte  d'une 

easily.      It   appears   to    me    that   I  maniere    plaisante.'      Mtmoires    de 

labour,  when  I  say  a  good  thing."  Sully,  ed.  1788,  viii.  u,  n. 
BOSWELL.  "  You  are  loud,  Sir ;  but 

VOL.  I.  T  of 


274 


A  necdotes. 


of  reputation,  without    longing   to  taste  the  froth  from    every 
stroke  of  the  oar  V 

With  regard  to  slight  insults  from  newspaper  abuse,  I  have 
already  declared  his  notions  2 :  '  They  sting  one  (says  he)  but  as 
a  fly  stings  a  horse  3 ;  and  the  eagle  will  not  catch  flies.'  He 
once  told  me  however,  that  Cummyns  the  famous  Quaker, 
whose  friendship  he  valued  very  highly,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  their 
insults,  having  declared  on  his  death-bed  to  Dr.  Johnson,  that 
the  pain  of  an  anonymous  letter,  written  in  some  of  the  common 
prints  of  the  day,  fastened  on  his  heart,  and  threw  him  into  the 
slow  fever  of  which  he  died  4. 


Nor  was  Cummyns  the  only  valuable  member  so  lost  to 
society :  Hawkesworth,  the  pious,  the  virtuous,  and  the  wise,  for 
want  of  that  fortitude  which  casts  a  shield  before  the  merits  of 
his  friend,  fell  a  lamented  sacrifice  to  wanton  malice  and  cruelty, 
I  know  not  how  provoked  5  ;  but  all  in  turn  feel  the  lash  of 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi  says,  in  a  marginal 
note  on  one  of  Johnson's  letters  : — 
*  Dr.  Johnson  said,  that  if  Mr.  Rich 
ardson  had  lived  till  /  came  out,  my 
praises  would  have  added   two   or 
three  years  to  his  life.     "  For,"  says 
Dr. Johnson,  "that  fellow  died  merely 
for  want  of  change  among  his  flat 
terers  ;  he  perished  for  want  of  more, 
like  a  man  obliged  to  breathe  the 
same  air  till  it  is  exhausted."  '    Hay- 
ward's  Piozzi,  ii.  77. 

2  Ante,  p.  270. 

3  Speaking  of  the  attack  made  by 
Edwards  in  his  Canons  of  Criticism 
on  Warburton,  Johnson  said  : — '  A 
fly,   Sir,  may  sting  a  stately  horse 
and  make  him  wince  ;  but  one  is  but 
an  insect,  and  the  other  is  a  horse 
still.'    Life,  i.  263,  n.  3. 

4  'In  1745   mY  fnend  Tom  Gum 
ming  the  Quaker,  said  he  would  not 
fight,  but  he  would  drive  an  ammuni 
tion  cart.'    Id.  iv.  212.     See  also  ib. 
v.  98,  230. 


5  Hawkesworth  was  charged  with 
impiety  in  doubting  the  efficacy  of 
prayer.  According  to  Malone  the 
attacks  made  on  him  '  affected  him 
so  much  that  from  low  spirits  he 
was  seized  with  a  nervous  fever, 
which  on  account  of  the  high  living 
he  had  indulged  in  had  the  more 
power  on  him  ;  and  he  is  supposed 
to  have  put  an  end  to  his  life  by 
intentionally  taking  an  immoderate 
dose  of  opium.'  Prior's  Malone, 
p.  441- 

'  But  what,  we  are  told,  completed 
his  chagrin  was  the  notice  frequently 
given  in  an  infamous  magazine  pub 
lished  at  that  time,  that— "All  the 
amorous  passages  and  descriptions 
in  Dr.  Hawk— th's  Collection  of 
Voyages  should  be  selected  and  il 
lustrated  with  a  suitable  plate."  And 
this,  in  defiance  of  public  decency, 
was  actually  done ;  and  he,  whose 
fame  had  been  raised  on  his  labours 
in  the  cause  of  piety  and  morals  was 
censure 


Anecdotes.  275 


censure  in  a  country  where,  as  every  baby  is  allowed  to  carry 
a  whip,  no  person  can  escape  except  by  chance.  The  unpub 
lished  crimes,  unknown  distresses,  and  even  death  itself,  how 
ever,  daily  occurring  in  less  liberal  governments  and  less  free 
nations,  soon  teach  one  to  content  one's  self  with  such  petty 
grievances,  .and  make  one  acknowledge  that  the  undistinguishing 
severity  of  newspaper  abuse  may  in  some  measure  diminish  the 
diffusion  of  vice  and  folly  in  Great  Britain,  and  while  they  fright 
delicate  minds  into  forced  refinements  and  affected  insipidity, 
they  are  useful  to  the  great  causes  of  virtue  in  the  soul,  and 
liberty  in  the  state  ;  and  though  sensibility  often  sinks  under  the 
roughness  of  their  prescriptions,  it  would  be  no  good  policy  to 
take  away  their  licence  \ 

Knowing  the  state  of  Mr.  Johnson's  nerves,  and  how  easily 
they  were  affected,  I  forbore  reading  in  a  new  Magazine  one  day, 
the  death  of  a  Samuel  Johnson  who  expired  that  month ;  but 
my  companion  snatching  up  the  book,  saw  it  himself,  and  con 
trary  to  my  expectation — '  Oh  (said  he) !  I  hope  that  Death 
will  now  be  glutted  with  Sam.  Johnsons2,  and  let  me  alone  for 

thus  dragged  into  a  partnership  in  of  gaining  popular  applause,  which 

the  most  detestable   depravity  that  to  noble  minds  is  the  highest  of  all 

the  human  mind  can  invent.'     Chal-  rewards,  seemed  now  to  be  totally 

Tiers' s  British  Essayists, -x.\x.  Preface,  cut  off,  and  no  longer  to  be  hoped 

p.  25.  for.'     Annual  Register,  1771,  i.  60. 

A  man  who  had  received,  as  he  A  young  German,  travelling  in  Eng- 
had,  ^6,000  for  a  mere  compilation  land  in  1782,  recorded: — 'It  is  shock- 
was  scarcely  justified  in  putting  an  ing  to  a  foreigner  to  see  what  violent 
end  to  his  life.  He  should  have  left  satires  on  men,  rather  than  on  things, 
suicide  to  his  publishers,  who  were  daily  appear  in  the  newspapers,  of 
great  losers  by  him.  See  Hume's  which  they  tell  me  there  are  at  least 
Letters  to  Strahan,  p.  283.  a  dozen,  if  not  more,  published  every 

1  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  Dec.  day.'      Moritz's    Travels    in    Eng- 

31,   1769   (Letters,   v.   211): — 'The  land,  p.  184.    See  also  Life,  i.  116, 

licentiousness  of  abuse  surpasses  all  n.  i. 

example.  The  most  savage  mas-  2  Among  the  contemporaries  of 
sacre  of  private  characters  passes  for  Johnson  bearing  the  same  name  are 
sport.'  Burke  wrote  two  years  the  following : — 
later:  —  'Distinction  of  character  i.  Rev.  Samuel  Johnson,  Libra- 
seemed  at  an  end  ;  and  that  power-  rian  of  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields, 
ful  incentive  to  all  public  and  private  Life,  i.  135. 

virtue  of  establishing  a  fair  fame  and  2.  and  3.    Rev.  William  Samuel 

T  2                                               some 


276  Anecdotes. 


some  time  to  come  :  I  read  of  another  namesake's  departure  last 
week.' — Though  Mr.  Johnson  was  commonly  affected  even  to 
agony  at  the  thoughts  of  a  friend's  dying,  he  troubled  himself 
very  little  with  the  complaints  they  might  make  to  him  about  ill 
health  '.  '  Dear  Doctor 2  (said  he  one  day  to  a  common  acquaint 
ance,  who  lamented  the  tender  state  of  his  inside),  do  not  be  like 
the  spider,  man  ;  and  spin  conversation  thus  incessantly  out  of 
thy  own  bowels.' — I  told  him  of  another  friend  who  suffered 
grievously  with  the  gout — '  He  will  live  a  vast  many  years  for 
that  (replied  he),  and  then  what  signifies  how  much  he  suffers? 
but  he  will  die  at  last,  poor  fellow,  there's  the  misery ;  gout 
seldom  takes  the  fort  by  a  coup-de-main,  but  turning  the  siege 
into  a  blockade,  obliges  it  to  surrender  at  discretion.' 

A  lady  he  thought  well  of,  was  disordered  in  her  health — 
'  What  help  has  she  called  in  (enquired  Johnson)  ?  '  Dr.  James3, 
Sir  ;  was  the  reply.  '  What  is  her  disease  ?  '  Oh,  nothing  posi 
tive,  rather  a  gradual  and  gentle  decline.  '  She  will  die,  then, 
pretty  dear  (answered  he) !  When  Death's  pale  horse 4  runs 
away  with  persons  on  full  speed,  an  active  physician  may  pos 
sibly  give  them  a  turn  ;  but  if  he  carries  them  on  an  even  slow 
pace,  down  hill  too !  no  care  nor  skill  can  save  them  ! ' 

When  Garrick  was  on  his  last  sick-bed,  no  arguments,  or 
recitals  of  such  facts  as  I  had  heard,  would  persuade  Mr.  Johnson 
of  his  danger  5 :  he  had  prepossessed  himself  with  a  notion,  that 

Johnson  of  Connecticut,  with  whom  ginal  note  Dr.  Delap  (ante,  p.  234). 

Johnson    corresponded    (Letters,    i.  Hayward's  Piozzi,  i.  294. 

209),  and  his  son  Samuel.     G.  M.  3  Ante,  p.  166. 

Berkeley's   Poems,   Introduction,  p.  4  '  And  I  looked,  and  behold  a  pale 

452.  horse  :  and  his  name  that  sat  on  him 

4.  Samuel  Johnson,  author  of  Hurlo  was  Death.'     Rev.  vi.  8. 
Thrumbo.     Croker's  Boswell,  p.  366,  5  Johnson  wrote  a  few  weeks  after 
n.  6.  Garrick's  death  : — '  Poor  David  had 

5.  Samuel  Johnson  of  the  Secre-  doubtless  many  futurities  in  his  head, 
tary's   Office   of  the   India   House.  which  death  has  intercepted,  a  death, 
Anecdotes  of  John  Hoole,  by  Samuel  I  believe,  totally  unexpected  ;  he  did 
Hoole,  1803,  p.  12.  not  in  his  last  hour  seem  to  think 

1  Ante,  p.  267.  his  life  in  danger.'     Letters,  ii.  86. 

2  According  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's  mar- 

to 


Anecdotes.  277 


to  say  a  man  was  sick,  was  very  near  wishing  him  so ;  and  few 
things  offended  him  more,  than  prognosticating  even  the  death 
of  an  ordinary  acquaintance.  'Ay,  ay  (said  he),  Swift  knew  the 
world  pretty  well,  when  he  said,  that 

Some  dire  misfortune  to  portend, 
No  enemy  can  match  a  friend  *.' 

The  danger  then  of  Mr.  Garrick,  or  of  Mr.  Thrale,  whom  he 
loved  better,  was  an  image  which  no  one  durst  present  before  his 
view 2 ;  he  always  persisted  in  the  possibility  and  hope  of  their 
recovering  [from]  disorders  from  which  no  human  creatures  by 
human  means  alone  ever  did  recover.  His  distress  for  their  loss 
was  for  that  very  reason  poignant  to  excess  3 ;  but  his  fears  of 
"his  own  salvation  were  excessive  :  his  truly  tolerant  spirit,  and 
Christian  charity,  which  hopeth  all  things,  and  believe th  all  things, 
made  him  rely  securely  on  the  safety  of  his  friends,  while  his 
earnest  aspiration  after  a  blessed  immortality  made  him  cautious 
of  his  own  steps,  and  timorous  concerning  their  consequences. 
He  knew  how  much  had  been  given,  and  filled  his  mind  with 
fancies  of  how  much  would  be  required,  till  his  impressed 
imagination  was  often  disturbed  by  them,  and  his  health  suffered 
from  the  sensibility  of  his  too  tender  conscience  :  a  real  Christian 
is  so  apt  to  find  his  task  above  his  power  of  performance 4 ! 

1  'Some  great  misfortune  to  por-       phy' 's  Johnson,  p.  145.    For  his  grief 

tend,  for  Mr.  Thrale  see  ante,  p.  205,  n.  3. 

No  enemy  can  match  a  friend.'  4  In  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  wrote 

Swift's  Works,  ed.  1803,  xi.  243.  to   Mrs.  Thrale :—' March  10,  1784 

2  He  wrote  to  Mrs.  Thrale  the  au-  .  .  .  Goodness,  always  wishing  to  be 
tumn  before  Mr.  Thrale's  death  : —  better,  and  imputing  every  deficience 
'  The  chief  wish  that  I  form  is,  that  to   criminal    indulgence  and    every 
Mr.  Thrale  could  be  made  to  under-  fault  to  voluntary  corruption,  never 
stand  his  true  state  ;  to  know  that  he  dares  to   suppose  the   condition   of 
is  tottering  upon  a  point,  &c.'  Letters,  forgiveness    fulfilled,    nor    what    is 
ii.  200.     See  ante,  p.  96,  where  he  wanting  in  the  crime  supplied  by  the 
records: — 'I  had  constantly  prayed  penitence.'    Letters,  ii.  380.    'March 
for  him  some  time  before  his  death,'  20,  1784  .  .  .  Write  to  me  no  more 
and  ib.  for  the  warnings  he  had  given  about  dying  with  a  grace ;  when  you 
him.  feel  what  I  have  felt  in  approaching 

3  Murphy   says,  though   certainly  eternity — in  fear  of  soon  hearing  the 
with  exaggeration,  that  'after  Gar-  sentence  of  which  there  is  no  revo- 
rick's  death  Johnson  never  talked  of  cation,  you  will  know  the  folly.'    Id. 
him  without  a  tear  in  his  eye.'   Mur-  p.  384. 

Mr. 


278  Anecdotes. 


Mr.  Johnson  did  not  however  give  in  to  ridiculous  refinements 
either  of  speculation  or  practice,  or  suffer  himself  to  be  deluded 
by  specious  appearances.  *  I  have  had  dust  thrown  in  my  eyes 
too  often  (would  he  say),  to  be  blinded  so.  Let  us  never  con 
found  matters  of  belief  with  matters  of  opinion.' — Some  one 
urged  in  his  presence  the  preference  of  hope  to  possession ;  and 
as  I  remember,  produced  an  Italian  sonnet  on  the  subject.  *  Let 
us  not  (cries  Johnson)  amuse  ourselves  with  subtleties  and  son 
nets,  when  speaking  about  hope,  which  is  the  follower  of  faith 
and  the  precursor  of  eternity x ;  but  if  you  only  mean  those  air- 
built  hopes  which  to-day  excites  and  to-morrow  will  destroy,  let 
us  talk  away,  and  remember  that  we  only  talk  of  the  pleasures 
of  hope  ;  we  feel  those  of  possession,  and  no  man  in  his  senses 
would  change  the  last  for  the  first :  such  hope  is  a  mere  bubble, 
that  by  a  gentle  breath  may  be  blown  to  what  size  you  will 
almost,  but  a  rough  blast  bursts  it  at  once.  Hope  is  an  amuse 
ment  rather  than  a  good,  and  adapted  to  none  but  very  tranquil 
minds  V  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Johnson  hated  what  we  call  unprofit 
able  chat ;  and  to  a  gentleman  who  had  disserted  some  time 
about  the  natural  history  of  the  mouse — '  I  wonder  what  such 
a  one  would  have  said  (cried  Johnson),  if  he  had  ever  had  the 
luck  to  see  a  lion  3 ! ' 

I  well  remember  that  at  Brighthelmstone  once,  when  he  was 
not  present,  Mr.  Beauclerc  asserted  that  he  was  afraid  of  spirits ; 
and  I,  who  was  secretly  offended  at  the  charge,  asked  him,  the 
first  opportunity  I  could  find,  What  ground  he  had  ever  given  to 
the  world  for  such  a  report  ?  '  I  can  (replied  he)  recollect 
nothing  nearer  it,  than  my  telling  Dr.  Lawrence  many  years  ago, 
that  a  long  time  after  my  poor  mother's  death,  I  heard  her 

x  *  BOSWELL.  "  But  may  not  a  man  2  '  Hope,'    he   wrote,   *  is   itself  a 

attain  to  such  a  degree  of  hope  as  species   of  happiness,   and  perhaps 

not  to  be  uneasy  from   the  fear  of  the  chief  happiness  which  this  world 

death  ?"     JOHNSON.    "  A  man   may  affords.'    Ib.  i.  368.     See  also  ib.  ii. 

have  such  a  degree  of  hope  as  to  350. 

keep  him  quiet.     You  see  I  am  not  3  Mrs.  Piozzi,  who  had  this  anec- 

quiet,    from    the    vehemence    with  dote  from   Boswell,  spoilt  it  in  the 

which  I  talk;  but  I  do  not  despair." '  telling.    Ib.  ii.  194. 
Life,  iv.  299. 

voico 


Anecdotes.  279 


voice  call  Sam T  ! '  What  answer  did  the  doctor  make  to  your 
story,  Sir,  said  I  ?  '  None  in  the  world,'  ( replied  he ;)  and  suddenly 
changed  the  conversation.  Now  as  Mr.  Johnson  had  a  most  un 
shaken  faith,  without  any  mixture  of  credulity,  this  story  must 
either  have  been  strictly  true,  or  his  persuasion  of  its  truth  the 
effect  of  disordered  spirits.  I  relate  the  anecdote  precisely  as 
he  told  it  me  ;  but  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  draw  out  the 
talk  into  length  for  further  satisfaction  of  my  curiosity. 

As  Johnson  was  the  firmest  of  believers  without  being  credu 
lous  2,  so  he  was  the  most  charitable  of  mortals  without  being 
what  we  call  an  active  friend.  Admirable  at  giving  counsel,  no 
man  saw  his  way  so  clearly  ;  but  he  would  not  stir  a  finger  for 
the  assistance  of  those  to  whom  he  was  willing  enough  to  give 
advice :  besides  that,  he  had  principles  of  laziness,  and  could  be 
indolent  by  rule.  To  hinder  your  death,  or  procure  you  a 
dinner,  I  mean  if  really  in  want  of  one  ;  his  earnestness,  his 
exertions  could  not  be  prevented,  though  health  and  purse  and 
ease  were  all  destroyed  by  their  violence.  If  you  wanted 
a  slight  favour,  you  must  apply  to  people  of  other  dispositions ; 
for  not  a  step  would  Johnson  move  to  obtain  a  man  a  vote  in 
a  society,  to  repay  a  compliment  which  might  be  useful  or 
pleasing,  to  write  a  letter  of  request,  or  to  obtain  a  hundred 
pounds  a  year  more  for  a  friend,  who  perhaps  had  already 
two  or  three.  No  force  could  urge  him  to  diligence,  no 
importunity  could  conquer  his  resolution  of  standing  still 3. 

1  This  is  most  likely  an  inaccurate  had   to   admit   that  'it   is  still   un- 
report  of  the  following  incident  which  decided  whether  or  not  there  has 
happened  a   long   time    before    his  ever  been  an  instance  of  the  spirit 
mother's  death  : — '  Dr.  Johnson  said,  of  any  person  appearing  after  death, 
that  one  day  at  Oxford,  as  he  was  All  argument  is  against  it;  but  all 
turning  the  key  of  his  chamber,  he  belief  is  for  it.'    Ib.  iii.  230.     He  was 
heard  his  mother  distinctly  call  Sam.  '  willing  to  believe  in  second  sight ; 
She  was  then  at  Lichfield  ;  but  no-  but  I  never  could,'  he  said,  '  advance 
thing  ensued.'     Life,  iv.  94.  my  curiosity  to  conviction.'     Jb.  ii. 

2  *  I  would  be  a  Papist  if  I  could  10,  n.  3. 

(he  said) ;  but  an  obstinate  ratio-  3  Boswell  quotes  most  of  this  para- 
nality  prevents  me.'  Ib.  iv.  289.  He  graph  and  refers  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's 
longed  for  more  evidence  of  the  own  contradiction  of  her  assertion 
spiritual  world  (ib.  iv.  299);  but  he  (ante,  p.  180).  He  continues: — 'I 

'What 


280  Anecdotes. 


*  What  good  are  we  doing  with  all  this  ado  (would  he  say)  ? 
dearest  Lady,  let's  hear  no  more  of  it ! '  I  have  however  more 
than  once  in  my  life  forced  him  on  such  services,  but  with 
extreme  difficulty. 

We  parted  at  his  door  one  evening  when  I  had  teized  him  for 
many  weeks  to  write  a  recommendatory  letter  of  a  little  boy  to 
his  school-master  ;  and  after  he  had  faithfully  promised  to  do 
this  prodigious  feat  before  we  met  again — Do  not  forget  dear 
Dick,  Sir,  said  I,  as  he  went  out  of  the  coach  :  he  turned  back, 
stood  still  two  minutes  on  the  carriage-step — 'When  I  have 
written  my  letter  for  Dick,  I  may  hang  myself,  mayn't  I  ?  ' — and 
turned  away  in  a  very  ill  humour  indeed x. 

Though  apt  enough  to  take  sudden  likings  or  aversions  to 
people  he  occasionally  met,  he  would  never  hastily  pronounce 
upon  their  character ;  and  when  seeing  him  justly  delighted  with 
Solander's  2  conversation,  I  observed  once  that  he  was  a  man  of 
great  parts  who  talked  from  a  full  mind — *  It  may  be  so  (said 
Mr.  Johnson),  but  you  cannot  know  it  yet,  nor  I  neither :  the 
pump  works  well,  to  be  sure!  but  how,  I  wonder,  are  we  to 
decide  in  so  very  short  an  acquaintance,  whether  it  is  supplied  by 
a  spring  or  a  reservoir  ? ' — He  always  made  a  great  difference  in 

am  certain  that  a  more  active  friend  Captain    Cook  in  his    first  voyage 

has  rarely  been  found  in  any  age.'  round  the  world.  Life,  v.  328.     Pro- 

Life,  iv.  344.  '  Johnson,'  says  Murphy  fessor  Siidenberg  of  the  University 

(Essay,  &€.,  p.  96),  '  felt   not  only  of  Lunde  tells  me  that  Solander  is 

kindness  but  zeal  and  ardour  for  his  an  artificially  formed  name  after  a 

friends.'  fashion    still  common    in    Sweden, 

1  '  Dick '   was  no  doubt  Richard  when  a  man  of  humble  origin  rises 
Burney.     Boswell  says  that  in  1778,  to  a  learned   profession.     Probably 
'  Dr.  Johnson    not    only    wrote    to  Solander  or  his  father  had  a  name 
Dr.   Joseph   Warton    in    favour    of  which  began  with  Sol,  to  which  was 
Dr.  Burney's  youngest  son,  who  was  added  the  Greek  termination  ander. 
to  be  placed  in  the  college  of  Win-  Professor   Siidenberg  gave   me  the 
Chester,  but  accompanied  him  when  following  instance  of  this  usage.     A 
he  went  thither.'    Life,  iii.  367.     See  clergyman  whom  he  knows  is  named 
also  Early  Diary  of  Frances  Burney,  Evander.     He  came  from  the  parish 
ii.  284.  of  Efocslof.    £/"he  changed  into  Ev, 

2  Dr.  Solander  was  a  Swede  who,  and  added  ander. 
with    Joseph    Banks,  accompanied 

his 


Anecdotes.  281 


his  esteem  between  talents  and  erudition  ;  and  when  he  saw 
a  person  eminent  for  literature,  though  wholly  unconversable,  it 
fretted  him  z.  *  Teaching  such  tonies 2  (said  he  to  me  one  day),  is 
like  setting  a  lady's  diamonds  in  lead,  which  only  obscures  the 
lustre  of  the  stone,  and  makes  the  possessor  ashamed  on't.' 
Useful  and  what  we  call  every-day  knowledge  had  the  most  of  his 
just  praise.  '  Let  your  boy  learn  arithmetic 3,  dear  Madam,'  was 
his  advice  to  the  mother  of  a  rich  young  heir :  '  he  will  not  then 
be  a  prey  to  every  rascal  which  this  town  swarms  with  :  teach 
him  the  value  of  money,  and  how  to  reckon  it ;  ignorance  to 
a  wealthy  lad  of  one-and-twenty,  is  only  so  much  fat  to  a  sick 
sheep  :  it  just  serves  to  call  the  rooks  about  him.' 

And  all  that  prey  in'  [on]  vice  or  folly 

Joy  to  see  their  quarry  fly ; 
Here  the  gamester  light  and  jolly. 

There  the  lender  grave  and  sly. 

These  improvise  lines,  making  part  of  a  long  copy  of  verses 
which  my  regard  for  the  youth  on  whose  birth-day  they  were 
written  obliges  me  to  suppress  lest  they  should  give  him  pain  4, 
shew  a  mind  of  surprising  activity  and  warmth  ;  the  more  so 
as  he  was  past  seventy  years  of  age  when  he  composed  them : 
but  nothing  more  certainly  offended  Mr.  Johnson,  than  the  idea 
of  a  man's  faculties  (mental  ones  I  mean)  decaying  by  time  ;  '  It 
is  not  true,  Sir  (would  he  say) ;  what  a  man  could  once  do,  he 
would  always  do,  unless  indeed  by  dint  of  vicious  indolence,  and 
compliance  with  the  nephews  and  nieces  who  crowd  round  an 

1  Post,  p.  289.  4  The  youth  was  Sir  John  Lade. 

2  Webster  defines  Tony  as  a  sim-       Ante,  p.  213,  n.  2,  and  Hayward's 
pleton.  Piozzi,  i.  78.   Eight  years  later  Mrs. 

'  In    short,  a   Pattern  and    com-  Piozzi  published  these  lines  in  her 

panion  fit  British    Synonomy,  i.  359,   whence 

For  all   the   keeping  Tonyes  of  Boswell   copied  them  for  the  third 

the  Pit.'  edition  of  the  Life,  iv.  412,  n.  2.   She 

Dryden.     Prologue  to  All  For  adds  to  the  wonder  by  making  them 

Love,  1.  15.  'improvise.'   Johnson  wrote  to  her  on 

3  Writing  to  one  of  Mrs.  Thrale's  Aug.  8,  1780:—'  You  have  heard  in 
daughters  he  says :— 'Nothingamuses  the  papers  how  ...  is  come  to  age  ; 
more  harmlessly  than  computation,  I  have  enclosed  a  short  song  of  con- 
and  nothing  is  oftener  applicable  to  gratulation,    which    you    must    not 
real  business  or  speculative  enquiries.'  show  to  anybody.'     Letters,  ii.  190. 
Letters,  ii.  321.     Szzpost,  p.  295.  See/^/,  in  Mr.  Hoole's  Anecdotes. 

Old 


282  Anecdotes. 


old  fellow,  and  help  to  tuck  him  in,  till  he,  contented  with  the 
exchange  of  fame  for  ease,  e'en  resolves  to  let  them  set  the 
pillows  at  his  back,  and  gives  no  further  proof  of  his  existence 
than  just  to  suck  the  jelly  that  prolongs  it  V 

For  such  a  life  or  such  a  death  Dr.  Johnson  was  indeed  never 
intended  by  Providence  :  his  mind  was  like  a  warm  climate, 
which  brings  every  thing  to  perfection  suddenly  and  vigorously, 
not  like  the  alembicated2  productions  of  artificial  fire,  which 
always  betray  the  difficulty  of  bringing  them  forth  when  their 
size  is  disproportionate  to  their  flavour.  Je  ferois  un  Roman 
tout  comme  un  atttre,  mais  la  vie  nest  point  un  Roman,  says 
a  famous  French  writer ;  and  this  was  so  certainly  the  opinion  of 
the  Author  of  the  Rambler,  that  all  his  conversation  precepts 
tended  towards  the  dispersion  of  romantic  ideas,  and  were  chiefly 
intended  to  promote  the  cultivation  of 

That  which  before  thee  [us]  lies  in  daily  life. 

MILTON  3. 

And  when  he  talked  of  authors,  his  praise  went  spontaneously 
to  such  passages  as  are  sure  in  his  own  phrase  to  leave  something 
behind  them  useful  on  common  occasions,  or  observant  of 
common  manners.  For  example,  it  was  not  the  two  last,  but 
the  two  first,  volumes  of  Clarissa  that  he  prized  ;  *  For  give  me 
a  sick  bed,  and  a  dying  lady  (said  he),  and  I'll  be  pathetic  my 
self:  but  Richardson  had  picked  the  kernel  of  life  (he  said), 
while  Fielding  was  contented  with  the  husk4.'  It  was  not  King 

1  '  There  is  nothing,'  said  Johnson,  love   of  ease  against  diligence  and 
'  against  which  an  old  man  should  be  perseverance.'     Letters,  i.  401. 
so  much  upon  his  guard  as  putting  2  This  word  apparently  is  of  Mrs. 
himself  out  to  nurse.'     Life,  ii.  474.  Piozzi's   coining.     She   seems  to  be 
Writing  to  Mrs.  Thrale  of  her  hus-  speaking   of  fruit  grown    in  a  hot- 
band   he   says: — 'Every    man   has  house.     It  is  a  pity  that  she  forgot  to 
those  about  him  who  wish  to  soothe  include  alembicated  in  her  British 
him  into  inactivity  and  delitescence,  Synonymy. 
nor  is  there  any  semblance  of  kind-  3  Paradise  Lost,  viii.  193. 
ness  more  vigorously  to  be  repelled  4  '  In  comparing  those  two  writers, 
than   that   which   voluntarily  offers  he  used  this  expression :  *  that  there 
a  vicarious  performance  of  the  tasks  was  as  great  a  difference  between 
of  life,  and  conspires  with  the  natural  them  as  between  a  man  who  knew 

Lear 


Anecdotes. 


283 


Lear  cursing  his  daughters,  or  deprecating  the  storm,  that  I  re 
member  his  commendations  of;  but  lago's  ingenious  malice,  and 
subtle  revenge I ;  or  prince  Hal's  gay  compliance  with  the  vices 
of  Falstaff,  whom  he  all  along  despised.  Those  plays  had  indeed 
no  rivals  in  Johnson's  favour :  '  No  man  but  Shakespeare  (he 
said)  could  have  drawn  Sir  John  V 

His  manner  of  criticising  and  commending  Addison's  prose, 
was  the  same  in  conversation  as  we  read  it  in  the  printed  stric 
tures,  and  many  of  the  expressions  used  have  been  heard  to  fall 
from  him  on  common  occasions 3.  It  was  notwithstanding 
observable  enough  (or  I  fancied  so),  that  he  did  never  like, 
though  he  always  thought  fit  to  praise  it ;  and  his  praises  re 
sembled  those  of  a  man  who  extols  the  superior  elegance  of  high 
painted  porcelain,  while  he  himself  always  chuses  to  eat  off  plate. 
I  told  him  so  one  day,  and  he  neither  denied  it  nor  appeared 
displeased. 

Of  the  pathetic  in  poetry  he  never  liked  to  speak,  and  the 
only  passage  I  ever  heard  him  applaud  as  particularly  tender 


how  a  watch  was  made,  and  a  man 
who  could  tell  the  hour  by  looking 
on  the  dial-plate.'  Life,  ii.  49.  See 
also  ib.  ii.  174.  Smollett  speaks  of 
'  an  amazing  knowledge  and  com 
mand  of  human  nature '  found  in 
Richardson.  Hist,  of  England,  v.  382. 
1  '  The  fiery  openness  of  Othello, 
magnanimous,  artless,  and  credulous, 
boundless  in  his  confidence,  ardent 
in  his  affection,  inflexible  in  his 
resolution,  and  obdurate  in  his  re 
venge ;  the  cool  malignity  of  lago, 
silent  in  his  resentment,  subtle  in 
his  designs,  and  studious  at  once 
of  his  interest  and  his  vengeance  ; 
the  soft  simplicity  of  Desdemona, 
confident  of  merit,  and  conscious  of 
innocence,  her  artless  perseverance 
in  her  suit,  and  her  slowness  to 
suspect  that  she  can  be  suspected, 
are  such  proofs  of  Shakespeare's 
skill  in  human  nature  as,  I  suppose, 
it  is  vain  to  seek  in  any  modern 


writer.'  Johnson's  Shakespeare,  viii. 
472. 

2  'But   Falstaff,    unimitated,   un- 
imitable   Falstaff,  how  shall  I    de 
scribe  thee  ?      Thou    compound   of 
sense  and  vice  ;  of  sense  which  may 
be   admired,  but   not    esteemed,   of 
vice   which    may  be   despised,   but 
hardly  detested.     Falstaff  is  a  char 
acter   loaded   with   faults,  and  with 
those    faults    which    naturally   pro 
duce  contempt.     He  is  a  thief,  and 
a  glutton,  a  coward,  and  a  boaster, 
always    ready   to    cheat    the    weak 
and  prey  upon  the  poor ;  to  terrify 
the    timorous    and    insult    the    de 
fenceless.  .  .  .  Yet    the    man    thus 
corrupt,  thus  despicable,  makes  him- 

.self  necessary  to  the  Prince  that  de 
spises  him  by  the  most  pleasing  of  all 
qualities,  perpetual  gaiety,  by  an  un 
failing  power  of  exciting  laughter  .  .  .' 
Ib.  iv.  356. 

3  Ante,  p.  233. 

in 


284 


A  necdotes. 


in   any   common  book,   was   Jane    Shore's  exclamation  in  the 

last  act, 

Forgive  me  !   but  forgive  me T ! 

It  was  not  however  from  the  want  of  a  susceptible  heart  that 
he  hated  to  cite  tender  expressions,  for  he  was  more  strongly 
and  more  violently  affected  by' the  force  of  words  representing 
ideas  capable  of  affecting  him  at  all,  than  any  other  man  in  the 
world  I  believe ;  and  when  he  would  try  to  repeat  the  celebrated 
Prosa  Ecclesiastica  pro  Morttti-s*,  as  it  is  called,  beginning  Dies 
irce,  Dies  ilia,  he  could  never  pass  the  stanza  ending  thus,  Tanttis 
labor  non  sit  cassus 3,  without  bursting  into  a  flood  of  tears  ; 
which  sensibility  I  used  to  quote  against  him  when  he  would 
inveigh  against  devotional  poetry,  and  protest  that  all  religious 
verses  were  cold  and  feeble,  and  unworthy  the  subject,  which 
ought  to  be  treated  with  higher  reverence,  he  said,  than  either 
poets  or  painters  could  presume  to  excite  or  bestow  4.  Nor  can 
any  thing  be  a  stronger  proof  of  Dr.  Johnson's  piety  than  such 
an  expression ;  for  his  idea  of  poetfy  was  magnificent  indeed, 

3  'Quaerens  me  sedisti  lassus. 

Redemisti  crucem  passus : 
Tantus  labor  non  sit  cassus.' 

4  '  Watts's  devotional  poetry  is,  like 
that  of  others,  unsatisfactory.     The 
paucity   of  its  topics   enforces  per 
petual  repetition,  and   the  sanctity 
of  the  matter  rejects  the  ornaments 
of  figurative  diction.     It  is  sufficient 
for  Watts  to  have  done  better  than 
others  what  no  man  has  done  well.' 
Works,  viii.  386.      See  also  ib.  vii. 


1  '  What  she  answers  to  her  hus 
band  when  he  asks  her  movingly, — 

"  Why  dost  thou  fix  thy  dying  eyes 

upon  me 
With   such  an  earnest,   such  a 

piteous  look, 
As  if  thy  heart  was  full  of  some 

sad  meaning 

Thou  couldst  not  speak!" 
is  pathetic  to  a  great  degree. 

"  Forgive  me  !  but  forgive  me  ! " 
These  few  words  far  exceed  the 
most  pompous  declamations  of  Cato.' 
J.  Warton's  Essay  on  Pope,  ed.  1762, 
i.  273. 

'  Johnson  says  of  Rowe's  Jane 
Shore  :  —  "  This  play,  consisting 
chiefly  of  domestic  scenes  and  pri 
vate  distress,  lays  hold  upon  the 
heart."'  Works,  vii.  410.  See  ante, 
p.  252,  n.  3. 

2  In   Daniel's   Thesaurus,   ii.  103, 
the  Dies  Irae   is   called    Prosa  de 
Mortuis. 


213  (The  Life  of  Waller],  where 
Johnson  explains  why  '  poetical  de 
votion  cannot  often  please.' 

'  Moses  Browne  published  in  verse 
a  series  of  devout  contemplations 
called  Sunday  Thoughts.  Johnson, 
who  for  the  purpose  of  religious  me 
ditation  seemed  to  think  one  day 
as  proper  as  another,  read  them  with 
cold  approbation,  and  said  he  had 
a  great  mind  to  write  and  publish 
Monday  Thoughts.1  Nichols's  Lit. 
Anec.  v.  51. 

and 


Anecdotes.  285 


and  very  fully  was  he  persuaded  of  its  superiority  over  every 
other  talent  bestowed  by  heaven  on  man.  His  chapter  upon 
that  particular  subject  in  his  Rasselas  x,  is  really  written  from 
the  fulness  of  his  heart,  and  quite  in  his  best  manner  I  think. 
I  am  not  so  sure  that  this  is  the  proper  place  to  mention  his 
writing  that  surprising  little  volume  in  a  week  or  ten  days'  time, 
in  order  to  obtain  money  for  his  journey  to  Lichfield  when  his 
mother  lay  upon  her  last  sickbed 2. 

Promptitude  of  thought  indeed,  and  quickness  of  expression, 
were  among  the  peculiar  felicities  of  Johnson :  his  notions  rose 
up  like  the  dragon's  teeth  sowed  by  Cadmus  all  ready  clothed, 
and  in  bright  armour  too,  fit  for  immediate  battle3.  He  was 
therefore  (as  somebody  is  said  to  have  expressed  it)  a  tremendous 
converser4,  and  few  people  ventured  to  try  their  skill  against 
an  antagonist  with  whom  contention  was  so  hopeless.  One 
gentleman  however,  who  dined  at  a  nobleman's  house  in  his 
company  and  that  of  Mr.  Thrale,  to  whom  I  was  obliged  for  the 
anecdote,  was  willing  to  enter  the  lists  in  defence  of  King 
William's  character5,  and  having  opposed  and  contradicted 
Johnson  two  or  three  times  petulantly  enough ;  the  master  of 
the  house  began  to  feel  uneasy,  and  expected  disagreeable  con 
sequences  :  to  avoid  which  he  said,  loud  enough  for  the  Doctor 
to  hear,  Our  friend  here  has  no  meaning  now  in  all  this,  except 
just  to  relate  at  club  to-morrow  how  he  teized  Johnson  at  dinner 
to-day — this  is  all  to  do  himself  honour.  No,  upon  my  word, 
replied  the  other,  I  see  no  honour  in  it,  whatever  you  may  do. 
( Well,  Sir !  (returned  Mr.  Johnson  sternly)  if  you  do  not  see  the 
honour,  I  am  sure  I  feel  the  disgrace' 

1  Chapter  x.  formal    preparation,   no    flourishing 

2  Johnson  probably  began  Rasselas  with  his  sword  ;  he  is  through  your 
in   order   to   obtain   money  for  his  body  in  an  instant."  '    Life,  ii.  365. 
journey  to  Lichfield,  but  he  did  not  4  George   Garrick   called  him  '  a 
get  it  finished  in  time.     Life,  \.  341 ;  tremendous  companion.'     Id.  i.  496, 
Letters,  i.  79.  n.  I  ;  iii.  139. 

3  'Sir  Joshua    observed    to    me  5  Johnson  called  William  III  '  one 
the  extraordinary  promptitude  with  of  the  most  worthless  scoundrels  that 
which  Johnson  flew  upon  an  argu-  ever  existed.'     Ib.  ii.  342.    See  also 
ment.     "  Yes,   (said  I,)  he  has  no  ib.  v.  255. 

A  young 


286  A  necdotes. 


A  young  fellow,  less  confident  of  his  own  abilities,  lamenting 
one  day  that  he  had  lost  all  his  Greek — '  I  believe  it  happened 
at  the  same  time,  Sir  (said  Johnson),  that  I  lost  all  my  large 
estate  in  Yorkshire.' 

But  however  roughly  he  might  be  suddenly  provoked  to  treat 
a  harmless  exertion  of  vanity,  he  did  not  wish  to  inflict  the  pain 
he  gave,  and  was  sometimes  very  sorry  when  he  perceived  the 
people  to  smart  more  than  they  deserved  x.  How  harshly  you 
treated  that  man  to-day,  said  I  once,  who  harangued  us  so  about 
gardening — '  I  am  sorry  (said  he)  if  I  vexed  the  creature,  for 
there  certainly  is  no  harm  in  a  fellow's  rattling  a  rattle-box, 
only  don't  let  him  think  that  he  thunders.' — The  Lincolnshire 
lady2  who  shewed  him  a  grotto  she  had  been  making,  came 
off  no  better  as  I  remember :  Would  it  not  be  a  pretty  cool 
habitation  in  summer  ?  said  she,  Mr.  Johnson !  '  I  think  it 
would,  Madam  (replied  he), — for  a  toad.' 

All  desire  of  distinction  indeed  had  a  sure  enemy  in  Mr.  John 
son.  We  met  a  friend  driving  six  very  small  ponies,  and  stopt 
to  admire  them.  '  Why  does  nobody  (said  our  doctor)  begin  the 
fashion  of  driving  six  spavined 3  horses,  all  spavined  of  the  same 
leg  ?  it  would  have  a  mighty  pretty  effect,  and  produce  the  dis 
tinction  of  doing  something  worse  than  the  common  way.' 

When  Mr.  Johnson  had  a  mind  to  compliment  any  one,  he  did 
it  with  more  dignity  to  himself,  and  better  effect  upon  the 
company,  than  any  man.  I  can  recollect  but  few  instances 
indeed,  though  perhaps  that  may  be  more  my  fault  than  his. 
When  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  left  the  room  one  day,  he  said, 
'  There  goes  a  man  not  to  be  spoiled  by  prosperity  V  And 

1  He    wrote    to    Dr.    Taylor    on  ton  in   Lincolnshire.     Life,   i.   476. 
Nov.  18,1756: — 'When  I  am  musing  In    the    Taylor   Gallery   in    Oxford 
alone  I  feel  a  pang  for  every  mo-  there  is  a  water-colour  drawing  of 
ment  that  any  human  being  has  by  the  house. 

my  peevishness  or  obstinacy  spent  3    Spavined  is   not   in   Johnson's 

in  uneasiness.'     Letters,  i.  72.  Dictionary.     He  only  gives  Spavin. 

2  In  1764  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  4  'Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Sir,  is  the 
Langton  family  at  their  seat  of  Lang-  most  invulnerable  man  I  know ;  the 

when 


Anecdotes. 


287 


when  Mrs.  Montague  shewed  him  some  China  plates  which  had 
once  belonged  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  he  told  her,  '  that  they  had 
no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  their  present  possessor,  who  was  so 
little  inferior  to  the  first  V     I  likewise  remember  that  he  pro 
nounced  one  day  at  my  house  a  most  lofty  panegyric  upon  Jones 
the  Orientalist,  who  seemed  little  pleased  with  the  praise,  for 
what  cause  I  know  not2.     He  was  not  at  all  offended,  when 
comparing  all  our  acquaintance  to  some  animal  or  other,  we 
pitched  upon  the  elephant  for  his  resemblance,  adding  that  the 
proboscis  of  that  creature  was  like  his  mind  most  exactly,  strong 
to  buffet  even  the  tyger,  and  pliable  to  pick  up  even  the  pin. 
/The  truth  is,  Mr.  Johnson  was  often  good-humouredly  willing  to 
/   join  in  childish  amusements,  and  hated  to  be  left  out  of  any 
I     innocent  merriment  that  was  going  forward.    Mr.  Murphy  always 
I  said,  he  was  incomparable  at  buffoonery  ;  and  I  verily  think,  if 
he  had  had  good  eyes,  and  a  form  less  inflexible,  he  would  have 
made  an  admirable  mimic  3. 

He  certainly  rode  on  Mr.  Thrale's  old  hunter  with  a  good 


man  with  whom  if  you  should  quar- 
rel,  you  would  find  the  most  dif- 
ficulty  how  to  abuse.'  Life,  v.  102. 

1  Mrs.  Montagu's  name  was  Eliza- 
beth.  For  Johnson's  praise  of  her 
conversation  see  ib.  iv.  275,  and 
for  her  pretence  to  learning,  ib.  iii. 
244.  It  was  mainly  by  reason  of  her 
wealth  that  she  was  famous  for  her 
wit  and  writings.  Johnson  said  of 
her  :  —  '  Mrs.  Montagu  has  dropped 
me.  Now,  Sir,  there  are  people 
whom  one  should  like  very  well  to 
drop,  but  would  not  wish  to  be 
dropped  by.'  Ib.  iv.  73. 

To  her  might  be  applied  what 
Macaulay  wrote  of  Rogers,  far  in- 
ferior  to  him  though  she  was  as 
a  writer.  '  That  such  men  as  Lord 
Granville,  Lord  Holland,  Hob  house, 
Lord  Byron,  and  others  of  high 
rank  in  intellect,  should  place  Rogers, 
as  they  do,  above  Southey,  Moore, 
and  even  Scott  himself,  is  what  I 


cannot  conceive.  But  this  comes  of 
being  in  the  highest  society  of  Lon- 
don.  What  Lady  Jane  Granville  [in 
Miss  Edgeworth's  Patronage\  called 
the  Patronage  of  Fashion  can  do  as 
much  for  a  middling  poet  as  for 
a  plain  girl  like  Miss  Arabella  Fal- 
coner.'  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ed. 
1877,  i.  219. 

2  Sir  William  Jones  was  famous 
for  his  modesty,  if  we  can  trust  Dean 
Barnard's  line  :  — 

*  Jones  teach  me   modesty  —  and 
Greek.'    Life,  iv.  433. 

3  '  Dr.  Johnson  has  more  fun,  and 
comical   humour,  and  love   of  non- 
sense  about  him  than  almost   any- 
body  I  ever  saw.'    Mme.  D'Arblay's 
Diary,  i.  204.     '  Gesticular  mimicry 
and  buffoonery  Johnson  hated,  and 
would  often  huff  Garrick  for  exercis- 
ing  it  in  his  presence.'     Hawkins's 
Johnson,  p.  386.     See  ante,  p.  269, 
post,  p.  345. 

firmness 


288 


Anecdotes. 


firmness,  and  though  he  would  follow  the  hounds  fifty  miles  an 
end  sometimes,  would  never  own  himself  either  tired  or  amused x. 
*  I  have  now  learned  (said  he),  by  hunting,  to  perceive,  that  it  is 
no  diversion  at  all,  nor  ever  takes  a  man  out  of  himself  for 
a  moment :  the  dogs  have  less  sagacity  than  I  could  have  pre 
vailed  on  myself  to  suppose ;  and  the  gentlemen  often  call  to  me 
not  to  ride  over  them.  It  is  very  strange,  and  very  melancholy, 
that  the  paucity  of  human  pleasures  should  persuade  us  ever  to 
call  hunting  one  of  them2.' — He  was  however  proud  to  be 
amongst  the  sportsmen  ;  and  I  think  no  praise  ever  went  so  close 
to  his  heart,  as  when  Mr.  Hamilton 3  called  out  one  day  upon 
Brighthelmstone  Downs,  Why  Johnson  rides  as  well,  for  aught 
I  see,  as  the  most  illiterate  fellow  in  England. 

Though  Dr.  Johnson  owed  his  very  life  to  air  and  exercise, 
given  him  when  his  organs  of  respiration  could  scarcely  play,  in 
the  year  ij664,  yet  he  ever  persisted  in  the  notion,  that  neither 
of  them  had  any  thing  to  do  with  health 5.  '  People  live  as  long 


1  '  Dr.  Johnson  told  us  at  break 
fast  that  he  rode  harder  at  a  fox 
chace  than  anybody.'  Life,  v.  253. 
Writing  to  Mrs.  Thrale  on  August  27, 
1777,  in  the  midst  of  an  abundant 
harvest,  he  says:  —  'Barley,  malt, 
beer,  and  money.  There  is  the  se 
ries  of  ideas.  The  deep  logicians  call 
it  a  sorites.  I  hope  my  master  will 
no  longer  endure  the  reproach  of  not 
keeping  me  a  horse.'  Letters,  ii.  25. 

'  Riding  had  no  tendency  to  raise 
Johnson's  spirits ;  and  he  once  told 
me  that  in  a  journey  on  horseback 
he  fell  asleep.'  Hawkins's  Johnson, 
p.  458. 

a  '  The  public  pleasures  of  far  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  are  coun- 
feit.'  The  Idler,  No.  18. 

3  William  Gerard  Hamilton. 

4  Ante,  p.  234. 

5  In  \h&  Rambler,  No.  85,  he  points 
out  *  how  much  happiness  is  gained, 
and  how  much  misery  escaped,  by 
frequent  and  violent  agitation  of  the 


body.  .  .  .  Exercise  cannot  secure  us 
from  that  dissolution  to  which  we  are 
decreed  :  but  while  the  soul  and  body 
continue  united,  it  can  make  the  as 
sociation  pleasing,  and  give  probable 
hopes  that  they  shall  be  disjoined  by 
an  easy  separation.' 

He  wrote  to  Dr.  Taylor :— '  I  hope 
you  are  diligent  to  take  as  much 
exercise  as  you  can  bear.  ...  I  take 
the  true  definition  of  exercise  to  be 
labour  without  weariness.'  Letters,  ii. 
102.  '  Exercise  short  of  great  fatigue 
must  be  your  great  medicine.'  Ib. 
ii.  355.  He  urged  Mr.  Thrale  to 
ride.  Ib.  ii.  73,  106. 

He  recommended  to  Boswell  as  a 
remedy  against  melancholy  '  a  great 
deal  of  exercise.'  Life,  i.  446. 

Though  in  his  strength  he  ridiculed 
the  notion  that  weather  much  affects 
us  (Ib.  i.  332,  452  ;  ii.  358),  neverthe 
less  when  ill  he  owned  the  effect  of 
change  of  air.  In  1773  he  wrote  : — 
'  My  cold  was  once  so  bad  that  I 

(said 


Anecdotes.  289 


(said  he)  in  Pepper-alley x  as  on  Salisbury-plain ;  and  they  live 
so  much  happier,  that  an  inhabitant  of  the  first  would,  if  he 
turned  cottager,  starve  his  understanding  for  want  of  conversation, 
and  perish  in  a  state  of  mental  inferiority 2.' 

Mr.  Johnson  indeed,  as  he  was  .a  very  talking  man  himself, 
had  an  idea  that  nothing  promoted  happiness  so  much  as  con 
versation.  A  friend's  erudition  was  commended  one  day  as 
equally  deep  and  strong — '  He  will  not  talk,  Sir  (was  the  reply), 
so  his  learning  does  no  good,  and  his  wit,  if  he  has  it,  gives  us  no 
pleasure :  out  of  all  his  boasted  stores  I  never  heard  him  force 
but  one  word,  and  that  word  was  Richard*'  With  a  contempt 
not  inferior  he  received  the  praises  of  a  pretty  lady's  face  and 
behaviour :  '  She  says  nothing,  Sir  (answers  Johnson) ;  a  talking 
blackamoor  were  better  than  a  white  creature  who  adds  nothing 
to  life,  and  by  sitting  down  before  one  thus  desperately  silent, 
takes  away  the  confidence  one  should  have  in  the  company  of 
her  chair  if  she  were  once  out  of  it.' — No  one  was  however 
less  willing  to  begin  any  discourse  than  himself:  his  friend 

began    to    think    of    country    air.'  country,  are  fit  for  the   country." ' 

Letters,  i.  208.  In  1782  : — '  I  am  now  Ib.  iv.  338. 

harassed  by  a  catarrhous  cough,  from  3  '  Demosthenes  Taylor,  as  he  was 

which  my  purpose  is  to  seek  relief  called,  (that  is,  the  Editor  of  Demos- 

by    change   of  air.'      Life,   iv.    151.  thenes)   was   the   most   silent  man, 

See  also  ib.  iv.  336,  348.  the  merest  statue  of  a  man  that  I 

1  Three  alleys  of  this  name   are  have   ever   seen.     I   once   dined   in 
mentioned  in  Dodsley's  London  and  company  with  him,  and  all  he  said 
its  Environs.  during  the  whole  time  was  no  more 

'JOHNSON.  "  I'll  take  you  five  chil-  than  Richard.  How  a  man  should 
dren  from  London,  who  shall  cuff  say  only  Richard,  it  is  not  easy  to 
five  Highland  children.  Sir,  a  man  imagine.  But  it  was  thus:  Dr. 
bred  in  London  will  carry  a  burthen,  Douglas  was  talking  of  Dr.  Zachary 
or  run,  or  wrestle,  as  well  as  a  man  Grey,  and  ascribing  to  him  some- 
brought  up  in  the  hardiest  manner  thing  that  was  written  by  Dr.  Richard 
in  the  country." '  Ltfe,\i.  101.  Grey.  So,  to  correct  him,  Taylor 

2  "'Yet  Sir  (said  I)  there  are  many  said,  (imitating  his  affected  senten- 
people  who  are   content   to  live   in  tious  emphasis  and  nod,) "Richard"' 
the   country."    JOHNSON.     "Sir,  it  Ib.  iii.  318. 

is  in  the  intellectual  world  as  in  the  It  was  Taylor  who  said  that   'to 

physical    world  :    we    are    told    by  be  one  of  the  Trustees  of  the  British 

natural  philosophers  that  a  body  is  Museum  should  be  the  blue  ribband 

at  rest  in  the  place  that  is  fit  for  it ;  of  literary  men.'   Nichols's  Lit.  Hist. 

they  who  are  content  to  live  in  the  vi.  304.     See  ante,  p.  281. 

VOL.  I.  U                                               Mr. 


290  A  necdotes. 


Mr.  Thomas  Tyers  said,  he  was  like  the  ghosts,  who  never  speak 
till  they  are  spoken  to :  and  he  liked  the  expression  so  well, 
that  he  often  repeated  it x.  He  had  indeed  no  necessity  to  lead 
the  stream  of  chat  to  a  favourite  channel,  that  his  fulness  on  the 
subject  might  be  shewn  more  clearly,  whatever  was  the  topic  ; 
and  he  usually  left  the  choice  to  others.  His  information  best 
enlightened,  his  argument  strengthened,  and  his  wit  made  it  ever 
remembered.  Of  him  it  might  have  been  said,  as  he  often 
delighted  to  say  of  Edmund  Burke,  '  that  you  could  not  stand 
five  minutes  with  that  man  beneath  a  shed  while  it  rained,  but 
you  must  be  convinced  you  had  been  standing  with  the  greatest 
man  you  had  ever  yet  seen  V 

As  we  had  been  saying  one  day  that  no  subject  failed  of 
receiving  dignity  from  the  manner  in  which  Mr.  Johnson  treated 
it,  a  lady  at  my  house  said,  she  would  make  him  talk  about 
love ;  and  took  her  measures  accordingly,  deriding  the  novels  of 
the  day  because  they  treated  about  love.  '  It  is  not  (replied  our 
philosopher)  because  they  treat,  as  you  call  it,  about  love,  but 
because  they  treat  of  nothing,  that  they  are  despicable :  we  must 
not  ridicule  a  passion  which  he  who  never  felt  never  was  happy, 
and  he  who  laughs  at  never  deserves  to  feel — a  passion  which 
has  caused  the  change  of  empires,  and  the  loss  of  worlds — a 
passion  which  has  inspired  heroism  and  subdued  avarice  V  He 
thought  he  had  already  said  too  much.  '  A  passion,  in  short 
(added  he,  with  an  altered  tone),  that  consumes  me  away  for  my 
pretty  Fanny  here,  and  she  is  very  cruel  (speaking  of  another 
lady  in  the  room).'  He  told  us  however  in  the  course  of  the 
same  chat,  how  his  negro  Francis  had  been  eminent  for  his 
success  among  the  girls.  Seeing  us  all  laugh,  '  I  must  have  you 

1  Life,  iii.  307  ;   v.  73,  and  ante,  p.  extraordinary   man  here."  '     Ib.  iv. 
160.     For  Tyers  see  Life,  iii.  308.  275.    See  also  v.  34,  and^j^,  p.  309. 

2  'Yes,  Sir;  if  a  man  were  to  go  by  3  'Of  the  passion  of  love  Dr.  John- 
chance  at  the  same  time  with  Burke  son  remarked,  that  its  violence  and 
under  a  shed  to  shun  a  shower,  he  ill  effects  were  much  exaggerated ; 
would  say,  "  this  is  an  extraordinary  for   who   knows  any  real  sufferings 
man."     If  Burke  should  go  into  a  on  that  head,  more  than  from  the 
stable  to  see  his  horse  dressed,  the  exorbitancy  of  any  other  passion  ? ' 
ostler  would  say,  "  we  have  had  an  Life,  ii.  122. 

know, 


Anecdotes.  291 


know,  ladies  (said  he),  that  Frank  has  carried  the  empire  of 
Cupid  further  than  most  men.  When  I  was  in  Lincolnshire  so 
many  years  ago,  he  attended  me  thither ;  and  when  we  returned 
home  together,  I  found  that  a  female  haymaker x  had  followed 
him  to  London  for  love.'  Francis  was  indeed  no  small  favourite 
with  his  master,  who  retained  however  a  prodigious  influence 
over  his  most  violent  passions. 

On  the  birth-day  of  our  eldest  daughter,  and  that  of  our 
friend  Dr.  Johnson,  the  iyth  and  i8th  of  September2,  we  every 
year  made  up  a  little  dance  and  supper,  to  divert  our  servants 
and  their  friends,  putting  the  summer-house3  into  their  hands 
for  the  two  evenings,  to  fill  with  acquaintance  and  merriment. 
Francis  and  his  white  wife  were  invited  of  course.  She  was 
eminently  pretty,  and  he  was  jealous,  as  my  maids  told  me.  On 
the  first  of  these  days  amusements  (I  know  not  what  year)  Frank 
took  offence  at  some  attentions  paid  his  Desdemona,  and  walked 
away  next  morning  to  London  in  wrath.  His  master  and  I 
driving  the  same  road  an  hour  after,  overtook  him.  '  What  is 
the  matter,  child  (says  Dr.  Johnson),  that  you  leave  Streatham 
to-day?  Art  sick?'  He  is  jealous  (whispered  I).  'Are  you 
jealous  of  your  wife,  you  stupid  blockhead  (cries  out  his  master 
in  another  tone)  ? '  The  fellow  hesitated  ;  and,  To  be  sure  Sir, 
I  dorit  quite  approve  Sir,  was  the  stammering  reply.  '  Why, 
what  do  they  do  to  her,  man  ?  do  the  footmen  kiss  her  ?  '  No 
Sir,  no! — Kiss  my  wife  Sir  ! — I  hope  not  Sir.  '  Why,  what  do 
they  do  to  her,  my  lad  ? '  Why  nothing  Sir,  I'm  sure  Sir. 
1  Why  then  go  back  directly  and  dance  you  dog,  do  ;  and  let's 
hear  no  more  of  such  empty  lamentations.'  I  believe  however 
that  Francis  was  scarcely  as  much  the  object  of  Mr.  Johnson's 
personal  kindness,  as  the  representative  of  Dr.  Bathurst4,  for 
whose  sake  he  would  have  loved  any  body,  or  any  thing. 

1  The  'haymaker*  must  be  due  to  3  It  was  to  the  summer-house  that 
Mrs.  Piozzi's  lively  invention.    John-  Johnson  on  August  9,  1781  'retired, 
son  visited  Langton  in  the  winter  of  to  plan  a  life  of  greater  diligence.' 
1764  and  was  back  in   London    in  Ante,  p.  99. 

February.     Life,  i.  477.  4  Life,  i.  239,  n.  I. 

2  Ante,  p.  92. 

U  2  When 


292  Anecdotes. 


When  he  spoke  of  negroes1,  he  always  appeared  to  think 
them  of  a  race  naturally  inferior,  and  made  few  exceptions  in 
favour  of  his  own ;  yet  whenever  disputes  arose  in  his  household 
among  the  many  odd  inhabitants  of  which  it  consisted,  he  always 
sided  with  Francis  against  the  others,  whom  he  suspected  (not 
unjustly,  I  believe)  of  greater  malignity.  It  seems  at  once 
vexatious  and  comical  to  reflect,  that  the  dissentions  those  people 
chose  to  live  constantly  in,  distressed  and  mortified  him  exceed 
ingly.  He  really  was  oftentimes  afraid  of  going  home,  because 
he  was  so  sure  to  be  met  at  the  door  with  numberless  com 
plaints  2 ;  and  he  used  to  lament  pathetically  to  me,  and  to 
Mr.  Sastres3  the  Italian  master,  who  was  much  his  favourite, 
that  they  made  his  life  miserable  from  the  impossibility  he  found 
of  making  theirs  happy,  when  every  favour  he  bestowed  on  one 
was  wormwood  to  the  rest.  If,  however,  I  ventured  to  blame 
their  ingratitude,  and  condemn  their  conduct,  he  would  instantly 
set  about  softening  the  one  and  justifying  the  other  ;  and  finished 
commonly  by  telling  me,  that  I  knew  not  how  to  make  allow 
ances  for  situations  I  never  experienced. 

To  thee  no  reason  who  know'st  only  good, 
But  evil  hast  not  try'd.  MILTON*. 

Dr.  Johnson  knew  how  to  be  merry  with  mean  people  too,  as 
well  as  to  be  sad  with  them;  he  loved  the  lower  ranks  of 
humanity  with  a  real  affection :  and  though  his  talents  and 
learning  kept  him  always  in  the  sphere  of  upper  life,  yet  he 
never  lost  sight  of  the  time  when  he  and  they  shared  pain  and 
pleasure  in  common  5.  A  borough  election 6  once  shewed  me 

1  Life,  ii.  478.  as  I  to  be  fastidious,  bear  it  better, 

2  Ib.    iii.    461 ;    Letters,   ii.    74-5,  by  having  mixed  more  with  different 
77,  122,  128;   ante,  p.  205  ;  post,  in  sorts  of  men.    You  would  think  that 
Percy's  Anecdotes.  I  have  mixed  pretty  well  too." '    Life, 

3  Letters^  ii.  414.  v.  307. 

4  Paradise  Lost,  iv.  895.  6  Mrs.  Piozzi  means  no  doubt  an 

5  '  In  our  Tour,  I    observed   that  election  in  the  Borough  of  Southwark 
he  was  disgusted  whenever  he  met  for  which  Mr.  Thrale  was  member 
with   coarse   manners.     He   said  to  from  Dec.  1765,  to  the  dissolution 
me,  "I  know  not  how  it  is,  but   I  of  1780.    Mr.  Matthews,  stationer,  of 
cannot  bear   low  life :    and    I    find  St.  Giles',  Oxford,  showed  me  a  frag- 
others,  who  have  as  good  a  right  ment  of  a  MS.  with   the  following 

his 


Anecdotes. 


293 


his  toleration  of  boisterous  mirth,  and  his  content  in  the  company 
of  people  whom  one  would  have  thought  at  first  sight  little 
calculated  for  his  society.  A  rough  fellow  one  day  on  such  an 
occasion,  a  hatter  by  trade,  seeing  Mr.  Johnson  s  beaver  in  a  state 
of  decay,  seized  it  suddenly  with  one  hand,  and  clapping  him  on 
the  back  with  the  other ;  Ah,  Master  Johnson  (says  he),  this  is 
no  time  to  be  thinking  about  hats.  '  No,  no,  Sir  (replies  our 
Doctor  in  a  cheerful  tone),  hats  are  of  no  use  now,  as  you  say, 
except  to  throw  up  in  the  air  and  huzza  with ; '  accompanying 
his  words  with  the  true  election  halloo x. 


But  it  was  never  against  people  of  coarse  life  that  his  contempt 
was  expressed,  while  poverty  of  sentiment  in  men  who  con 
sidered  themselves  to  be  company  for  the  parlour 2,  as  he  called 
it,  was  what  he  would  not  bear.  A  very  ignorant  young  fellow, 
who  had  plagued  us  all  for  nine  or  ten  months,  died  at  last  con- 


entry:—'  1754,  April  15.  Mr.  Morton 
was  chosen  for  Abingdon,  after  a  long 
opposition  of  first  Collington  Esq. 
who  left  ye  town  and  his  Debts  un 
paid.  Next  Thrale  Esq.,  who  not 
withstanding  ye  Superfluity  of  his 
money  was  rejected  to  ye  Honour 
of  Abingdon.' 

1  Johnson  wrote  to   Mrs.  Thrale 
in  1780: — 'The  voters  of  the  Borough 
are  too  proud  and  too  little  dependant 
to  be   solicited   by   deputies ;    they 
expect  the  gratification  of  seeing  the 
candidate  bowing  or  curtseying  be 
fore  them.     If  you  are   proud  they 
can  be  sullen.'     Letters,  ii.  153. 

2  Johnson   defines    Drawingroom 
as  the  room  in  which  company  as 
sembles  at  court  and  Parlour  as  a 
room   in  houses  on  the  first  floor, 
elegantly  furnished  for  reception  or 
entertainment. 

Mrs.  Raine  Ellis  in  a  note  on 
Miss  Burney's  Early  Diary  (ii.  157) 
says  that  '  Fanny  does  not  seem  to 
have  said  "  drawing-room  "  until  she 
went  to  Court,  as  she  writes  in  her 


Windsor  diary,  "the  drawing-room" 
as  they  call  it  here"  Mrs.  Delany, 
in  1755,  speaks  of  her  "dining-room, 
vulgarly  so  called"  The  old  words 
were  parlour  for  any  sitting-room  ; 
eating-  or  dining-parlour  and  cham 
ber  or  bed-chamber  for  rooms  distinct 
from  those  of  reception.'  In  New 
England  parlour  has  not  been  sup 
planted  by  drawing-room. 

'  Upon  a  visit  to  me  at  a  country 
lodging  near  Twickenham,'  writes 
Dr.  Maxwell,  'Johnson  asked  what 
sort  of  society  I  had  there.  I  told 
him,  but  indifferent ;  as  they  chiefly 
consisted  of  opulent  traders,  retired 
from  business.  He  said,  he  never 
much  liked  that  class  of  people ; 
"For,  Sir  (said  he,)  they  have  lost 
the  civility  of  tradesmen,  without 
acquiring  the  manners  of  gentle 
men.'"  Life,  ii.  120. 

*  The  lower  class  of  the  gentry  and 
the  higher  of  the  mercantile  world  are 
in  reality  the  worst-bred  part  of  man 
kind.'  Joseph  Andrews,  Bk.  iii. 
ch.  3. 

sumptive : 


294  Anecdotes. 


sumptive  :  *  I  think  (said  Mr.  Johnson  when  he  heard  the  news), 
I  am  afraid,  I  should  have  been  more  concerned  for  the  death  of 

the  dog :  but (hesitating  a  while)  I  am  not  wrong  now  in  all 

this,  for  the  dog  acted  up  to  his  character  on  every  occasion  that 
we  know  ;  but  that  dunce  of  a  fellow  helped  forward  the  general 
disgrace  of  humanity.'  Why  dear  Sir  (said  I),  how  odd  you  are  ! 
you  have  often  said  the  lad  was  not  capable  of  receiving  further 
instruction.  *  He  was  (replied  the  Doctor)  like  a  corked  bottle, 
with  a  drop  of  dirty  water  in  it,  to  be  sure  ;  one  might  pump 
upon  it  for  ever  without  the  smallest  effect ;  but  when  every 
method  to  open  and  clean  it  had  been  tried,  you  would  not  have 
me  grieve  that  the  bottle  was  broke  at  last.' 

This  was  the  same  youth  who  told  us  he  had  been  reading 
Lucius  Florus  ;  Flortis  Delphini  was  the  phrase  ;  and  my  mother 
(said  he)  thought  it  had  something  to  do  with  Delphos  :  but  of 
that  I  know  nothing x.  Who  founded  Rome  then  (enquired 
Mr.  Thrale)  ?  The  lad  replied,  Romulus.  And  who  succeeded 
Romulus  (said  I)  ?  A  long  pause,  and  apparently  distressful 
hesitation,  followed  the  difficult  question.  *  Why  will  you  ask 
him  in  terms  that  he  does  not  comprehend  (said  Mr.  Johnson 
enraged)  ?  You  might  as  well  bid  him  tell  you  who  phlebotom 
ised  Romulus.  This  fellow's  dulness  is  elastic  (continued  he), 
and  all  we  do  is  but  like  kicking  at  a  woolsack.' 

The  pains  he  took  however  to  obtain  the  young  man  more 
patient  instructors,  were  many,  and  oftentimes  repeated.  He 
was  put  under  the  care  of  a  clergyman  in  a  distant  province 2  ; 
and  Mr.  Johnson  used  both  to  write  and  talk  to  his  friend  con 
cerning  his  education.  It  was  on  that  occasion  that  I  remember 
his  saying,  '  A  boy  should  never  be  sent  to  Eton  or  Westminster 
school  before  he  is  twelve  years  old  at  least  ;  for  if  in  his  years 
of  babyhood  he  'scapes  that  general  and  transcendent 3  know- 

1  The  youth  had  been  reading  the       Letters,  i.  157. 

edition  of  Florus  '  In  Usum  Serenis-  3  Perhaps  he  said  transcendental, 

simi  Delphini.'  of  which  in  his  Dictionary  he  gives 

2  He  was  perhaps  the  pupil  about  as    the    first    definition: — General, 
whom  Johnson  wrote  to  the  Master  pervading  many  particulars. 

of     Abingdon     Grammar      School. 

ledge 


Anecdotes. 


295 


ledge  without  which  life  is  perpetually  put  to  a  stand,  he  will 
never  get  it  at  a  public  school,  where  if  he  does  not  learn  Latin 
and  Greek,  he  learns  nothing  V  Mr.  Johnson  often  said,  '  that 
there  was  too  much  stress  laid  upon  literature  as  indispensably 
necessary  :  there  is  surely  no  need  that  every  body  should  be 
a  scholar,  no  call  that  every  one  should  square  the  circle.  Our 
manner  of  teaching  (said  he)  cramps  and  warps  many  a  mind, 
which  if  left  more  at  liberty  would  have  been  respectable  in 
some  way,  though  perhaps  not  in  that.  We  lop  our  trees,  and 
prune  them,  and  pinch  them  about  (he  would  say),  and  nail 
them  tight  up  to  the  wall,  while  a  good  standard  is  at  last  the 
only  thing  for  bearing  healthy  fruit,  though  it  commonly  begins 
later.  Let  the  people  learn  necessary  knowledge ;  let  them 
learn  to  count  their  ringers,  and  to  count  their  money,  before 
they  are  caring  for  the  classics  2 ;  for  (says  Mr.  Johnson)  though 
I  do  not  quite  agree  with  the  proverb,  that  Nullum  numen  abest 
si  sit  prudentia,  yet  we  may  very  well  say,  that  Nulhim  numen 
adest — ni  sit  prudentia  V 

We  had  been  visiting  at  a  lady's  house,  whom  as  we  returned 
some  of  the  company  ridiculed  for  her  ignorance  :  '  She  is  not 
ignorant  (said  he),  I  believe,  of  any  thing  she  has  been  taught,  or 
of  any  thing  she  is  desirous  to  know  ;  and  I  suppose  if  one 
wanted  a  little  run  tea,  she  might  be  a  proper  person  enough  to 
apply  to  V 

1  'We  must  own,'  said  Johnson,  So  that  the  question  of  publick  or 

'  that  neither  a  dull  boy,  nor  an  idle  private  education  is  not  properly  a 

boy,  will  do  so  well  at  a  great  school  general  one  ;  but  whether  one  or  the 

as  at  a  private  one.     For  at  a  great  other  is  best  for  my  son.'     Life,  v. 

school  there  are  always  boys  enough  85.     See  also  ib.  iii.  12  ;  iv.  312. 

to  do  well  easily,  who  are  sufficient  3  Ante,  p.  281. 

to  keep  up  the  credit  of  the  school ;  3  '  I     heard    Johnson    once    say, 

and  after  whipping  being   tried   to  ' 'Though  the  proverb  Nullum  numen 

no  purpose,  the  dull  or  idle  boys  are  abest,    si    sit  prudentia,   does    not 

left  at  the  end  of  a  class,  having  the  always  prove  true,  we  may  be  certain 

appearance   of   going    through    the  of  the  converse  of  it,  Nullum  numen 

course,  but  learning  nothing  at  all.  adest,   si  sit  imprudentia" '     Life, 

Such  boys  may  do  good  at  a  private  iv.    180.      See  Juvenal,   Satires,   x. 

school,  where  constant  attention  is  365. 

paid  to  them,  and  they  are  watched.  4  Life,  v.  449,  n.  i. 

When 


296 


Anecdotes. 


When  I  relate  these  various  instances  of  contemptuous  beha 
viour  shewn  to  a  variety  of  people,  I  am  aware  that  those  who 
till  now  have  heard  little  of  Mr.  Johnson  will  here  cry  out  against 
his  pride  and  his  severity ;  yet  I  have  been  as  careful  as  I  could 
to  tell  them,  that  all  he  did  was  gentle,  if  all  he  said  was 
rough.  Had  I  given  anecdotes  of  his  actions  instead  of  his 
words,  we  should  I  am  sure  have  nothing  on  record  but  acts 
of  virtue  differently  modified,  as  different  occasions  called  that 
virtue  forth :  and  among  all  the  nine  biographical  essays  or  per 
formances  which  I  have  heard  will  at  last  be  written  about  dear 
Dr.  Johnson x,  no  mean  or  wretched,  no  wicked  or  even  slightly 
culpable  action  will  I  trust  be  found  %  to  produce  and  put  in  the 
scale  against  a  life  of  seventy  years,  spent  in  the  uniform  prac 
tice  of  every  moral  excellence  and  every  Christian  perfection ; 
save  humility  alone,  says  a  critic,  but  that  I  think  must  be 
excepted.  He  was  not  however  wanting  even  in  that  to  a  degree 
seldom  attained  by  man,  when  the  duties  of  piety  or  charity 
called  it  forth  3. 


1  l.  A  Biographical  Sketch  of  Dr. 
Samuel  Joh  son,  by  Thomas  Tyers, 
Esq.  Gentleman's  Magazine,  De 
cember,  1784. 

2.  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson, 
LL.D.     G.  Kearsley,  1785. 

3.  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Wri 
tings  of  the  late  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson. 
J.  Walker,  1785. 

4.  Anecdotes  of  the  late  Samuel 
Johnson,  LL.D.,  by   H.   L.    Piozzi. 
T.  Cadell,  1786. 

5.  An   Essay  on  the  Life,  Char 
acter,  and  Writings  of  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson,  by  Joseph  Towers,  1786. 

6.  The  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  John 
son,  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Knight, 
1787. 

7.  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson, 
LL.D.,  by  James  Boswell.    C.  Dilly, 

1791- 

8.  An    Essay  on    the    Life    and 
Genius  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D., 
by  Arthur   Murphy.     T.   Longman, 
£c.,  1792. 


9.  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson, 
LL.D.,  with  critical  Observations  on 
his  Works,  by  Robert  Anderson, 
M.D.,  Edinburgh,  1795. 

Dr.  Parr  projected  a  Life  of  John 
son.  Life,  iv.  444. 

2  '  Whatever  record  leap  to  light 

He  never  shall  be  shamed.' 
Tennyson.     Ode  on  the  Death  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington. 

3  'The  solemn  text,  "of  him  to 
whom  much  is  given,  much  will  be 
required,"  seems  to  have  been  ever 
present  to  his  mind,  in   a   rigorous 
sense,  and  to  have  made  him  dis 
satisfied  with  his  labours  and  acts 
of  goodness,  however  comparatively 
great ;  so  that  the  unavoidable  con 
sciousness  of  his  superiority  was,  in 
that   respect,   a  cause   of  disquiet.' 
Life,  iv.  427. 

On  his  death-bed  he  said  to  one 

present : — 'Live  well,  I  conjure  you; 

and  you  will  not  feel  the  compunction 

at  the  last,  which  I  now  feel.'     '  So 

Lowly 


A  necdotes.  297 


Lowly  towards  God,  and  docile  towards  the  church ;  implicit 
in  his  belief  of  the  gospel,  and  ever  respectful  towards  the  people 
appointed  to  preach  it ;  tender  of  the  unhappy,  and  affectionate 
to  the  poor,  let  no  one  hastily  condemn  as  proud,  a  character 
which  may  perhaps  somewhat  justly  be  censured  as  arrogant. 
It  must  however  be  remembered  again,  that  even  this  arrogance 
was  never  shewn  without  some  intention,  immediate  or  remote, 
of  mending  some  fault  or  conveying  some  instruction.  Had 
I  meant  to  make  a  panegyric  on  Mr.  Johnson's  well-known 
excellencies,  I  should  have  told  his  deeds  only,  not  his  words — 
sincerely  protesting,  that  as  I  never  saw  him  once  do  a  wrong 
thing,  so  we  had  accustomed  ourselves  to  look  upon  him  almost 
as  an  excepted  x  being  ;  and  I  should  as  much  have  expected 
injustice  from  Socrates  or  impiety  from  Paschal,  as  the  slightest 
deviation  from  truth  and  goodness  in  any  transaction  one  might 
be  engaged  in  with  Samuel  Johnson.  His  attention  to  veracity 
was  without  equal  or  example 2 :  and  when  I  mentioned 
Clarissa  as  a  perfect  character  ;  '  On  the  contrary  (said  he),  you 
may  observe  there  is  always  something  which  she  prefers  to 
truth.  Fielding's  Amelia  was  the  most  pleasing  heroine  of  all 
4he  romances  (he  said) ;  but  that  vile  broken  nose  never  cured 3, 
ruined  the  sale  of  perhaps  the  only  book,  which  being  printed 
off  betimes  one  morning,  a  new  edition  was  called  for  before 
night  V 

truly  humble,'  adds  Nichols,  'were  the  charms  of  her  person  deserved 

the  thoughts  which  this  great  and  a  much  higher  adoration  to  be  paid 

good   man   entertained  of  his   own  to  her  mind.'     Amelia,  Bk.  ii.  c.  i. 
approaches  to  religious   perfection.'  4  Mrs.  Piozzi  must  mean   'which 

Life,  iv.  410.  being  published  betimes,'  &c. 

1  I  do  not  find  any  instances  of          Wraxhall    (Memoirs,  i.  54),   says 
excepted  as  here  used.     A  writer  of  that  Cadell  told  him  that  his  pre- 
the  present  day  would  perhaps  have  decessor  Andrew  Millar,  who  gave 
said    exceptional — a    word    not    in  Fielding  ,£800  for  the  copyright  of 
Johnson's  Dictionary.  Amelia,  was  advised  'to  get  rid  of 

2  Ante,  p.  225.  it  as  soon  as  he  could.     At  the  first 

3  '  The  injury  done  to  her  beauty  sale  which  he  made  to  the  Trade  he 
by  the  overturning  of  a  chaise,  by  said,   "Gentlemen,    I   have    several 
which,  as  you  may  well  remember,  works  to  put  up  for  which  I    shall 
her  lovely  nose  was  beat  all  to  pieces,  be    glad    if  you    will    bid  ;    but   as 
gave  me  an  assurance  that  the  woman  to  Amelia    every  copy   is    already 
who  had  been  so  much  adored  for  bespoke."       This     manoeuvre    had 

Mr. 


298  Anecdotes. 


Mr.  Johnson's  knowledge  of  literary  history  was  extensive  and 
surprising  :  he  knew  every  adventure  of  every  book  you  could 
name  almost,  and  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  the  opportunity 
which  writing  the  Poets'  Lives  gave  him  to  display  it.  He 
loved  to  be  set  at  work,  and  was  sorry  when  he  came  to  the  end 
of  the  business  he  was  about x.  I  do  not  feel  so  myself  with 
regard  to  these  sheets  :  a  fever  which  has  preyed  on  me  while 
I  wrote  them  over  for  the  press,  will  perhaps  lessen  my  power  of 
doing  well  the  first,  and  probably  the  last  work  I  should  ever 
have  thought  of  presenting  to  the  Public.  I  could  doubtless 
wish  so  to  conclude  it,  as  at  least  to  shew  my  zeal  for  my  friend, 
whose  life,  as  I  once  had  the  honour  and  happiness  of  being 
useful  to,  I  should  wish  to  record  a  few  particular  traits  of,  that 
those  who  read  should  emulate  his  goodness  ;  but  seeing  the 
necessity  of  making  even  virtue  and  learning  such  as  his  agree 
able,  that  all  should  be  warned  against  such  coarseness  of 
\  manners,  as  drove  even  from  him  those  who  loved,  honoured,  and 
"esteemed  him.  His  wife's  daughter,  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter  of  Litch- 
field,  whose  veneration  for  his  person  and  character  has  ever  been 
the  greatest  possible2,  being  opposed  one  day  in  conversation 
by  a  clergyman  who  came  often  to  her  house,  and  feeling  some 
what  offended,  cried  out  suddenly,  Why,  Mr.  Pearson 3,  said  she, 
you  are  just  like  Dr.  Johnson,  I  think  :  I  do  not  mean  that  you 
are  a  man  of  the  greatest  capacity  in  all  the  world  like 

its  effect.     All  the  booksellers  were  as  the  following  in  his  letters  must 

anxious  to  get  their  names  put  down  have   shown    Mrs.  Thrale   that   the 

for   copies   of    it,   and   the    edition,  veneration    was    sometimes    veiled, 

though  very  large,  was  immediately  'July  20,  1767.     Miss  Lucy  is  more 

sold.'  kind    and    civil    than    I    expected.' 

1  About  a  revised  edition  of  his  Letters,  i.  129.     'Lucy  is  a  philo- 
Dictionary  he  wrote : — '  I   am  now  sopher,  and  considers  me  as  one  of 
within  a  few  hours  of  being  able  to  the  external   and   accidental  things 
send    the    whole   dictionary   to   the  that  are  to  be  taken  and  left  without 
press,  and  though  I  often  went  slug-  emotion.'     Ib.  i.  180.    'Aug.  i,  1775. 
gishly  to  the  work  I  am  not  much  Fits  of  tenderness  with   Mrs.  Lucy 
delighted  at  the  completion.'  Letters,  are    not   common ;    but   she   seems 
i.  191.  now  to  have  a  little  paroxysm,  and 

2  Boswell  says  of  her: — 'she  re-  I  was  not  willing  to  counteract  it.' 
verenced  Johnson,   and   he    had    a  /£.  1.359.    '  Oct.  31, 1781.    She  never 
parental  tenderness  for  her.'     Life,  was  so  civil  to  me  before.'    Ib.  ii.  232. 
ii.  462.     Nevertheless  such  passages  3  Letters,  i.  85,  n.  2  ;  ii.  86,  n.  4. 

Dr. 


Anecdotes.  299 


Dr.  Johnson,  but  that  you  contradict  one  every  word  one  speaks, 
just  like  him. 

Mr.  Johnson  told  me  the  story  :  he  was  present  at  the  giving 
of  the  reproof.  It  was  however  observable  that  with  all  his  odd 
severity,  he  could  not  keep  even  indifferent  people  from  teizing 
him  with  unaccountable  confession  of  silly  conduct  which  one 
would  think  they  would  scarcely  have  had  inclination  to  reveal 
even  to  their  tenderest  and  most  intimate  companions  ;  and  it 
was  from  these  unaccountable  volunteers  in  sincerity  that  he 
learned  to  warn  the  world  against  follies  little  known,  and  seldom 
thought  on  by  other  moralists. 

Much  of  his  eloquence,  and  much  of  his  logic  have  I  heard 
him  use  to  prevent  men  from  making  vows  on  trivial  occasions  I ; 
and  when  he  saw  a  person  oddly  perplexed  about  a  slight  diffi 
culty,  '  Let  the  man  alone  (he  would  say),  and  torment  him  no 
more  about  it ;  there  is  a  vow  in  the  case.  I  am  convinced  ;  but 
is  it  not  very  strange  that  people  should  be  neither  afraid  nor 
ashamed  of  bringing  in  God  Almighty  thus  at  every  turn 
between  themselves  and  their  dinner  ? '  When  I  asked  what 
ground  he  had  for  such  imaginations,  he  informed  me,  '  That 
a  young  lady  once  told  him  in  confidence,  that  she  could  never 
persuade  herself  to  be  dressed  against  the  bell  rung  for  dinner, 
till  she  had  made  a  vow  to  heaven  that  she  would  never  more  be 
absent  from  the  family  meals.' 


1  '  BOSWELL.      "  But   you   would  broken  by  some  unforeseen  necessity, 

not   have  me    to    bind    myself    by  They  proceed  commonly  from  a  pre- 

a   solemn    obligation?"     JOHNSON.  sumptuous   confidence  and  a  false 

(much   agitated)   "  What !    a  vow —  estimate  of  human   power.'     John- 

0,  no,  Sir,  a  vow  is  a  horrible  thing,  son's  Shakespeare,  ed.  1765,  ii.  118. 
it    is   a   snare   for  sin."  '     Life,   iii.  '  Lear,  who  is  characterized  as  hot, 
357.     See  also  ib.  ii.  21,  and  Letters,  heady,  and  violent,  is,  with  very  just 

1.  217.  observation  of  life,  made  to  entangle 
'  Biron  amidst  his  extravagancies  himself  with  vows,  upon  any  sudden 

speaks   with   great  justness  against  provocation    to  vow    revenge,    and 

the  folly  of  vows.     They  are  made  then   to   plead   the  obligation  of  a 

without  sufficient  regard  to  the  va-  vow  in  defence  of  implacability.'    Ib. 

nations   of   life,   and   are    therefore  vi.  12. 

The 


300  Anecdotes. 


The  strangest  applications  in  the  world  were  certainly  made 
from  time  to  time  towards  Mr.  Johnson,  who  by  that  means  had 
an  inexhaustible  fund  of  anecdote,  and  could,  if  he  pleased,  tell 
the  most  astonishing  stones  of  human  folly  and  human  weak 
ness  that  ever  were  confided  to  any  man  not  a  confessor  by 
profession. 

One  day  when  he  was  in  a  humour  to  record  some  of  them, 
he  told  us  the  following  tale :  '  A  person  (said  he)  had  for  these 
last  five  weeks  often  called  at  my  door,  but  would  not  leave  his 
name,  or  other  message  ;  but  that  he  wished  to  speak  with  me. 
At  last  we  met,  and  he  told  me  that  he  was  oppressed  by 
scruples  of  conscience  :  I  blamed  him  gently  for  not  applying,  as 
the  rules  of  our  church  direct,  to  his  parish  priest  or  other  discreet 
clergyman ' ;  when,  after  some  compliments  on  his  part,  he  told 
me,  that  he  was  clerk  to  a  very  eminent 2  trader,  at  whose  ware 
houses  much  business  consisted  in  packing  goods  in  order  to  go 
abroad  :  that  he  was  often  tempted  to  take  paper  and  pack 
thread  enough  for  his  own  use,  and  that  he  had  indeed  done  so 
so  often,  that  he  could  recollect  no  time  when  he  ever  had 
bought  any  for  himself. — But  probably  (said  I),  your  master  was 
wholly  indifferent  with  regard  to  such  trivial  emoluments  ;  you 

1  *  If  there  be  any  of  you  who  by  Rev.  and  eminent  Mr.  Warburton  to 
this   means   cannot   quiet   his   own  Miss  Tucker  of  Bath.'     Ib.  p.  502. 
conscience     herein,     but    requireth  '  An  eminent  personage,  however, 
further  comfort  or  counsel,  let  him  he  [Cromwell]  was  in  many  respects, 
come  to  me,  or  to  some  other  dis-  and  even  a  superior  genius.'    Hume's 
creet  and  learned  Minister  of  God's  History  of  England,  ed.   1773,  vii. 
Word,  and  open  his  grief.'     Book  of  290. 

Common  Prayer.     The  Communion.  '  The    son    of    Mr.    Galliard,    an 

2  Eminent  was  a  favourite  word  eminent    Turkey   merchant,   is    the 
last  century ;  the  following  instances  man  with  whom  she  has  made  this 
show  its  use.  exchange.'     Sir  Charles  Grandison, 

' What  would  a  stranger  say  of  the  ed.  1754,  ii.  239. 

English  nation,  in  which  on  the  day  '  He  had  been  an  eminent  man  for 

of  marriage  all   the   men   are  emi-  many  years   for   cursing,   swearing. 

nentV     Johnson's  Works ,  iv.  1 86.  drinking,'    &c.      Wesley's   Journal, 

'  Mr.  Samuel  Vandewall,  an  emi-  ed.  1830,  ii.  133.     'One  of  the  most 

nent  merchant,  was  married  to  the  eminent  drunkards  in  all  the  town.' 

relict  of  Mr.  Harris  Neate.'     Gentle-  Ib.  ii.  226. 
man's  Magazine,  1*745,  p.  51.     '  The 

had 


Anecdotes.  301 


had  better  ask  for  it  at  once,  and  so  take  your  trifles  with  con 
sent. — Oh,  Sir  !  replies  the  visitor,  my  master  bid  me  have  as 
much  as  I  pleased,  and  was  half  angry  when  I  talked  to  him 
about  it. — Then  pray  Sir  (said  I),  teize  me  no  more  about  such 
airy  nothings I  — and  was  going  on  to  be  very  angry,  when 
I  recollected  that  the  fellow  might  be  mad  perhaps  ;  so  I  asked 
him,  When  he  left  the  counting-house  of  an  evening  ? — At  seven 
o'clock,  Sir. — And  when  do  you  go  to-bed,  Sir? — At  twelve 
o'clock. — Then  (replied  I)  I  have  at  least  learned  thus  much  by 
my  new  acquaintance  ; — that  five  hours  of  the  four-and-twenty 
unemployed  are  enough  for  a  man  to  go  mad  in  ;  so  I  would 
advise  you  Sir,  to  study  algebra,  if  you  are  not  an  adept  already 
in  it 2 :  your  head  would  get  less  muddy 3,  and  you  will  leave  off 
tormenting  your  neighbours  about  paper  and  packthread,  while 
we  all  live  together  in  a  world  that  is  bursting  with  sin  and 
sorrow.  It  is  perhaps  needless  to  add,  that  this  visitor  came 
no  more.' 

Mr.  Johnson  had  indeed  a  real  abhorrence  of  a  person  that 
had  ever  before  him  treated  a  little  thing  like  a  great  one :  and 
he  quoted  this  scrupulous  person  with  his  packthread  very  often, 
~m  ridicule  of  a  friend  who,  looking  out  on  Streatham  Common 
from  our  windows  one  day.  lamented  the  enormous  wickedness 
of  the  times,  because  some  bird-catchers  were  busy  there  one  fine 
Sunday  morning.  '  While  half  the  Christian  world  is  permitted 
(said  he)  to  dance  and  sing,  and  celebrate  Sunday  as  a  day 
of  festivity,  how  comes  your  puritanical  spirit  so  offended  with 
frivolous  and  empty  deviations  from  exactness4?  Whoever 

1  '  And  as  imagination  bodies  forth  no  doubt  had  arithmetic  enough  in 

The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  counting-house,  and  so  was  ad- 

the  poet's  pen  vised  not  to  have  recourse  to  it,  but 

Turns  them  to  shape,  and  gives  to  algebra. 

to  airy  nothing  3  '  Dost  think  I  am  so  muddy,  so 

A  local  habitation  and  a  name.'  unsettled, 

A  Midsummer  Nights  Dream,  To  appoint  myself  in  this  vexa- 

Act  v.  sc.  I.  tion?' 

*  'When  Mr.  Johnson  felt  his  fancy,  The  Winter's  Tale,  Act  i.  sc.  2. 

or  fancied  he  felt  it,  disordered,  his  See  Life,  ii.  362,  n.  3. 

constant  recurrence  was  to  the  study  4  '  Dr.  Johnson  enforced  the  strict 

of  arithmetic.'  Ante,p.2oo.  The  clerk  observance  of  Sunday.     "It  should 

loads 


302  Anecdotes. 


loads  life  with  unnecessary  scruples x,  Sir  (continued  he),  pro 
vokes  the  attention  of  others  on  his  conduct,  and  incurs  the 
censure  of  singularity  without  reaping  the  reward  of  superior 
virtue.' 

I  must  not,  among  the  anecdotes  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life,  omit  to 
relate  a  thing  that  happened  to  him  one  day,  which  he  told  me 
of  himself.  As  he  was  walking  along  the  Strand  a  gentleman 
stepped  out  of  some  neighbouring  tavern,  with  his  napkin 2  in  his 
hand  and  no  hat,  and  stopping  him  as  civilly  as  he  could — 
I  beg  your  pardon,  Sir  ;  but  you  are  Dr.  Johnson,  I  believe. 
*  Yes,  Sir.'  We  have  a  wager  depending  on  your  reply  :  Pray, 
Sir,  is  it  irreparable  or  irrepairable  that  one  should  say  ?  £  The 
last  I  think,  Sir  (answered  Dr.  Johnson),  for  the  adjective  ought 
to  follow  the  verb ;  but  you  had  better  consult  my  dictionary 
than  me 3,  for  that  was  the  result  of  more  thought  than  you  will 
now  give  me  time  for.'  No,  no,  replied  the  gentleman  gaily,  the 
book  I  have  no  certainty  at  all  of;  but  here  is  the  author,  to 
whom  I  referred  :  Is  he  not,  Sir  ?  to  a  friend  with  him :  I  have 
won  my  twenty  guineas  quite  fairly,  and  am  much  obliged 
to  you,  Sir;  so  shaking  Mr.  Johnson  kindly  by  the  hand,  he 
went  back  to  finish  his  dinner  or  desert. 

Another  strange  thing  he  told  me  once  which  there  was  no 
danger  of  forgetting  :  how  a  young  gentleman  called  on  him  one 
morning,  and  told  him  that  his  father  having,  just  before  his 
death,  dropped  suddenly  into  the  enjoyment  of  an  ample  fortune, 
he,  the  son,  was  willing  to  qualify  himself  for  genteel  society  by 
adding  some  literature  to  his  other  endowments,  and  wished  to 

be  different  (he  observed)  from  an-  a    napkin    seems    ridiculous    to    a 

other   day.     People   may  walk,   but  Frenchman,  but  in  England  we  dine 

not   throw   stones  at   birds.     There  at   the  tables  of  people  of  tolerable 

may  be  relaxation,  but  there  should  fortune  without  them.'      Travels  in 

be  no  levity.'"     Life,  v.  69.  France,  ed.  1890,  p.  307. 

1  Ante,  p.  38,  n.  5.  3  Irreparable  in    the   Dictionary. 

2  A  napkin  in  a   London   tavern  Mrs.  Piozzi  seems  to  have  thought 
must  have  been  a  rare  thing  in  those  that  the   syllable  pa    in  paro  was 
days.   Arthur  Young,  writing  in  1790,  long. 

says  : — '  The  idea  of  dining  without 

be 


Anecdotes.  303 


be  put  in  an  easy  way  of  obtaining  it.  Johnson  recommended 
the  university  :  '  for  you  read  Latin,  Sir,  with  facility  V  I  read 
it  a  little  to  be  sure,  Sir.  'But  do  you  read  it  with  facility, 
I  say  ? '  Upon  my  word,  Sir,  I  do  not  very  well  know,  but 
I  rather  believe  not.  Mr.  Johnson  now  began  to  recommend 
other  branches  of  science,  when  he  found  languages  at  such 
an  immeasurable  distance,  and  advising  him  to  study  natural 
history,  there  arose  some  talk  about  animals,  and  their  divisions 
into  oviparous  and  viviparous  ;  And  the  cat  here,  Sir,  said  the 
youth  who  wished  for  instruction,  pray  in  which  class  is  she  ? 
Our  doctor's  patience  and  desire  of  doing  good  began  now  to 
give  way  to  the  natural  roughness  of  his  temper.  '  You  would 
do  well  (said  he)  to  look  for  some  person  to  be  always  about 
you,  Sir,  who  is  capable  of  explaining  such  matters,  and  not 
come  to  us  (there  were  some  literary  friends  present  as  I  recol 
lect)  to  know  whether  the  cat  lays  eggs  or  not :  get  a  discreet 
man  to  keep  you  company,  there  are  so  many  who  would  be 
glad  of  your  table  and  fifty  pounds  a  year.'  The  young  gentle 
man  retired,  and  in  less  than  a  week  informed  his  friends  that  he 
had  fixed  on  a  preceptor  to  whom  no  objections  could  be  made ; 
but  when  he  named  as  such  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
characters  in  our  age  or  nation,  Mr.  Johnson  fairly  gave  himself 
up  to  an  honest  burst  of  laughter;  and  seeing  this  youth  at 
such  a  surprising  distance  from  common  knowledge  of  the  world, 
or  of  any  thing  in  it,  desired  to  see  his  visitor  no  more. 

He  had  not  much  better  luck  with  two  boys  that  he  used 
to  tell  of,  to  whom  he  had  taught  the  classics,  *  so  that  (he  saidj 
they  were  no  incompetent  or  mean  scholars : '  it  was  necessary 
however  that  something  more  familiar  should  be  known,  and  he 
bid  them  read  the  history  of  England.  After  a  few  months  had 
elapsed  he  asked  them,  '  If  they  could  recollect  who  first 
destroyed  the  monasteries  in  our  island  ? '  One  modestly 
replied,  that  he  did  not  know  ;  the  other  said,  Jesus  Christ*. 

1  Windham    records    '  Johnson's  make    it    pleasurable.'     Letters,    ii. 

opinion  that  I  could  not  name  above  440. 

five  of  my  college  acquaintance  who  2  Hawkins  (p.  471)  tells  a  similar 

read   Latin   with   sufficient   ease   to  story. 

Of 


3°4 


Anecdotes. 


Of  the  truth  of  stories  which  ran  currently  about  the  town 
concerning  Dr.  Johnson,  it  was  impossible  to  be  certain,  unless 
one  asked  him  himself ;  and  what  he  told,  or  suffered  to  be  told 
before  his  face  without  contradicting,  has  every  possible  mark 
I  think  of  real  and  genuine  authenticity  *.  I  made  one  day  very 
minute  enquiries  about  the  tale  of  his  knocking  down  the  famous 
Tom  Osborne  with  his  own  Dictionary  in  the  man's  own  house. 
And  how  was  that  affair,  in  earnest  ?  do  tell  me,  Mr.  Johnson  ? 
*  There  is  nothing  to  tell,  dearest  Lady,  but  that  he  was  insolent 
and  I  beat  him,  and  that  he  was  a  blockhead  and  told  of  it, 
which  I  should  never  have  done  ;  so  the  blows  have  been  multi 
plying,  and  the  wonder  thickening  for  all  these  years,  as  Thomas 
was  never  a  favourite  with  the  Public.  I  have  beat  many  a  fel 
low,  but  the  rest  had  the  wit  to  hold  their  tongues  V 


1  '  I  once  got  from  one  of  his 
friends  a  list,  [of  his  works]  which 
there  was  pretty  good  reason  to  sup 
pose  was  accurate,  for  it  was  written 
down  in  his  presence  by  this  friend, 
who  enumerated  each  article  aloud, 
and  had  some  of  them  mentioned  to 
him  by  Mr.  Levett,  in  concert  with 
whom  it  was  made  out ;  and  John 
son,  who  heard  all  this,  did  not 
contradict  it.  But  when  I  shewed 
a  copy  of  this  list  to  him,  and  men 
tioned  the  evidence  for  its  exactness, 
he  laughed,  and  said,  "  I  was  willing 
to  let  them  go  on  as  they  pleased, 
and  never  interfered." '  Life,  iii. 
321. 

8  '  It  has  been  confidently  related, 
with  many  embellishments,  that  John 
son  one  day  knocked  Osborne  down 
in  his  shop,  with  a  folio,  and  put  his 
foot  upon  his  neck.  The  simple 
truth  I  had  from  Johnson  himself. 
"Sir,  he  was  impertinent  to  me, 
and  I  beat  him.  But  it  was  not  in  his 
shop  :  it  was  in  my  own  chamber."  ' 
Life,  i.  154. 

'  The  identical  book  with  which 
Johnson  knocked  down  Osborne 
(Biblia  Graeca  Septuaginta,  fol.  1594, 


Frankfort;  the  note  written  by  the 
Rev.  —  Mills)  I  saw  in  February, 
1812,  at  Cambridge,  in  the  posses 
sion  of  J.  Thorpe,  bookseller  ;  whose 
Catalogue,  since  published,  contains 
particulars  authenticating  this  asser 
tion.'  Nichols's  Lit.  Anec.  viii.  446. 
This  folio  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
Sale  Catalogue  of  Johnson's  Library. 
It  is  scarcely  likely  that  Osborne 
brought  it  to  Johnson's  chamber, 
as  schoolboys  used  to  provide  the 
birch  rods  with  which  they  were 
beaten. 

In  Sir  Henry  Irving's  collection 
is  a  copy  of  The  Shakespeare  Folio 
(The  Second  Impression)  in  which 
are  the  following  three  inscription : — 

(1)  'Bo*   at    Dr.   Johnson's   Sale 
Feb.  18,1785.     S.  J.' 

(2)  'This  book   at  the  death  [in 
1744]    of  Theobald    the    editor    of 
Shakespear  came  into  the  hands  of 
Osbourn  ye  bookseller  of  Gray's  Inn 
— who  soon  after  presented  it  to  the 
late  Dr.  Johnson. 

S.  J.  Feb.  25,  1785.' 

(3)  [This    is    a    printed    cutting 
pasted  in.]     '  In  the  late  sale  of  Dr. 
Johnson's  books  there  were  several 

I  have 


Anecdotes.  305 


I  have  heard  Mr.  Murphy x  relate  a  very  singular  story,  while 
he  was  present,  greatly  to  the  credit  of  his  uncommon  skill  and 
knowledge  of  life  and  manners  :  When  first  the  Ramblers  came 
out  in  separate  numbers,  as  they  were  the  objects  of  attention  to 
multitudes  of  people,  they  happened,  as  it  seems,  particularly  to 
attract  the  notice  of  a  society  who  met  every  Saturday  evening 
during  the  summer  at  Rumford  in  Essex,  and  were  known  by  the 
name  of  The  Bowling-green  club.  These  men  seeing  one  day 
the  character  of  Leviculus  the  fortune-hunter,  or  Tetrica  the  old 
maid  :  another  day  some  account  of  a  person  who  spent  his  life 
in  hoping  for  a  legacy,  or  of  him  who  is  always  prying  into  other 
folks  affairs 2,  began  sure  enough  to  think  they  were  betrayed ; 
and  that  some  of  the  coterie  sate  down  to  divert  himself  by 
giving  to  the  Public  the  portrait  of  all  the  rest.  Filled  with 
wrath  against  the  traitor  of  Rumford,  one  of  them  resolved  to 
write  to  the  printer  and  enquire  the  author's  name  ;  Samuel 
Johnson,  was  the  reply.  No  more  was  necessary ;  Samuel  John 
son  was  the  name  of  the  curate 3,  and  soon  did  each  begin  to  load 
him  with  reproaches  for  turning  his  friends  into  ridicule  in 
a  manner  so  cruel  and  unprovoked.  In  vain  did  the  guiltless 
curate  protest  his  innocence ;  one  was  sure  that  Aliger  meant 
Mr.  Twigg,  and  that  Cupidus  was  but  another  name  for  neigh 
bour  Baggs 4 :  till  the  poor  parson,  unable  to  contend  any 
longer,  rode  to  London,  and  brought  them  full  satisfaction  con 
cerning  the  writer,  who  from  his  own  knowledge  of  general 

articles  which  sold  wonderfully  cheap,  Sir  Henry  Irving  informs  me  that 

particularly  the    following— a    folio  he  paid  a  hundred  pounds  for  it. 

edition  of  Shakespeare,  the  second,  Lort,   the    antiquary,    sending   a 

with  a  large  number  of  notes,  MS.,  pamphlet  to  Bishop  Percy,  says : — 

in  the  margin,  Johnson's  own  hand-  '  You   will   observe  it,  in  Tom   Os- 

writing.     The  book  has  the  further  borne's  phrase,  paululum  spoliatum 

incidental  circumstances  enhancing  in  margined   Nichols's  Lit.  Hist.  vii. 

its  value,  that  it  had  been  the  pro-  458. 

perty  of  Theobald,  and  had  many  "  Life,  i.  215. 

notes  also  written  by  him.     The  title  a  These  characters  are  in  Nos.  74, 

and  part  of  another  leaf  were  wanting.  103,  182,  and  197. 

These  were  the  only  articles  on  the  3  A  curate  of  that  name  is  men- 

per  contra  side  ;  and  the  book,  thus  tioned  in  the  Life,  i.  135. 

extremely  curious,   sold  for  only  a  4  Aliger  is  in  No.  201,  and  Cupidus 

guinea  ! '  in  No.  73. 

VOL.  I.  X                                       manners, 


306 


Anecdotes. 


manners,  quickened  by  a  vigorous  and  warm  imagination,  had 
happily  delineated,  though  unknown  to  himself,  the  members  of 
the  Bowling-green  Club. 

Mr.  Murphy  likewise  used  to  tell  before  Dr.  Johnson,  of  the 
first  time  they  met,  and  the  occasion  of  their  meeting,  which  he 
related  thus :  That  being  in  those  days  engaged  in  a  periodical 
paper,  he  found  himself  at  a  friend's  house  out  of  town ;  and 
not  being  disposed  to  lose  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  business, 
wished  rather  to  content  his  bookseller  by  sending  some  un 
studied  essay  to  London  by  the  servant,  than  deny  himself  the 
company  of  his  acquaintance,  and  drive  away  to  his  chambers 
for  the  purpose  of  writing  something  more  correct.  He  there 
fore  took  up  a  French  Journal  Liter  air  e  that  lay  about  the 
room,  and  translating  something  he  liked  from  it,  sent  it  away 
without  further  examination.  Time  however  discovered  that  he 
had  translated  from  the  French  a  Rambler  of  Johnson's,  which 
had  been  but  a  month  before  taken  from  the  English  x  ;  and 
thinking  it  right  to  make  him  his  personal  excuses,  he  went 
next  day,  and  found  our  friend  all  covered  with  soot  like  a 
chimney-sweeper,  in  a  little  room,  with  an  intolerable  heat 
and  strange  smell,  as  if  he  had  been  acting  Lungs  in  the  Al- 
chymist,  making  cether 2.  '  Come,  come  (says  Dr.  Johnson), 


1  Life,  i.  356.  It  was  in  the 
Gray's  Inn  Journal  for  June  15, 
1754,  that  the  Rambler,  No.  190, 
appeared  in  its  retranslation.  John 
son's  opening  paragraph  is  as  fol 
lows  : — '  Among  the  emirs  and  visiers, 
the  sons  of  valour  and  of  wisdom, 
that  stand  at  the  corners  of  the 
Indian  throne,  to  assist  the  counsels 
or  conduct  the  wars  of  the  posterity 
of  Timur,  the  first  place  was  long 
held  by  Morad  the  son  of  Hanuth.' 
This  is  given  by  Murphy  : — '  Among 
the  Visiers  and  Ministers  who  figured 
round  the  Indian  throne,  and  sup 
ported  by  their  Prudence  and  Valour 
the  Lustre  and  Dignity  of  the  illus 
trious  Race  of  Timur,  Morad,  the 


son  of  Hanuth,  held  the  most  con 
spicuous  rank.' 

2  It  was  not  aether  but  elixir  that 
was  made.  ' Lungs  was  a  term  of  art 
for  the  under-operators  in  chemistry, 
whose  business  principally  was  to 
take  care  of  the  fire.  So  Cowley,  in 
his  sketch  of  a  philosophic  college, 
in  the  number  of  its  members 
reckons  two  lungs  or  chemical  ser 
vants  ;  and  afterwards,  assigning  their 
salaries,  "  To  each  of  the  lungs  twelve 
pounds."  '  Note  on  The  Alchemist, 
Ben  Jonson's  Works,  ed.  1756,  iii.  31. 
'As  to  alchymy  Johnson  was  not 
a  positive  unbeliever.'  Life,  ii.  376. 
'  Philosophy,  with  the  aid  of  experi 
ence,  has  at  length  banished  the 

dear 


Anecdotes.  307 


dear  Mur x,  the  story  is  black  enough  now ;  and  it  was  a  very 
happy  day  for  me  that  brought  you  first  to  my  house,  and  a 
very  happy  mistake  about  the  Ramblers.' 

Dr.  Johnson  was  always  exceeding  fond  of  chemistry  ;  and  we 
made  up  a  sort  of  laboratory  at  Streatham  one  summer,  and 
diverted  ourselves  with  drawing  essences  and  colouring  liquors  2. 
But  the  danger  Mr.  Thrale  found  his  friend  in  one  day  when  I 
was  driven  to  London,  and  he  had  got  the  children  and  servants 
round  him  to  see  some  experiments  performed,  put  an  end  to  all 
our  entertainment ;  so  well  was  the  master  of  the  house  per 
suaded,  that  his  short  sight  would  have  been  his  destruction 
in  a  moment,  by  bringing  him  close  to  a  fierce  and  violent 
flame.  Indeed  it  was  a  perpetual  miracle  that  he  did  not  set 
himself  on  fire  reading  a-bed,  as  was  his  constant  custom,  when 
exceedingly  unable  even  to  keep  clear  of  mischief  with  our  best 
help  ;  and  accordingly  the  fore-top  of  all  his  wigs  were  [sic] 
burned  by  the  candle  down  to  the  very  net-work.  Mr.  Thrale's 
valet-de-chambre,  for  that  reason,  kept  one  always  in  his  own 
hands,  with  which  he  met  him  at  the  parlour-door  when  the  bell 
had  called  him  down  to  dinner,  and  as  he  went  up  stairs  to 

study  of  alchymy.'   Gibbon's  Decline  sophy  became  a  general  study ;  and 

and  Fall,  ed.  1802,  ii.  138.  the  new  doctrine  of  electricity  grew 

1  '  Johnson  had  a  way  of  contract-  into  fashion .  .  .  The  art  of  chemistry 
ing  the    names  of    his   friends,   as  was   perfectly   understood   and    as- 
Beauclerk,  Beau  ;    Boswell,  Bozzy  ;  siduously  applied  to  the  purposes  of 
Langton,    Lanky  :    Murphy,    Mur  ;  sophistication.'   History  of  England, 
Sheridan,  Sherry.'     Life,  ii.  258.  ed.  1800,  v.  375.     (Johnson  defines 

2  He   wrote    to    Mrs.   Thrale   on  Sophistication ;  adulteration?) 

July  24,  1771: — '  Be  pleased  to  make  Watson,  at  his  chemical  lectures 

my  compliments  to  Mr.  Thrale,  and  at   Cambridge   (1766-9),    had   very 

desire  that   his  builders  will   leave  crowded  audiences  '  of  persons  of  all 

about  a  hundred  loose  bricks.    I  can  ages  and  degrees  in  the  University.' 

at  present  think  of  no  better  place  Life  of  Bishop  Watson,  i.  46,  53. 

for  chymistry  in  fair  weather  than  Gibbon,  after  the   publication   of 

the  pump-side  in  the  kitchen-garden.'  the  first  volume  of  his  History,  at- 

Letters,  i.   183.      For    his    love    of  tended   a  course    of   anatomy  and 

chemistry  see  Life,  i.  140,  436;    iii.  some  lessons   on   chemistry.     'The 

398 ;  iv.  237.    He  defines  chymist  as  anatomist    and    chemist,'    he    says, 

a  philosopher  by  fire.  'may  sometimes  track  me  in  their 

Smollett,  writing  of  the  reign  of  own  snow.'     Misc.  Works,  i.  229. 
George   II,  says  :—' Natural  philo- 

x  a                                          sleep 


308  Anecdotes. 


sleep  in  the  afternoon,  the  same  man  constantly  followed  him 
with  another. 

Future  experiments  in  chemistry  however  were  too  dangerous, 
and  Mr.  Thrale  insisted  that  we  should  do  no  more  towards 
finding  the  philosopher's  stone. 

Mr.  Johnson's  amusements  were  thus  reduced  to  the  pleasures 
of  conversation  merely I :  and  what  wonder  that  he  should  have 
an  avidity  for  the  sole  delight  he  was  able  to  enjoy  ?  No  man 
conversed  so  well  as  he  on  every  subject ;  no  man  so  acutely 
discerned  the  reason  of  every  fact,  the  motive  of  every  action,  the 
end  of  every  design.  He  was  indeed  often  pained  by  the  igno 
rance  or  causeless  wonder  of  those  who  knew  less  than  himself, 
though  he  seldom  drove  them  away  with  apparent  scorn,  unless 
he  thought  they  added  presumption  to  stupidity :  And  it  was 
impossible  not  to  laugh  at  the  patience  he  shewed,  when  a  Welch 
parson  of  mean  abilities,  though  a  good  heart,  struck  with  rever 
ence  at  the  sight  of  Dr.  Johnson,  whom  he  had  heard  of  as  the 
greatest  man  living,  could  not  find  any  words  to  answer  his 
inquiries  concerning  a  motto  round  somebody's  arms  which 
adorned  a  tomb-stone  in  Ruabon  church-yard.  If  I  remember 
right  the  words  were, 

Heb  Dw,  Heb  Dym, 

Dw  0'  diggon 2. 

And  though  of  no  very  difficult  construction,  the  gentleman 
seemed  wholly  confounded,  and  unable  to  explain  them ;  till 
Mr.  Johnson  having  picked  out  the  meaning  by  little  and  little, 
said  to  the  man,  '  Heb  is  a  preposition,  I  believe  Sir,  is  it  not  ?' 
My  countryman  recovering  some  spirits  upon  the  sudden  ques 
tion,  cried  out,  So  I  humbly  presume  Sir,  very  comically. 

Stories  of  humour  do  not  tell  well  in  books ;  and  what  made 
impression  on  the  friends  who  heard  a  jest,  will  seldom  much 
delight  the  distant  acquaintance  or  sullen  critic  who  reads  it. 
The  cork  model  of  Paris  is  not  more  despicable  as  a  resemblance 
of  a  great  city,  than  this  book,  levior  cortice 3,  as  a  specimen  of 

1  Post,  p,  324.  God,   without  all.     God  is   all-suf- 

*  '  The  Welsh  words,  which  are  the       ficient." '     Life,  v.  450,  n.  2. 
Myddelton  motto,  mean,  "  Without          3  Horace,  Cdes,  iii.  9.  22. 

Johnson's 


Anecdotes.  309 


Johnson's  character.  Yet  every  body  naturally  likes  to  gather 
little  specimens  of  the  rarities  found  in  a  great  country ;  and 
could  I  carry  home  from  Italy  square  pieces  of  all  the  curious 
marbles  which  are  the  just  glory  of  this  surprising  part  of  the 
world,  I  could  scarcely  contrive  perhaps  to  arrange  them  so 
meanly  as  not  to  gain  some  attention  from  the  respect  due  to 

the  places  they  once  belonged  to. Such  a  piece  of  motley 

NLosaiz-ymrk  will  these  Anecdotes  inevitably  make :  but  leTThe 
reader  remember  that  he  was  promised  nothing  better,  and  so  be 
as  contented  as  he  can. 

An  Irish  trader  at  our  house  one  day  heard  Dr.  Johnson  launch 
out  into  very  great  and  greatly  deserved  praises  of  Mr.  Edmund 
Burke  x  :  delighted  to  find  his  countryman  stood  so  high  in  the 
opinion  of  a  man  he  had  been  told  so  much  of,  Sir  (said  he),  give 
me  leave  to  tell  something  of  Mr.  Burke  now.  We  were  all 
silent,  and  the  honest  Hibernian  began  to  relate  how  Mr.  Burke 
went  to  see  the  collieries  in  a  distant  province ;  and  he  would  go 
down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  (in  a  bag),  and  he  would 
examine  every  thing:  he  went  in  a  bag  Sir,  and  ventured  his 
health  and  his  life  for  knowledge ;  but  he  took  care  of  his 
clothes,  that  they  should  not  be  spoiled,  for  he  went  down  in 
a  bag2.  'Well  Sir  (says  Mr.  Johnson  good-humouredly),  if  our 
friend  Mund  should  die  in  any  of  these  hazardous  exploits,  you 
and  I  would  write  his  life  and  panegyric  together ;  and  your 
chapter  of  it  should  be  entitled  thus  :  Burke  in  a  Bag! 

He  had  always  a  very  great  personal  regard  and  particular 
affection  for  Mr.  Edmund  Burke,  as  well  as  an  esteem  difficult 
for  me  to  repeat,  though  for  him  only  easy  to  express.  And 
when  at  the  end  of  the  year  1774  the  general  election  called  us 
all  different  ways,  and  broke  up  the  delightful  society  in  which 
we  had  spent  some  time  at  Beconsfield,  Dr.  Johnson  shook  the 
hospitable  master  of  the  house  kindly  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
'  Farewell  my  dear  Sir,  and  remember  that  I  wish  you  all  the 

1  Ante,  p.  290.  a  covering  for  his  clothes.    Sack  was 

2  The  bag  apparently  was  not  the       used    of   '  a  woman's    loose    robe.' 
vehicle  in  which  he  went  down,  but       Johnson's  Dictionary. 

success 


3io  Anecdotes. 


success  which  ought  to  be  wished  you,  which  can  possibly  be 
wished  you  indeed — by  an  honest  man  V 

I  must  here  take  leave  to  observe,  that  in  giving  little  memoirs 
of  Mr.  Johnson's  behaviour  and  conversation,  such  as  I  saw  and 
heard  it,  my  book  lies  under  manifest  disadvantages,  compared 
with  theirs,  who  having  seen  him  in  various  situations,  and  ob 
served  his  conduct  in  numberless  cases,  are  able  to  throw  stronger 
and  more  brilliant  lights  upon  his  character.  Virtues  are  like 
shrubs,  which  yield  their  sweets  in  different  manners  according 
to  the  circumstances  which  surround  them  :  and  while  generosity 
^of  soul  scatters  its  fragrance  like  the  honeysuckle,  and  delights 
the  senses  of  many  occasional  passengers,  who  feel  the  pleasure, 
and  half  wonder  how  the  breeze  has  blown  it  from  so  far,  the 
more  sullen  but  not  less  valuable  myrtle  waits  like  fortitude  to 
discover  its  excellence,  till  the  hand  arrives  that  will  crush  it,  and 
force  out  that  perfume  whose  durability  well  compensates  the 
difficulty  of  production. 

I  saw  Mr.  Johnson  in  none  but  a  tranquil  uniform  state2, 
passing  the  evening  of  his  life  among  friends,  who  loved,  honoured, 

k  and  admired  him  :  I  saw  none  of  the  things  he  did,  except  such 
acts  of  charity  as  have  been  often  mentioned  in  this  book,  and 

^such  writings  as  are  universally  known.  What  he  said  is  all 
I  can  relate  ;  and  from  what  he  said,  those  who  think  it  worth 
while  to  read  these  Anecdotes,  must  be  contented  to  gather  his 
character.  Mine  is  a  mere  candle-light  picture  of  his  latter  days, 
where  every  thing  falls  in  dark  shadow  except  the  face,  the  index 
of  the  mind  ;  but  even  that  is  seen  unfavourably,  and  with  a  pale 
ness  beyond  what  nature  gave  it. 

When  I  have  told  how  many  follies  Dr.  Johnson  knew  of 
others,  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  with  how  much  fidelity  he 

1  Johnson  and  the  Thrales  on  their  2  This    is    not    true.    After    Mr. 

return  from  a  trip  to  Wales  stayed  at  Thrale's  death  the  tranquillity  was 

Beconsfield.  Johnson,  as  his  Journal  more  and  more  disturbed.    Life,\v. 

shows,  had  arrived  there  on   Sep-  158,  n.  4;    159,72.3.     It  was  partly 

tember  24.    Life,  v.  460.    Parliament  disturbed   by   her  neglect   of   him. 

was  dissolved  on  September  30.  Letters,  ii.  300,  303. 

would 


Anecdotes.  311 


would  always  have  kept  them  concealed,  could  they  of  whom  he 
knew  the  absurdities  have  been  contented,  in  the  common  phrase, 
to  keep  their  own  counsel.  But  returning  home  one  day  from 
dining  at  the  chaplain's *  table,  he  told  me,  that  Dr.  Goldsmith 
had  given  a  very  comical  and  unnecessarily  exact  recital  there, 
of  his  own  feelings  when  his  play  was  hissed 2 ;  telling  the 
company  how  he  went  indeed  to  the  Literary  Club  at  night,  and 
chatted  gaily  among  his  friends,  as  if  nothing  had  happened 
amiss ;  that  to  impress  them  still  more  forcibly  with  an  idea  of 
his  magnanimity,  he  even  sung  his  favourite  song  about  an  old 
woman  tossed  in  a  blanket  seventeen  times  as  high  as  the  moon ; 
but  all  this  while  I  was  suffering  horrid  tortures  (said  he),  and 
verily  believe  that  if  I  had  put  a  bit  into  my  mouth  it  would 
have  strangled  me  on  the  spot,  I  was  so  excessively  ill  ;  but 
I  made  more  noise  than  usual  to  cover  all  that,  and  so  they 
never  perceived  my  not  eating,  nor  I  believe  at  all  imaged  to 
themselves  the  anguish  of  my  heart:  but  when  all  were  gone 
except  Johnson  here,  I  burst  out  a-crying,  and  even  swore  by 

that  I  would  never  write  again.     '  All  which,  Doctor  (says 

Mr.  Johnson,  amazed  at  his  odd  frankness),  I  thought  had  been 
a  secret  between  you  and  me !  and  I  am  sure  I  would  not  have 
said  any  thing  about  it  for  the  world.  Now  see  (repeated  he 
when  he  told  the  story)  what  a  figure  a  man  makes  who  thus 
unaccountably  chuses  to  be  the  frigid  narrator  of  his  own  dis 
grace  3.  //  volto  sciolto,  ed  i pensieri  stretti*,  was  a  proverb  made 

1  No  doubt  Percy,  who  was  chap-       could  not   come  till    he   had   been 
lain  to  George  III.  Letters,  i.  414,  n.       refitted    by    a    barber.'      Johnson's 

2  The  Good Natured Man.  Though        Works,  viii.  372. 

there  was  a  good  deal  of  hissing,  3  *  A  man  (said  Johnson)  should  be 

especially  at  the  '  uncommonly  low  careful  never  to  tell  tales  of  himself 

language '  of  the  scene  of  the  bailiffs,  to   his   own   disadvantage.      People 

yet  'it  was  played  ten  consecutive  may  be  amused  and  laugh  at   the 

nights.'     Forster's  Goldsmith,  ii.  98.  time,  but  they  will  be  remembered, 

*  It  [the  tragedy  of  Agamemnon]  and  brought  out  against  him  upon 

struggled  with  such  difficulty  through  some  subsequent   occasion.'      Life, 

the  first  night  that  Thomson,  coming  ii.  472. 

late  to  his  friends  with  whom  he  was  4  'At  Sienna  I  was  tabled  in  the 

to  sup,  excused  his  delay  by  telling  house   of  one  Alberto  Scipioni,  an 

them  how  the  sweat  of  his  distress  old   Roman   courtier   in    dangerous 

had  so  disordered  his  wig  that  he  times  ...  At  my  departure  towards 

on 


312 


Anecdotes. 


on  purpose  for  such  mortals,  to  keep  people,  if  possible,  from 
being  thus  the  heralds  of  their  own  shame  :  for  what  compassion 
can  they  gain  by  such  silly  narratives  ?  No  man  should  be 
expected  to  sympathise  with  the  sorrows  of  vanity.  If  then  you 
are  mortified  by  any  ill  usage,  whether  real  or  supposed,  keep  at 
least  the  account  of  such  mortifications  to  yourself,  and  forbear 
to  proclaim  how  meanly  you  are  thought  on  by  others,  unless 
you  desire  to  be  meanly  thought  of  by  all.' 


The  little  history  of  another  friend's  superfluous  ingenuity  will 
contribute  to  introduce  a  similar  remark.  He  had  a  daughter  of 
about  fourteen  years  old,  as  I  remember,  fat  and  clumsy :  and 
though  the  father  adored,  and  desired  others  to  adore  her,  yet 
being  aware  perhaps  that  she  was  not  what  the  French  call 
paitrie  des  graces  *,  and  thinking  I  suppose  that  the  old  maxim, 
of  beginning  to  laugh  at  yourself  first  where  you  have  any  thing 
ridiculous  about  you,  was  a  good  one2,  he  comically  enough 
called  his  girl  Trundle  when  he  spoke  of  her;  and  many  who 
bore  neither  of  them  any  ill-will  felt  disposed  to  laugh  at  the 
happiness  of  the  appellation 3.  *  See  now  (says  Dr.  Johnson) 
what  haste  people  are  in  to  be  hooted.  Nobody  ever  thought  of 
this  fellow  nor  of  his  daughter,  could  he  but  have  been  quiet 
himself,  and  forborne  to  call  the  eyes  of  the  world  on  his  dowdy 
and  her  deformity.  But  it  teaches  one  to  see  at  least,  that  if 


Rome  I  had  won  confidence  enough 
to  beg  his  advice  how  I  might  carry 
myself  securely  there,  without  offence 
of  others,  or  of  mine  own  conscience. 
"  Signer  Arrigo  mio,"  says  he,  "  i 
pensieri  stretti  ed  il  viso  sciolto," 
that  is,  "  your  thoughts  close  and 
your  countenance  loose,"  will  go 
safely  over  the  whole  world.'  Milton's 
Prose  Works,  ed.  1806,  vii.  88.  See 
Johnson's  Works,  vii.  72. 

'  The  height  of  abilities  is  to  have 
•volto  sciolto  and  pensieri  stretti; 
that  is  a  frank,  open  and  ingenuous 
exterior,  with  a  prudent  and  re 
served  interior.'  Chesterfield's  Let- 


ters  to  his  Son,  ii.  90. 

1  Petrie  des  graces. 

2  '  If  it  be  a  natural  impediment, 
as  a  red  nose,  squint  eyes,  crooked 
legs,  or  any  such  imperfection,  in 
firmity,  disgrace,  reproach,  the  best 
way  is  to  speak  of  it   first   thyself, 
and  so  thou  shalt  surely  take  away 
all  occasions  from  others  to  jest  at 
or  contemn,  that  they  may  perceive 
thee  to  be  careless  of  it.'     Burton's 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  ed.   1660, 

P-  359- 

3  Johnson  defines  Trundle  as  'any 
round  rolling  thing.' 

nobody 


Anecdotes.  313 


nobody  else  will  nickname  one's  children,  the  parents  will  e'en 
do  it  themselves.' 

All  this  held  true  in  matters  to  Mr.  Johnson  of  more  serious 
consequence.  When  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  had  painted  his 
portrait  looking  into  the  slit  of  his  pen,  and  holding  it  almost 
close  to  his  eye,  as  was  his  general  custom,  he  felt  displeased, 
and  told  me  '  he  would  not  be  known  by  posterity  for  his  defects 
only,  let  Sir  Joshua  do  his  worst  *.'  I  said  in  reply,  that  Reynolds 
had  no  such  difficulties  about  himself,  and  that  he  might  observe 
the  picture  which  hung  up  in  the  room  where  we  were  talking 2, 
represented  Sir  Joshua  holding  his  ear  in  his  hand  to  catch  the 
sound.  '  He  may  paint  himself  as  deaf  if  he  chuses  (replied 
Johnson) ;  but  I  will  not  be  blinking  Sam  V 

It  is  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  evincing  the  regularity  and  steadi 
ness  of  Mr.  Johnson's  mind  that  I  have  given  these  trifling 
memoirs,  to  show  that  his  soul  was  not  different  from  that  of 
another  person,  but,  as  it  was,  greater ;  and  to  give  those  who 
did  not  know  him  a  just  idea  of  his  acquiescence  in  what  we  call 
vulgar  prejudices,  and  of  his  extreme  distance  from  those  notions 
which  the  world  has  agreed,  I  know  not  very  well  why,  to  call 
romantic.  It  is  indeed  observable  in  his  preface  to  Shakespeare, 
that  while  other  critics  expatiate  on  the  creative  powers  and 
vivid  imagination  of  that  matchless  poet,  Dr.  Johnson  commends 
him  for  giving  so  just  a  representation  of  human  manners,  '  that 
from  his  scenes  a  hermit  might  estimate  the  value  of  society,  and 
a  confessor  predict  the  progress  of  the  passions  V  I  have  not 
the  book  with  me  here,  but  am  pretty  sure  that  such  is  his 
expression. 

1  Northcote  (Life  of  Reynolds,  ii.  was  hung  with  Reynolds's  portraits 
3)  and  Leslie  and  Taylor  (Life,  ii.  of  Mr.  Thrale's  friends.'      Life,  iv. 
143)  assign  this  anecdote  to  the  por-  158,  n.  I  ;  Letters,  i.  232,  n.  i;  post^ 
trait  of  Johnson  reading.    According  p.  342. 

to  Northcote,  Johnson  said  to  Sir  3  Post,  in  Miss  Reynolds's  Recol- 

Joshua  : — '  It  is  not  friendly  to  hand  lections. 

down  to  posterity  the  imperfections  4  '  This    therefore    is    the    praise 

of  any  man.'  of  Shakespeare,  that  his  drama  is 

2  The  Library  at  Streatham  which  the   mirrour  of  life  ;   that   he   who 

The 


314 


Anecdotes. 


The  general  and  constant  advice  he  gave  too,  when  consulted 
about  the  choice  of  a  wife,  a  profession,  or  whatever  influences 
a  man's  particular  and  immediate  happiness,  was  always  to  reject 
no  positive  good  from  fears  of  its  contrary  consequences.  '  Do 
not  (said  he)  forbear  to  marry  a  beautiful  woman  if  you  can  find 
such,  out  of  a  fancy  that  she  will  be  less  constant  than  an  ugly 
one ;  or  condemn  yourself  to  the  society  of  coarseness  and 
vulgarity  for  fear  of  the  expences  or  other  dangers  of  elegance 
and  personal  charms,  which  have  been  always  acknowledged  as 
a  positive  good,  and  for  the  want  of  which  there  should  be  always 
given  some  weighty  compensation.  I  have  however  (continued 
Mr.  Johnson)  seen  some  prudent  fellows  who  forbore  to  connect 
themselves  with  beauty  lest  coquetry  should  be  near,  and  with 
wit1  or  birth  lest  insolence  should  lurk  behind  them,  till  they 
have  been  forced  by  their  discretion  to  linger  life  away  in  taste 
less  stupidity,  and  chuse  to  count  the  moments  by  remembrance 
of  pain  instead  of  enjoyment  of  pleasure.' 

When  professions  were  talked  of,  '  Scorn  (said  Mr.  Johnson) 
to  put  your  behaviour  under  the  dominion  of  canters 2 ;  never 
think  it  clever  to  call  physic  a  mean  study,  or  law  a  dry  one ; 
or  ask  a  baby  of  seven  years  old  which  way  his  genius  leads  him, 
when  we  all  know  that  a  boy  of  seven  years  old  has  no  genius 3 
for  any  thing  except  a  peg-top  and  an  apple-pye ;  but  fix  on 
some  business  where  much  money  may  be  got  and  little  virtue 
risqued :  follow  that  business  steadily,  and  do  not  live  as  Roger 


has  mazed  his  imagination  in  fol 
lowing  the  phantoms  which  other 
writers  raise  up  before  him  may  here 
be  cured  of  his  delirious  extasies  by 
reading  human  sentiments  in  human 
language ;  by  scenes  from  which  a 
hermit  may  estimate  the  transactions 
of  the  world,  and  a  confessor  predict 
the  progress  of  the  passions.'  Shake 
speare's  Works,  ed.  1765,  Preface, 
p.  xii. 

1  '  Some  cunning  men  choose  fools 
for  their  wives,  thinking  to  manage 
them,  but  they  always  fail.  .  .  .  De 
pend  upon  it  no  woman  is  the  worse 


for  sense  and  knowledge.'    Life,  v. 
226. 

2  Canter  Johnson  here  uses  in  a 
different  sense  from  that  given  in  his 
Dictionary — '  a  term  of  reproach  for 
hypocrites,  who  talk  formally  of  re 
ligion  without  obeying  it.'     He  talks 
of  *  the  cant  of  an  author,'  and  '  the 
cant  of  sensibility.'    Works,  viii.  238, 
248.     For  other  instances  of  cant 
see  Life,  iv.  221,  n.  I. 

3  Ib.  ii.  437,  n.  2.     '  Genius,'  said 
Johnson,  '  is  in  fact  knowing  the  use 
of  tools.'     Memoirs  of  Dr.  Burney, 
iii.  5. 

Ascham 


Anecdotes.  315 


Ascham  says  the  wits  do,  Men  know  not  how  ;  and  at  last  die 
obscurely,  men  mark  not  where1-' 

Dr.  Johnson  had  indeed  a  veneration  for  the  voice  of  mankind 
beyond  what  most  people  will  own ;  and  as  he  liberally  confessed 
that  all  his  own  disappointments  proceeded  from  himself,  he 
hated  to  hear  others  complain  of  general  injustice 2.  I  remember 
when  lamentation  was  made  of  the  neglect  shewed  to  Jeremiah 
Markland 3,  a  great  philologist  as  some  one  ventured  to  call 
him — '  He  is  a  scholar  undoubtedly  Sir  (replied  Dr.  Johnson), 
but  remember  that  he  would  run  from  the  world,  and  that  it  is 
not  the  world's  business  to  run  after  him.  I  hate  a  fellow  whom 
pride,  or  cowardice,  or  laziness  drives  into  a  corner,  and  [who] 
does  nothing  when  he  is  there  but  sit  and  growl ;  let  him  come 
out  as  I  do,  and  bark4.  The  world  (added  he)  is  chiefly  unjust 
and  ungenerous  in  this,  that  all  are  ready  to  encourage  a  man 
who  once  talks  of  leaving  it,  and  few  things  do  really  provoke 
me  more,  than  to  hear  people  prate  of  retirement,  when  they 
have  neither  skill  to  discern  their  own  motives,  or  penetration  to 
estimate  the  consequences :  but  while  a  fellow  is  active  to  gain 

1  Ascham  is  not  writing  of  'the  when.'  Ascham's  Works,  ed.  1864, 
wits '  in  the  eighteenth  century  sense  iii.  99. 
of  the  term,  but  of  'quick  wits,'  2  Ltfe,\v.  172. 
those  who  at  school  '  take  their  les-  3  Jb.  iv.  161 ;  Letters,  ii.  276. 
son  readily;'  who  'commonly  be  4  Markland  is  perhaps  alluded  to 
apt  to  take,  unapt  to  keep ;  soon  in  the  following  passage  : — *  All  the 
hot,  and  desirous  of  this  and  that,  complaints  which  are  made  of  the 
as  cold,  and  soon  weary  of  the  same  world  are  unjust.  I  never  knew  a 
again  ; '  who  are  '  ever  quick,  hasty,  man  of  merit  neglected  :  it  was 
rash,  heady  and  brain-sick.'  Of  generally  by  his  own  fault  that  he 
them  he  says  :— '  In  youth  also  they  failed  of  success.  A  man  may  hide 
be  ready  scoffers,  privy  mockers,  and  his  head  in  a  hole  :  he  may  go  into 
ever  over-light  and  merry  ;  in  age,  the  country,  and  publish  a  book  now 
soon  testy,  very  waspish  and  always  and  then,  which  nobody  reads,  and 
over-miserable.  And  yet  few  of  then  complain  he  is  neglected.  There 
them  come  to  any  great  age  by  is  no  reason  why  any  person  should 
reason  of  their  misordered  life  when  exert  himself  for  a  man  who  has 
they  were  young ;  but  a  great  deal  written  a  good  book :  he  has  not 
fewer  of  them  come  to  show  any  written  it  for  any  individual.  I  may 
great  countenance,  or  bear  any  great  as  well  make  a  present  to  the  post- 
authority  abroad  in  the  world,  but  man  who  brings  me  a  letter.'  Life, 
either  live  obscurely,  men  know  not  iv.  172. 
how,  or  die  obscurely,  men  mark  not 

either 


3i6 


Anecdotes. 


either  power  or  wealth  (continued  he),  every  body  produces  some 
hindrance  to  his  advancement,  some  sage  remark,  or  some  un 
favourable  prediction ;  but  let  him  once  say  slightly,  I  have  had 
enough  of  this  troublesome  bustling  world,  'tis  time  to  leave  it 
now :  Ah,  dear  Sir !  cries  the  first  old  acquaintance  he  meets, 
I  am  glad  to  find  you  in  this  happy  disposition :  yes,  dear  friend  ! 
do  retire  and  think  of  nothing  but  your  own  ease :  there's 
Mr.  William  will  find  it  a  pleasure  to  settle  all  your  accounts  and 
relieve  you  from  the  fatigue  ;  Miss  Dolly  makes  the  charmingest 
chicken  broth  in  the  world,  and  the  cheesecakes  we  eat  of  her's 
once,  how  good  they  were  :  I  will  be  coming  every  two  or  three 
days  myself  to  chat  with  you  in  a  quiet  way;  so  snug !  and  tell 
you  how  matters  go  upon  'Change,  or  in  the  House,  or  according 
to  the  blockhead's  first  pursuits,  whether  lucrative  or  politic, 
which  thus  he  leaves  ;  and  lays  himself  down  a  voluntary  prey  to 
his  own  sensuality  and  sloth,  while  the  ambition  and  avarice  of 
the  nephews  and  nieces,  with  their  rascally  adherents,  and  co 
adjutors,  reap  the  advantage,  while  they  fatten  their  fool  V 

As  the  votaries  of  retirement  had  little  of  Mr.  Johnson's  ap 
plause,  unless  that  he  knew  that  the  motives  were  merely  devo 
tional,  and  unless  he  was  convinced  that  their  rituals  were 
accompanied  by  a  mortified  state  of  the  body,  the  sole  proof  of 
their  sincerity  which  he  would  admit,  as  a  compensation  for  such 
fatigue  as  a  worldly  life  of  care  and  activity  requires 2 ;  so  of  the 
various  states  and  conditions  of  humanity,  he  despised  none  more 
I  think  than  the  man  who  marries  for  a  maintenance :  and  of 
a  friend  who  made  his  alliance  on  no  higher  principles,  he  said 
once,  '  Now  has  that  fellow  (it  was  a  nobleman  of  whom  we  were 
speaking)  at  length  obtained  a  certainty  of  three  meals  a  day, 
and  for  that  certainty,  like  his  brother  dog  in  the  fable,  he  will 
get  his  neck  galled  for  life  with  a  collar 3.' 


1  '  Every  man  has  those  about  him 
who  wish  to  soothe  him  into  inactivity 
and  delitescence,  nor  is  there  any 
semblance  of  kindness  more  vigor 
ously  to  be  repelled  than  that  which 
voluntarily  offers  a  vicarious  per 
formance  of  the  tasks  of  life,  and 


conspires  with  the  natural  love  of 
ease  against  diligence  and  perseve 
rance.'  Letters,  i.  401.  See  Life,  ii. 
337  ;  iii.  176,  n.  i. 

2  Ib.  v.  62  ;  ante,  p.  209. 

3  This  nobleman  was  Lord  Sandys. 
Hay  ward's  Piozzi,  i.  296.   '  He  mar- 
That 


Anecdotes.  317 


That  poverty  was  an  evil  to  be  avoided  by  all  honest  means 
however,  no  man  was  more  ready  to  avow :  concealed  poverty 
particularly,  which  he  said  was  the  general  corrosive  that  de 
stroyed  the  peace  of  almost  every  family  ;  to  which  no  evening 
perhaps  ever  returned  without  some  new  project  for  hiding  the 
sorrows  and  dangers  of  the  next  day x.  '  Want  of  money  (says 
Dr.  Johnson)  is  sometimes  concealed  under  pretended  avarice, 
and  sly  hints  of  aversion  to  part  with  it  ;  sometimes  under  stormy 
anger,  and  affectation  of  boundless  rage ;  but  oftener  still  under 
a  shew  of  thoughtless  extravagance  and  gay  neglect — while  to 
a  penetrating  eye,  none  of  these  wretched  veils  suffice  to  keep 
the  cruel  truth  from  being  seen.  Poverty  is  hie  et  ubique  (says 
he),  and  if  you  do  shut  the  jade  out  of  the  door,  she  will  always 
contrive  in  some  manner  to  poke  her  pale  lean  face  in  at  the 
window.' 

I  have  mentioned  before,  that  old  age  had  very  little  of 
Mr.  Johnson's  reverence  :  *  a  man  commonly  grew  wickeder  as 
he  grew  older  (he  said),  at  least  he  but  changed  the  vices  of 
youth ;  headstrong  passion  and  wild  temerity,  for  treacherous 
caution,  and  desire  to  circumvent.  I  am  always  (said  he)  on  the 
young  people's  side,  when  there  is  a  dispute  between  them  and 
the  old  ones :  for  you  have  at  least  a  chance  for  virtue  till  age 
has  withered  its  very  root2.'  While  we  were  talking,  my 
mother's  spaniel,  whom  he  never  loved,  stole  our  toast  and 
butter;  Fye  Belle!  said  I,  you  used  to  be  upon  honour:  'Yes 

ried  the  widow  of  W.  P.  King,  Esq.,  so  much  inability  to  resist  evil,  both 

who  left  his  whole  estate  to  her,  by  natural  and  moral,  that  it  is  by  all 

which  means   she  brought  a  large  virtuous  means  to  be  avoided.'  Id.  p. 

fortune    to    her    second    husband.'  152.   ' Resolve  not  to  be  poor:  what- 

Burke's   Peerage.     Johnson   visited  ever  you  have,  spend  less.    Poverty 

him  with  the  Thrales  in  1 774.    Life,  is  a  great  enemy  to  human  happiness ; 

v.  455.  it  certainly  destroys  liberty,  and  it 

1  '  Poverty,  my  dear  friend,  is  so  makes   some  virtues   impracticable, 

great  an  evil,  and  pregnant  with  so  and  others  extremely  difficult.'    Id. 

much    temptation,    and     so    much  p.  157. 

misery,  that  I  cannot  but  earnestly          3  '  I  believe  men  may  be  generally 

enjoin    you    to    avoid    it.'      Ib.   iv.  observed  to  grow  less  tender  as  they 

149.     *  Poverty  takes  away  so  many  advance  in  age.'    Rambler,  No.  78. 
means  of  doing  good,  and  produces 

Madam 


318 


Anecdotes. 


Madam  (replies  Johnson),  but  Belle  grows  old'  His  reason  for 
hating  the  dog  was,  '  because  she  was  a  professed  favourite  (he 
said),  and  because  her  Lady  ordered  her  from  time  to  time  to  be 
washed  and  combed :  a  foolish  trick  (said  he)  and  an  assumption 
of  superiority  that  every  one's  nature  revolts  at  ;  so  because  one 
must  not  wish  ill  to  the  Lady  in  such  cases  (continued  he),  one 
curses  the  cur.'  The  truth  is,  Belle  was  not  well  behaved,  and 
being  a  large  spaniel,  was  troublesome  enough  at  dinner  with 
frequent  solicitations  to  be  fed.  '  This  animal  (said  Dr.  Johnson 
one  day)  would  have  been  of  extraordinary  merit  and  value  in 
the  state  of  Lycurgus ;  for  she  condemns  one  to  the  exertion  of 
perpetual  vigilance.' 

He  had  indeed  that  strong  aversion  felt  by  all  the  lower  ranks 
of  people  towards  four-footed  companions  very  completely  %  not 
withstanding  he  had  for  many  years  a  cat  which  he  called 
Hodge,  that  kept  always  in  his  room  at  Fleet-street ;  but  so 
exact  was  he  not  to  offend  the  human  species  by  superfluous 
attention  to  brutes,  that  when  the  creature  was  grown  sick  and 
old,  and  could  eat  nothing  but  oysters,  Mr.  Johnson  always  went 
out  himself  to  buy  Hodge's  dinner,  that  Francis  the  Black's 
delicacy  might  not  be  hurt,  at  seeing  himself  employed  for  the 
convenience  of  a  quadruped 2. 

No  one  was  indeed  so  attentive  not  to  offend  in  all  such  sort  of 
things  as  Dr.  Johnson  ;  nor  so  careful  to  maintain  the  ceremonies 
of  life  :  and  though  he  told  Mr.  Thrale  once,  that  he  had  never 
sought  to  please  till  past  thirty  years  old,  considering  the  matter 

\ as  hopeless,  he  had  been  always  studious  not  to  make  enemies, 

by  apparent  preference  of  himself3.  It  happened  very  comically, 
that  the  moment  this  curious  conversation  past,  of  which  I  was 
a  silent  auditress,  was  in  the  coach,  in  some  distant  province, 
either  Shropshire  or  Derbyshire  I  believe4;  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  over,  Mr.  Johnson  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  little  book  and 


1  If  this  was  once  true  how  great 
a  change  came  over  'the  lower  ranks ' 
in  the  next  hundred  years. 

a  Life,  iv.  197. 


3  Ante,  p.  169. 

4  They  passed  through  these  coun 
ties  on  their  tour  to  Wales  in  1774. 
Life,  v.  427-460. 

read, 


Anecdotes.  319 


read,  while  a  gentleman  of  no  small  distinction  for  his  birth  and 
elegance,  suddenly  rode  up  to  the  carriage,  and  paying  us  all  his 
proper  compliments,  was  desirous  not  to  neglect  Dr.  Johnson  ; 
but  observing  that  he  did  not  see  him,  tapt  him  gently  on  the 
shoulder — "Pis  Mr.  Ch — 1m — ley,  says  my  husband; — 'Well,  Sir  ! 
and  what  if  it  is  Mr.  Ch — 1m — ley  ! '  says  the  other  sternly, 
just  lifting  his  eyes  a  moment  from  his  book,  and  returning  to  it 
again  with  renewed  avidity  x. 

He  had  sometimes  fits  of  reading  very  violent ;  and  when  he 
was  in  earnest  about  getting  through  some  particular  pages, 
for  I  have  heard  him  say  he  never  read  but  one  book,  which  he 
did  not  consider  as  obligatory,  through  in  his  whole  life 2  (and 
Lady  Mary  Wortley's  Letters 3  was  the  book) ;  he  would  be  quite 
lost  to  company,  and  withdraw  all  his  attention  to  what  he  was 
reading,  without  the  smallest  knowledge  or  care  about  the  noise 
made  round  him.  His  deafness  made  such  conduct  less  odd 
and  less  difficult  to  him  than  it  would  have  been  to  another 
man  ;  but  his  advising  others  to  take  the  same  method,  and  pull 
a  little  book  out  when  they  were  not  entertained  with  what  was 
going  forward  in  society,  seemed  more  likely  to  advance  the 
growth  of  science  than  of  polished  manners,  for  which  he  always 
pretended  extreme  veneration  4. 

'.For  BoswelPs  comment  on  this  the  Memoirs  of  Captain  Carleton  sent 

story  see  Life,  iv.  345.  to  him  when  '  he  was  going  to  bed, 

2  *  Mr.  Elphinston  talked  of  a  new  he  sat  up  till  he  had  read  it  through.' 

book  that  was  much  admired,  and  Zz/<?,  iv.  334.  A  year  earlier  he  said : — 

asked  Dr.  Johnson  if  he  had  read  it.  '  I    have   this  year   read    all   Virgil 

JOHNSON.  "I  have  looked  into  it."  through.   I  readabookofthey£#£/V/ 

"  What  (said  Elphinston,)  have  you  every  night,  so  it  was  done  in  twelve 

not   read    it    through  ?"      Johnson,  nights,  and  I  had  great  delight  in  it.' 

offended  at  being  thus  pressed,  and  Ib.  iv.  218. 
so  obliged  to  own  his  cursory  mode  3  First  published  in  1763. 

of  reading,   answered   tartly,  "No,  4 'Before  dinner  Dr.  Johnson  seized 

Sir,  do  you  read  books  throitght"'  upon  Mr.  Charles  Sheridan's  Account 

Ib.  ii.  226.  of  the  late  Revolution  in  Sweden, 

He  read  Amelia  through  without  and  seemed  to  read  it  ravenously,  as 

stopping  (Ib.  iii.  43),  and  rejoiced  at  if  he  devoured  it,  which  was  to  all 

finding  that  Clarissa  was  not  to  be  appearance  his  method  of  studying.' 

curtailed.     Letters,    i.    21.     A    few  Ib.  iii.  284. 
months  before  his  death,  having  had 

Mr. 


320 


Anecdotes. 


Mr.  Johnson  indeed  always  measured  other  people's  notions  of 
every  thing  by  his  own,  and  nothing  could  persuade  him  to 
believe,  that  the  books  which  he  disliked  were  agreeable  to 
thousands,  or  that  air  and  exercise  which  he  despised  were  bene 
ficial  to  the  health  of  other  mortals  *.  When  poor  Smart,  so 
well  known  for  his  wit  and  misfortunes,  was  first  obliged  to  be 
put  in  private  lodgings 2,  a  common  friend  of  both  lamented  in 
tender  terms  the  necessity  which  had  torn  so  pleasing  a  com 
panion  from  their  acquaintance — '  A  madman  must  be  confined, 
Sir 3,  (replies  Dr.  Johnson  ;)  but,  says  the  other,  I  am  now  appre 
hensive  for  his  general  health,  he  will  lose  the  benefit  of  exercise. 
*  Exercise  ! '  (returns  the  Doctor)  I  never  heard  that  he  used  any  : 
he  might,  for  aught  I  know,  walk  to  the  alehouse  ;  but  I  believe 
he  was  always  carried  home  again.' 

It  was  however  unlucky  for  those  who  delighted  to  echo 
Johnson's  sentiments,  that  he  would  not  endure  from  them 
to-day  what  perhaps  he  had  yesterday,  by  his  own  manner  of 
treating  the  subject,  made  them  fond  of  repeating ;  and  I  fancy 


1  Ante,  p.  288. 

a  '  On  the  first  attack  of  lunacy  it 
is  usual  to  confine  the  unhappy 
objects  in  private  custody  under  the 
direction  of  their  nearest  friends  and 
relations  ;  but  when  the  disorder  is 
grown  permanent,  and  the  circum 
stances  of  the  party  will  bear  such 
additional  expense,  it  is  thought  pro 
per  to  apply  to  the  royal  authority 
to  warrant  a  lasting  confinement.' 
Blackstone's  Commentaries,  ed.  1775, 
i.  305.  '  By  the  vagrant  acts  a  me 
thod  is  chalked  out  for  imprisoning, 
chaining  and  sending  them  to  their 
proper  homes.'  Ib.  iv.  25. 

3  Johnson  said  of  his  confine 
ment  : — '  I  did  not  think  he  ought  to 
be  shut  up.  His  infirmities  were 
not  noxious  to  society.  He  insisted 
on  people  praying  with  him  ;  and 
I'd  as  lief  pray  with  Kit  Smart  as 
any  one  else.  Another  charge  was, 


that  he  did  not  love  clean  linen  ;  and 
I  have  no  passion  for  it.'  Life,  i.  397. 

One  of  Kit  Smart's  infirmities  was 
like  that  of  Mrs.  Quickly's  man. 
'  His  worst  fault  is  that  he  is  given 
to  prayer ;  he  is  something  peevish 
that  way;  but  nobody  but  has  his 
fault ;  but  let  that  pass.'  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  i.  sc.  4. 

Smart  died  in  the  King's  Bench 
Prison  in  1770.  Miss  Burney  says 
that  not  long  before  his  death  he 
wrote  to  her  father  to  ask  his  as 
sistance  for  a  fellow-sufferer,  adding 
'that  he  had  himself  assisted  him 
according  to  his  willing  poverty.'  In 
another  letter  to  Dr.  Burney,  who 
had  raised  a  fund  for  his  relief,  he 
wrote  : — '  I  bless  God  for  your  good 
nature,  which  please  take  as  a  re 
ceipt.'  Early  Diary  of  F.  Burney, 
i.  127. 

Mr. 


Anecdotes.  321 


Mr.  B has  not  forgotten,  that  though  his  friend  one  evening 

in  a  gay  humour  talked  in  praise  of  wine  as  one  of  the  blessings 
permitted  by  heaven,  when  used  with  moderation,  to  lighten  the 
load  of  life,  and  give  men  strength  to  endure  it ;  yet,  when  in 
consequence  of  such  talk  he  thought  fit  to  make  a  Baccha 
nalian  discourse  in  its  favour,  Mr.  Johnson  contradicted  him 
somewhat  roughly  as  I  remember  ;  and  when  to  assure  himself 
of  conquest  he  added  these  words,  You  must  allow  me,  Sir,  at 
least  that  it  produces  truth;  in  vino  veritas^  you  know,  Sir — 
'  That  (replied  Mr.  Johnson)  would  be  useless  to  a  man  who 
knew  he  was  not  a  liar  when  he  was  sober  V 

When  one  talks  of  giving  and  taking  the  lie  familiarly,  it  is 
impossible  to  forbear  recollecting  the  transactions  between  the 
editor  of  Ossian  and  the  author  of  the  Journey  to  the  Hebrides. 
It  was  most  observable  to  me  however,  that  Mr.  Johnson  never 
bore  his  antagonist  the  slightest  degree  of  ill-will.  He  always 
kept  those  quarrels  which  belonged  to  him  as  a  writer,  separate 
from  those  which  he  had  to  do  with  as  a  man ;  but  I  never  did 
hear  him  say  in  private  one  malicious  word  of  a  public  enemy ; 
and  of  Mr.  Macpherson  I  once  heard  him  speak  respectfully2, 
though  his  reply  to  the  friend  who  asked  him  if  any  man  living 
could  have  written  such  a  book,  is  well  known,  and  has  been 
often  repeated  :  '  Yes,  Sir ;  many  men,  many  women,  and  many 
children  V 

I  enquired  of  him  myself  if  this  story  was  authentic,  and  he 
said  it  was.  I  made  the  same  enquiry  concerning  his  account  of 
the  state  of  literature  in  Scotland,  which  was  repeated  up  and 
down  at  one  time  by  every  body — '  How  knowledge  was  divided 

1  Bos  well,  after  relating  the  genu-  has  represented  it  as  a  personality, 

ine    anecdote,  adds   in    a    note:—  and  the  true  point  has  escaped  her.' 

'Mrs.  Piozzi,  in  her  Anecdotes,  has  Life,  ii.  188. 

given  an  erroneous  account  of  this  2  He  had  written  to  him : — '  I  will 

incident,  as  of  many  others.      She  not   desist    from   detecting  what    I 

pretends  to  relate  it  from  recollec-  think  a  cheat  from  any  fear  of  the 

tion,  as  if  she  herself  had  been  pre-  menaces  of  a  ruffian.'    Ib.  ii.   297, 

sent ;   when  the  fact  is  that  it  was  n.  2. 

communicated  to  her  by  me.     She  3  Ib.  i.  396. 

VOL.  I.                                      Y  among 


322  Anecdotes. 


among  the  Scots,  like  bread  in  a  besieged  town,  to  every  man 
a  mouthful,  to  no  man  a  bellyful  V  This  story  he  likewise 
acknowledged,  and  said  besides,  '  that  some  officious  friend  had 
carried  it  to  Lord  Bute,  who  only  answered — '  Well,  well !  never 
mind  what  he  says — he  will  have  the  pension  all  one.' 

Another  famous  reply  to  a  Scotsman  who  commended  the 
beauty  and  dignity  of  Glasgow,  till  Mr.  Johnson  stopped  him  by 
observing,  '  that  he  probably  had  never  yet  seen  Brentford  Y  was 
one  of  the  jokes  he  owned :  and  said  himself,  '  that  when 
a  gentleman  of  that  country  once  mentioned  the  lovely  prospects 
common  in  his  nation,  he  could  not  help  telling  him,  that  the 
view  of  the  London  road  was  the  prospect  in  which  every 
Scotsman  most  naturally  and  most  rationally  delighted  V 

Mrs.  Brook  received  an  answer  not  unlike  this,  when  expa 
tiating  on  the  accumulation  of  sublime  and  beautiful  objects, 
which  form  the  fine  prospect  UP  the  river  St.  Lawrence  in  North 
America ;  *  Come  Madam  (says  Dr.  Johnson),  confess  that 
nothing  ever  equalled  your  pleasure  in  seeing  that  sight  reversed ; 
and  finding  yourself  looking  at  the  happy  prospect  DOWN  the 
river  St.  Lawrence4.'  The  truth  is,  he  hated  to  hear  about 

1  '  Their  learning  is  like  bread  in       went  soon  after  their  marriage,  about 
a  besieged  town  :    every  man  gets       1756.    Diet.  Nat.  Biog. 

a  little,  but  no  man  gets  a  full  meal.'  '  The  evening  before  her  departure 

Life,  ii.  363.  to  Canada  some  friends  met  at  her 

2  '  I  once  reminded  him  that  when  apartments    to  take   their  farewell, 
Dr.  Adam  Smith  was  expatiating  on  Miss  Hannah  More,  Miss  Seward, 
the  beauty  of  Glasgow,  he  had  cut  Mr.    Keate,   Dr.   Johnson  and   Mr. 
him    short   by   saying,    "  Pray,   Sir,  Boswell  were    among    her   visitors. 
have  you  ever  seen  Brentford  ? "  and  As  Dr.  Johnson  was  obliged  to  leave 
I  took  the  liberty  to  add,  "  My  dear  the  company  early  he  rose,  and  wish- 
Sir,  surely  that  was  shocking"  "Why  ing  her  health  and  happiness  went 
then,  Sir  (he  replied),  you  have  never  seemingly  away.     In  a  few  minutes 
seen   Brentford."'    Ib.  iv.   186;    v.  a  servant  came  to  acquaint  her  that 
369.  a  gentleman  in  the  parlour  wished 

3  For  the  correct  version  of  this  to  speak  with  her.     She  accordingly 
story  see  ib.  i.  425.  went  down  stairs,  where  she  found 

4  Frances   Brooke.    Life,\\\.   259,  the  Doctor,  who  said  to  her, "  Madam, 
n.    I.       Her    husband,    Rev.    John  I   sent  for  you  down   stairs   that  I 
Brooke,  D.D.,  was  chaplain   to  the  might   kiss   you,   which    I    did   not 
garrison    at   Quebec,   whither    they  choose  to  do  before  so  much  com- 

prospects 


Anecdotes.  323 


prospects  and  views,  and  laying  out  ground  and  taste  in  garden 
ing  x :  '  That  was  the  best  garden  (he  said)  which  produced  most 
roots  and  fruits ;  and  that  water  was  most  to  be  prized  which 
contained  most  fish.'  He  used  to  laugh  at  Shenstone  most 
unmercifully  for  not  caring  whether  there  was  any  thing  good  to 
eat  in  the  streams  he  was  so  fond  of,  *  as  if  (says  Johnson)  one 
could  fill  one's  belly  with  hearing  soft  murmurs,  or  looking  at 
rough  cascades 2 ! ' 

He  loved  the  sight  of  fine  forest  trees  however,  and  detested 
Brighthelmstone  Downs,  'because  it  was  a  country  so  truly 
desolate  (he  said),  that  if  one  had  a  mind  to  hang  one's  self 
for  desperation  at  being  obliged  to  live  there,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  a  tree  on  which  to  fasten  the  rope.'  Walking  in 
a  wood  when  it  rained,  was,  I  think,  the  only  rural  image  he 
pleased  his  fancy  with 3 ;  'for  (says  he)  after  one  has  gathered 
the  apples  in  an  orchard,  one  wishes  them  well  baked,  and 
removed  to  a  London  eating-house  for  enjoyment.' 

With  such  notions,  who  can  wonder  he  passed  his  time  uncom 
fortably  enough  with  us,  whom  he  often  complained  of  for  living 
so  much  in  the  country  ;  '  feeding  the  chickens  (as  he  said  I  did) 
till  I  starved  my  own  understanding.  Get  however  (said  he) 
a  book  about  gardening,  and  study  it  hard,  since  you  will  pass 
your  life  with  birds  and  flowers,  and  learn  to  raise  the  largest 

pany." '      European  Magazine,  xv.  '  a  layer-out  of  land '  Johnson  con- 

loo.  tinues  :— '  Perhaps  a  surly  and  a  sul- 

If  there  is  any  truth  in  this  story  len  speculator  may  think  such  per- 

it  is  wrong  in  its  particulars,  for  at  formances  rather  the  sport  than  the 

this  time  Boswell  and  Hannah  More  business  of  human  reason.'     Works, 

did  not  know  Johnson.  viii.   409.      '  Nothing    raised   Shen- 

1  *  I  have  a  notion,'  writes  Bos-  stone's  indignation  more  than  to  ask 
well,  '  that  he  at  no  time  has  had  if  there  were  any  fishes  in  his  water.' 
much  taste  for  rural  beauties.   I  have  Ib.  p.  410. 

myself  very  little.'    Ltfe,\.  112.   See          3  When  he  was  kept  in  town  by 

ante,  p.  215.  his  Lives  of  the  Poets  he  wrote  to 

2  '  We  talked  of  Shenstone.     Dr.  Mr.  Thrale  :— '  I  hope  to  see  stand- 
Johnson  said  he  was  a  good  layer-  ing  corn  in  some  part  of  the  earth 
out  of  land,  but  would  not  allow  him  this  summer,  but  I  shall  hardly  smell 
to  approach  excellence  as  a  poet.'  hay  or  suck  clover-flowers.'    Letters, 
Life,  v.  267.    After  describing  him  as  ii.  163. 

Y  2,  turnips, 


324  Anecdotes. 


turnips,  and  to  breed  the  biggest  fowls.'  It  was  vain  to  assure 
him  that  the  goodness  of  such  dishes  did  not  depend  upon  their 
size  ;  he  laughed  at  the  people  who  covered  their  canals  x  with 
foreign  fowls,  '  when  (says  he)  our  own  geese  and  ganders  are 
twice  as  large  :  if  we  fetched  better  animals  from  distant  nations, 
there  might  be  some  sense  in  the  preference  ;  but  to  get  cows 
from  Alderney,  or  water-fowl  from  China,  only  to  see  nature 
degenerating  round  one,  is  a  poor  ambition  indeed.' 

Nor  was  Mr.  Johnson  more  merciful  with  regard  to  the 
amusements  people  are  contented  to  call  such  :  *  You  hunt  in  the 
morning  (says  he),  and  crowd  to  the  public  rooms  at  night,  and 
call  it  diversion 2 ;  when  your  heart  knows  it  is  perishing  with 
poverty  of  pleasures,  and  your  wits  get  blunted  for  want  of  some 
other  mind  to  sharpen  them  upon.  There  is  in  this  world  no 
real  delight  (excepting  those  of  sensuality),  but  exchange  of 
ideas  in  conversation 3 ;  and  whoever  has  once  experienced  the 
full  flow  of  London  talk,  when  he  retires  to  country  friendships 
and  rural  sports,  must  either  be  contented  to  turn  baby  again 
and  play  with  the  rattle,  or  he  will  pine  away  like  a  great  fish  in 
a  little  pond,  and  die  for  want  of  his  usual  food  V — '  Books  with 
out  the  knowledge  of  life  are  useless  (I  have  heard  him  say) ;  for 
what  should  books  teach  but  the  art  of  living ?  To  study  man 
ners  however  only  in  coffee-houses,  is  more  than  equally  imper 
fect  ;  the  minds  of  men  who  acquire  no  solid  learning,  and  only 

1  Johnson's  first  definition  of  Canal  than  in  all  the  rest  of  the  kingdom." ' 

is  a  bason  of  water  in  a  garden.  Life,  ii.  75. 

"  '  Diversion  seems  to  be  some-  *  I  observed  to  Dr.  Johnson,  that 

thing  lighter  than  amusement  and  I  had  a  most  disagreeable  notion 

less  forcible  than  pleasure?  John-  of  the  life  of  country  gentlemen ; 

son's  Dictionary.  '  The  publick  plea-  that  I  left  Mr.  Fraser  just  now,  as 

sures  of  far  the  greater  part  of  man-  one  leaves  a  prisoner  in  a  jail.  Dr. 

kind  are  counterfeit.'  Idler,  No.  18.  Johnson  said,  that  I  was  right  in 

3  Ante,  p.  308.  thinking  them    unhappy  ;    for  that 

4  'Talking  of  a   London  life,  he  they  had  not  enough  to  keep  their 
said,  "  The  happiness  of  London  is  minds  in  motion.'     Ib.  v.  108.     Mrs. 
not  to   be   conceived   but  by  those  Thrale  writing  to  him  in  1777,  says: — 
who  have  been  in  it.     I  will  venture  '  You  would  rather  be  sick  in  Lon- 
to  say,  there  is  more  learning  and  don  than  well  in  the  country.'    Piozzi 
science    within    the     circumference  Letters,  i.  394. 

of  ten  miles  from  where  we  now  sit, 

exist 


Anecdotes.  325 


exist  on  the  daily  forage  that  they  pick  up  by  running  about, 
and  snatching  what  drops  from  their  neighbours  as  ignorant  as 
themselves,  will  never  ferment  into  any  knowledge  valuable  or 
durable x ;  but  like  the  light  wines  we  drink  in  hot  countries, 
please  for  the  moment  though  incapable  of  keeping.  In  the 
study  of  mankind  much  will  be  found  to  swim  as  froth,  and 
much  must  sink  as  feculence,  before  the  wine  can  have  its  effect, 
and  become  that  noblest  liquor  which  rejoices  the  heart,  and 
gives  vigour  to  the  imagination.' 

I  am  well  aware  that  I  do  not,  and  cannot  give  each  expres 
sion  of  Dr.  Johnson  with  all  its  force  or  all  its  neatness ;  but 
I  have  done  my  best  to  record  such  of  his  maxims,  and  repeat 
such  of  his  sentiments,  as  may  give  to  those  who  knew  him  not, 
a  just  idea  of  his  character  and  manner  of  thinking.  To  endea 
vour  at  adorning,  or  adding,  or  softening,  or  meliorating  such 
anecdotes,  by  any  tricks  my  inexperienced  pen  could  play, 
would  be  weakness  indeed 2 ;  worse  than  the  Frenchman  who 
presides  over  the  porcelain  manufactory  at  Seve 3 ;  to  whom 
when  some  Greek  vases  were  given  him  as  models,  he  lamented 
la  tristesse  de  telles  formes ;  and  endeavoured  to  assist  them  by 
clusters  of  flowers,  while  flying  Cupids  served  for  the  handles  of 
urns  originally  intended  to  contain  the  ashes  of  the  dead.  The 
misery  is,  that  I  can  recollect  so  few  anecdotes,  and  that  I  have 
recorded  no  more  axioms  of  a  man  whose  every  word  merited 
attention,  and  whose  every  sentiment  did  honour  to  human 
nature.  Remote  from  affectation  as  from  error  or  falsehood,  the 
comfort  a  reader  has  in  looking  over  these  papers,  is  the  cer 
tainty  that  those  were  really  the  opinions  of  Johnson,  which  are 
related  as  such. 

Fear  of  what  others  may  think,  is  the  great  cause  of  affecta 
tion  ;  and  he  was  not  likely  to  disguise  his  notions  out  of 

1  See  Life,  iii.  308,  n.  3,  for  Tom  said     roughly  :     "He    would    not 
Restless.  cut  off  his  claws,  nor  make  a  tiger 

2  *  I  besought  Boswell's  tenderness  a  cat,  to  please  anybody." '  H.  More's 
for  our  virtuous   and  most  revered  Memoirs,  i.  403. 

departed  friend,  and  begged  he  would  3  The  Thrales  and  Johnson  visited 
mitigate  some  of  his  asperities.  He  Sevres  in  1775.  Life,  ii.  397. 

cowardice. 


326  Anecdotes. 


cowardice.  He  hated  disguise,  and  nobody  penetrated  it  so 
readily1.  I  shewed  him  a  letter  written  to  a  common  friend, 
who  was  at  some  loss  for  the  explanation  of  it :  '  Whoever  wrote 
it  (says  our  Doctor)  could,  if  he  chose  it,  make  himself  under 
stood  ;  but  'tis  the  letter  of  an  embarrassed  man>  Sir  ; '  and  so 
the  event  proved  it  to  be. 

Mysteriousness  in  trifles  offended  him  on  every  side 2 :  '  it 
commonly  ended  in  guilt  (he  said) ;  for  those  who  begin  by 
concealment  of  innocent  things,  will  soon  have  something  to  hide 
which  they  dare  not  bring  to  light.'  He  therefore  encouraged 
an  openness  of  conduct,  in  women  particularly,  '  who  (he  ob 
served)  were  often  led  away  when  children,  by  their  delight 
and  power  of  surprising.'  He  recommended,  on  something  like 
the  same  principle,  that  when  one  person  meant  to  serve 
another,  he  should  not  go  about  it  slily,  or  as  we  say  under 
hand,  out  of  a  false  idea  of  delicacy,  to  surprise  one's  friend  with 
an  unexpected  favour,  *  which,  ten  to  one  (says  he),  fails  to 
oblige  your  acquaintance,  who  had  some  reasons  against  such 
a  mode  of  obligation,  which  you  might  have  known  but  for  that 
superfluous  cunning  which  you  think  an  elegance.  Oh !  never 
be  seduced  by  such  silly  pretences  (continued  he) ;  if  a  wench 
wants  a  good  gown,  do  not  give  her  a  fine  smelling-bottle, 
because  that  is  more  delicate  :  as  I  once  knew  a  lady  3  lend  the 
key  of  her  library  to  a  poor  scribbling  dependant,  as  if  she  took 
the  woman  for  an  ostrich  that  could  digest  iron.'  He  said 
indeed,  '  that  women  were  very  difficult  to  be  taught  the  proper 

1   '  Dr.    Johnson    talked    of   that  imposture.'  Shaftesbury's  Character- 

studied  behaviour  which  many  have  isticks,  ed.  1714,  i.  n. 

recommended   and  practised.      He  *  Ciceron  laissait  aux  petits  esprits 

disapproved  of  it;  and  said,  "  I  never  leur  constante  gravite,  qui  n'est  que 

considered  whether  I   should   be  a  la  masque  de  la  mediocriteV    VOL- 

grave  man,  or  a  merry  man,  but  just  TAIRE  :    quoted  in  Warton's  Pope's 

let  inclination,  for  the  time,  have  its  Works,  iv.  222. 

course." '     Life^  i.  470.  2   Horace    Walpole    (Letters,    iii. 

'La  gravit^   est   un    mystere    du  371)  calls  mystery  'the  wisdom  of 

corps,  invent^  pour  cacher  les  de-  blockheads.' 

fauts  de   1'esprit.'     LA  ROCHEFOU-  3  '  This  lady  was  Mrs.  Montagu.' 

CAULD,  Maximes,  No.  265.  Hay  ward's  Piozzi,  i.  296. 

'  Gravity  is  of  the  very  essence  of 

manner 


Anecdotes.  327 


manner  of  conferring  pecuniary  favours  ;  that  they  always  gave 
too  much  money  or  too  little;  for  that  they  had  an  idea  of 
delicacy  accompanying  their  gifts,  so  that  they  generally  rendered 
them  either  useless  or  ridiculous.' 

He  did  indeed  say  very  contemptuous  things  of  our  sex  ;  but 
was  exceedingly  angry  when  I  told  Miss  Reynolds  that  he  said, 
'  It  was  well  managed  of  some  one  to  leave  his  affairs  in  the 
hands  of  his  wife,  because,  in  matters  of  business  (said  he),  no 
woman  stops  at  integrity  V  This  was,  I  think,  the  only  sen 
tence  I  ever  observed  him  solicitous  to  explain  away  after  he 
had  uttered  it 2.  He  was  not  at  all  displeased  at  the  recollection 
of  a  sarcasm  thrown  on  a  whole  profession  at  once;  when 
a  gentleman  leaving  the  company,  somebody  who  sate  next 
Dr.  Johnson,  asked  him,  who  he  was  ? .  c  I  cannot  exactly  tell 
you  Sir  (replied  he),  and  I  would  be  loth  to  speak  ill  of  any 
person  who  I  do  not  know  deserves  it,  but  I  am  afraid  he  is  an 
attorney  V  He  did  not  however  encourage  general  satire  4,  and 
for  the  most  part  professed  himself  to  feel  directly  contrary 
to  Dr.  Swift  ;  '  who  (says  he)  hates  the  world,  though  he  loves 
John  and  Robert,  and  certain  individuals.' 

Johnson  said  always,  '  that  the  world  was  well  constructed, 
but  that  the  particular  people  disgraced  the  elegance  and  beauty 
of  the  general  fabric.'  In  the  same  manner  I  was  relating  once 

1  His  anger  at  this  being  told  to          3 '  Much  enquiry  having  been  made 

Miss  Reynolds  was  probably  due  to  concerning  a  gentleman,   who  had 

his  high  opinion  of  her  virtue.     See  quitted  a  company  where  Johnson 

ante,  p.  207.  was,  and  no  information  being  ob- 

a  '  JOHNSON  (who,  from  drinking  tained  ;    at  last  Johnson   observed, 

only  water,  supposed  every  body  who  that  "  he  did  not  care  to  speak  ill  of 

drank  wine  to  be  elevated,)  "  I  won't  any  man   behind   his  back,  but  he 

argue  any  more  with  you,  Sir.     You  believed  the  gentleman  was  an  at- 

are  too  far  gone."    SIR  JOSHUA.   "I  torney"'    Life,  ii.  126.    When  we 

should  have  thought  so  indeed,  Sir,  see  how  this  sarcasm  has  been  spoilt 

had  I  made  such  a  speech  as  you  in  the  telling  by  Mrs.  Piozzi,  we  may 

have  now  done."    "  JOHNSON  (draw-  quote  Mr.  Fitzherbert's  saying,  'It  is 

ing  himself  in,  and,  I  really  thought,  not  every  man  that  can  carry  a  bon- 

blushing,)  "  Nay,   don't  be    angry.  mot.'    Ib.  ii.  350. 
I   did  not  mean  to    offend  you."  '          4  See  ante,  p.  223  for  his  '  aversion 

Life,  iii.  329.  to  general  satire.' 

to 


328  Anecdotes. 


to  him,  how  Dr.  Collier  T  observed,  that  the  love  one  bore  to 
children  was  from  the  anticipation  one's  mind  made  while  one 
contemplated  them :  *  We  hope  (says  he)  that  they  will  some 
time  make  wise  men,  or  amiable  women  ;  and  we  suffer  'em  to 
take  up  our  affection  beforehand.  One  cannot  love  lumps  of  flesh, 
and  little  infants  are  nothing  more.  On  the  contrary  (says 
Johnson),  one  can  scarcely  help  wishing,  while  one  fondles 
a  baby,  that  it  may  never  live  to  become  a  man ;  for  it  is 
so  probable  that  when  he  becomes  a  man,  he  should  be  sure  to 
end  in  a  scoundrel 2.'  Girls  were  less  displeasing  to  him  ;  '  for 
as  their  temptations  were  fewer  (he  said),  their  virtue  in  this  life, 
and  happiness  in  the  next,  were  less  improbable 3 ;  and  he  loved 
(he  said)  to  see  a  knot  of  little  misses  dearly.' 

Needle-work  had  a  strenuous  approver  in  Dr.  Johnson,  who 
said,  '  that  one  of  the  great  felicities  of  female  life,  was  the 
general  consent  of  the  world,  that  they  might  amuse  themselves 
with  petty  occupations,  which  contributed  to  the  lengthening 
their  lives,  and  preserving  their  minds  in  a  state  of  sanity.' 
A  man  cannot  hem  a  pocket-handkerchief  (said  a  lady  of  quality 
to  him  one  day),  and  so  he  runs  mad,  and  torments  his  family 
and  friends.  The  expression  struck  him  exceedingly,  and  when 
one  acquaintance  grew  troublesome,  and  another  unhealthy,  he 
used  to  quote  Lady  Frances's  observation,  '  That  a  man  cannot 
hem  a  pocket-handkerchief4.' 

The  nice  people 5  found  no  mercy  from  Mr.  Johnson ;  such 
I  mean  as  can  dine  only  at  four  o'clock,  who  cannot  bear  to  be 
waked  at  an  unusual  hour,  or  miss  a  stated  meal  without  incon- 

1  Ante,  p.  246.  4  '  Women  have  a  great  advantage 

2  Johnson  could  never  have  said  that   they  may  take  up  with  little 
'  it  is  so  probable  that  he  should  be  things,    without     disgracing    them- 
sure.'      For   his    use  of   the  word  selves  :    a  man  cannot,  except  with 
scoundrel  see  Life,  iii.  i.  fiddling.     Had  I  learnt  to  fiddle,  I 

3  '  Women,'  said  Johnson,  '  have  should  have  done  nothing  else.'    Ib. 
not  the  same  temptations    that  we  iii.  242. 

have :  they  may  always  live  in  vir-  5  Nice  in  the  sense  in  which  it 
tuous  company ;  men  must  mix  in  is  commonly  used  at  the  present 
the  world  indiscriminately.'  Ib.  iii.  time  is  not  given  in  Johnson's  Die- 
287.  tionary. 

venience. 


Anecdotes.  329 


venience.  He  had  no  such  prejudices  himself1,  and  with  difficulty 
forgave  them  in  another.  '  Delicacy  does  not  surely  consist  (says 
he)  in  impossibility  to  be  pleased,  and  that  is  false  dignity  indeed 
which  is  content  to  depend  upon  others.' 

The  saying  of  the  old  philosopher,  who  observes,  That  he  who 
wants  least  is  most  like  the  gods,  who  want  nothing 2 ;  was  a 
favourite  sentence  with  Dr.  Johnson,  who  on  his  own  part  required 
less  attendance,  sick  or  well,  than  ever  I  saw  any  human  creature 3. 
Conversation  was  all  he  required  to  make  him  happy;  and  when 
he  would  have  tea  made  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  was 
only  that  there  might  be  a  certainty  of  detaining  his  companions 
round  him4.  On  that  principle  it  was  that  he  preferred  winter 
to  summer,  when  the  heat  of  the  weather  gave  people  an  excuse 
to  stroll  about,  and  walk  for  pleasure  in  the  shade,  while  he 
wished  to  sit  still  on  a  chair,  and  chat  day  after  day,  till  some 
body  proposed  a  drive  in  the  coach  ;  and  that  was  the  most 
delicious  moment  of  his  life s.  *  But  the  carriage  must  stop 
sometime  (as  he  said),  and  the  people  would  come  home  at 
last ; '  so  his  pleasure  was  of  short  duration. 

I  asked  him  why  he  doated  on  a  coach  so  ?  and  received  for 
answer,  *  That  in  the  first  place,  the  company  was  shut  in  with 
him  there ;  and  could  not  escape,  as  out  of  a  room :  in  the  next 
place,  he  heard  all  that  was  said  in  a  carriage,  where  it  was  my 
turn  to  be  deaf:'  and  very  impatient  was  he  at  my  occasional 

1  '  JOHNSON.    I  never  felt  any  dif-  p*v  fnjSei/oy  5et<r0<u  Oelov  to/at,  TO  5' 

ference  upon  myself  from  eating  one  o>y    fXaxio-rwv,    eyyt>raro>    rov    Geiov. 

thing  rather  than  another  .  .  .  There  Memorabilia,  i.  6.  10. 

are  people,  I  believe,  who  feel  a  dif-  '  Deum  quern  a  teneris  coluit  cum 

ference  ;  but  I  am  not  one  of  them.  primis  imitatus  est  paucis  egendo.' 

And  as  to  regular  meals,  I  have  fasted  Epitaph    on    Dr.  Barrow.      Life  of 

from    the   Sunday's    dinner    to   the  Seth  Ward,  p.  168. 

Tuesday's    dinner  without   any  in-  3  '  There   is    nothing,'    he    said, 

convenience.      I   believe   it   is   best  *  against  which  an  old  man  should  be 

to  eat  just  as  one  is  hungry ;    but  so  much  upon  his  guard  as  putting 

a  man  who  is  in  business,  or  a  man  himself  to  nurse.'     Life,  ii.  474. 

who  has  a  family,  must  have  stated  4  Ante,  p.  231. 

meals.'     Life,  iii.  305.  5  Life,  iii.  5,  162. 

a  Socrates.       'Eyd!>    de    vopifa    TO 

difficulty 


330 


Anecdotes. 


difficulty  of  hearing.  On  this  account  he  wished  to  travel  all 
over  the  world  x ;  for  the  very  act  of  going  forward  was  delightful 
to  him,  and  he  gave  himself  no  concern  about  accidents,  which 
he  said  never  happened :  nor  did  the  running-away  of  the  horses 
on  the  edge  of  a  precipice  between  Vernon  and  St.  Denys  in 
France 2  convince  him  to  the  contrary ;  '  for  nothing  came  of  it 
(he  said),  except  that  Mr.  Thrale  leaped  out  of  the  carriage  into 
a  chalk-pit,  and  then  came  up  again,  looking  as  white  ! '  When 
the  truth  was,  all  their  lives  were  saved  by  the  greatest  providence 
ever  exerted  in  favour  of  three  human  creatures ;  and  the  part 
Mr.  Thrale  took  from  desperation  was  the  likeliest  thing  in  the 
world  to  produce  broken  limbs  and  death. 

Fear  was  indeed  a  sensation  to  which  Mr.  Johnson  was  an 
utter  stranger,  excepting  when  some  sudden  apprehensions  seized 
him  that  he  was  going  to  die3;  and  even  then  he  kept  all  his 
wits  about  him,  to  express  the  most  humble  and  pathetic  petitions 
to  the  Almighty:  and  when  the  first  paralytic  stroke4  took  his 
speech  from  him,  he  instantly  set  about  composing  a  prayer  in 
Latin,  at  once  to  deprecate  God's  mercy,  to  satisfy  himself  that 
his  mental  powers  remained  unimpaired,  and  to  keep  them  in 
exercise,  that  they  might  not  perish  by  permitted  stagnation. 
This  was  after  we  parted  ;  but  he  wrote  me  an  account  of  it,  and 
I  intend  to  publish  that  letter  5,  with  many  more. 


1  For  his   love  of  travelling   see 
Life,  iii.  449. 

2  Johnson's  Journal  for  this  part 
of  his  tour  is  missing. 

3  'JOHNSON.  "Fear  is  one  of  the 
passions  of  human  nature  of  which 
it  is  impossible  to  divest  it.    You  re 
member  that  the  Emperour  Charles  V, 
when  he  read  upon  the  tomb-stone  of 
a  Spanish  nobleman,  '  Here  lies  one 
who  never  knew  fear,'  wittily  said, 
'  Then  he    never  snuffed  a   candle 
with    his    fingers.'"3     Life,  ii.    81. 
'  Johnson  feared  death,  but  he  feared 
nothing  else,  not  even  what  might 
occasion  death.'     Ib.  ii.  298. 

'  It  was  the  saying  of  one  of  the 


bravest  men  in  this  age,  to  one  who 
told  him  he  feared  nothing,  "  Shew 
me  but  a  certain  danger,  and  I  shall 
be  as  much  afraid  as  any  of  you.'" 
Pope's  Iliad,  ed.  1760,  vi.  19,  n. 

'  Daniel  Webster,  the  day  he  died, 
said,  "  No  man  who  is  not  a  brute 
can  say  that  he  is  not  afraid  of 
death."  '  Curtis's  Webster,  ii.  697. 

4  It  does  not  seem  that  he  had 
more    than    one    stroke.      For    his 
prayer  in  Latin  see  Life,  iv.  230,  n.  I. 

5  His  letter  begins : — '  I  am  sitting 
down  in  no  cheerful  solitude  to  write 
a  narrative  which  would  once  have 
affected  you  with    tenderness    and 
sorrow,  but  which  you  will  perhaps 

When 


Anecdotes.  331 


When  one  day  he  had  at  my  house  taken  tincture  of  antimony 
instead  of  emetic  wine,  for  a  vomit,  he  was  himself  the  person  to 
direct  us  what  to  do  for  him,  and  managed  with  as  much  coolness 
and  deliberation  as  if  he  had  been  prescribing  for  an  indifferent 
person.  Though  on  another  occasion,  when  he  had  lamented  in 
the  most  piercing  terms  his  approaching  dissolution,  and  con 
jured  me  solemnly  to  tell  him  what  I  thought,  while  Sir  Richard 
Jebb  x  was  perpetually  on  the  road  to  Streatham,  and  Mr.  Johnson 
seemed  to  think  himself  neglected  if  the  physician  left  him  for  an 
hour  only,  I  made  him  a  steady,  but  as  I  thought  a  very  gentle 
harangue,  in  which  I  confirmed  all  that  the  Doctor  had  been 
saying,  how  no  present  danger  could  be  expected ;  but  that  his 
age  and  continued  ill  health  must  naturally  accelerate  the  arrival 
of  that  hour  which  can  be  escaped  by  none 2 :  '  And  this  (says 
Johnson,  rising  in  great  anger)  is  the  voice  of  female  friendship 
I  suppose,  when  the  hand  of  the  hangman  would  be  softer.' 

Another  day,  when  he  was  ill,  and  exceedingly  low-spirited, 
and  persuaded  that  death  was  not  far  distant,  I  appeared  before 
him  in  a  dark-coloured  gown,  which  his  bad  sight,  and  worse 
apprehensions,  made  him  mistake  for  an  iron-grey.  *  Why  do 
you  delight  (said  he)  thus  to  thicken  the  gloom  of  misery  that 
surrounds  me  ?  is  not  here  sufficient  accumulation  of  horror  with 
out  anticipated  mourning?'  This  is  not  mourning  Sir  (said  I), 
drawing  the  curtain,  that  the  light  might  fall  upon  the  silk,  and 
shew  it  was  a  purple  mixed  with  green.  *  Well,  well  (replied 
he,  changing  his  voice),  you  little  creatures  should  never  wear 
those  sort  of  clothes  however ;  they  are  unsuitable  in  every 
way.  What !  have  not  all  insects  gay  colours 3 ! '  I  relate  these 

pass    over    now  with    the    careless  she  was  sixty-two   years    old],   de- 
glance  of  frigid  indifference.'  Letters,  scribes  her  as  "skipping  about  like 
ii.  300.  a  kid,  quite  a  figure  of  fun,  in  a  tiger 
1  Ib.  ii.  148,  n.  2.  skin  shawl,  lined  with  scarlet,  and 
3  Another  time,  when  he  was  very  only  five  colours  upon    her    head- 
ill,  she  had  written  to  him  'about  dress -on   the  top  of  a  flaxen  wig 
dying  with  a  grace.'     Ib.  ii.  384.  a  bandeau  of  blue  velvet,  a  bit  of 
3  Quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  495.  tiger  ribbon,  a  white  beaver  hat  and 
'  A  lady  who  met  her  on  her  way  plume  of  black  feathers— as  gay  as 
to  Wynnstay  in  January,  1803  [when  a  lark."  '     Hayward's  Ptozzi,  i.  346. 

instances 


332  A  necdotes. 


instances  chiefly  to  shew  that  the  fears  of  death  itself  could 
not  suppress  his  wit,  his  sagacity,  or  his  temptation  to  sudden 
resentment. 

Mr.  Johnson  did  not  like  that  his  friends  should  bring  their 
manuscripts  for  him  to  read,  and  he  liked  still  less  to  read  them 
when  they  were  brought :  sometimes  however  when  he  could  not 
refuse  he  would  take  the  play  or  poem,  or  whatever  it  was,  and 
give  the  people  his  opinion  from  some  one  page  that  he  had 
peeped  into.  A  gentleman  carried  him  his  tragedy,  which, 
because  he  loved  the  author  x,  Johnson  took,  and  it  lay  about  our 
rooms  some  time.  What  answer  did  you  give  your  friend,  Sir  ? 
said  I,  after  the  book  had  been  called  for.  '  I  told  him  (replied 
he),  that  there  was  too  much  Tig  and  Tirry  in  it.'  Seeing  me 
laugh  most  violently,  '  Why  what  would'st  have,  child  ? '  (said 
he.)  I  looked  at  nothing  but  the  dramatis  [personse],  and  there 
was  Tz^ranes  and  TVr/dates,  or  Teribazus,  or  such  stuff2.  A  man 
can  tell  but  what  he  knows,  and  I  never  got  any  further  than  the 
first  page.  Alas,  Madam !  (continued  he)  how  few  books  are 
there  of  which  one  ever  can  possibly  arrive  at  the  last  page ! 
Was  there  ever  yet  any  thing  written  by  mere  man  that  was 
wished  longer  by  its  readers,  excepting  Don  Quixote,  Robinson 
Crusoe 3,  and  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  4  ?  '  After  Homer's  Iliad, 

1  Arthur  Murphy,  whom  Johnson  through  several  editions,  and  please 
*  very  much  loved.'     Life,  ii.  127.  as   many  readers    as    Dryden    and 

2  In  Murphy's  tragedy  of  Zenobia  Tillotson.'      The    Whig  Examiner, 
two  of  the  characters  are  Teribazus  No.  2. 

and  Tigranes.  1720.    Swift.    '  I  have  been  better 

3  Smollett    describes    the    author  entertained  and  more  informed  by 
'  as  one  Daniel  de  Foe,  a  scurrilous  a  few  pages  in  the  Pilgrim 's  Pro- 
party-writer,  in   very   little   estima-  gress  than  by  a  long  discourse  upon 
tion.'    History  of  England ',  ed.  1800,  the  will  and  the  intellect  and  simple 
i.  420.  or  complex  ideas.'     A  Letter  to  a 

4  Ante,  p.   319.      For    Johnson's  Young  Clergyman.   Works,  ed.  1 803, 
admiration   of  Bunyan  see  Life,  ii.  viii.  20. 

238.     I  have  collected  the  following  1741.    Gentleman's  Magazine,  p. 

instances  of  the  estimate  set  on  the  488.      '  Take    it    all    together  there 

Pilgrim's  Progress  last  century.  never   was   an   Allegory  better  de- 

1710.  Addison.  '  I  never  yet  knew  signed  or  better  supported.' 

an  author  that  had  not  his  admirers.  1758.  Mrs.  Montagu.  '  Bunyan  and 

Bunyan  and   Quarles    have  passed  Ouarles,  those  classics  of  the  artificers 

Mr. 


Anecdotes. 


333 


Mr.  Johnson  confessed  that  the  work  of  Cervantes  was  the 
greatest  in  the  world,  speaking  of  it  I  mean  as  a  book  of  enter 
tainment  ;  and  when  we  consider  that  every  other  author's 
admirers  are  confined  to  his  countrymen,  and  perhaps  to  the 
literary  classes  among  them,  while  Don  Quixote  is  a  sort  of 
common  property,  an  universal  classic,  equally  tasted  by  the 
court  and  the  cottage,  equally  applauded  in  France  and  England 
as  in  Spain,  quoted  by  every  servant,  the  amusement  of  every 
age  from  infancy  to  decrepitude ;  the  first  book  you  see  on 
every  shelf,  in  every  shop,  where  books  are  sold,  through  all  the 
states  of  Italy;  who  can  refuse  his  consent  to  an  avowal  of  the 


in  leather.'  Letters  of  Mrs.  Montagu, 
iv.  78. 

1759.  Burke.  'The  admirer  of 
Don  Bellianis  perhaps  does  not  un 
derstand  the  refined  language  of  the 
Eneid,  who,  if  it  was  degraded  into 
the  style  of  the  Pilgriirfs  Progress, 
might  feel  it  in  all  its  energy  on  the 
same  principle  which  made  him  an 
admirer  of  Don  Bellianis?  On  the 
Sublime  and  Beautiful,  ed.  1759, 
p.  25. 

1765.  Gentleman's  Magazine,  p. 
1 68.  '  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  is 
certainly  a  work  of  original  and  un 
common  genius.' 

1776.  Beattie.  '  Certain  it  is  that 
fables  in  which  there  is  neither  love 
nor  gallantry  may  be  made  highly 
interesting  even  to  the  fancy  and 
affections  of  a  modern  reader.  This 
appears  not  only  from  the  writings 
of  Shakespeare  and  other  great 
authors,  but  from  the  Pilgrints 
Progress  of  Bunyan,  and  the  His 
tory  of  Robinson  Crusoe?  Essays 
on  Poetry  and  Music,  ed.  1779,  p. 
191. 

1782.  Horace  Walpole.  'Dante 
was  extravagant,  absurd,  disgusting, 
in  short  a  Methodist  Parson  in  Bed 
lam.  Ariosto  was  a  more  agreeable 
Amadis  de  Gaul,  and  Spenser,  John 


Bunyan  in  rhyme.'  Walpole's  Letters, 
viii.  235. 

1785.  Cowper: — 
'I   name    thee    not,  lest   so   de 
spised  a  name 

Should  move  a  sneer  at  thy  de 
served  fame, 
Yet  ev'n  in  transitory  life's  late 

day 
That  mingles  all  my  brown  with 

sober  grey, 
Revere  the  man  whose  Pilgrim 

marks  the  road 
And  guides  the  Progress  of  the 

soul  to  God.' 

Tirocinium.  Poems,  1786,  ii,  298. 
Macaulay,  in  1830,  wrote  : — '  Cow 
per  said  forty  or  fifty  years  ago  that 
he  dared  not  name  John  Bunyan  in 
his  verse  for  fear  of  moving  a  sneer. 
To  our  refined  forefathers,  we  sup 
pose,  Lord  Roscommon's  Essay  on 
Translated  Verse,  and  the  Duke  of 
Buckinghamshire's  Essay  on  Poetry, 
appeared  to  be  compositions  infi 
nitely  superior  to  the  allegory  of  the 
preaching  tinker.  We  live  in  better 
times,'  &c.  Essays,  ed.  1843,  i-  424- 
Not  six  years  after  Macaulay  wrote 
this,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  was 
described  in  the  Penny  Cyclopaedia, 
vi.  20,  as  a  '  coarse  allegory . . .  mean, 
jejune  and  wearisome.' 

superiority 


334  Anecdotes. 


superiority  of  Cervantes  to  all  other  modern  writers?  Shake 
speare  himself  has,  till  lately,  been  worshipped  only  at  home, 
though  his  plays  are  now  the  favourite  amusements  of  Vienna ; 
and  when  I  was  at  Padua  some  months  ago,  Romeo  and  Juliet 
was  acted  there  under  the  name  of  Tragedia  Veronese ;  while  en 
gravers  and  translators  live  by  the  Hero  of  La  Mancha  in  every 
nation,  and  the  sides  of  miserable  inns  all  over  England  and 
France,  and  I  have  heard  Germany  too,  are  adorned  with  the 
exploits  of  Don  Quixote.  May  his  celebrity  procure  my  pardon 
for  a  digression  in  praise  of  a  writer  who,  through  four  volumes 
of  the  most  exquisite  pleasantry  and  genuine  humour,  has  never 
been  seduced  to  overstep  the  limits  of  propriety,  has  never  called 
in  the  wretched  auxiliaries  of  obscenity  or  profaneness ;  who 
trusts  to  nature  and  sentiment  alone,  and  never  misses  of  that 
applause  which  Voltaire  and  Sterne  labour  to  produce  T,  while 
honest  merriment  bestows  her  unfading  crown  upon  Cervantes. 

Dr.  Johnson  was  a  great  reader  of  French  literature,  and 
delighted  exceedingly  in  Boileau's  works 3.  Moliere  I  think  he 
had  hardly  sufficient  taste  of;  and  he  used  to  condemn  me  for 
preferring  La  Bruyere  to  the  Due  de  Rochefoucault,  *  who  (he 
said)  was  the  only  gentleman  writer  who  wrote  like  a  professed 
author.1  The  asperity  of  his  harsh  sentences,  each  of  them 
a  sentence  of  condemnation,  used  to  disgust  me  however  ;  though 
it  must  be  owned,  that,  among  the  necessaries  of  Tiuman  life, 
a  rasp  is  reckoned  one  as  well  as  a  razor. 

Mr.  Johnson  did  not  like  any  one  who  said  they  were  happy, 
or  who  said  any  one  else  was  so.  '  It  is  all  cant  (he  would  cry), 
the  dog  knows  he  is  miserable  all  the  time  V  A  friend  whom 

1   Goldsmith     called    Sterne    'a  2  '  S'il  m'est  permis  de  parler  pour 

bawdy  blockhead.'     Citizen  of  the  moi-meme,     Boileau    est    un     des 

World,  Letter  74  ;  Life,  ii.  173,  n.  2.  hommes  qui  m'ont  le  plus  occup£ 

When  he  said  that  he  was  '  a  very  depuis  que  je  fais  de  la  critique,  et 

dull  fellow '  Johnson  replied,  '  Why  avec  qui  j'ai  le  plus  vdcu  en  idee.' 

no  Sir.'     Ib.  ii.  222.     Later  on  how-  Sainte-Beuve,  Causeries  de  Lundi, 

ever,  Johnson  said  : — '  Nothing  odd  vi.  495. 

will  do  long.     Tristram  Shandy  did  3  '  The  world  in  its  best  state  is 

not  last.'    Ib.  ii.  449.  nothing  more  than  a  larger  assembly 

he 


Anecdotes.  335 

he  loved  exceedingly,  told  him  on  some  occasion  notwithstanding, 
that  his  wife's  sister  was  really  happy,  and  called  upon  the  lady 
to  confirm  his  assertion,  which  she  did  somewhat  roundly  as 
we  say.  and  with  an  accent  and  manner  capable  of  offending 
Mr.  Johnson,  if  her  position  had  not  been  sufficient,  without  any 
thing  more,  to  put  him  in  very  ill  humour.  '  If  your  sister-in- 
law  is  really  the  contented  being  she  professes  herself  Sir  (said 
he),  her  life  gives  the  lie  to  every  research  of  humanity ;  for  she 
is  happy  without  health,  without  beauty,  without  money,  and 
without  understanding.'  This  story  he  told  me  himself;  and 
when  I  expressed  something  of  the  horror  I  felt,  'The  same 
stupidity  (said  he)  which  prompted  her  to  extol  felicity  she 
never  felt,  hindered  her  from  feeling  what  shocks  you  on  repe 
tition.  I  tell  you,  the  woman  is  ugly,  and  sickly,  and  foolish, 
and  poor ;  and  would  it  not  make  a  man  hang  himself  to  hear 
such  a  creature  say,  it  was  happy  ? ' 

'  The  life  of  a  sailor  was  also  a  continued  scene  of  danger  and 
exertion  (he  said) ;  and  the  manner  in  which  time  was  spent  on 
shipboard  would  make  all  who  saw  a  cabin  envy  a  gaol  V  The 
roughness  of  the  language  used  on  board  a  man  of  war,  where 
he  passed  a  week  on  a  visit  to  Capt.  Knight,  disgusted  him 
terribly.  He  asked  an  officer  what  some  place  was  called,  and 
received  for  answer,  that  it  was  where  the  loplolly  man  kept  his 
loplolly2:  a  reply  he  considered,  not  unjustly,  as  disrespectful, 

of  beings,  combining  to  counterfeit  lin's   Works,  ed.  1889,  iv.  73.    Yet 

happiness  which  they  do  not   feel.'  even  their  lot  was  better  than   the 

Works,  iv.  120.     See  Life,  ii.  350;  soldiers'.     'The  son  of  a  creditable 

Hi.  53.  labourer  or  artificer  may  frequently 

1  'He  said,  "No  man  will   be   a  go  to  sea  with  his  father's  consent; 

sailor  who  has  contrivance  enough  but  if  he  inlists  as  a  soldier  it   is 

to  get  himself  into  a  jail ;  for  being  always  without  it.'     Wealth  of  Na- 

in  a  ship  is  being  in  a  jail,  with  the  tions,  ed.  1811,  i.  148. 

chance  of  being  drowned."     And  at  2  Johnson   and   Reynolds  visited 

another  time,  "A  man  in  a  jail  has  Plymouth  in  1762.    Life,  i.  378.    Mr. 

more  room,  better  food,  and   com-  Croker  says  that  Captain  Knight  of 

monly   better  company."'     Life,   i.  the   Belleisle  lay  for    a    couple    of 

348.  months  in  1762  in  Plymouth  Sound. 

'There  is  no  slavery  worse  than  Croker's  Bosiuell,  p.  480.     It  seems 

that  sailors  are  subjected  to.'  Frank-  unlikely  that  Johnson  passed  a  whole 

gross, 


336 


Anecdotes. 


gross,  and  ignorant ;  for  though  in  the  course  of  these  Memoirs 
I  have  been  led  to  mention  Dr.  Johnson's  tenderness  towards 
poor  people,  I  do  not  wish  to  mislead  my  readers,  and  make 
them  think  he  had  any  delight  in  mean  manners  or  coarse  ex 
pressions  x.  Even  dress  itself,  when  it  resembled  that  of  the 
vulgar,  offended  him  exceedingly;  and  when  he  had  condemned 
me  many  times  for  not  adorning  my  children  with  more  show 
than  I  thought  useful  or  elegant,  I  presented  a  little  girl  to 
him  who  came  o' visiting  one  evening  covered  with  shining 
ornaments,  to  see  if  he  would  approve  of  the  appearance 
she  made.  When  they  were  gone  home,  Well  Sir,  said  I,  how 
did  you  like  little  miss  ?  I  hope  she  was  fine  enough.  *  It 
was  the  finery  of  a  beggar  (said  he),  and  you  know  it  was; 
she  looked  like  a  native  of  Cow-lane  dressed  up  to  be  carried 
to  Bartholomew-fair2.' 

His  reprimand  to  another  lady  for  crossing  her  little  child's 
handkerchief  before,  and  by  that  operation  dragging  down  its 
head  oddly  and  unintentionally,  was  on  the  same  principle.  '  It 
is  the  beggar's  fear  of  cold  (said  he)  that  prevails  over  such 
parents,  and  so  they  pull  the  poor  thing's  head  down,  and  give  it 
the  look  of  a  baby  that  plays  about  Westminster-Bridge,  while 
the  mother  sits  shivering  in  a  niche  V 

I  commended  a  young  lady  for  her  beauty  and  pretty  be 
haviour  one  day  however,  to  whom  I  thought  no  objections  could 
have  been  made.  '  I  saw  her  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  take  a  pair  of 
scissars  in  her  left  hand  though ;  and  for  all  her  father  is  now 


week  on  ship-board.  Loplolly,  or 
Loblolly,  is  explained  in  Roderick 
Random,  chap.xxvii.  Roderick,  when 
acting  as  the  surgeon's  assistant 
on  a  man  of  war,  'suffered,'  he 
says,  'from  the  rude  insults  of  the 
sailors  and  petty  officers,  among 
whom  I  was  known  by  the  name  of 
Loblolly  £oy.' 

1  Ante,  p.  292,  n  5. 


2  Five  Cow  Lanes  are  mentioned 
in  Dodsley's  London,  1761,  ii.  197. 

The  fair  was  held  in  Smithfield  'at 
Bartholomew-tide.'     Ib.  vi.  29. 

3  Johnson  defines  niche  '  a  hollow 
in  which  a  statue  may  be  placed.' 
In    many  of    the   recesses    on    the 
Bridge    were  *  pedestals    on    which 
was  intended  \sic\  a  group  of  figures.' 
Ib.  vi.  286. 

become 


Anecdotes.  337 


become  a  nobleman,  and  as  you  say  excessively  rich  *,  I  should, 
were  I  a  youth  of  quality  ten  years  hence,  hesitate  between  a  girl 
so  neglected,  and  a  negro! 

It  was  indeed  astonishing  how  he  could  remark  such  minute 
nesses  with  a  sight  so  miserably  imperfect ;  but  no  accidental 
position  of  a  ribband  escaped  him,  so  nice  was  his  observation, 
and  so  rigorous  his  demands  of  propriety 2.  When  I  went  with  him 
to  Litchfield  and  came  down  stairs  to  breakfast  at  the  inn  3,  my 
dress  did  not  please  him,  and  he  made  me  alter  it  entirely  before 
he  would  stir  a  step  with  us  about  the  town,  saying  most  satirical 
things  concerning  the  appearance  I  made  in  a  riding-habit ;  and 
adding,  *  'Tis  very  strange  that  such  eyes  as  yours  cannot  discern 
propriety  of  dress:  if  I  had  a  sight  only  half  as  good,  I  think 
I  should  see  to  the  centre.' 

My  compliances  however  were  of  little  worth :  what  really 
surprised  me  was  the  victory  he  gained  over  a  Lady  little  ac 
customed  to  contradiction,  who  had  dressed  herself  for  church  at 
Streatham  one  Sunday  morning,  in  a  manner  he  did  not  approve, 
and  to  whom  he  said  such  sharp  and  pungent  things  concerning 
her  hat,  her  gown,  &c.  that  she  hastened  to  change  them,  and 
returning  quite  another  figure  received  his  applause,  and  thanked 
him  for  his  reproofs,  much  to  the  amazement  of  her  husband, 
who  could  scarcely  believe  his  own  ears. 

1  Perhaps  Lord  Sandys   (ante,  p.       the  elegance  of  female  dress.'    Life, 
316,  n.  3),  who  became  a  nobleman  a       i.  41. 

year  after  his  marriage.  '  His  blindness,'  wrote  Miss  Bur- 

2  '  I  supposed  him,'  writes  Boswell,  ney,  '  is  as  much  the  effect  of  absence 
'  to  be  only  near-sighted  ;  and  indeed  [of  mind]  as  of  infirmity,  for  he  sees 
I   must  observe,  that   in   no    other  wonderfully  at  times.     He  can   see 
respect  could  I   discern  any  defect  the  colour  of  a  lady's  top-knot,  for 
in  his  vision;   on  the  contrary,  the  he  very  often   finds  fault  with  it.' 
force  of  his  attention  and  perceptive  Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary,  ii.  174. 
quickness  made   him   see   and  dis-  3  The  Swan.     Life,  v.  428.     Bos- 
tinguish     all    manner    of    objects,  well  and  Johnson  in  1776  stayed  at 
whether  of  nature  or  of  art,  with  a  the  Three  Crowns.    Ib.  ii.  461.     In 
nicety  that  is  rarely  to  be  found.  .  .  .  1779  Boswell  passed  a  night  at  the 
The  ladies  with  whom  he  was  ac-  George.    Ib.  iii.  411.    All  three  inns 
quainted   agree,   that  no   man   was  still  exist. 

more  nicely  and  minutely  critical  in 

VOL.  I.  Z  Another 


338  A  necdotes. 


Another  lady,  whose  accomplishments  he  never  denied,  came 
to  our  house  one  day  covered  with  diamonds,  feathers,  &C.1  and 
he  did  not  seem  inclined  to  chat  with  her  as  usual.  I  asked 
him  why?  when  the  company  was  gone.  'Why;  her  head 
looked  so  like  that  of  a  woman  who  shews  puppets  (said  he), 
and  her  voice  so  confirmed  the  fancy,  that  I  could  not  bear  her 
to-day ;  when  she  wears  a  large  cap,  I  can  talk  to  her.' 

When  the  ladies  wore  lace  trimmings  to  their  clothes,  he 
expressed  his  contempt  of  the  reigning  fashion  in  these  terms: 
'  A  Brussels  trimming  is  like  bread  sauce  (said  he),  it  takes 
away  the  glow  of  colour  from  the  gown,  and  gives  you  nothing 
instead  of  it ;  but  sauce  was  invented  to  heighten  the  flavour 
of  our  food,  and  trimming  is  an  ornament  to  the  manteau 2, 
or  it  is  nothing.  Learn  (said  he)  that  there  is  propriety  or 
impropriety  in  every  thing  how  slight  soever,  and  get  at 
the  general  principles  of  dress  and  of  behaviour ;  if  you  then 
transgress  them,  you  will  at  least  know  that  they  are  not 
observed.' 

All  these  exactnesses  in  a  man  who  was  nothing  less  than 
exact  himself,  made  him  extremely  impracticable  as  an  inmate, 
though  most  instructive  as  a  companion,  and  useful  as  a  friend. 
Mr.  Thrale  too  could  sometimes  over-rule  his  rigidity,  by  saying 

1  Most  likely  Mrs.  Montagu.  '  The  shewed  me  of  hers  formerly,  so  full 

Queenofihe&asMetts,  Mrs.  Montagu,  of  affectation,   refinement,  attempts 

crowned  her  toupet,  and  circled  her  to  philosophize,  talking  metaphysics 

neck  with  diamonds,  when  she  re-  —in   all    which   particulars   she    so 

ceived   an    assembly   of  foreigners,  bewildered  and  puzzled  herself  and 

literati,  and  maccaronis,  in  her  dress-  her  readers,  and  showed  herself  so 

ing-room,  the  walls  of  which  were  superficial,  nay,   really   ignorant  in 

newly  painted  with  "  bowers  of  roses  the  subjects  she  paraded  on  -  that  in 

and    jessamines,    entirely  inhabited  my  own  private  mind's  pocket-book 

by  little  cupids." '     Early  Diary  of  I   set  her  down  for  a  vain,  empty, 

F.  Burney,  i.  Preface,  p.  85.     Miss  conceited  pretender,  and  little  else.' 

Burney  speaks  of  her  'parade  and  os-  Early  Diary,  i.  Preface,  p.  34,  «.  2. 

tentation.'    Mme.  D'Arblay's  Diary,  For  her  pretentious  Essay  on  Shake- 

i.  325.  speare,   see  Life,   ii.   88.     See  also 

'  Daddy'  Crisp  wrote  of  Mrs.  Mon-  ante,  p.  287. 

tagu  to  Miss  Burney  in    1780:— 'I  2  Manteau  is    not    in    Johnson's 

believe  I  have  told  you  of  several  Dictionary. 
letters    the    Duchess    of    Portland 

coldly 


Anecdotes.  339 


coldly,  There,  there,  now  we  have  had  enough  for  one  lecture, 
Dr.  Johnson ;  we  will  not  be  upon  education  any  more  till  after 
dinner,  if  you  please — or  some  such  speech  x :  but  when  there 
was  nobody  to  restrain  his  dislikes,  it  was  extremely  difficult  to 
find  any  body  with  whom  he  could  converse,  without  living 
always  on  the  verge  of  a  quarrel,  or  of  something  too  like 
a  quarrel  to  be  pleasing2.  I  came  into  the  room,  for  example, 
one  evening,  where  he  and  a  gentleman,  whose  abilities  we  all 
respect  exceedingly,  were  sitting  ;  a  lady  who  walked  in  two 
minutes  before  me  had  blown  'em  both  into  a  flame,  by  whisper 
ing  something  to  Mr.  S d,  which  he  endeavoured  to  explain 

away,  so  as  not  to  affront  the  Doctor,  whose  suspicions  were  all 
alive.  '  And  have  a  care,  Sir  (said  he),  just  as  I  came  in  ;  the 
Old  Lion  will  not  bear  to  be  tickled.'  The  other  was  pale  with 
rage,  the  Lady  wept  at  the  confusion  she  had  caused3,  and 
I  could  only  say  with  Lady  Macbeth, 

Soh !   you've  displac'd  the  mirth,  broke  the  good  meeting 
With  most  admir'd  disorder4. 

Such  accidents  however  occurred  too  often,  and  I  was  forced 
to  take  advantage  of  my  lost  lawsuit 5,  and  plead  inability  of 

1  'I  know  no  man  (said  Johnson)  '"For  Seward?"  cried  Sir  Philip 
who  is  more  master  of  his  wife  and  [Clerk];  "did  she  cry  for  Seward?" 
family  than  Thrale.     If  he  but  holds  ' "  Seward,"  said  Mrs.  Thrale, " had 
up   a   finger  he   is   obeyed.'     Life,  affronted  Johnson,  and  then  John- 
i.  494.     He   was,   it   seems,   master  son  affronted  Seward,  and  then  the 
also  of   his  guest,  even  when  his  S.  S.  cried." 

guest  was  Johnson.  '  SIR   PHILIP.      "  But    what    did 

2  See    ante,    p.    310,    where    she  Seward  do  ?  was  he  not  melted  ?" 
writes  :— '  I  saw  Mr.  Johnson  in  none          'MRS.  THRALE.  "  Not  he  ;  he  was 
but  a  tranquil  uniform  state,  passing  thinking  only  of  his  own  affront  and 
the  evening  of  his  life  among  friends  taking  fire  at  that."  '     Mme.  D'Ar- 
who  loved,  honoured,  and  admired  blay's  Diary,  i.  227. 

him.'  4  '  You  have  displaced '  &c.   Mac- 

3  Mr.  S — d  was  no  doubt  William       beth,  Act  iii.  sc.  5.     '  Soh  ! '   is  Mrs. 
Seward  (Life,  iii.  123),  and  the  lady       Thrale's  addition. 

who  wept  was  most  probably  Sophy  5  Mrs.  Piozzi  seems  to  have  thought 

Streat  field,  that    her    lost    lawsuit    was    known 

"Tin  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Thrale,  to  all  the  world.  What  it  was  is 
"  when  she  cried  for  Seward  I  never  shown  by  the  following  entries.  '  My 
saw  her  louk  half  so  lovely."  uncle's  widow,  Lady  Salusbury,  had 

z  2  purse 


340 


Anecdotes. 


purse  to  remain  longer  in  London  or  its  vicinage.  I  had  been 
crossed  in  my  intentions  of  going  abroad  T,  and  found  it  con 
venient,  for  every  reason  of  health,  peace,  and  pecuniary  circum 
stances,  to  retire  to  Bath,  where  I  knew  Mr.  Johnson  would  not 
follow  me,  and  where  I  could  for  that  reason  command  some  little 
portion  of  time  for  my  own  use  ;  a  thing  impossible  while  I  re 
mained  at  Streatham  or  at  London,  as  my  hours,  carriage,  and 
servants  had  long  been  at  his  command,  who  would  not  rise  in 
the  morning  till  twelve  o'clock  perhaps 2,  and  oblige  me  to  make 


threatened  to  seize  upon  my  Welsh 
estate  if  I  did  not  repay  her  money 
lent  by  Sir  Thomas  Salusbury  to  my 
father;  money  in  effect  which  poor 
papa  had  borrowed  to  give  him 
when  he  was  a  student  at  Cambridge, 
and  your  little  friend  just  born.  This 
debt,  however,  not  having  been  can 
celled,  stood  against  me  as  heiress.' 
Hayward's  Ptozzi,  ii.  57.  '  Aug.  22, 
1782.  My  lawsuit  with  Lady  Salus 
bury  turns  out  worse  in  the  event 
and  infinitely  more  costly  than  I 
could  have  dreamed  on ;  ^8,000  is 
supposed  necessary  to  the  payment 
of  it.'  Ib.  \.  169.  'Jan.  29,  1783. 
I  told  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Crutchley 
three  days  ago  .  .  .  that  I  would  go 
and  live  in  a  little  way  at  Bath  till 
I  had  paid  all  my  debts  and  cleared 
my  income.  ...  I  may  in  six  or 
seven  years  be  freed  from  all  in- 
cumbrances,  and  carry  a  clear  income 
of  ,£2500  a  year  and  an  estate  of 
^500  in  land  to  the  man  of  my 
heart.'  Ib.  i.  195. 

1  'Dec.  i.  1782.  The  guardians 
have  met  upon  the  scheme  of  putting 
our  girls  in  Chancery.  I  was  frighted 
at  the  project,  not  doubting  but  the 
Lord  Chancellor  would  stop  us  from 
leaving  England,  as  he  would  cer 
tainly  see  no  joke  in  three  young 
heiresses,  his  ward,  quitting  the  king 
dom  to  frisk  away  with  their  mother 
into  Italy.  .  .  .  Nobody  much  ap 


plauded  my  resolution  in  going,  but 
Johnson  and  Cator  said  they  would 
not  concur  in  stopping  me  by  violence. 
.  .  .  Jan.  29,  1783.  I  told  Dr.  John 
son  and  Mr.  Crutchley  three  days 
ago  that  I  had  determined— seeing 
them  so  averse  to  it— that  I  would 
not  go  abroad.'  Ib.  i.  192-195. 

2  See  ante,  p.  37,  where  he  re 
corded  in  1766  that  he  had  that  year 
persisted  in  the  habit  of  early  rising, 
till  'I  went  to  Mr.  Thrale's ;  the 
irregularity  of  that  family  broke  my 
habit  of  rising.'  As  for  his  call  on 
her  servants  she  herself  has  said, 
'Dr.  Johnson  on  his  own  part  re 
quired  less  attendance,  sick  or  well, 
than  ever  I  saw  any  human  crea 
ture.'  Ante,  p.  329. 

According  to  Baretti :  '  he  wanted 
nothing  else  from  her  servants  than 
to  be  shaved  once  in  three  days,  as 
he  was  almost  beardless  ;  and  as  for 
her  carriage  never  once  during  the 
whole  time  of  their  acquaintance 
did  he  borrow,  much  less  command 
it,  for  any  purpose  of  his  own.  .  .  . 
During  his  acquaintance  with  the 
Thrale  family  he  got  the  habit  of 
rising  as  early  as  other  folks,  nor 
ever  made  Mr.  Thrale  stay  a  single 
moment  for  his  breakfast,  knowing 
that  his  business  called  him  away 
about  ten  o'clock  every  morning.' 
Croker's  Boswell,  ed.  1844,  x.  36. 
Baretti  left  Streatham  in  June,  I77^> 
breakfast 


A  necdotes.  341 


breakfast  for  him  till  the  bell  rung  for  dinner,  though  much  dis 
pleased  if  the  toilet  was  neglected,  and  though  much  of  the  time 
we  passed  together  was  spent  in  blaming  or  deriding,  very  justly, 
my  neglect  of  ceconomy,  and  waste  of  that  money  which  might 
eiake  many  families  happy.  The  original  reason  of  our  connec 
tion,  his  particularly  disordered  health  and  spirits,  had  been  long 
at  an  end  r,  and  he  had  no  other  ailments  than  old  age  and 
general  infirmity 2,  which  every  professor  of  medicine  was  ardently 
zealous  and  generally  attentive  to  palliate,  and  to  contribute 
all  in  their  power  for  the  prolongation  of  a  life  so  valuable. 
Veneration  for  his  virtue,  reverence  for  his  talents,  delight  in  his 
conversation,  and  habitual  endurance  of  a  yoke  my  husband  first 
put  upon  me,  and  of  which  he  contentedly  bore  his  share  for 
sixteen  or  seventeen  years,  made  me  go  on  so  long  with  Mr. 
Johnson ;  but  the  perpetual  confinement  I  will  own  to  have  been 
terrifying  in  the  first  years  of  our  friendship,  and  irksome  in  the 
V  last ;  nor  could  I  pretend  to  support  it  without  help,  when  my 
coadjutor  was  no  more 3.  To  the  assistance  we  gave  him,  the 
shelter  our  house  afforded  to  his  uneasy  fancies,  and  to  the 
pains  we  took  to  sooth  or  repress  them,  the  world  perhaps  is 
indebted  for  the  three  political  pamphlets  4,  the  new  edition  and 
correction  of  his  Dictionary,  and  for  the  Poets'  Lives,  which  he 
would  scarce  have  lived,  I  think,  and  kept  his  faculties  entire,  to 
have  written,  had  not  incessant  care  been  exerted  at  the  time  of 

having  lived  with   the  Thrales  five  2  Her  readers  would  hardly  infer 

years   and   a  half.     Letters,  \.  403,  that  he  had  had  a  stroke  of  palsy, 

n.6.  He  cannot  therefore  speak  of  the  a  dangerous  sarcocele,  asthma,  and 

time  after  Mr.  Thrale's  death.     The  dropsy. 

cheerfulness  of  the   Streatham  life  3  Boswell,   quoting  this   passage, 

during  the  life-time  of  its  master  is  continues :—' Alas!   how  different  is 

shown  in  Miss  Burney's  Diaries.  this  from  the  declarations  which  I 

1  Ante,  p.  234.    What  had  come  have   heard   Mrs.  Thrale  make   in 

to  an  end  was  the  life  of  Mr.  Thrale  his  life-time,  without  a  single  mur- 

who,  perhaps  chiefly  from  compas-  mur    against    any    peculiarities,    or 

sion,  had  at  first  made  Johnson  an  against  any  one  circumstance  which 

inmate  of  his  house,  but  who  came  attended    their    intimacy.'      Jb.  iv. 

to  take  so  much  delight  in  his  com-  340. 

pany  that,  as  his  wife  said,  '  he  would  4  He    wrote    four  political   pam- 

go  no -where  that  he  could  help  with-  phlets. 
out  him.'     Life,  iii.  28,  n. 

his 


342  Anecdotes. 


his  first  coming  to  be  our  constant  guest  in  the  country;  and 
several  times  after  that,  when  he  found  himself  particularly  op 
pressed  with  diseases  incident  to  the  most  vivid  and  fervent 
imaginations.  I  shall  for  ever  consider  it  as  the  greatest  honour 
which  could  be  conferred  on  any  one,  to  have  been  the  con 
fidential  friend  of  Dr.  Johnson's  health ;  and  to  have  in  some 
measure,  with  Mr.  Thrale's  assistance,  saved  from  distress  at 
least,  if  not  from  worse,  a  mind  great  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  common  mortals,  and  good  beyond  all  hope  of  imitation  from 
perishable  beings  *. 

Many  of  our  friends  were  earnest  that  he  should  write  the  lives 
of  our  famous  prose  authors  ;  but  he  never  made  any  answer 
that  I  can  recollect  to  the  proposal,  excepting  when  Sir  Richard 
Musgrave  once  was  singularly  warm  about  it,  getting  up  and 
intreating  him  to  set  about  the  work  immediately;  he  coldly 
replied, '  Sit  down.  Sir 2  / ' 

When  Mr.  Thrale  built  the  hew  library  at  Streatham,  and  hung 
up  over  the  books  the  portraits  of  his  favourite  friends,  that  of 
Dr.  Johnson  was  last  finished,  and  closed  the  number  3.  It  was 

1  Writing  of  him  and  her  mother  3  'The  whole  of  them  were  sold  by 
she  says: — 'excellent   as  they  both  auction  in  the  spring  of  1816.    Ac- 
were,  far  beyond  the  excellence   of  cording    to    Mrs.    Piozzi's    marked 
any  other  man  and  woman  I  ever  catalogue  they  fetched  the  following 
yet  saw.'     A nte,  p.  235.  prices: — Lord  Sandys, ^36. 15  ;  Lord 

2  Miss  Burney  describes  Musgrave  Lyttelton    [W.   H.   Lyttelton,   after- 
as  '  a  caricature  of  Mr.  Boswell,  who  is  wards  Lord  Westcote],  ^43.  I  ;  Mrs, 
a  caricature  of  all  others  of  Dr.  John-  Piozzi  and  her  daughter,   ^81.  18; 
son's  admirers.  .  .  .  The  incense  he  Goldsmith  (duplicate  of  the  original), 
paid    Dr.   Johnson   by  his    solemn  ^133.  7;   Sir  J.  Reynolds,  ^128.  2; 
manner  of  listening,  by  the  earnest  Sir  R.  Chambers,  ^84 ;    David  Gar- 
reverence  with  which  he  eyed  him,  rick,   .£183.    15;    Baretti,   ^31.  10; 
and  by  a  theatric  start  of  admiration  Dr.  Burney,  ^84 ;    Edmund  Burke, 
every  time  he  spoke,  joined  to  the  ^252  ;    Dr.   Johnson,  ^378  ;    "  Mr. 
Doctor's    utter    insensibility   to    all  Murphy  was  offered  .£102.  18,  but  I 
these  tokens,  made  me  find  infinite  bought  it  in." '     Hayvvard's  Piozzi, 
difficulty    in    keeping    my    counte-  ii.    171.      'In   1780,'   continues   Mr. 
nance.'      Mme.    D'Arblay's  Diary,  Hay  ward,  '  Reynolds  raised  the  price 
ii.  84.  of  his  portraits  (three-quarter  size) 

He  published  in  1802  Memoirs  of  from  thirty-five  to  fifty  guineas,  which, 
the  Rebellions  in  Ireland.  Mrs.  Piozzi  complains,  made  the 

almost 


Anecdotes.  343 


almost  impossible  not  to  make  verses  on  such  an  accidental 
combination  of  circumstances,  so  I  made  the  following  ones :  but 
as  a  character  written  in  verse  will  for  the  most  part  be  found 
imperfect  as  a  character,  I  have  therefore  written  a  prose  one, 
with  which  I  mean,  not  to  complete,  but  to  conclude  these 
Anecdotes  of  the  best  and  wisest  man  that  ever  came  within  the 
reach  of  my  personal  acquaintance,  and  I  think  I  might  venture 
to  add,  that  of  all  or  any  of  my  readers : 

Gigantic  in  knowledge,  in  virtue,  in  strength, 

Our  company  closes  with  JOHNSON  at  length; 

So  the  Greeks  from  the  cavern  of  Polypheme  past, 

When  wisest,  and  greatest,  Ulysses  came  last. 

To  his  comrades  contemptuous,  we  see  him  look  down, 

On  their  wit  and  their  worth  with  a  general  frown. 

Since  from  Science'  proud  tree  the  rich  fruit  he  receives, 

Who  could  shake  the  whole  trunk  while  they  turn'd  a  few  leaves. 

His  piety  pure,  his  morality  nice — 

Protector  of  virtue,  and  terror  of  vice ; 

In  these  features  Religion's  firm  champion  display'd, 

Shall  make  infidels  fear  for  a  modern  crusade. 

While  th'  inflammable  temper,  the  positive  tongue, 

Too  conscious  of  right  for  endurance  of  wrong, 

We  suffer  from  JOHNSON,  contented  to  find, 

That  some  notice  we  gain  from  so  noble  a  mind ; 

And  pardon  our  hurts,  since  so  often  we've  found 

The  balm  of  instruction  pour'd  into  the  wound. 

'Tis  thus  for  its  virtues  the  chemists  extol 

Pure  rectified  spirit,  sublime  alcohol; 

From  noxious  putrescence,  preservative  pure, 

A  cordial  in  health,  and  in  sickness  a  cure; 

But  expos'd  to  the  sun,  taking  fire  at  his  rays, 

Burns  bright  to  the  bottom,  and  ends  in  a  blaze. 

It  is  usual,  I   know  not  why,  when  a  character  is  given,  to 
begin  with  a  description  of  the  person  ;  that  which  contained  the 

Streatham  portraits  in  many  instances  in   1773   (Leslie,  and  Taylor's  Rey- 

cost  more  than  they  fetched,  as  she  nolds,  i.   507,   523),  and   Baretti   in 

had  to  pay  for  them  after  Mr.  Thrale's  1774   (ib.   ii.   76).   Leslie   says   that 

death  at  the  increased  price.'  '  the  portrait  of  Baretti  is  among  the 

Only  three  of  the  portraits  fetched  finest  Reynolds  ever  painted.' 
less    than    fifty    guineas  —  those    of          For  the  library  at  Streatham  see 

W.  H.  Lyttelton,  Sandys  and  Baretti.  ante,  p.  109,  and  Life,  iv.  158. 
Lyttelton  was  painted  in  1772,  Sandys 

soul 


344 


Anecdotes. 


soul  of  Mr.  Johnson  deserves  to  be  particularly  described  x.  His 
stature  was  remarkably  high,  and  his  limbs  exceedingly  large : 
his  strength  was  more  than  common  I  believe,  and  his  activity 
had  been  greater  I  have  heard  than  such  a  form  gave  one 
reason  to  expect :  his  features  were  strongly  marked,  and  his 
countenance  particularly  rugged  ;  though  the  original  complexion 
had  certainly  been  fair,  a  circumstance  somewhat  unusual :  his 
sight  was  near,  and  otherwise  imperfect ;  yet  his  eyes,  though  of 
a  light-grey  colour,  were  so  wild,  so  piercing,  and  at  times  so 
fierce,  that  fear  was  I  believe  the  first  emotion  in  the  hearts  of 
all  his  beholders.  His  mind  was  so  comprehensive,  that  no 
language  but  that  he  used  could  have  expressed  its  contents ; 
and  so  ponderous  was  his  language,  that  sentiments  less  lofty 
and  less  solid  than  his  were,  would  have  been  encumbered,  not 
adorned  by  it. 

Mr.  Johnson  was  not  intentionally  however  a  pompous  con- 
verser ;  and  though  he  was  accused  of  using  big  words  as  they 
are  called,  it  was  only  when  little  ones  would  not  express  his 
meaning  as  clearly,  or  when  perhaps  the  elevation  of  the  thought 
would  have  been  disgraced  by  a  dress  less  superb 2.  He  used  to 


1  In  her  Thraliana  she  records : — 
*  One  evening  as  I  was  giving  my 
tongue  liberty  to  praise  Mr.  John 
son  to  his  face,  a  favour  he  would  not 
often  allow  me,  he  said,  in  high  good 
humour,  "  Come,  you  shall  draw  up 
my  character  your  own  way,  and 
shew  it  me,  that  I  may  see  what  you 
will  say  of  me  when  I  am  gone." 
At  night  I  wrote  as  follows  :— (Here 
follows  the  character  in  the  text). 
When  I  shewed  him  his  Character 
next  day,  for  he  would  see  it,  he 
said,  "  It  was  a  very  fine  piece  of 
writing,  and  that  I  had  improved 
upon  Young"  who  he  saw  was  my 
model,  he  said,  "  for  my  flattery  was 
still  stronger  than  his,  and  yet,  some 
how  or  other,  less  hyperbolical." ' 
Hay  ward's  Piozzi,  ist  ed.  ii.  345. 

For  her  flattery  of  him  see  Life, 


ii.  349,  and  Letters,  i.  200,  220,  221 ; 
ii.  308,  and  for  Johnson's  person, 
Life,  i.  94  ;  iv.  425  ;  v.  18.  How  far 
Young  could  go  in  flattery  is  shown 
in  the  lines  where,  addressing  the 
Deity,  he  says : — 
'  'Tis  Thou  that  lead'st  our  pow'rful 

armies  forth, 
And  giv'st  Great  Anne  Thy  sceptre 

o'er  the  north.' 

The  Last  Day,  Book  ii. 
2  Boswell  told  Johnson  that '  Lord 
Monboddo  disapproved  of  the  rich 
ness  of  his  language,  and  of  his 
frequent  use  of  metaphorical  ex 
pressions.  JOHNSON.  "Why,  Sir, 
this  criticism  would  be  just,  if  in  my 
style,  superfluous  words,  or  words  too 
big  for  the 'thoughts,  could  be  pointed 
out ;  but  this  I  do  not  believe  can 
be  done.'"  Life,  iii.  173.  'Johnson 

say, 


Anecdotes.  345 

xsay,  'that  the  size  of  a  man's  understanding  might  always  be 
justly  measured  by  his  mirth ; '  and  his  own  was  never  con 
temptible.  He  would  laugh  at  a  stroke  of  genuine  humour,  or 
"sudden  sally  of  odd  absurdity,  as  heartily  and  freely  as  I  ever 
yet  saw  any  man  ;  and  though  the  jest  was  often  such  as  few 
felt  besides  himself,  yet  his  laugh  was  irresistible,  and  was  ob 
served  immediately  to  produce  that  of  the  company,  not  merely 
from  the  notion  that  it  was  proper  to  laugh  when  he  did,  but 
purely  out  of  want  of  power  to  forbear  it l.  He  was  no  enemy 
to  splendour  of  apparel  or  pomp  of  equipage — '  Life  (he  would 
say)  is  barren  enough  surely  with  all  her  trappings  ;  let  us  there 
fore  be  cautious  how  we  strip  her 2.'  In  matters  of  still  higher 
moment  he  once  observed,  when  speaking  on  the  subject  of 
sudden  innovation, — *  He  who  plants  a  forest  may  doubtless  cut 
down  a  hedge ;  yet  I  could  wish  methinks  that  even  he  would 
wait  till  he  sees  his  young  plants  grow.' 

With  regard  to  common  occurrences  Mr.  Johnson  had,  when 
I  first  knew  him,  looked  on  the  still-shifting  scenes  of  life  3  till 
he  was  weary ;  for  as  a  mind  slow  in  its  own  nature,  or  unen 
lightened  by  information,  will  contentedly  read  in  the  same 

once    said    to    me,   in    a    pleasant  in  the  silence  of  the  night  seemed 

humour,  "Sir,  if  Robertson's  style  be  to  resound  from  Temple  Bar  to  Fleet 

faulty,  he  owes  it  to  me ;   that  is,  Ditch.'     See  also  ante,  p.  269. 

having  too  many  words,  and  those  2  At  Inverary  Castle  he   said:— 

too  big  ones." '    Life,  Hi.  173.  'What  I   admire   here  is   the  total 

1  '  Garrick  remarked  to  me  of  him,  defiance  of  expense.'     Life,  v.  355. 

"Rabelais    and  all    other  wits  are  'Sir' (he  said),  'were  I  to  have  any 

nothing   compared  with   him.     You  thing  fine,   it  should   be   very  fine, 

may  be  diverted  by  them ;  but  John-  Were  I  to  wear  a  ring,  it  should  not 

son  gives  you  a  forcible   hug,  and  be  a  bauble,  but  a  stone  of  great 

shakes  laughter  out  of  you  whether  value.    Were  I  to  wear  a  laced  or 

you  will  or  no."'     Ib.  ii.  231.     'I  embroidered  waistcoat,  it  should  be 

passed  many  hours  with  him  on  the  very  rich.     I  had  once  a  very  rich 

1 7th,  of  which  I  find  all  my  me-  laced  waistcoat,  which  I    wore  the 

morial    is    "much    laughing."       It  first   night  of  my  tragedy.'      Ib.  v. 

should  seem  he  had  that  day  been  364. 

in  a  humour  for  jocularity  and  merri-  3  '  Remark  each  anxious  toil,  each 

ment,   and   upon   such  occasions   I  eager  strife, 

never    knew    a    man    laugh    more  And  watch  the  busy  scenes  of 

heartily.'     Ib.  ii.  378.     See  also  ib.  crowded  life.' 

ii.  262,  for  his  peals  of  laughter  '  that  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,  1.  3. 

book 


346  A  necdotes. 


book  for  twenty  times  perhaps,  the  very  act  of  reading  it  being 
more  than  half  the  business,  and  every  period  being  at  every 
reading  better  understood  ;  while  a  mind  more  active  or  more 
skilful  to  comprehend  its  meaning  is  made  sincerely  z  sick  at  the 
second  perusal ;  so  a  soul  like  his,  acute  to  discern  the  truth, 
vigorous  to  embrace,  and  powerful  to  retain  it,  soon  sees  enough 
of  the  world's  dull  prospect,  which  at  first,  like  that  of  the  sea, 
pleases  by  its  extent,  but  soon,  like  that  too,  fatigues  from  its 
uniformity  ;  a  calm  and  a  storm  being  the  only  variations  that 
the  nature  of  either  will  admit. 

Of  Mr.  Johnson's  erudition  the  world  has  been  the  judge,  and 
we  who  produce  each  a  score  of  his  sayings,  as  proofs  of  that  wit 
which  in  him  was  inexhaustible,  resemble  travellers  who  having 
visited  Delhi  or  Golconda,  bring  home  each  a  handful  of  Oriental 
pearl  to  evince  the  riches  of  the  Great  Mogul.  May  the  Public 
condescend  to  accept  my  ill-strung  selection  with  patience  at 
least,  remembering  only  that  they  are  relics  of  him  who  was 
great  on  all  occasions,  and,  like  a  cube  in  architecture,  you  beheld 
him  on  each  side,  and  his  size  still  appeared  undiminished. 

As  his  purse  was  ever  open  to  almsgiving  2,  so  was  his  heart 
tender  to  those  who  wanted  relief,  and  his  soul  susceptible  of 
gratitude,  and  of  every  kind  impression;  yet  though  he  had 
refined  his  sensibility,  he  had  not  endangered  his  quiet,  by 
encouraging  in  himself  a  solicitude  about  trifles,  which  he  treated 
with  the  contempt  they  deserve. 

It  was  well  enough  known  before  these  sheets  were  published, 
that  Mr.  Johnson  had  a  roughness  in  his  manner  which  subdued 
the  saucy,  and  terrified  the  meek 3 :  this  was,  when  I  knew  him, 
the  prominent  part  of  a  character  which  few  durst  venture 
to  approach  so  nearly;  and  which  was  for  that  reason  in 
many  respects  grossly  and  frequently  mistaken ;  and  it  was 
perhaps  peculiar  to  him,  that  the  lofty  consciousness  of  his  own 

1  I  know  no  other  instance  of  this  young,  he   never  attacked   the  un- 
strange  use  of  sincerely.  assuming,  nor  meant  to  terrify  the 

2  Ante,  p.  204.  diffident.'     iMme.  D'Arblay's  Diary t 

3  '  He  was  always  indulgent  to  the  ii.  343. 

superiority^ 


Anecdotes.  347 


superiority,  which  animated  his  looks,  and  raised  his  voice  in  con 
versation  r,  cast  likewise  an  impenetrable  veil  over  him  when  he 
said  nothing.  His  talk  therefore  had  commonly  the  complexion 
of  arrogance,  his  silence 2  of  superciliousness.  He  was  however 
seldom  inclined  to  be  silent  when  any  moral  or  literary  question 
was  started :  and  it  was  on  such  occasions,  that,  like  the  sage  in 
Rasselas,  he  spoke,  and  attention  watched  his  lips  ;  he  reasoned, 
and  conviction  closed  his  periods  3 :  if  poetry  was  talked  of,  his 
quotations  were  the  readiest ;  and  had  he  not  been  eminent  for 
more  solid  and  brilliant  qualities,  mankind  would  have  united 
to  extol  his  extraordinary  memory4.  His  manner  of  repeating 
deserves  to  be  described,  though  at  the  same  time  it  defeats  all 
power  of  description  ;  but  whoever  once  heard  him  repeat  an  ode 
of  Horace,  would  be  long  before  they  could  endure  to  hear  it 
repeated  by  another 5. 

His  equity  in  giving  the  character  of  living  acquaintance6 
ought  not  undoubtedly  to  be  omitted  in  his  own,  whence  par 
tiality  and  prejudice  were  totally  excluded,  and  truth  alone 
presided  in  his  tongue :  a  steadiness  of  conduct  the  more  to  be 
commended,  as  no  man  had  stronger  likings  or  aversions.  His 

1  Miss  Hawkins  (Memoirs,  i.  79),  dotes]  descriptive  of  Johnson's  con- 
says  that  *  Mrs.  Piozzi  [Mrs.  Thrale,  versation  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  written  :— 
she  should  have  said],  when  living  "  We  used  to  say  to  one  another 
much  with  Johnson,  had  his  tones,  familiarly  at  Streatham  Park,  Come, 
which  sat  very  ill  on  her  little  French  let  us  go  into  the  library,  and  make 
person.'  Johnson  speak  Ramblers.'"  Hay- 

3  *  Having  taken  the  liberty,  this  ward's  Piozzi,  i.  297. 

evening,  to  remark  to  Dr.  Johnson,  4  Life,  i.  39;  Hi.  318,  n.  I. 

that  he  very  often  sat  quite  silent  for  5  '  His  recitation  was   grand  and 

a  long  time,  even  when  in  company  affecting,  and,  as  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 

with  only  a  single   friend,  which  I  has  observed   to  me,  had  no  more 

myself    had    sometimes    sadly    ex-  tone  than  it  should  have.'    Ib.  v.  115. 

perienced,  he  smiled  and  said,  "It  is  '  His  manner  of  reciting  verses  was 

true,  Sir.     Tom  Tyers  described  me  wonderfully   impressive.'     Murphy's 

the  best.     He  once  said  to  me,  '  Sir,  Johnson,  p.  145.      See  post  in  Anec- 

you  are  like  a  ghost :  you  never  speak  dotes  of  W.  Cooke. 

till  you  are  spoken  to.'  "  '   Life,  v.  73.  6  *  The  person  with  whom  we  are 

See  also  ib.  iii.  307,  and  ante,  p.  290.  acquainted.     In  this  sense  the  plural 

3  Rasselas,  chap.  xvii.     This  pas-  is  in   some   authours   acquaintance, 

sage  is  quoted  in  the  Life,  iv.  346.  in  others  acquaintances'     Johnson's 

'  Opposite  a  passage  [in  the  Ante-  Dictionary. 

veracity 


348 


A  necdotes. 


veracity  was  indeed,  from  the  most  trivial  to  the  most  solemn 
occasions,  strict,  even  to  seventy;  he  scorned  to  embellish 
a  story  with  fictitious  circumstances,  which  (he  used  to  say)  took 
off  from  its  real  value.  'A  story  (says  Johnson)  should  be 
a  specimen  of  life  and  manners  ;  but  if  the  surrounding  circum 
stances  are  false,  as  it  is  no  more  a  representation  of  reality,  it  is 
no  longer  worthy  our  attention  '.' 

For  the  rest — That  beneficence  which  during  his  life  increased 
the  comforts  of  so  many,  may  after  his  death  be  perhaps 
ungratefully  forgotten  ;  but  that  piety  which  dictated  the  serious 
papers  in  the  Rambler,  will  be  for  ever  remembered  ;  for  ever, 
I  think,  revered.  That  ample  repository  of  religious  truth, 
moral  wisdom,  and  accurate  criticism,  breathes  indeed  the 
genuine  emanations  of  its  great  Author's  mind,  expressed  too  in 
a  style  so  natural  to  him,  and  so  much  like  his  common  mode  of 
conversing  2,  that  I  was  myself  but  little  astonished  when  he  told 
me,  that  he  had  scarcely  read  over  one  of  those  inimitable 
essays  before  they  went  to  the  press 3. 

I  will  add  one  or  two  peculiarities  more,  before  I  lay  down  my 
pen. Though  at  an  immeasurable  distance  from  content  in 


1  'Johnson   said,   "The  value  of 
every   story  depends  on    its    being 
true.    A  story  is  a  picture  either  of 
an   individual  or  of  human   nature 
in  general ;  if  it  be  false,  it  is  a  pic 
ture    of   nothing.       For    instance  : 
suppose    a    man    should    tell    that 
Johnson,  before  setting  out  for  Italy, 
as  he  had  to   cross   the  Alps,   sat 
down  to  make  himself  wings.     This 
many  people  would  believe ;    but  it 
would    be    a    picture    of    nothing. 
*******  used   to   think  a   story, 
a  story,  till  I  shewed  him  that  truth 
was   essential   to   it.'     Life,  ii.  433. 
See  ante,  p.  225. 

2  '  I  could  not  help  remarking  how 
very  like  Dr.  Johnson  is  to  his  writing, 
and  how  much  the  same  thing  it  was 
to  hear  or  to  read  him ;  but  that  no 
body  could  tell  that  without  coming 


to  Streatham,  for  his  language  was 
generally  imagined  to  be  laboured 
and  studied,  instead  of  the  mere 
common  flow  of  his  thoughts.  "  Very 
true,"  said  Mrs.  Thrale,  "  he  writes 
and  talks  with  the  same  ease,  and  in 
the  same  manner."  '  Mme.  D'Ar- 
blay's  Diary,  i.  120. 

3  'He  told  us,  "almost  all  his 
Ramblers  were  written  just  as  they 
were  wanted  for  the  press ;  that 
he  sent  a  certain  portion  of  the 
copy  of  an  essay,  and  wrote  the 
remainder,  while  the  former  part  of  it 
was  printing.  When  it  was  wanted, 
and  he  had  fairly  sat  down  to  it,  he 
was  sure  it  would  be  done." '  Life, 
iii.  42.  He  carefully  revised  them 
for  the  collected  edition.  Ib.  i.  203, 
n.  6. 

the 


Anecdotes. 


349 


the  contemplation  of  his  own  uncouth  form  and  figure,  he  did 
not  like  another  man  much  the  less  for  being  a  coxcomb  x. 
I  mentioned  two  friends  who  were  particularly  fond  of  looking 
at  themselves  in  a  glass — '  They  do  not  surprise  me  at  all  by  so 
doing  (said  Johnson) :  they  see,  reflected  in  that  glass,  men  who 
have  risen  from  almost  the  lowest  situations  in  life ;  one  to 
enormous  riches,  the  other  to  every  thing  this  world  can  give — 
rank,  fame,  and  fortune.  They  see  likewise,  men  who  have 
merited  their  advancement  by  the  exertion  and  improvement  of 
those  talents  which  God  had  given  them ;  and  I  see  not  why 
they  should  avoid  the  mirror  2.J 

The  other  singularity  I  promised  to  record,  is  this :  That 
though  a  man  of  obscure  birth  himself,  his  partiality  to  people  of 
family  was  visible  on  every  occasion  ;  his  zeal  for  subordination 
warm  even  to  bigotry 3 ;  his  hatred  to  innovation  4,  and  reverence 


1  *  Johnson  said  foppery  was  never 
cured ;   it   was  the   bad  stamina  of 
the   mind,  which  like  those  of  the 
body  were  never  rectified,  once  a 
coxcomb,   and   always   a  coxcomb.' 
Life,  ii.  128. 

2  The    first   of  these   men,    Mrs. 
Piozzi   says,   was   John   Cator,    one 
of  her  husband's  executors,  and  the 
second  Alexander  Wedderburne,  Lord 
Loughborough  and  Earl  of  Rosslyn. 
Hayward's    Piozzi,    i.    296.     Cator, 
likely  enough,   was  the   man   men 
tioned  in  the  following  passage: — 
1  Mrs.  Thrale  mentioned  a  gentleman 
who  had  acquired  a  fortune  of  four 
thousand  a  year  in  trade,  but  was 
absolutely    miserable,    because    he 
could    not    talk    in    company  ;     so 
miserable,  that   he  was  impelled  to 
lament  his  situation  in  the  street  to 
******  [?  Seward],  whom  he  hates, 
and   who   he   knows   despises   him. 
"  I  am  a  most  unhappy  man  (said 
he).     I  am  invited  to  conversations. 
I  go  to  conversations  ;  but,  alas  !   I 
have   no  conversation."     JOHNSON. 
"  Man   commonly    cannot    be    suc 


cessful  in  different  ways.  This 
gentleman  has  spent,  in  getting  four 
thousand  pounds  a  year,  the  time  in 
which  he  might  have  learnt  to  talk  ; 
and  now  he  cannot  talk."  Mr.  Per 
kins  made  a  shrewd  and  droll  re 
mark  :  "  If  he  had  got  his  four 
thousand  a  year  as  a  mountebank,  he 
might  have  learnt  to  talk  at  the  same 
time  that  he  was  getting  his  fortune."  ' 
Life,  iv.  83.  For  a  specimen  of  his 
talk  see  Letters,  ii.  217,  n.  i. 

Of  Wedderburne's  rise  Boswell 
says:— 'When  1  look  back  on  this 
noble  person  at  Edinburgh,  in  situa 
tions  so  unworthy  of  his  brilliant 
powers,  and  behold  LORD  LOUGH- 
BOROUGH  at  London,  the  change 
seems  almost  like  one  of  the  meta 
morphoses  in  (..  vid?  Life,  i.  387. 

3  '  I  heard  Dr.  Johnson  once  say, 
"  I  have  great  merit  in  being  zealous 
for  subordination  and  the  honours  of 
birth ;  for  I  can  hardly  tell  who  was 
my  grandfather."  '     Ib.  ii.  261. 

4  '  He  said  to  Sir  William  Scott, 
"  The  age  is  running  mad  after  inno 
vation  ;  all  the  business  of  the  world 

for 


350 


Anecdotes. 


for  the  old  feudal  times *,  apparent,  whenever  any  possible 
manner  of  shewing  them  occurred.  I  have  spoken  of  his  piety, 
his  charity,  and  his  truth,  the  enlargement  of  his  heart,  and 
the  delicacy  of  his  sentiments ;  and  when  I  search  for  shadow 
to  my  portrait,  none  can  I  find  but  what  was  formed  by  pride, 
differently  modified  as  different  occasions  shewed  it ;  yet  never  was 
pride  so  purified  as  Johnson's,  at  once  from  meanness  and  from 
vanity.  The  mind  of  this  man  was  indeed  expanded  beyond  the 
common  limits  of  human  nature,  and  stored  with  such  variety  of 
knowledge,  that  I  used  to  think  it  resembled  a  royal  pleasure- 
ground,  where  every  plant,  of  every  name  and  nation,  flourished 
in  the  full  perfection  of  their  powers,  and  where,  though  lofty 
woods  and  falling  cataracts  first  caught  the  eye,  and  fixed  the 
earliest  attention  of  beholders,  yet  neither  the  trim  parterre  nor 
the  pleasing  shrubbery,  nor  even  the  antiquated  ever-greens,  were 
denied  a  place  in  some  fit  corner  of  the  happy  valley. 


is  to  be  done  in  a  new  way ;  men  are 
to  be  hanged  in  a  new  way ;  Tyburn 
itself  is  not  safe  from  the  fury  of 
innovation.'"  Life,  iv.  188. 

1  Johnson,  had  he  read  this,  might 
have  reproached  Mrs.  Piozzi,  as  he 
reproached  the  Earl  of  Chatham, 
with  'feudal  gabble.'  Ib.  ii.  134,  n. 
1 1  said,'  writes  Boswell,  '  I  believed 
mankind  were  happier  in  the  ancient 
feudal  state  of  subordination,  than 
they  are  in  the  modern  state  of 


independency.  JOHNSON.  "To  be 
sure,  the  Chief  was :  but  we  must 
think  of  the  number  of  individuals. 
That  they  were  less  happy,  seems 
plain  ;  for  that  state  from  which  all 
escape  as  soon  as  they  can,  and  to 
which  none  return  after  they  have 
left  it,  must  be  less  happy  ;  and  this 
is  the  case  with  the  state  of  depen- 
dance  on  a  chief  or  great  man." ' 
Ib.  v.  106.  See  also  ib.  ii.  177;  iii.  3. 


POSTSCRIPT. 

Naples,  Feb.  10,  1786. 

SINCE  the  foregoing  went  to  the  press,  having  seen  a  passage 
from  Mr.  BoswelPs  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  in  which  it  is  said,  that 
/  could  not  get  through  Mrs.  Montagu's  Essay  on  Shakespeare, 
I  do  not  delay  a  moment  to  declare,  that,  on  the  contrary, 
I  have  always  commended  it  myself,  and  heard  it  commended 
by  every  one  else ;  and  few  things  would  give  me  more  concern 
than  to  be  thought  incapable  of  tasting,  or  unwilling  to  testify 
my  opinion  of  its  excellence  1. 

1 '  I  spoke  of  Mrs.  Montague's  very  it ;  for  neither  I,  nor  Beauclerk,  nor 

high  praises  of  Garrick.    JOHNSON.  Mrs.  Thrale  could  get  through  it."  ' 

"  Sir,  it  is  fit  she  should  say  so  much,  Life,  v.  245. 

and  I  should  say  nothing.    Reynolds  For  BoswelPs  reply  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's 

is  fond  of  her  book,  and  I  wonder  at  Postscript  see  ib.  n.  2. 


AN     ESSAY 


ON 


THE     LIFE    AND     GENIUS 


OF 


SAMUEL    JOHNSON,    LL.D. 

BY   ARTHUR   MURPHY,  ESQ.1 

[LONDON:    MDCCXCII.] 


1  '  For  this  slight  Essay  the  Booksellers  paid  Mr.  Murphy  ,£300.'    Nichols's 
Literary  Anecdotes,  ix.  159. 


VOL    I.  A  a 


E  SSA  Y 

ON 

JOHNSON'S    LIFE   AND    GENIUS 


WHEN  the  works  of  a  great  Writer,  who  has  bequeathed  to 
posterity  a  lasting  legacy,  are  presented  to  the  world,  it  is 
naturally  expected,  that  some  account  of  his  life  should  ac 
company  the  edition z.  The  Reader  wishes  to  know  as  much  as 
possible  of  the  Author.  The  circumstances  that  attended  him, 
the  features  of  his  private  character,  his  conversation,  and  the 
means  by  which  he  rose  to  eminence,  become  the  favourite 
objects  of  enquiry.  Curiosity  is  excited  ;  and  the  admirer  of  his 
works  is  eager  to  know  his  private  opinions,  his  course  of  study, 
the  particularities  of  his  conduct,  and,  above  all,  whether  he 
pursued  the  wisdom  which  he  recommends,  and  practised  the 
virtue  which  his  writings  inspire.  A  principle  of  gratitude  is 
awakened  in  every  generous  mind.  For  the  entertainment  and 
instruction  which  genius  and  diligence  have  provided  for  the 
world,  men  of  refined  and  sensible  tempers  are  ready  to  pay 
their  tribute  of  praise,  and  even  to  form  a  posthumous  friendship 
with  the  author. 

In  reviewing  the  life  of  such  a  writer,  there  is,  besides,  a  rule 
of  justice  to  which  the  publick  have  an  undoubted  claim.     Fond 
admiration   and   partial    friendship    should    not   be    suffered   to 
represent  his  virtues  with  exaggeration  ;  nor  should  malignity  be 
C    allowed,  under  a  specious  disguise,  to  magnify  mere  defects,  the 
\  usual  failings  of  human  nature,  into  vice  or  gross   deformity. 

1  Published  in  1792  in  12  volumes  octavo. 

A  a  3  The 


356 


Essay  on 


— The  lights  and  shades  of  the  character  should  be  given  ;  and,  if 
this  be  done  with  a  strict  regard  to  truth,  a  just  estimate  of 
Dr.  Johnson  will  afford  a  lesson  perhaps  as  valuable  as  the  moral 

v  doctrine  that  speaks  with  energy  in  every  page  of  his  works. 

The  present  writer  enjoyed  the  conversation  and  friendship  of 
that  excellent  man  more  than  thirty  years.  He  thought  it  an 
honour  to  be  so  connected,  and  to  this  hour  he  reflects  on  his 
loss  with  regret :  but  regret,  he  knows,  has  secret  bribes,  by 
which  the  judgement  may  be  influenced,  and  partial  affection 
may  be  carried  beyond  the  bounds  of  truth.  In  the  present 
case,  however,  nothing  needs  to  be  disguised,  and  exaggerated 
praise  is  unnecessary.  It  is  an  observation  of  the  younger  Pliny, 
in  his  Epistle  to  his  Friend  of  Tacitus  [sic],  that  history  ought 
never  to  magnify  matters  of  fact,  because  worthy  actions  require 
nothing  but  the  truth.  Nam  nee  historia  debet  egredi  veritatem, 
et  hones te  factis  veritas  stifficit z.  This  rule  the  present  bio 
grapher  promises  shall  guide  his  pen  throughout  the  following 
narrative. 


It  may  be  said,  the  death  of  Dr.  Johnson  kept  the  public 
mind  in  agitation  beyond  all  former  example2.  No  literary 
character  ever  excited  so  much  attention  ;  and,  when  the  press 
has  teemed  with  anecdotes,  apophthegms,  essays,  and  publications 
of  every  kind,  what  occasion  now  for  a  new  tract  on  the  same 
threadbare  subject 3  ?  The  plain  truth  shall  be  the  answer.  The 


1  Efiistolae^  vii.  33.  10. 

2  '  His     death,'     writes     Hannah 
More,    '  made    a    kind    of    era    in 
literature.'     Memoirs,  i.  394. 

Miss  Martineau  (Autobiography ', 
i.  438)  records  that  Miss  Berry,  who 
died  in  1852,  used  to  tell  'how  the 
world  of  literature  was  perplexed 
and  distressed — as  a  swarm  of  bees 
that  have  lost  their  queen— when 
Dr.  Johnson  died.' 

3  The  Rev.    Dr.   W.   Barrow,    <a 
coarse  north-countryman  but  a  very 
good  scholar,'  as  Boswell  described 


him,  to  whose  academy  in  Soho 
Square  he  sent  his  son  James  (Letters 
to  Temple,  p.  315),  wrote  on  Jan.  26, 
1786 :—'  The  reviews  and  papers  will 
tell  you  better  than  I  can  that  the 
booksellers  are  engaged  in  a  contest 
who  shall  publish  the  first  and  best 
edition  of  Johnson's  Dictionary,  and 
that  his  friends  are  running  a  race 
who  shall  be  foremost  in  giving,  or 
rather  selling,  to  the  world  some 
scrap  or  fragment  of  our  literary 
Leviathan — an  anecdote,  a  letter,  or 
a  character,  a  sermon,  a  prayer,  or 
proprietors 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


357 


proprietors  of  Johnson's  Works  thought  the  life,  which  they 
prefixed  to  their  former  edition,  too  unwieldy  for  republication T. 
/The  prodigious  variety  of  foreign  matter,  introduced  into  that 
|  performance,  seemed  to  overload  the  memory  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
x^and  in  the  account  of  his  own  life  to  leave  him  hardly  visible2. 
They  wished  to  have  a  more  concise,  and,  for  that  reason,  per 
haps  a  more  satisfactory  account,  such  as  may  exhibit  a  just 
picture  of  the  man,  and  keep  him  the  principal  figure  in  the  fore 
ground  of  his  own  picture.  To  comply  with  that  request  is  the 
design  of  this  essay,  which  the  writer  undertakes  with  a  trembling 
hand.  He  has  no  discoveries,  no  secret  anecdotes,  no  occasional 
controversy,  no  sudden  flashes  of  wit  and  humour,  no  private 
conversation,  and  no  new  facts  to  embellish  his  work.  Every 
thing  has  been  gleaned.  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  himself,  *  I  am  not 
uncandid,  nor  severe:  I  sometimes  say  more  than  I  mean,  in 
jest,  and  people  are  apt  to  think  me  serious  V  The  exercise  of 


a  bon-mot.'   Letters  of  Radcliffe  and 
James,  p.  266. 

Romilly   wrote    from   London   on  \ 
Aug.  20,  1790:— 'I  have  been  sur-\ 
prised,  and  I  own  a  little  indignant,  ] 
to    observe    how    little    impression  / 
Adam  Smith's  death  has  made  here./ 
Scarce  any  notice  has  been  taken  ofV 
it,  while  for  above  a  year  together, 
after  the  death  of  Dr.  Johnson,  no 
thing  was  to  be  heard  of  but  pane 
gyrics  of  him.     Lives,  Letters,  and 
Anecdotes,  and  even  at  this  moment 
there  are  two  more  Lives  of  him  about 
to  start   into  existence.'     Romilly's 
Memoirs,   i.   404.      The  two  Lives 
were  Boswell's  and  Murphy's. 

1  By  Sir  John  Hawkins.     It  was 
prefixed  to  an  edition  of  Johnson's 
Works  in  eleven  volumes,  published 
in  1787  at  ^3  6s. 

2  Boswell,  who  in  his  text  attacks 
Hawkins's  Life,  says   in  a  note: — 

Let  me  add,  that  though  I  doubt 
I  should  not  have  been  very  prompt 
K    to  gratify   Sir  John  Hawkins   with 
I    )  any  compliment  in  his  life-time,  I  do 


how  frankly  acknowledge,  that,  in 
my  opinion,  his  volume,  however  in 
adequate  and  improper  as  a  life  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  however  discredited 
by  unpardonable  inaccuracies  in 
other  respects,  contains  a  collection 
of  curious  anecdotes  and  obser 
vations,  which  few  men  but  its 
author  could  have  brought  together.' 
Life,  i.  27. 

3  '  A  friend  was  one  day,  about 
two  years  before  his  death,  struck 
with  some  instance  of  Dr.  Johnson's 
great  candour.  "Well,  Sir,  (said 
he,)  I  will  always  say  that  you  are 
a  very  candid  man."  "Will  you, 
(replied  the  Doctor,)  I  doubt  then 
you  will  be  very  singular.  But,  in 
deed,  Sir,  (continued  he,)  I  look  upon 
myself  to  be  a  man  very  much  mis 
understood.  I  am  not  an  uncandid, 
nor  am  I  a  severe  man.  I  sometimes 
say  more  than  I  mean,  in  jest ;  and 
people  are  apt  to  believe  me  serious : 
however,  I  am  more  candid  than 
I  was  when  I  was  younger." '  Life, 
iv.  239. 

that 


358  Essay  on 


that  privilege,  which  is  enjoyed  by  every  man  in  society,  has 
not  been  allowed  to  him.  His  fame  has  given  importance  even 
to  trifles,  and  the  zeal  of  his  friends  has  brought  every  thing  to 
light.  What  should  be  related,  and  what  should  not,  has  been 
published  without  distinction.  Dicenda  tacenda  locuti  * !  Every 
thing  that  fell  from  him  has  been  caught  with  eagerness  by  his 
admirers,  who,  as  he  says  in  one  of  his  letters,  have  acted  with 
the  diligence  of  spies  upon  his  conduct 2.  To  some  of  them  the 
following  lines,  in  Mallet's  Poem  on  Verbal  Criticism,  are  not 
inapplicable  : 

Such  that  grave  bird  in  Northern  seas  is  found, 
Whose  name  a  Dutchman  only  knows  to  sound3, 
Where-e'er  the  king  of  fish  moves  on  before, 
This  humble  friend  attends  from  shore  to  shore; 
With  eye  still  earnest,  and  with  bill  inclin'd  [declin'd], 
He  picks  up  what  his  patron  drops  behind, 
With  those  choice  cates  his  palate  to  regale, 
And  is  the  careful  TlBBALD  of  A  WHALE4. 

After  so  many  essays  and  volumes  of  Johnsonian  a,  what  remains 
for  the  present  writer  ?  Perhaps,  what  has  not  been  attempted  ; 
a  short,  yet  full,  a  faithful,  yet  temperate  history  of  Dr.  Johnson. 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON  was  born  at  Lichfield,  September  7,  1709, 
O.S.5  His  father,  Michael  Johnson,  was  a  bookseller  in  that 
city ;  a  man  of  large  athletic  make,  and  violent  passions  ; 
wrongheaded,  positive,  and  at  times  afflicted  with  a  degree  of 

1  *  Ut  ventum  ad  caenam  est,  di-      the  Strundt  Jager.     See  a  Collection 

cenda  tacenda  locutus,  of  Voyages  in  the  North!     Note  by 

Tandem  dormitum  dimittitur.'  MALLET.  '  Struntjager ;  Stercorarius 

'  Behold    him    now    at    supper,  Crepidatus ;      Richardson's     Strua.' 

where  he  said,  Dresser's  Birds  of  Europe,  vol. 

Or  right  or  wrong,  what  came  viii. 

into  his  head/  4  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,  by 

Francis's  Horace,  Epis.  i.  7.  72.  David  Mallet.  London,  1743,  p.  184. 

2  'You    never    told    me,    and    I  Lewis  Theobald,  or  Tibbald  as  his 
omitted  to  enquire,   how   you   were  name  was  pronounced,  was  the  in- 
entertained    by    Boswell's    Journal.  genious  editor  of  Shakespeare,  most 
One  would  think  the  man  had  been  unjustly   libelled   by   a    far    inferior 
hired  to  be  a  spy  upon  me.'    Letters,  editor  Pope. 

i.  330.  5  September   18,    N.  S.    Ante,  p. 

3  'This  remarkable  bird  is  called       129. 

melancholy, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  359 

melancholy,  little  short  of  madness x.  His  mother  was  sister  to 
Dr.  Ford,  a  practising  physician,  and  father  of  Cornelius  Ford, 
generally  known  by  the  name  of  PARSON  FORD,  the  same  who 
is  represented  near  the  punch-bowl  in  Hogarth's  Modern  Mid 
night  Conversation 2.  In  the  Life  of  Fenton,  Johnson  says,  that 
'his  abilities,  instead  of  furnishing  convivial  merriment  to  the 
voluptuous  and  dissolute,  might  have  enabled  him  to  excel 
among  the  virtuous  and  the  wise.'  Being  chaplain  to  the  Earl 
of  Chesterfield,  he  wished  to  attend  that  nobleman  on  his  embassy 
to  the  Hague.  Colley  Cibber  has  recorded  the  anecdote3. 
'You  should  go,'  said  the  witty  peer,  'if  to  your  many  vices 
you  would  add  one  more.'  '  Pray,  my  Lord,  what  is  that  ? ' 
'  Hypocrisy,  my  dear  Doctor/  Johnson  had  a  younger  brother 
named  Nathaniel,  who  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven  or  twenty- 
eight4.  Michael  Johnson,  the  father,  was  chosen  in  the  year 
1718  Under  Bailiff  of  Lichfield,  and  in  the  year  1725  he  served 
the  office  of  the  Senior  Bailiff5.  He  had  a  brother  of  the  name 
of  Andrew,  who,  for  some  years,  kept  the  ring  at  Smithfield, 
appropriated  to  wrestlers  and  boxers.  Our  author  used  to  say, 
that  he  was  never  thrown  or  conquered  6.  Michael,  the  father, 
died  December  1731,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six7 ;  his  mother  at 
eighty-nine,  of  a  gradual  decay,  in  the  year  1759.  Of  the  family 
nothing  more  can  be  related  worthy  of  notice.  Johnson  did  not 


1  Ante,  p.  148.  reproached  for  my  deficiency  that 

2  Ante,  p.  154.  way."  "True,"  replied  the  earl,  "but 

3  Murphy  probably  got  this  anec-  if  you  had   still   one  more,  almost 
dote  from  the  Monthly  Review,  1787,  worse  than  all  the  rest  put  together, 
p.  275,  where  it  is  assigned  to  Colley  it  would  hinder   these  from  giving 
Cibber.     I  do  not  think  that  it  is  in  scandal."  '      Jonathan   Richardson's 
his  Apology.  Richardsoniana,  p.  225. 

'  When  parson  Ford,  an  infamous  Chesterfield  was  minister  at  the 
fellow,   but   of  much   off-hand   and  Hague  from  172810  1732.  His  chap- 
conversation     wit,    besought     Lord  lain,  Richard  Chenevix,  was  after  - 
Chesterfield  to  carry  him  over  with  wards  Bishop  of  Waterford.  Chester- 
him  as  his  chaplain,  when  he  went  field's  Misc.  Works,  i.  91. 
ambassador  to  Holland,  he  said  to  4  He  was  born  in  1712,  and  died 
him,  "  I  would  certainly  take  you,  if  in  1737.     Life,  iv.  393,  n.  2. 
you  had  one   vice  more  than  you  5  Ib.  i.  36,  n.  4. 
already  have."      "My   lord,"    said  6  Ante,  p.  149. 
Fordj  "  I  thought  I  should  never  be  7  Seventy-five.     Life,  iv.  393,  n.  2. 

delight 


360 


Essay  on 


delight  in  talking  of  his  relations.     '  There  is  little  pleasure,'  he 
said  to  Mrs.  Piozzi,  '  in  relating  the  anecdotes  of  beggary  V 

Johnson  derived  from  his  parents,  or  from  an  unwholesome 
nurse,  the  distemper  called  the  King's  Evil.  The  Jacobites  at 
that  time  believed  in  the  efficacy  of  the  royal  touch ;  and  ac 
cordingly  Mrs.  Johnson  presented  her  son,  when  two  years  old, 
before  Queen  Anne,  who,  for  the  first  time,  performed  that  office, 
and  communicated  to  her  young  patient  all  the  healing  virtue 
in  her  power2.  He  was  afterwards  cut  for  that  scrophulous 
humour,  and  the  under  part  of  his  face  was  seamed  and  disfigured 
by  the  operation.  It  is  supposed,  that  this  disease  deprived  him 
of  the  sight  of  his  left  eye,  and  also  impaired  his  hearing.  At 
eight  years  old,  he  was  placed  under  Mr.  Hawkins,  at  the  Free- 
school  at  Lichfield,  wrhere  he  was  not  remarkable  for  diligence 
or  regular  application 3.  Whatever  he  read,  his  tenacious  memory 
made  his  own 4.  In  the  fields  with  his  school-fellows  he  talked 
more  to  himself  than  with  his  companions5.  In  1725,  when  he 
was  about  sixteen  years  old,  he  went  on  a  visit  to  his  cousin 
Cornelius  Ford,  who  detained  him  for  some  months,  and  in 
the  mean  time  assisted  him  in  the  classics.  The  general  direction 
for  his  studies,  which  he  then  received,  he  related  to  Mrs.  Piozzi. 


)  p.  148. 

2  Ante,  pp.  133,  152. 

3  Ante,  p.  138. 

4  In  theZz/<?  of  Johnson  published 
by  Kearsley,  said  to  be  written  by 
'  Conversation '  Cooke  (Nichols's  Lit. 
Hist.  vii.  467),  it  is  stated  (p.  107) 
that  Hawkesworth  read  his  Ode  on 
Life  to  Johnson,  '  and  asked  him  for 
his  opinion,  "  Why,  Sir,  (says  John 
son,)    I    can't  well  determine  on  a 
first   reading,   second   thoughts  are 
best."    Hawkesworth  complied,  after 
which  Johnson  read  it  himself  and 
returned  it.    Next  morning  at  break 
fast  Johnson  said  he  had  but  one 
objection  to  make  to  it,  which  was 
that     he     doubted     its     originality. 
Hawkesworth  alarmed  at  this  chal 


lenged  him  to  the  proof;  when  the 
Doctor  repeated  the  whole  of  the 
poem  with  only  the  omission  of  a 
very  few  lines.  "  What  do  you  say 
now,  Hawkey?"  says  the  Doctor. 
"  Only  this,"  replied  the  other,  "that 
I  shall  never  repeat  anything  I  write 
before  you  again,  for  you  have  a 
memory  that  would  convict  any 
author  of  plagiarism  in  any  court  of 
literature  in  the  world."  The  poem 
contains  68  lines.' 

5  '  Mr.  Hector  relates  that  "  he 
could  not  oblige  him  more  than  by 
sauntering  away  the  hours  of  vacation 
in  the  fields,  during  which  he  was 
more  engaged  in  talking  to  himself 
than  to  his  companion." '  Life,  i. 
48,  and  Hawkins's/^«^«,  p.  7. 

'  Obtain/ 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  361 

'  Obtain/  says  Ford,  '  some  general  principles  of  every  science : 
he  who  can  talk  only  on  one  subject,  or  act  only  in  one  de 
partment,  is  seldom  wanted,  and,  perhaps,  never  wished  for  ; 
while  the  man  of  general  knbwledge  can  often  benefit,  and 
always  please1.'  This  advice  Johnson  seems  to  have  pursued 
with  a  good  inclination.  His  reading  was  always  desultory, 
seldom  resting  on  any  particular  author,  but  rambling  from  one 
book  to  another,  and,  by  hasty  snatches,  hoarding  up  a  variety 
of  knowledge.  It  may  be  proper  in  this  place  to  mention  another 
general  rule  laid  down  by  Ford  for  Johnson's  future  conduct :. 
'  You  will  make  your  way  the  more  easily  in  the  world,  as  you 
are  contented  to  dispute  no  man's  claim  to  conversation-excel 
lence  :  they  will,  therefore,  more  willingly  allow  your  pretensions 
as  a  writer 2.'  '  But/  says  Mrs.  Piozzi, '  the  features  of  peculiarity, 
which  mark  a  character  to  all  succeeding  generations,  are  slow 
in  coming  to  their  growth.'  That  ingenious  lady  adds,  with  her 
usual  vivacity,  '  Can  one,  on  such  an  occasion,  forbear  recollecting 
the  predictions  of  Boileau's  father,  who  said,  stroking  the  head 
of  the  young  satirist,  "  this  little  man  has  too  much  wit,  but  he 
will  never  speak  ill  of  any  one  " 3  ?  ' 

On  Johnson's  return  from  Cornelius  Ford,  Mr.  Hunter,  then 
Master  of  the  Free-school  at  Lichfield,  refused  to  receive  him 
again  on  that  foundation  4.  At  this  distance  of  time,  what  his 
reasons  were,  it  is  vain  to  enquire :  but  to  refuse  assistance  to 
a  lad  of  promising  genius  must  be  pronounced  harsh  and  illiberal. 
It  did  not,  however,  stop  the  progress  of  the  young  student's 
education.  He  was  placed  at  another  school,  at  Stourbridge  in 
Worcestershire,  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Wentworth 5.  Having  gone 
through  the  rudiments  of  classic  literature,  he  returned  to  his 
father's  house,  and  was  probably  intended  for  the  trade  of 
a  bookseller.  He  has  been  heard  to  say  that  he  could  bind 

1  Ante,  p.  155.  3  According   to  Mrs.  Piozzi,  Boi- 

2  It  was   not  a  general  rule  laid  leau's  father  said  : — '  Ce  petit  bon 
down    by  Ford,    but    his    observa-  homme  n'a  point  trop  d'esprit/  &c. 
tion    of  Johnson's    character.      He  Ante,  p.  155. 

said :— '  You  will  make  your  way  the          4  Hawkins's  Johnson,  p.  8. 
more  easily  in  the  world,  /  see,'  &c.          5  Ante,  p.  159,  n.  3. 
Ante,  ib. 

a  book. 


362 


Essay  on 


a  book I.  At  the  end  of  two  years,  being  then  about  nineteen,  he 
went  to  assist  the  studies  of  a  young  gentleman,  of  the  name  of 
Corbet,  to  the  University  of  Oxford  ;  and  on  the  3ist  of  October, 
1728,  both  were  entered  of  Pembroke  College;  Corbet  as 
a  gentleman-commoner,  and  Johnson  as  a  commoner2.  The 
college  tutor,  Mr.  Jordan,  was  a  man  of  no  genius  ;  and  Johnson, 
it  seems,  shewed  an  early  contempt  of  mean  abilities,  in  one  or 
two  instances  behaving  with  insolence  to  that  gentleman  3.  Of 
his  general  conduct  at  the  university  there  are  no  particulars 
that  merit  attention,  except  the  translation  of  Pope's  Messiah, 
which  was  a  college  exercise  imposed  upon  him  as  a  task  by 
Mr.  Jordan4.  Corbet  left  the  university  in  about  two  years,  and 
Johnson's  salary  ceased  5.  He  was,  by  consequence,  straitened 
in  his  circumstances  ;  but  he  still  remained  at  college.  Mr.  Jor 
dan,  the  tutor,  went  off  to  a  living ;  and  was  succeeded  by 
Dr.  Adams,  who  afterwards  became  head  of  the  college,  and  was 
esteemed  through  life  for  his  learning,  his  talents,  and  his  amiable 
character.  Johnson  grew  more  regular  in  his  attendance.  Ethics, 
theology,  and  classic  literature  were  his  favourite  studies  6.  He 


1  Life,  i.  56,  n.  2  ;  Letters,  ii.  89. 

2  Corbet    had  entered    the    year 
before.     Life,  i.  58,  n.  i. 

3  Ante,  p.  164.     '  He  had  a  love 
and  respect  for  Jorden,  not  for  his 
literature,  but  for  his  worth.  "  When 
ever  (said  he)  a  young  man  becomes 
Jorden's  pupil,  he  becomes  his  son.'" 
Life,  i.  61. 

4  Boswell    recorded  in  his  note 
book  in  March  1776: — 'Mr.  Hector 
told   me  that  the   Master  of  Pem 
broke  used  to  see  him  idling  away 
his    time    in    the    quadrangle,   and 
that    he    set    him    a   task    to   turn 
Pope's  Messiah  into  Latin  (wrong, 
he  was  asked  very  civilly  by  Jorden 
to  do  it)  upon  which    Mr.  Johnson 
produced   his  admirable  version  of 
that  poem.'     Morrison  Allographs, 
2nd  Series,  i.  368.    See  Life,  i.  61. 

5  Murphy  gets  this  statement  from 
Hawkins,    p.    9.      Dr.   Taylor    told 


Boswell  that  though  Corbet's  father 
had  promised  to  support  Johnson 
at  Oxford  '  in  the  character  of  his 
son's  companion,  in  fact  he  never 
received  any  assistance  whatever 
from  that  gentleman.'  Life,  i.  58. 

Corbet,  as  the  books  of  the  College 
show,  entered  in  1727.  In  October, 
1728,  his  charges  became  irregular, 
and  ceased  altogether  in  the  following 
December,  when  no  doubt  he  left 
College.  Johnson,  as  I  have  shown, 
was  only  fourteen  months  in  Col 
lege,  leaving  in  December,  1729. 
Ib.  i.  78,  n.  2.  Adams  was  only  '  his 
nominal  tutor.'  Ib.  p.  79. 

6  Hawkins,  p.  II.  'He  told  me 
what  he  read  solidly  at  Oxford  was 
Greek  .  .  .  that  the  study  of  which 
he  was  the  most  fond  was  Meta- 
physicks,  but  he  had  not  read  much 
even  in  that  way.'  Life,  i.  70. 

discovered, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  363 

discovered,  notwithstanding,  early  symptoms  of  that  wandering 
disposition  of  mind  which  adhered  to  him  to  the  end  of  his  life. 
His  reading  was  by  fits  and  starts,  undirected  to  any  particular 
science x.  General  philology,  agreeably  to  his  cousin  Ford's 
advice,  was  the  object  of  his  ambition.  He  received,  at  that 
time,  an  early  impression  of  piety2,  and  a  taste  for  the  best 
authors  ancient  and  modern.  It  may,  notwithstanding,  be  ques 
tioned  whether,  except  his  Bible,  he  ever  read  a  book  entirely 
through.  Late  in  life,  if  any  man  praised  a  book  in  his  pre 
sence,  he  was  sure  to  ask,  '  Did  you  read  it  through  ? '  If  the 
answer  was  in  the  affirmative,  he  did  not  seem  willing  to  believe 
it 3.  He  continued  at  the  university  till  the  want  of  pecuniary 
supplies  obliged  him  to  quit  the  place.  He  obtained,  however, 
the  assistance  of  a  friend,  and  returning  in  a  short  time  was  able 
to  complete  a  residence  of  three  years  4.  The  history  of  his 
exploits  at  Oxford,  he  used  to  say,  was  best  known  to  Dr.  Taylor 
and  Dr.  Adams 5.  Wonders  are  told  of  his  memory,  and, 
indeed,  all  who  knew  him  late  in  life  can  witness  that  he 
retained  that  faculty  in  the  greatest  vigour  6. 

From  the  university  Johnson  returned  to  Lichfield.  His  father 
died  soon  after,  December  1731  ;  and  the  whole  receipt  out  of  his 
effects,  as  appeared  by  a  memorandum  in  the  son's  hand-writing, 
dated  i5th  June,  1732,  was  no  more  than  twenty  pounds 7.  In 

1  Hawkins,  p.  12.  which   never  took  place,  attributes 

2  Hawkins   (p.    18)   fathers   these  Johnson's  maintenance  at  college  to 
'  sentiments  of  piety '  on  '  the  order  '  the  bounty,  as   it   is   supposed,  of 
and  discipline  of  a  college  life  .  .  .  some  one  or  more  of  the  members 
the  early  calls  to  prayers,  the  fre-  of    the     Cathedral    [of    Lichfield].' 
quent  instructions  from  the  pulpit,  Murphy  goes    a    step    further  and 
with  all  the  other  means  of  religious  speaks  positively  of  a  friend. 

and  moral  improvement.'     Johnson  5  Ante,  p.  166. 

told    Boswell    that    it   was   reading  6  See  Life,  v.  368,  for  a  singular 

Law's  Serious  Call  to  a  Holy  Life  proof  of  his  memory  at  the  age  of 

which  { was  the  first  occasion  of  his  sixty-four,  and  ante,  p.  437. 

thinking  in  earnest  of  religion  after  7  The  entry  of  this  is  remarkable 

he  became  capable   of  rational  in-  for  his  early  resolution  to  preserve 

quiry.'     Life,  i.  68.  through  life  a  fair  and  upright  char- 

3  Ante,  p.  319.  acter  : — '1732,  Junii  15.     Undecim 

4  Hawkins  (p.  16),  in  accounting  aureos   deposui,   quo   die,   quidquid 
for  this  second  period  of  residence,  ante  matris  funus    (quod  serum  sit 

this 


364 


Essay  on 


this  exigence,  determined  that  poverty  should  neither  depress 
his  spirit  nor  warp  his  integrity,  he  became  under-master  of 
a  Grammar-school  at  Market  Bosworth  in  Leicestershire.  That 
resource,  however,  did  not  last  long.  Disgusted  by  the  pride  of 
Sir  Wolstan  Dixie,  the  patron  of  that  little  seminary,  he  left  the 
place  in  discontent,  and  ever  after  spoke  of  it  with  abhorrence  *. 
In  1733  he  went  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Hector,  who  had  been  his 
school-fellow,  and  was  then  a  surgeon  at  Birmingham,  lodging  at 
the  house  of  Warren,  a  bookseller2.  At  that  place  Johnson 


precor)  de  paternis  bonis  sperare 
licet,  viginti  scilicet  libras,  accepi. 
Usque  adeo  mihi  mea  fortuna  fin- 
genda  est  interea,  et  ne  paupertate 
vires  animi  languescant.  ne  in  flagitia 
egestas  adigat,  cavendum.'  Note  by 
Murphy.  Bos  well  gives  the  date 
Julii  15  ;  for  sperare  he  has  sperari, 
and  he  thus  gives  the  last  para 
graph  :— '  Usque  adeo  mihi  fortuna 
fingenda  est.  Interea,  ne  paupertate 
vires  animi  languescant,  nee  in  fla 
gitia  egestas  abigat,  cavendum.'  Life, 
i.  80.  Hawkins  (p.  21)  differs  both 
from  Murphy  and  Boswell. 

1  Life,  i.  84 ;  Letters,  i.  2. 

Boswell  recorded  in  his  note-book 
at  Lichfield  in  March,  1776  :—' After 
leaving  Oxford  Mr.  Johnson  lived  at 
home.  Then,  as  Miss  Porter  in 
formed  me,  he  got  the  school  of 
Bosworth.  He  was  very  unhappy 
there,  with  Sir  Woolston  Dixey,  an 
abandoned  brutal  rascal.  Dr.  Taylor 
told  me  this,  and  said  Dr.  Johnson 
did  not  like  to  recollect  that  diss- 
agreeable  [sic]  period  of  his  life,  that 
he  said  to  him  that  it  was  uneasy  to 
him  to  see  that  side  of  the  town  (I 
suppose  of  Ashburn)  which  leads  to 
Bosworth  ;  that  he  could  not  bear 
the  horrid  disgust  of  that  state,  and 
threw  up  the  school.  He  then  was 
tutor  to  the  son  of  Mr.  Whitby.  His 
pupil  did  not  live  to  inherit  the 
estate.'  Morrison  Autographs,  2nd 


Series,  i.  369.  In  Dixey's  house 
Johnson  is  said  '  to  have  officiated  as 
a  kind  of  domestick  chaplain,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  to  say  grace  at  table.' 
Life,  i.  84.  Addison,  in  the  Guardian, 
No.  163,  gives  a  letter  from  a  young 
nobleman's  chaplain,  who  writes  : — 
'  I  have,  with  much  ado,  maintained 
my  post  hitherto  at  the  dessert,  and 
every  day  eat  tart  in  the  face  of  my 
patron,  but  how  long  I  shall  be  in 
vested  with  this  privilege  I  do  not 
know.  For  the  servants,  who  do  not 
see  me  supported  as  I  was  in  my 
old  lord's  time,  begin  to  brush  very 
familiarly  by  me,  and  thrust  aside 
my  chair  when  they  set  the  sweet 
meats  on  the  table.'  South  (Sermons, 
iv.  136)  describes  how  '  some  keep 
chaplains,  not  out  of  any  concern 
for  religion,  but  as  it  is  a  piece  of 
grandeur  something  above  keeping 
a  coach ;  though  in  such  cases  he 
who  serves  at  the  altar  has  gene 
rally  as  much  contempt  and  disdain 
passed  upon  him  as  he  who  serves 
in  the  kitchen.' 

2  Life,  i.  85. 

'  Miss  Porter  told  me  the  Birming 
ham  people  could  not  bear  Mr. 
Johnson,  and  he  did  not  say  why. 
I  suppose  from  envy  of  his  parts, 
though  I  do  not  see  how  traders 
could  envy  such  qualities.'  Morrison 
Allographs,  2nd  Series,  i.  369. 

translated 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  365 

translated  a  Voyage  to  Abyssinia,  written  by  Jerome  Lobo, 
a  Portugueze  missionary.  This  was  the  first  literary  work  from 
the  pen  of  Dr.  Johnson.  His  friend  Hector  was  occasionally  his 
amanuensis.  The  work  was,  probably,  undertaken  at  the  desire 
of  Warren,  the  bookseller,  and  was  printed  at  Birmingham  ;  but 
it  appears  in  the  Literary  Magazine,  or  History  of  the  Works  of 
the  Learned,  for  March,  1735,  that  it  was  published  by  Bettes- 
worth  and  Hitch,  Pate r-noster- row  *.  .  . 

Having  finished  this  work,  Johnson  returned  in  February, 
1734,  to  his  native  city,  and,  in  the  month  of  August  following, 
published  Proposals  for  printing  by  subscription,  the  Latin 
Poems  of  Politian,  with  the  History  of  Latin  Poetry,  from  the 
^Era  of  Petrarch  to  the  time  of  Politian  ;  and  also  the  Life  of 
Politian,  to  be  added  by  the  Editor,  Samuel  Johnson2.  The 
book  to  be  printed  in  thirty  octavo  sheets  price  five  shillings. 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  this  project  failed  for  want  of  encourage 
ment.  Johnson,  it  seems,  differed  from  Boileau,  Voltaire,  and 
D'Alembert,  who  have  taken  upon  them  to  proscribe  all  modern 
efforts  to  write  with  elegance  in  a  dead  language3.  For  a 
decision,  pronounced  in  so  high  a  tone,  no  good  reason  can  be 
assigned.  The  interests  of  learning  require,  that  the  diction  of 

1  Life,  i.  87.  scholar   of  the   present    age   would 

Major    (afterwards    Sir    Francis)  dream  of  writing  the  history  of  this 

Head    accused  Johnson    of  having  late  period  of  Latin  poetry  ? 
translated  Lobo  to  injure  the  sale  of          3  Johnson  in  his  last  work  shows 

Bruce's  Travels.  Gentleman's  Maga-  his  fondness  for  modern  Latin  poetry. 

sine,   1830,  ii.  482.     These    Travels  He   says :—' Pope    had   sought   for 

were  published  six  years  after  John-  images  and  sentiments  in  a  region 

son's  death.  not  known  to  have  been  explored  by 

1  omit   ten   pages   containing  an  many  other  of  the  English  writers ; 
extract    from   the   preface   given   in  he  had  consulted  the  modern  writers 
the  Life,  i.  88,  and  an  abstract  of  the  of  Latin  poetry,  a  class  of  authors 
book.  whom  Boileau  endeavoured  to  bring 

2  '  Angeli  Politiani  Poemata  Lati-  into    contempt,   and    who    are    too 
na,quibus,NotascumhistoridLatin(E  generally   neglected.'      Works,   viii. 
poeseos,   d  Petrarchce  <zvo  ad  Poli-  299. 

Hani  tempora  deditctd,  et  vitd  Poli-  Boileau  ridicules  them  in  a  Frag- 

tiani  fusius  qitam  antehac  enarratd,  nient  de  Dialogue,  where  the  Inter- 
addidit  SAM.  JOHNSON.'  Life,  i.  90.  locideurs  are  'Apollon,  Horace,  des 
Petrarch  was  born  in  1304;  Poli-  Muses,  des  Poetes.'  CEuvres,  ed. 
tian  died  in  1494.  What  young  1747,  iii.  55. 

Greece 


366 


Essay  on 


Greece  and  Rome  should  be  cultivated  with  care ;  and  he  who 
can  write  a  language  with  correctness,  will  be  most  likely  to 
understand  its  idiom,  its  grammar,  and  its  peculiar  graces  of 
style.  What  man  of  taste  would  willingly  forego  the  pleasure 
of  reading  Vida,  Fracastorius,  Sannazaro,  Strada  x,  and  others, 
down  to  the  late  elegant  productions  of  Bishop  Lowth 2  ?  The 
history  which  Johnson  proposed  to  himself  would,  beyond  all 
question,  have  been  a  valuable  addition  to  the  history  of  letters  ; 
but  his  project  failed.  His  next  expedient  was  to  offer  his 
assistance  to  Cave,  the  original  projector  of  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine.  For  this  purpose  he  sent  his  proposals  in  a  letter, 
offering,  on  reasonable  terms,  occasionally  to  fill  some  pages 
with  poems  and  inscriptions  never  printed  before  ;  with  fugitive 
pieces  that  deserved  to  be  revived,  and  critical  remarks  on 
authors  ancient  and  modern.  Cave  agreed  to  retain  him  as 
a  correspondent  and  contributor  to  the  Magazine  3.  What  the 
conditions  were  cannot  now  be  known ;  but,  certainly,  they  were 
not  sufficient  to  hinder  Johnson  from  casting  his  eyes  about  him 
in  quest  of  other  employment.  Accordingly,  in  1735,  he  made 
overtures  to  the  reverend  Mr.  Budworth,  Master  of  a  Grammar- 


1  'Upon  the  whole  Erasmus  is 
rather  a  versifier  than  a  poet,  and  is 
not  to  be  ranked  amongst  the  Italian 
poets  of  those  days,  Sannazarius, 
Fracastorius,  Vida,  &c.,  many  of 
whom  wrote  better  than  any  of  the 
ancients,  except  Lucretius,  Virgil, 
Horace  and  a  few  more.'  Jortin's 
Erasmus,  i.  60 1. 

Addison,  in  the  Guardian,  Nos. 
115,  119,  writes  about  Strada's  Pro 
lusion,  describing  it  as  '  one  of  the 
most  entertaining  as  well  as  the  most 
just  pieces  of  criticism  that  I  have 
ever  read.' 

The  Earl  of  Aberdeen  (the  Prime- 
minister),  when  a  Cambridge  under 
graduate  of  eighteen  years  old,  wrote 
to  a  friend  in  1802 : — '  I  will  in  some 
sort  defend  Vida  when  we  meet,  but 
meanwhile  do  you  read  Sannazarius. 
You  will  be  pleased  with  him  and 


also  with  Fracastorius.'     The  Earl 
of  Aberdeen,  1893,  p.  8. 

For  a  charge  brought  against  Sir 
Walter  Scott  of  stealing  from  one  of 
Vida's  poems  see  Life,  i.  230,  n.  I. 

2  Lowth's  '  incomparable  Praelec- 
tiones  on  the  Poetry  of  the  Hebrews ' 
(Gibbon's  Misc.   Works,   ed.    1814, 
i.  51)  were  published  in  1753.     'All 
Scotland,'  said  Johnson,  '  could  not 
muster  learning  enough  for  Lowth's 
Prelections'     Life,  v.  57,  n.  3. 

3  Murphy  follows  Hawkins  (p.  29) 
in   this   statement.     The  letter  was 
written  on  Nov.  25,  1734,  and  was 
answered  on  Dec.  2.    '  But  whether,' 
says   Boswell,   '  anything  was    done 
in  consequence  of  it  we  are  not  in 
formed.'     Jo.  i.  92.     'His  first  per 
formance  in  the  Gentleman's  Maga 
zine  was  a  copy  of  Latin  verses  in 
March,  1738.'    Ib.  p.  113. 

school 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  367 

school  at  Brerewood,  in  Staffordshire,  to  become  his  assistant. 
This  proposition  did  not  succeed.  Mr.  Budworth  apprehended, 
that  the  involuntary  motions,  to  which  Johnson's  nerves  were 
subject,  might  make  him  an  object  of  ridicule  with  his  scholars, 
and,  by  consequence,  lessen  their  respect  for  their  master *. 
Another  mode  of  advancing  himself  presented  itself  about  this 
time.  Mrs.  Porter,  the  widow  of  a  mercer  in  Birmingham, 
admired  his  talents.  It  is  said  that  she  had  about  eight  hundred 
pounds ;  and  that  sum  to  a  person  in  Johnson's  circumstances 
was  an  affluent  fortune  2.  A  marriage  took  place  ;  and,  to  turn 
his  wife's  money  to  the  best  advantage,  he  projected  the  scheme 
of  an  academy  for  education 3.  Gilbert  Walmsley,  at  that  time 
Register  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Court  of  the  Bishop  of  Lichfield, 
was  distinguished  by  his  erudition  and  the  politeness  of  his 
manners.  He  was  the  friend  of  Johnson,  and,  by  his  weight  and 
influence,  endeavoured  to  promote  his  interest 4.  The  celebrated 
Garrick,  whose  father,  Captain  Garrick,  lived  at  Lichfield,  was 
placed  in  the  new  seminary  of  education  by  that  gentleman's 
advice.  Garrick  was  then  about  eighteen  years  old.  An  acces 
sion  of  seven  or  eight  pupils  was  the  most  that  could  be  obtained  5, 
though  notice  was  given  by  a  public  advertisement6,  that  at 

1  Hawkins,  p.  32  ;  Life,  iv.  407,       i.  95.     There  is  no  doubt  that  she 
n.  4.  had  some  property.     Ib.  n.  3. 

In  the  same  year  he  applied  for  3  By  the  fineness  of  his  language 
the  mastership  of  Solihull  Grammar  Murphy,  like  Milton's  biographers, 
School  in  Warwickshire.  The  '  Fceo-  seems  to  shrink  from  stating  that 
fees '  did  not  approve  of  him,  as  '  he  Johnson  thought  of  starting  a  board- 
has  the  character  of  being  a  very  ing-school.  A  few  lines  lower  down 
haughty,  ill-natured  gent,  and  y*  he  he  calls  it  '  a  seminary  of  educa- 
has  such  a  way  of  distorting  his  tion.'  Johnson  defines  Academy  as 
Face  (wh  though  he  can't  help)  ye  'a  place  of  education,  in  contradis- 
gent.  think  it  may  affect  some  young  tinction  to  the  universities  or  public 
ladds.'  Ib.  vi.  Addenda,  p.  44.  schools.' 

2  Murphy  here  follows    Hawkins  4  Hawkins,  p.  35  ;  Life,  i.  81. 

(p.  33),  who,  in  his  turn,  followed  the  s  Hawkins,  p.  36.     According  to 

anonymous  author  of  Memoirs  of  the  Boswell  (Life,  i.  97)  there  were  only 

Life  &>c.  of  Dr.  Johnson,  ed.  1785,  three  pupils. 

p.  25.     Boswell  speaks  of  the  mar-  6  Gent.  Mag.,  1736,  pp.  360,  428. 

riage  as  'a  very  imprudent  scheme  Pembroke  College  has  lately  acquired 

both  on  account  of  their  disparity  of  a  desk  which  belonged  to  Johnson 

years  and  her  want  of  fortune.'  Life,  at  Edial. 

Edial, 


Essay  on 


Edial,  near  Lichfield,  in  Staffordshire,  young  Gentlemen  are 
boarded  and  taught  the  Latin  and  Greek  Languages,  by  Samuel 
Johnson. 

The  undertaking  proved  abortive.  Johnson,  having  now 
abandoned  all  hopes  of  promoting  his  fortune  in  the  country, 
determined  to  become  an  adventurer  in  the  world  at  large. 
His  young  pupil,  Garrick,  had  formed  the  same  resolution1; 
and,  accordingly,  in  March,  1737,  they  arrived  in  London 
together.  Two  such  candidates  for  fame  perhaps  never,  before 
that  day,  entered  the  metropolis  together.  Their  stock  of 
money  was  soon  exhausted  2.  In  his  visionary  project  of  an 
academy  Johnson  had  probably  wasted  his  wife's  substance  ; 
and  Garrick's  father  had  little  more  than  his  half-pay.  The 
two  fellow-travellers  had  the  world  before  them,  and  each  was 
to  chuse  his  road  to  fortune  and  to  fame.  They  brought  with 
them  genius,  and  powers  of  mind,  peculiarly  formed  by  nature 
for  the  different  vocations  to  which  each  of  them  felt  himself 
inclined.  They  acted  from  the  impulse  of  young  minds,  even 
then  meditating  great  things,  and  with  courage  anticipating 
success.  Their  friend  Mr.  Walmsley,  by  a  letter  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Colson,  who,  it  seems,  was  a  great  mathematician,  exerted 
his  good  offices  in  their  favour.  He  gave  notice  of  their  in 
tended  journey 3.  '  Davy  Garrick,'  he  said,  '  will  be  with  you 
next  week  ;  and  Johnson,  to  try  his  fate  with  a  tragedy,  and 
to  get  himself  employed  in  some  translation  either  from  the 
Latin  or  French.  Johnson  is  a  very  good  scholar  and  a  poet, 
and,  I  have  great  hopes,  will  turn  out  a  fine  tragedy-writer. 
If  it  should  be  in  your  way,  I  doubt  not  but  you  will  be  ready 
to  recommend  and  assist  your  countrymen.'  Of  Mr.  Walmsley 's 
merits  and  the  excellence  of  his  character,  Johnson  has  left 
a  beautiful  testimonial  at  the  end  of  the  Life  of  Edward  Smith4. 
It  is  reasonable  to  conclude,  that  a  mathematician,  absorbed 
in  abstract  speculations,  was  not  able  to  find  a  sphere  of 


1  Garrick's  intention  was  '  to  com 
plete  his  education  and  follow  the 
profession  of  the  law.'  Life,  i.  101. 

f  Ib.  n.  i. 


3  Ib.   i.    102.      Murphy  does  not 
quote  the  letter  accurately. 

4  Edmund    Smith.      Works,    vii. 
380;  Life,  i.  81. 

action 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


369 


action  for  two  men  who  were  to  be  the  architects  of  their  own 
fortune.  In  three  or  four  years  afterwards  Garrick  came  forth 
with  talents  that  astonished  the  publick.  He  began  his  career 
at  Goodman's-fields z,  and  there,  monstratus  fatis  Vespasianus"2 ! 
he  chose  a  lucrative  profession,  and  consequently  soon  emerged 
from  all  his  difficulties.  Johnson  was  left  to  toil  in  the  humble 
walks  of  literature.  A  tragedy,  as  appears  by  Walmsley's  letter, 
was  the  whole  of  his  stock.  This,  most  probably,  was  IRENE  3 ; 
but,  if  then  finished,  it  was  doomed  to  wait  for  a  more  happy 
period.  It  was  offered  to  Fleetwood,  and  rejected.  Johnson 
looked  round  him  for  employment.  Having,  while  he  remained 
in  the  country,  corresponded  with  Cave  under  a  feigned  name, 
he  now  thought  it  time  to  make  himself  known  to  a  man  whom 
he  considered  as  a  patron  of  literature 4.  Cave  had  announced, 
by  public  advertisement,  a  prize  of  fifty  pounds  for  the  best 


1  On   Oct.   19,    1741.      Murphy's 
Garrick,  pp.  13,  16. 

2  Tacitus,  Agricola,  c.  13.     '  Des 
tiny  learnt    to   know  its   favourite.' 
Church  and  Brodribb's  Translation. 

3  It  was  Irene.     Life,  i.  100. 

Boswell  recorded  in  his  note 
book  :— '  Peter  Garrick  told  me  that 
Mr.  Johnson  went  first  to  London, 
to  see  what  could  be  made  of  his 
tragedy  of  Irene ;  that  he  remembers 
his  borrowing  the  Turkish  History 
(I  think  Peter  said  of  htm]  in  order 
to  take  the  story  of  his  play  out  of 
it ;  that  he  and  Mr.  Johnson  went  to 
the  Fountain  Tavern  by  themselves, 
and  Mr.  Johnson  read  it  to  him. 
This,  Mr.  Peter  Garrick  told  me  at 
Lichfield,  Sunday,  24  March,  1778. 
Mr.  Porter,  son  to  Mrs.  Johnson,  was 
by,  and  objected  that  the  Fountain 
was  a  notorious  bawdy-house.  Peter 
said  it  might  be  so,  but  that  people 
might  be  decently  there,  as  well  as 
anywhere  else  ;  that  he  belonged  to 
a  West  India  club  kept  there,  at 
which  a  dozen  of  Madeira  used  to  be 
set  before  the  fire  to  toast,  and  that 

VOL.  I.  B 


they  never  had  women  with  them.' 
Morrison  Autographs,  i.  369. 

For  the  Fountain  Tavern  see  Life, 
i.  ill,  and  for  the  rejection  of  Irene 
by  Fleetwood,  the  patentee  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  see  ib.  i.  m,  153,  and 
Letters,  i.  5. 

In  the  advertisement  at  the  end  of 
Theatrical  Records,  1756,  are  eight 
tragedies  published  by  Dodsley, 
Irene  among  them—  each  at  eighteen- 
pence.  On  p.  103  is  mentioned  Irene 
or  the  Fair  Greek,  a  Tragedy  by 
Charles  Goring,  1708. 

Gilbert  Swinhoe,  in  1658,  pub 
lished  The  Tragedy  of  the  imhappy 
fair  Irene.  Lowndes's  Biblio.  Man. 
p.  2562. 

4  Murphy  in  this  is  following 
Hawkins.  Johnson  had  not  written 
*  under  a  feigned  name.'  He  had 
said  : — '  Your  letter  by  being  directed 
to  S.  Smith,  to  be  left  at  the  Castle 
Inn,  Birmingham  will  reach  your 
humble  servant.'  Life,  i.  92.  His 
letter,  to  which  Murphy  now  refers 
(Ib.  i.  107),  clearly  shows  that  the 
first  had  had  no  result. 
b  Poem 


370  Essay  on 


Poem  on  Life,  Death,  Judgement,  Heaven,  and  Hell x ;  and  this 
circumstance  diffused  an  idea  of  his  liberality.  Johnson  became 
connected  with  him  in  business,  and  in  a  close  and  intimate 
acquaintance.  Of  Cave's  character  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  any 
thing  in  this  place,  as  Johnson  was  afterwards  the  biographer 
of  his  first  and  most  useful  patron 2.  To  be  engaged  in  the 
translation  of  some  important  book  was  still  the  object  which 
Johnson  had  in  view.  For  this  purpose  he  proposed  to  give 
the  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  with  copious  notes  then 
lately  added  to  a  French  edition.  Twelve  sheets  of  this  work 
were  printed3,  for  which  Johnson  received  forty-nine  pounds, 
as  appears  by  his  receipt  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Nichols,  the 
compiler  of  that  entertaining  and  useful  work,  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine.  Johnson's  translation  was  never  completed  ;  a  like 
design  was  offered  to  the  publick,  under  the  patronage  of 
Dr.  Zachary  Pearce ;  and  by  that  contention  both  attempts 
were  frustrated4.  Johnson  had  been  commended  by  Pope  for 
the  translation  of  the.  Messiah  into  Latin  verse;  but  he  knew 
no  approach  to  so  eminent  a  man 5.  With  one,  however,  who 
was  connected  with  Pope,  he  became  acquainted  at  St.  John's 
Gate ;  and  that  person  was  no  other  than  the  well-known 
Richard  Savage,  whose  life  was  afterwards  written  by  Johnson 
with  great  elegance,  and  a  depth  of  moral  reflection.  Savage 
was  a  man  of  considerable  talents.  His  address,  his  various 

1  'Cave  sometimes  offered  subjects  2  Ib.  i.  256. 

for  poems,  and  proposed  prizes  for  3  Only  six  sheets.  '  A  few  copies 
the  best  performers.  The  first  prize  were  intended  to  be  reserved  ;  but 
was  fifty  pounds,  for  which,  being  they  were  so  carefully  put  by  as  to 
but  newly  acquainted  with  wealth,  be  lost  in  the  mass  of  Mr.  Cave's 
and  thinking  the  influence  of  fifty  papers  deposited  in  St.  John's  Gate.' 
pounds  extremely  great,  he  expected  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1787,  p.  345. 
the  first  authors  of  the  kingdom  to  4  Life,  i.  107,  135. 
appear  as  competitors  ;  and  offered  5  '  It  was  shown  to  Pope  by  a  son 
the  allotment  of  the  prize  to  the  of  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  then  a  gentleman- 
universities.  But  when  the  time  commoner  of  Christ  Church.  He 
came,  no  name  was  seen  among  the  returned  it  with  this  encomium  : — 
writers  that  had  ever  been  seen  be-  "  The  writer  of  this  poem  will  leave 
fore ;  the  universities  and  several  it  a  question  for  posterity  whether 
private  men  rejected  the  province  his  or  mine  be  the  original."  '  Haw- 
of  assigning  the  prize.'  Johnson's  kins,  p.  13. 
Works,  vi.  432  ;  Life,  i.  91. 

accomplishments, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  371 

accomplishments,  and,  above  all,  the  peculiarity  of  his  mis 
fortunes  recommended  him  to  Johnson's  notice.  They  became 
united  in  the  closest  intimacy.  Both  had  great  parts,  and  they 
were  equally  under  the  pressure  of  want.  Sympathy  joined 
them  in  a  league  of  friendship.  Johnson  has  been  often  heard 
to  relate,  that  he  and  Savage  walked  round  Grosvenor-square 
till  four  in  the  morning ;  in  the  course  of  their  conversation 
reforming  the  world,  dethroning  princes,  establishing  new  forms 
of  government,  and  giving  laws  to  the  several  states  of  Europe, 
till,  fatigued  at  length  with  their  legislative  office,  they  began 
to  feel  the  want  of  refreshment ;  but  could  not  muster  up  more 
than  four  pence  halfpenny x.  Savage,  it  is  true,  had  many  vices  ; 
but  vice  could  never  strike  its  roots  in  a  mind  like  Johnson's, 
seasoned  early  with  religion,  and  the  principles  of  moral  recti 
tude.  His  first  prayer  was  composed  in  the  year  I7382.  He 
had  not  at  that  time  renounced  the  use  of  wine 3 ;  and,  no  doubt, 
occasionally  enjoyed  his  friend  and  his  bottle.  The  love  of  late 
hours,  which  followed  him  through  life,  was,  perhaps,  originally 

1  '  Johnson  told  Sir  Joshua  Key-  said  : — '  It  used  to  cost  the  rest  a 
nolds,  that  one  night  in  particular,  shilling,  for  they  drank  wine ;    but 
when  Savage  and  he  walked  round  I  had  a  cut  of  meat  for  six-pence, 
St.  James's-square   for  want    of   a  and  bread  for  a  penny,  and  gave  the 
lodging,   they  were  not   at   all   de-  waiter  a  penny ;  so  that  I  was  quite 
pressed   by  their   situation  ;    but  in  well  served,  nay,  better  than  the  rest, 
high  spirits  and  brimful  of  patriotism,  for  they  gave   the  waiter  nothing.' 
traversed    the    square    for    several  Ib.  i.  103. 

hours,  inveighed  against  the  minister,  In  a  marginal  note  Leigh  Hunt 

and  "  resolved  they  would  stand  by  says  : — '  Lord   Byron,   in   repeating 

their  country"*    Life,   i.    164.     In  this   story,   of  which  he  was  fond, 

Grosvenor  Square,  when  the  Thrales  used  to  dwell  upon  these  particular 

were  living  there,  he  had  his  own  words,  "a  cut  of  meat,"  with  great  and 

room  (Ib.  iv.  72,  n.  i),  and  recalling  pleasant  gusto.'  A  Shelf  of  Old  Books  > 

the  old  days,  thought  perhaps  how  by  Mrs.  James  T.  Fields,  p.  174.  The 

'  the  whirligig  of  time  brings  in  his  price  of  wine  is  shown  in  the  follow- 

revenge.'  ing   quotation  : — '  Her   spirits   grew 

2  Ante,  p.  7.  very  low  ;  and  she  was  once  or  twice 

3  Boswell,   writing    of   Johnson's  going  to  ring  the  bell,  to  send  her 
first  visit  to  London  in  1737,  says: —  maid  for  half  a  pint  of  white  wine ; 
4  He    at   this    time,    I    beiieve,   ab-  but  checked  her  inclination,  in  order 
stained     entirely     from     fermented  to  save  the  little  sum  of  sixpence.' 
liquors.'     Life,  i.  103.  Amelia,  Bk.  x.  ch.  v.     'White  wine' 

Johnson  describing  his  dinner  at       is  sherry, 
the    Pine    Apple,    in    New   Street, 

B  b  2  contracted 


372 


Essay  on 


contracted  in  company  with  Savage.  However  that  may  be, 
their  connection  was  not  of  long  duration.  In  the  year  1738, 
Savage  was  reduced  to  the  last  distress.  Mr.  Pope,  in  a  letter 
to  him,  expressed  his  concern  for  '  the  miserable  withdrawing  of 
his  pension  after  the  death  of  the  Queen * ; '  and  gave  him  hopes 
that,  'in  a  short  time,  he  should  find  himself  supplied  with 
a  competence,  without  any  dependance  on  those  little  creatures, 
whom  we  are  pleased  to  call  the  Great 2.'  The  scheme  proposed 
to  him  was,  that  he  should  retire  to  Swansea  in  Wales,  and 
receive  an  allowance  of  fifty  pounds  a  year,  to  be  raised  by 
subscription ;  Pope  was  to  pay  twenty  pounds 3.  This  plan, 
though  finally  established,  took  more  than  a  year  before  it  was 
carried  into  execution.  In  the  mean  time,  the  intended  retreat 
of  Savage  called  to  Johnson's  mind  the  third  satire  of  Juvenal,  in 
which  that  poet  takes  leave  of  a  friend,  who  was  withdrawing 
himself  from  all  the  vices  of  Rome.  Struck  with  this  idea,  he 
wrote  that  well-known  Poem,  called  London.  The  first  lines 
manifestly  point  to  Savage 4. 

Though  grief  and  fondness  in  my  breast  rebel, 

When  injured  Thales  bids  the  town  farewell ; 

Yet  still  my  calmer  thoughts  his  choice  commend; 

I  praise  the  hermit,  but  regret  the  friend. 

Resolv'd  at  length  from  Vice  and  London  far, 

To  breathe  in  distant  fields  a  purer  air ; 

And,  fix'd  on  Cambria's  solitary  shore, 

Give  to  St.  David  one  true  Briton  more. 


1  '  Savage,'    said    Adam    Smith, 
'was  but  a   worthless   fellow;     his 
pension  of  fifty  pounds  never  lasted 
him  above  a  few  days.  As  a  sample  of 
his  economy  you  may  take  a  circum 
stance  that  Johnson  himself  told  me. 
It  was,  at  that  period,  fashionable  to 
wear    scarlet   cloaks    trimmed  with 
gold  lace :  the  Doctor  met  him  one 
day,  just  after  he  had  received  his 
pension,   with   one   of  these   cloaks 
upon  his  back,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  his  naked  toes  were  peeping 
through  his  shoes.'     Buchan  MSS. 
quoted  in  Croker's  Boswell,  x.  122. 

2  This  letter,  I  think,  is  not  extant. 
The  passages  quoted  in  the  text  are 


given,  without  Pope's  name,  in  John 
son's  Works,  viii.  169. 

3  Ib.  viii.  318. 

4  Boswell  denies  this.     In  a  note 
I  have  examined  the  question.    Life, 
i.  125,  n.  4. 

Mr.  Hussey  (Life,  iii.  369),  in  a 
MS.  note  in  the  Life,  says : — '  John 
son  told  me  that  London  was  written 
many  years  before  he  was  acquainted 
with  Savage,  and  that  it  was  even 
published  before  he  knew  him— of 
which  I  informed  Mr.  Boswell,  who 
did  not  think  proper  to  believe  me. — 
Johnson  also  said  that  by  Thales  he 
did  not  mean  any  particular  person.' 

Johnson 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  373 

Johnson  at  that  time  lodged  at  Greenwich  x.  He  there  fixes 
the  scene,  and  takes  leave  of  his  friend  ;  who.  he  says  in  his  Life, 
parted  from  him  with  tears  in  his  eyes2.  The  poem,  when 
finished,  was  offered  to  Cave 3.  It  happened,  however,  that  the 
late  Mr.  Do.dsley  was  the  purchaser  at  the  price  often  guineas4. 
It  was  published  in  7  738  ;  and  Pope,  we  are  told,  said,  '  The 
author,  whoever  he  is,  will  not  be  long  concealed ; '  alluding  to 
the  passage  in  Terence,  Ubi,  ubi  est,  diu  celari  non  potest 5. 
Notwithstanding  that  prediction,  it  does  not  appear  that,  besides 
the  copy-money,  any  advantage  accrued  to  the  author  of  a  poem, 
written  with  the  elegance  and  energy  of  Pope.  Johnson,  in 
August  I7386,  went,  with  all  the  fame  of  his  poetry,  to  offer 
himself  a  candidate  for  the  mastership  of  the  school  at  Appleby, 
in  Leicestershire.  The  statutes  of  the  place  required,  that  the 
person  chosen  should  be  a  master  of  arts.  To  remove  this 
objection,  the  late  Lord  Gower  was  induced  to  write  to  a  friend, 
in  order  to  obtain  for  Johnson  a  master's  degree  in  the  Univer 
sity  of  Dublin,  by  the  recommendation  of  Dr.  Swift 7. 

This  scheme  miscarried.  There  is  reason  to  think,  that  Swift 
declined  to  meddle  in  the  business  ;  and  to  that  circumstance 
Johnson's  known  dislike  of  Swift  has  been  often  imputed 8. 

1  He  had  lodged  at  Greenwich  a  art,    thou    canst  not   long  be  con- 
year  earlier.    Life,  i.  107.     He  was  cealed."  '     Hawkins,    p.    60.     Per- 
living  in   Castle   Street,    Cavendish  haps  he  recollected  the  line  in  Le 
Square,  when  he  wrote  London.   Ib.  Misanthrope,  Act  iii.  sc.  8 :  — 

p.  1 20.  *  Un    merite    e*clatant  se    de'terre 

2  'Savage    left   London    in   July,  lui-meme.' 

1739,  having  taken  leave  with  great  Johnson  never  saw  Pope,  as  the  fol- 

tenderness  of  his  friends,  and  parted  lowing  note  by  Mr.  Hussey  shows : — 

from  the  author  of  this  narrative  with  '  Asking  Johnson  if  he  had  ever  been 

tears  in  his  eyes.'     Works,  viii.  173.  in  Mr.  Pope's  company  he  replied, 

3  Life,  i.  120.  "  No,  Sir,  I  never  saw  Pope."  '    Yet 

4  Id.  p.  124.  Pope  lived  seven  years  after  John- 

5  Eunuchus,  ii.  3,  4.    *  Pope  said,  son's  first  visit  to  London. 

"  he  will  soon  be  de"terreV' '    Life,  i.  6  It  was  in  1739  that  Johnson  went 

129.  '  Pope  recollected  perhaps  a  pas-  to  Appleby.     Life,  i.  132,  n.  I  ;  Let- 

sage  recorded  of  Milton,  who,  seeing  a  ters,  i.  3,  n.  I . 

beautiful  young  lady  pass  him  whom  7  For  Lord  Gower's  letter,  which 

he  never  had  seen  before,  turned  to  I  omit,  see  Life,  i.  133. 

look  at  her  and  said, "  Whoever  thou  8  '  I  once  took  the  liberty  to  ask 

It 


374 


Essay  on 


It  is  mortifying  to  pursue  a  man  of  merit  through  all  his 
difficulties ;  and  yet  this  narrative  must  be,  through  many 
following  years,  the  history  of  Genius  and  Virtue  struggling  with 
Adversity.  Having  lost  the  school  at  Appleby,  Johnson  was 
thrown  back  on  the  metropolis.  Bred  to  no  profession,  without 
relations,  friends,  or  interest,  he  was  condemned  to  drudgery  in 
the  service  of  Cave,  his  only  patron.  In  November  1738  was 
published  a  translation  of  Crousaz's  Examen  of  Pope's  Essay 
on  Man ;  ( containing  a  succinct  View  of  the  System  of  the 
Fatalists,  and  a  Confutation  of  their  Opinions  ;  with  an  Illustra 
tion  of  the  Doctrine  of  Free  Will ;  and  an  Enquiry,  what  view 
Mr.  Pope  might  have  in  touching  upon  the  Leibnitzian  Philo 
sophy,  and  Fatalism.  By  Mr.  Crousaz,  Professor  of  Philosophy 
and  Mathematics  at  Lausanne.'  This  translation  has  been 
generally  thought  a  production  of  Johnson's  pen ;  but  it  is  now 
known,  that  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter  has  acknowledged  it  to  be 
one  of  her  early  performances1.  It  is  certain,  however,  that 
Johnson  was  eager  to  promote  the  publication.  He  considered 
the  foreign  philosopher  as  a  man  zealous  in  the  cause  of 
religion ;  and  with  him  he  was  willing  to  join  against  the 
system  of  the  Fatalists,  and  the  doctrine  of  Leibnitz  2.  It  is 
well  known  that  Warburton  wrote  a  vindication  of  Mr.  Pope 3 ; 
but  there  is  reason  to  think,  that  Johnson  conceived  an  early 
prejudice  against  the  Essay  on  Man ;  and  what  once  took  root 
in  a  mind  like  his,  was  not  easily  eradicated.  His  letter  to 


Johnson  if  Swift  had  personally  of 
fended  him,  and  he  told  me  he  had 
not.'  Life,  v.  44. 

'Johnson  attributed  the  Tale  of 
a  Tub  to  Arbuthnot.  He  thought 
Swift  not  equal  to  it.'  MS.  note 
by  Mr.  Hussey.  See  post  in  Percy's 
Anecdotes. 

1  Life,  i.  137. 

Her  father  wrote  to  her  on  June 
25,  1738  : — '  You  mention  Johnson  ; 
but  that  is  a  name  with  which  I 
am  utterly  unacquainted.  Neither 
his  scholastic,  critical,  or  poetical 
character  ever  reached  my  ears.  I  a 


little  suspect  his  judgment  if  he  is 
very  fond  of  Martial.'  Memoirs  of 
Mrs.  Carter^  i.  39. 

2  '  No,  Sir ;  Leibnitz  was  as  paltry 
a  fellow  as  I  know.'    Life,  v.  287. 

3  'The  Rev.  Mr.  Strahan   clearly 
recollects  having  been  told  by  John 
son,   that   the    King  observed  that 
Pope   made   Warburton    a    Bishop. 
"  True,  Sir,  (said  Johnson,)  but  War- 
burton  did  more  for  Pope ;  he  made 
him  a  Christian : "  alluding,  no  doubt, 
to  his  ingenious  Comments   on  the 
Essay  on   Man?     Ib.    ii.  37,  n.    I ; 
Works,  viii.  289. 

Cave 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  375 

Cave  on  this  subject  is  still  extant,  and  may  well  justify 
Sir  John  Hawkins,  who  inferred  that  Johnson  was  the  translator 
of  Crousaz J.  The  conclusion  of  the  letter  is  remarkable.  '  I  am 
yours,  IMPRANSUS.'  If  by  that  Latin  word  was  meant  that  he 
had  not  dined,  because  he  wanted  the  means,  who  can  read  it, 
even  at  this  hour,  without  an  aching  heart2? 

With  a  mind  naturally  vigorous,  ang1  quickened  by  necessity, 
Johnson  formed  a  multiplicity  of  "projects  ;*  but  most  of  them 
proved  abortive.  A  number  of  small  tracts  issued  from  his  pen 
with  wonderful  rapidity  ;  such  as  '  MARMOR  NORFOLCIENSE  ; 
or  an  Essay  on  an  ancient  prophetical  Inscription,  in  Monkish 
Rhyme,  [lately]  discovered  at  Lynn  [near  Lynne]  in  Norfolk. 
By  Probus  Britannicus!  This  was  a  pamphlet  against  Sir 
Robert  Walpole.  According  to  Sir  John  Hawkins,  a  warrant 
was  issued  to  apprehend  the  Author,  who  retired  with  his  wife 
to  an  obscure  lodging  near  Lambeth  Marsh,  and  there  eluded 
the  search  of  the  messengers3.  But  this  story  has  no  foundation 
in  truth.  Johnson  was  never  known  to  mention  such  an  incident 
in  his  life ;  and  Mr.  Steele  (late  of  the  Treasury)  caused  diligent 
search  to  be  made  at  the  proper  offices,  and  no  trace  of  such 
a  proceeding  could  be  found4.  In  the  same  year  (1739)  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  prohibited  the  representation  of  a  tragedy, 
called  GUSTAVUS  VASA,  by  Henry  Brooke.  Under  the  mask 
of  irony  Johnson  published,  'A  Vindication  of  the  Licencer 
from  the  malicious  and  scandalous  Aspersions  of  Mr.  Brooke  V 
Of  these  two  pieces  Sir  John  Hawkins  says,  '  they  have  neither 
learning  nor  wit ;  not  a  single  ray  of  that  genius  which  has 
since  blazed  forth6;'  but  as  they  have  been  lately  re-printed, 

1  Hawkins,  p.  67.  once  a   dreary  marsh,  and  still   in 

2  Life,   i.    137.      The   original  of  parts    called  Lambeth   Marsh.  .  .  . 
this  letter,  owing  to  this  one   word  Most  of  this  tract   is   become  firm 
impransus^  was  sold  in  1888  for  £46.  land,  and  covered  with  most  useful 
Letters,  i.  3.  buildings,  even  to  the  edge  of  the 

3  Hawkins,  p.  72.  river.' 
Pennant,  in  his  London  (1790,  p.          4  Life,  i.  141. 

30),  writes: — 'From  Lambeth  I  re-          5  Ib.  i.  140. 

turned  by  the  water-side,  near  the  end          6  Hawkins,  p.  78.     Murphy's  quo- 

of  Westminster  Bridge,  along  a  tract      tation  is  inaccurate. 

the 


376 


Essay  on 


the  reader,  who  wishes  to  gratify  his  curiosity,  is  referred  to  the 
fourteenth  volume  of  Johnson's  works,  published  by  Stockdale  \ 
The  lives  of  Boerhaave,  Blake,  Barratier,  Father  Paul,  and 
others,  were,  about  that  time,  printed  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine 2.  The  subscription  of  fifty  pounds  a  year  for  Savage 
was  completed3;  and  in  July,  1739,  Johnson  parted  with  the 
companion  of  his  midnight-hours,  never  to  see  him  more.  The 
separation  was,  perhaps,  an  advantage  to  him,  who  wanted  to 
make  a  right  use  of  his  time,  and  even  then  beheld,  with 
self-reproach,  the  waste  occasioned  by  dissipation.  His  absti 
nence  from  wine  and  strong  liquors  began  soon  after  the 
departure  of  Savage  4.  What  habits  he  contracted  in  the  course 
of  that  acquaintance  cannot  now  be  known.  The  ambition 
of  excelling  in  conversation,  and  that  pride  of  victory,  which, 
at  times,  disgraced  a  man  of  Johnson's  genius,  were,  perhaps, 
native  blemishes5.  A  fierce  spirit  of  independence,  even  in 
the  midst  of  poverty,  may  be  seen  in  Savage ;  and,  if  not  thence 
transfused  by  Johnson  into  his  own  manners,  it  may,  at  least, 
be  supposed  to  have  gained  strength  from  the  example  before 
him.  During  that  connection  there  was,  if  we  believe  Sir  John 
Hawkins,  a  short  separation  between  our  author  and  his  wife  6 ; 
but  a  reconciliation  soon  took  place.  Johnson  loved  her,  and 
shewed  his  affection  in  various  modes  of  gallantry,  which  Garrick 
used  to  render  ridiculous  by  his  mimicry.  The  affectation  of 
soft  and  fashionable  airs  did  not  become  an  unwieldy  figure : 
his  admiration  was  received  by  the  wife  with  the  flutter  of  an 
antiquated  coquette  ;  and  both,  it  is  well  known,  furnished  matter 
for  the  lively  genius  of  Garrick 7. 


1  Works,  v.  329 ;  vi.  89. 

2  Life,  i.  139,  140,  147,  153. 

3  Johnson,  in  his  Life  of  Savage, 
says,     '  the    subscription    did    not 
amount  to  fifty  pounds  a  year ; '  in 
his  Life  of  Pope  he  states  that  Pope 
raised  for  him  forty  pounds.    Works, 
viii.  173,  318. 

4  It  had  begun  before,  though  it 
might  have  been  interrupted.    Ante, 
P-37i,«-  3- 


5  Murphy  makes  '  the  ambition  of 
excelling  in  conversation'  a  blemish. 

6  '  While  he   was  in  a  lodging  in 
Fleet  Street  she  was  harboured  by 
a  friend  near  the  Tower.'     Hawkins, 
p.    89.      See  Life,  i.  163,  n.  2.     In 
'  the  exact  list  of  his  places  of  resi 
dence'   which   he   gave   to   Boswell 
(Ib.  iii.  405,  n.  6)  he  does  not  men 
tion  Fleet  Street. 

7  Ib.  i.  99. 

It 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


377 


It  is  a  mortifying  reflection,  that  Johnson,  with  a  store  of 
learning  and  extraordinary  talents,  was  not  able,  at  the  age 
of  thirty,  to  force  his  way  to  the  favour  of  the  publick.  Slow 
rises  worth  by  poverty  depressed*.  'He  was  still,'  as  he  says 
himself,  '  to  provide  for  the  day  that  was  passing  over  him  2.' 
He  saw  Cave  involved  in  a  state  of  warfare  with  the  numerous 
competitors 3,  at  that  time  struggling  with  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine ;  and  gratitude  for  such  supplies  as  Johnson  received, 
dictated  a  Latin  Ode  on  the  subject  of  that  contention4.  The 

Urbane,  nullis  fesse  laboribus, 
Urbane,  nullis  victe  calumniis, 

put  one  in  mind  of  Casimir's  Ode  to  Pope  Urban  : 

Urbane,  regum  maxime,  maxime 
Urbane  vatum. — 

The  Polish  poet  was,  probably,  at  that  time  in  the  hands  of 
a  man  who   had   meditated   the   history  of  the  Latin  poets5. 


1  'This  mournful  truth   is  every 

where  confess'd ; 
Slow    rises    worth   by  poverty 

depress'd.' 

Johnson   parodied  the  first  line   in 
the  following  verse  :— 
*  Yet  hear,  alas  !  this  mournful  truth, 

Nor  hear  it  with  a  frown  ; — 
Thou  canst  not   make  the  tea  so 

fast 
As  I  can  gulp  it  down.' 

Letters,  ii.  113,  n.  3. 

2  '  Much  of  my  life  has  been  lost 
under  the  pressures  of  disease  ;  much 
has  been  trifled  away ;  and  much  has 
always  been  spent  in   provision  for 
the  day  that  was  passing  over  me.' 
Works,  v.  49. 

3  The  chief  rivals,   according    to 
Hawkins   (p.  90),  were   'a  knot   of 
booksellers,   the   proprietors    of  the 
London  Magazine'    He  adds  (p.  92) 
that  '  the  check  which  the  increasing 
demand  for  the  Gentleman's  Maga 
zine  gave  to  the  sale  of  its  rival  was 


so  great  as  to  throw  back  no  fewer 
than  70,000  copies  on  the  hands  of 
the  proprietors.'  To  make  up  this 
vast  number  he  must  have  added 
together  the  surplus  copies  of  many 
months,  if  not  years.  Cave  was 
libelled  as  a  madman.  By  way  of 
reply  he  merely  reprinted  in  his  own 
Magazine  the  most  scurrilous  of  the 
attacks. 

4  Life,  i.  113. 

5  Ante,  p.  365. 

'Casimir  Sarbiewski,  whose  name 
has  been  Latinised  into  Sarbievius 
(1646).  His  contemporaries  con 
sidered  him  as  the  greatest  rival  of 
Horace  that  had  appeared,  and  he 
received  a  gold  medal  from  the  Pope, 
who  made  him  his  laureate.  Many 
of  his  works  were  translated  into 
English  by  Dr.  Watts.'  Morfill's 
Poland,  p.  278. 

Johnson  describes  him  as  'a  writer 
who  has  many  of  the  beauties  and 
faults  of  Cowley.'  Works,  vii.  39. 

Guthrie 


378  Essay  on 


Guthrie,  the  historian1,  had  from  July  1736  composed  the 
parliamentary  speeches  for  the  Magazines  ;  but,  from  the  begin 
ning  of  the  session  which  opened  on  the  I9th  of  November  1740, 
Johnson  succeeded  to  that  department,  and  continued  it  from 
that  time  to  the  debate  on  spirituous  liquors,  which  happened  in 
the  House  of  Lords  in  February,  1742-3  2.  The  eloquence,  the 
force  of  argument,  and  the  splendor  of  language,  displayed  in 
the  several  speeches,  are  well  known,  and  universally  admired. 
The  whole  has  been  collected  in  two  volumes  by  Mr.  Stockdale, 
and  may  form  a  proper  supplement  to  this  edition.  '  That 
Johnson  was  the  author  of  the  debates  during  that  period  was 
not  generally  known ;  but  the  secret  transpired  several  years 
afterwards,  and  was  avowed  by  himself  on  the  following  occa 
sion.  Mr.  Wedderburne  (now  Lord  Loughborough),  Dr.  Johnson, 
Dr.  Francis  (the  translator  of  Horace) 3,  the  present  writer,  and 
others,  dined  with  the  late  Mr.  Foote.  An  important  debate 
towards  the  end  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  administration  being 
mentioned,  Dr.  Francis  observed,  '  That  Mr.  Pitt's  speech,  on 
that  occasion,  was  the  best  he  had  ever  read.'  He  added, 
'  That  he  had  employed  eight  years  of  his  life  in  the  study  of 
Demosthenes,  and  finished  a  translation  of  that  celebrated  orator, 
with  all  the  decorations  of  style  and  language  within  the  reach 
of  his  capacity;  but  he  had  met  with  nothing  equal  to  the 
speech  above-mentioned.'  Many  of  the  company  remembered 
the  debate  ;  and  some  passages  were  cited,  with  the  approbation 
and  applause  of  all  present.  During  the  ardour  of  conversation 
Johnson  remained  silent.  As  soon  as  the  warmth  of  praise 
subsided,  he  opened  with  these  words :  '  That  speech  I  wrote  in 
a  garret  in  Exeter-street.'  The  company  was  struck  with 
astonishment.  After  staring  at  each  other  in  silent  amaze, 
Dr.  Francis  asked,  '  How  that  speech  could  be  written  by  him?' 


^  i.  116;  ii.  52;  iv.  30.  in   a  few   weeks   that   he  preferred 

2  Ib.  i.  150,  501-512.  the  pleasures  of  London  to  the  in- 

3  Gibbon,  who  at  the  age  of  four-  struction  of  his  pupils.'     It  was  this 
teen    was    Francis's   pupil,   says: —  discovery  which   carried   Gibbon  at 
'  The    translator    of    Horace    might  so    early   an  age   to   Oxford.   Misc. 
have  taught  me  to  relish  the  Latin  Works,  i.  40. 

poets,  had  not  my  friends  discovered 

'  Sir,' 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


379 


'  Sir/  said  Johnson,  '  I  wrote  it  in  Exeter-street.  I  never  had 
been  in  the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Commons  but  once.  Cave 
had  interest  with  the  door-keepers T.  He,  and  the  persons 
employed  under  him,  gained  admittance:  they  brought  away 
the  subject  of  discussion,  the  names  of  the  speakers,  the  side 
they  took,  and  the  order  in  which  they  rose,  together  with  notes 
of  the  arguments  advanced  in  the  course  of  the  debate.  The 
whole  was  afterwards  communicated  to  rne,  and  I  composed  the 
speeches  in  the  form  which  they  now  have  in  the  Parliamentary 
debates  V  To  this  discovery  Dr.  Francis  made  answer :  *  Then, 
Sir,  you  have  exceeded  Demosthenes  himself;  for  to  say,  that 
you  have  exceeded  Francis's  Demosthenes,  would  be  saying 
nothing.'  The  rest  of  the  company  bestowed  lavish  encomiums 
on  Johnson :  one,  in  particular,  praised  his  impartiality ;  observ 
ing,  that  he  dealt  out  reason  and  eloquence  with  an  equal  hand 
to  both  parties.  '  That  is  not  quite  true,'  said  Johnson ;  '  I  saved 
appearances  tolerably  well ;  but  I  took  care  that  the  WHIG  DOGS 
should  not  have  the  best  of  it  V  The  sale  of  the  Magazine  was 


1  Some  of  the  speeches  had  been 
previously  given  in  the  Political  Stale 
of  Great  Britain.     '  These  for  the 
most  part  were  taken  by  stealth,  and 
were  compiled  from  the  information 
of   listeners  and   the   under-officers 
and  door-keepers  of  either  house ; 
but  Cave  had  an  interest  with  some 
of  the  members  of  both,  arising  from 
an  employment  he  held  in  the  post- 
office,  that  of  inspector  of  the  franks. 
...  I  have  been  informed  by  some 
who    were    much    about    him  that, 
taking  with  him  a  friend  or  two,  he 
found   means   to  procure  admission 
into    the  gallery  of   the   House   of 
Commons,    or    to    some    concealed 
station  in  the  other,  and  that  then 
they   privately  took   down  notes  of 
the  several  speeches.  Thus  furnished 
they  would  adjourn  to  a  neighbouring 
tavern,  and  compare  and  adjust  their 
notes.'     Hawkins,  p.  94. 

2  In  Appendix  A  to  vol.  i.  of  the 
Lt/e,   I   have  examined    the    whole 


question  of  Johnson's  Debates.  On 
the  above  passage  I  say  : — '  Murphy 
wrote  from  memory.  This  dinner 
with  Foote  must  have  taken  place 
at  least  nineteen  years  before  this 
account  was  published,  for  so  many 
years  had  Dr.  Francis  been  dead. 
At  the  time  when  Johnson  was  living 
in  Exeter-street  he  was  not  engaged 
on  the  magazine.  Nevertheless,  the 
main  facts  may  be  true  enough. 
Johnson  himself  told  Boswell  (Life, 
iii.  351)  that  in  Lord  Chesterfield's 
Miscellaneous  Works  (ii.  319)  there 
were  two  speeches  ascribed  to  Chester 
field  which  he  had  himself  entirely 
written.  Horace  Walpole  (Letters, 
i.  147)  complained  that  the  published 
report  of  his  own  first  speech  "  did 
not  contain  one  sentence  of  the  true 
one." ' 

3  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  speaking  in 

the    House    on    January    24,    1738 

(before  Johnson  had  begun  to  write 

the  Debates),  said  : — '  I    have   read 

greatly 


38o 


Essay  on 


greatly  increased  by  the  Parliamentary  debates J,  which  were 
continued  by  Johnson  till  the  month  of  March,  1742-3.  From 
that  time  the  Magazine  was  conducted  by  Dr.  Hawkesworth 2. 

In  1743-4,  Osborne,  the  bookseller,  who  kept  a  shop  in 
Gray's-Inn,  purchased  the  Earl  of  Oxford's  library,  at  the  price 
of  thirteen  thousand  pounds.  He  projected  a  catalogue  in 
five  octavo  volumes,  at  five  shillings  each.  Johnson  was  em 
ployed  in  that  painful  drudgery3.  He  was  likewise  to  collect 
all  such  small  tracts,  as  were  in  any  degree  worth  preserving, 
in  order  to  reprint  and  publish  the  whole  in  a  collection,  called 
'The  Harleian  Miscellany4.'  The  catalogue  was  completed; 
and  the  Miscellany  in  1749  was  published  in  eight  quarto 
volumes.  In  this  business  Johnson  was  a  day-labourer  for  im 
mediate  subsistence,  not  unlike  Gustavus  Vasa  working  in  the 
mines  of  Dalecarlia.  What  Wilcox,  a  bookseller  of  eminence  in 
the  Strand,  said  to  Johnson,  on  his  first  arrival  in  town,  was  now 
almost  confirmed.  He  lent  our  author  five  guineas,  and  then 
asked  him,  '  How  do  you  mean  to  earn  your  livelihood  in 
this  town?'  '  By  my  literary  labours,'  was  the  answer.  Wilcox, 
staring  at  him,  shook  his  head  :  '  By  your  literary  labours ! — You 
had  better  buy  a  porter's  knot.'  Johnson  used  to  tell  this 
anecdote  to  Mr.  Nichols  ;  but  he  said,  'Wilcox  was  one  of  my  best 
friends,  and  he  meant  well  V  In  fact,  Johnson,  while  employed 


debates  wherein  all  the  wit,  learning, 
and  argument  have  been  thrown  into 
one  side,  and  on  the  other  nothing  but 
what  was  low,  mean,  and  ridiculous 
...  If  any  gentleman  will  take  the 
trouble,  which,  I  own,  I  very  seldom 
do,  to  look  into  these  magazines,  he 
will  find  four  pages  wrote  against  the 
government  for  one  that  is  in  its 
favour.'  Coxe's  Walpole,  i.  570-2. 

1  The  sale,  according  to  Hawkins 
(p.  123),  rose  from  ten  to  fifteen 
thousand  copies  a  month. 

The  Private  Journal  of  Dr.  John 
Byrom  mentions  that,  in  1739,  10,000 
copies  were  printed;  and  of  the 
London  Magazine,  7,000  copies. 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  1857,  i.  149. 


2  The   Magazine   was,   I    believe, 
still   conducted  by  Cave.     Hawkes 
worth  wrote  the  Debates.    Hawkins, 
p.  132.     He  probably  in  other  ways 
supplied  Johnson's  place,  who,  after 
1743,  wrote  very  little  in  it. 

3  Life,\.  153. 

4  Ib.  i.  175  ;  Hawkins,  pp.  132-150. 

5  Life,  i.  1 02,  n.  2. 

'Any  porter  has  the  liberty  of 
bringing  goods  into  London ;  but 
may  not  carry  any  out  of  the  city, 
or  from  one  part  of  it  to  another, 
unless  he  be  a  freeman ;  otherwise 
he  is  liable  to  be  arrested.'  Dodsley's 
London,  1761,  v.  206.  See  also  W.  C. 
Hazlitt's  Livery  Companies,  1892, 
p.  154. 

in 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  381 

in  Gray's- Inn,  may  be  said  to  have  carried  a  porter's  knot. 
He  paused  occasionally,  to  peruse  the  book  that  came  to  his 
hand.  Osborne  thought  that  such  curiosity  tended  to  nothing 
but  delay,  and  objected  to  it  with  all  the  pride  and  insolence 
of  a  man,  who  knew  that  he  paid  daily  wages.  In  the  dispute 
that  of  course  ensued,  Osborne,  with  that  roughness  which  was 
natural  to  him,  enforced  his  argument  by  giving  the  lie. 
Johnson  seized  a  folio,  and  knocked  the  bookseller  down1. 
This  story  has  been  related  as  an  instance  of  Johnson's  ferocity  ; 
but  merit  cannot  always  take  the  spurns  of  the  unworthy  with 
a  patient  spirit. 

That  the  history  of  an  author  must  be  found  in  his  works  is, 
in  general,  a  true  observation 2 ;  and  was  never  more  apparent 
than  in  the  present  narrative.  Every  sera  of  Johnson's  life  is 
fixed  by  his  writings.  In  1744,  he  published  the  Life  of 
Savage  ;  and  then  projected  a  new  edition  of  Shakspeare.  As 
a  prelude  to  this  design,  he  published,  in  1745,  Miscellaneous 
Observations  on  the  Tragedy  of  Macbeth,  with  Remarks  on 
Sir  Thomas  Hanmers  Edition ;  to  which  were  prefixed,  Pro 
posals  for  a  new  Edition  of  Shakspeare,  with  a  Specimen.  Of 
this  pamphlet  Warburton,  in  the  Preface  to  Shakspeare,  has 
given  his  opinion:  'As  to  all  those  things,  which  have  been 
published  under  the  title  of  Essays,  Remarks,  Observations,  &c. 
on  Shakspeare,  if  you  except  some  critical  notes  on  Macbeth^ 
given  as  a  specimen  of  a  projected  edition,  and  written, 
as  appears,  by  a  man  of  parts  and  genius,  the  rest  are 
absolutely  below  a  serious  notice3.'  But  the  attention  of 

1  Murphy    gets    the    story    from  (1745)  when,  as  Macaulay  says,  to 
Hawkins,  who  places  the  scene  in  be   praised   by  Warburton   was   no 
Osborne's  shop.     '  The  simple  truth,'  light  thing.     And  he  did  not  know 
says  Boswell,  'I  had  from  Johnson  the  contemptuous  and  brutal  language 
himself.    "  Sir,  he  was  impertinent  to  in  which  Warburton  had  written  of 
me,  and  I  beat  him.    But  it  was  not  in  him  to  Kurd   only  two  years  after 
his  shop  ;  it  was  in  my  own  chamber.'  the  "  praise."     "  Of  this  Johnson  you 
Life,\.  154.     See  also  ante,  p.  304.  and  I,  I  believe,  think  much  alike. 

2  Life,  iv.  98.  His  remarks  have  in  them  as  much 

3  '  Johnson    always    remembered  folly  as  malignity." '     Pattison's  Es- 
with    gratitude    that    he    had    been  says,  ed.  1889,  ii.  158. 

praised   by  Warburton    at    a    time         Warburton's  letter  was  written  on 

the 


382 


Essay  on 


the  publick  was  not  excited  ;  there  was  no  friend  to  promote 
a  subscription;  and  the  project  died,  to  revive  at  a  future 
day1.  A  new  undertaking,  however,  was  soon  after  pro 
posed;  namely,  an  English  Dictionary,  upon  an  enlarged 
plan.  Several  of  the  most  opulent  booksellers  had  meditated 
a  work  of  this  kind ;  and  the  agreement  was  soon  adjusted 
between  the  parties 2.  Emboldened  by  this  connection,  Johnson 
thought  of  a  better  habitation  than  he  had  hitherto  known. 
He  had  lodged  with  his  wife  in  courts  and  alleys  about  the 
Strand 3 ;  but  now,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  his  arduous 


Oct.  31,  1765,  not  two,  but  twenty 
years  after  this  'praise.'  It  was  pro 
voked  by  the  severe  criticisms  of 
his  Shakespeare  by  Johnson  in  the 
edition  which  he  had  just  published. 
Letters  from  a  Late  Eminent  Pre 
late,  ist  ed.,  p.  272. 

1  Dr.  Anderson,  in  his  Life  of 
Johnson,  1815,  p.  106,  gives  a  letter 
dated  April  u,  1745,  in  which  Ton- 
son  threatens  Cave  with  a  Chancery 
suit  if  he  prints  Shakespeare.  That, 
he  says,  'will  be  the  method  we 
shall  take  with  any  one  who  shall 
attack  our  property  in  this  or  any 
other  copy  that  we  have  fairly  bought 
and  paid  for.'  The  University  of 
Oxford,  it  was  true,  had  lately  pub 
lished  Hanmer's  edition ;  but,  '  if 
you  call  on  me,'  Tonson  continues, 
'  I  will  give  my  reasons  why  we 
rather  chuse  to  proceed  with  the 
University  by  way  of  reprisal  for 
their  scandalous  invasion  of  our  rights 
than  by  law.' 

Lord  Camden,  in  the  judgment 
which  he  gave  in  the  House  of  Lords 
on  Feb.  22,  1774,  on  the  great  copy 
right  case  says  :  —  '  Shakespeare's 
works,  which  he  left  carelessly  be 
hind  him  in  town  when  he  retired 
from  it,  were  surely  given  to  the 
public  if  ever  author's  were ;  but 
two  prompters,  or  players  behind  the 
scenes,  laid  hold  of  them,  and  the 


present  proprietors  pretend  to  derive 
that  copy  from  them,  for  which  the 
author  himself  never  received  a  far 
thing.'  Par/.  Hist.,  xvii.  1000. 

For  the  booksellers'  claim  of  copy 
right  see  Life,  i.  437,  and  Letters  of 
Hume  to  Strahan,  p.  275,  where  I 
have  examined  it  at  some  length. 

They  had  undertaken  to  publish 
Warburton's  Shakespeare  which  ap 
peared  in  1747,  and  so  would  not 
in  1745  suffer  a  rival  edition.  In 
1756  they  themselves  engaged  John 
son  as  editor.  Life,  i.  175,  318; 
Hawkins,  p.  361. 

'Warburton  (said  Quin  the  player) 
ought  to  have  stuck  to  his  own  Bible, 
and  not  to  have  meddled  with  ours.' 
Nichols,  Lit.  Hist.,  ii.  840. 

2  Life,  i.  182.     Hawkins,  who  had 
seen  the  original  contract,  says  that 
it  was  dated  June  18, 1746.    Hawkins, 
p.  345.     I  had  not  noticed  this  fact 
when  I  wrote  my  note  2  on  vol.  i. 
p.  176  of  the  Life,  where  1774  is  a 
misprint  for   1747.     It  adds   to  the 
absurdity  of  Croker's  suspicion  that 
Johnson  was  at  this  time  absent  or 
concealed  on  account   of  some   dif 
ficulties   which   had   arisen   through 
the  rebellion  of  1745. 

3  For  a  list  of  his  lodgings,  which 
had  not  all  been  about  the  Strand, 
see  Life,  iii.  405,  n.  6. 

undertaking, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  383 

undertaking,  and  to  be  near  his  printer  and  friend  Mr.  Strahan, 
he  ventured  to  take  a  house  in  Gough-square,  Fleet-street x. 
He  was  told  that  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield  was  a  friend  to  his 
undertaking ;  and,  in  consequence  of  that  intelligence,  he  pub 
lished,  in  1747,  The  Plan  of  a  Dictionary  of  the  English 
Language.,  addressed  to  the  Right  Honourable  Philip  Dormer, 
Earl  of  Chesterfield,  one  of  his  Majesty  s  principal  Secretaries 
of  State 2.  Mr.  Whitehead,  afterwards  Poet  Laureat,  undertook 
to  convey  the  manuscript  to  his  Lordship  :  the  consequence  was 
an  invitation  from  Lord  Chesterfield  to  the  author3.  A  stronger 
contrast  of  characters  could  not  be  brought  together ;  the 
Nobleman,  celebrated  for  his  wit,  and  all  the  graces  of  polite 
behaviour;  the  Author,  conscious  of  his  own  merit,  towering 
in  idea  above  all  competition,  versed  in  scholastic  logic,  but 
a  stranger  to  the  arts  of  polite  conversation,  uncouth,  vehement, 
and  vociferous.  The  coalition  was  too  unnatural 4.  Johnson 
expected  a  Maecenas,  and  was  disappointed5.  No  patronage, 
no  assistance  followed.  Visits  were  repeated  ;  but  the  reception 
was  not  cordial.  Johnson  one  day  was  left  a  full  hour,  waiting 
in  an  anti-chamber,  till  a  gentleman  should  retire,  and  leave  his 
Lordship  at  leisure.  This  was  the  famous  Colley  Cibber. 
Johnson  saw  him  go,  and,  fired  with  indignation,  rushed  out 
of  the  house6.  What  Lord  Chesterfield  thought  of  his  visitor 

1  Life,  i.  1 88.     Strahan    lived    at  who  carried  it  to  Lord  Chesterfield.' 

No.    10,    Little    New    Street,    Shoe  Id.  i.  184. 

Lane.     Napier's  Boswell,  iii.  560.  4  '  In  a  short  time  the  moral,  pious 

3  For  the  'casual  excuse  for  lazi-  Johnson    and    the    gay,    dissipated 

ness '  which  led  Johnson  to  address  Beauclerk  were  companions.   "What 

his  Plan  to  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  a  coalition  ! "  said  Garrick  when  he 

see  Life,  i.  183.  heard  of  this.'     Ib.  i.  249. 

3  '  Dr.  Taylor  told  me,  that  John-  *  Of  Andrew  Millar,  the  printer, 
son  sent  his  Plan  to  him  in  manu-  Johnson  said  'he  is  the  Maecenas  of 
script,  for  his  perusal ;  and  that  when  the  age.'  Ib.  i.  287,  n.  3. 
it  was  lying  upon  his  table,  Mr.  6  Hawkins  (p.  189)  tells  the  same 
William  Whitehead  happened  to  pay  story,  which  had  long  been  current, 
him  a  visit,  and  being  shewn  it,  was  'But,'  writes  Boswell,  'Johnson  him- 
highly  pleased  with  such  parts  of  it  self  assured  me,  that  there  was  not 
as  he  had  time  to  read,  and  begged  the  least  foundation  for  it.  He  told 
to  take  it  home  with  him,  which  he  me,  that  there  never  was  any  par- 
was  allowed  to  do ;  that  from  him  ticular  incident  which  produced  a 
it  got  into  the  hands  of  a  noble  Lord,  quarrel  between  Lord  Chesterfield 

may 


384 


Essay  on 


may  be  seen  in  a  passage  in  one  of  that  Nobleman's  letters 
to  his  son  (Letter  CCXli).  *  There  is  a  man,  whose  moral 
character,  deep  learning,  and  superior  parts,  I  acknowledge, 
admire,  and  respect ;  but  whom  it  is  so  impossible  for  me  to 
love,  that  I  am  almost  in  a  fever  whenever  I  am  in  his  company. 
His  figure  (without  being  deformed)  seems  made  to  disgrace  or 
ridicule  the  common  structure  of  the  human  body.  His  legs 
and  arms  are  never  in  the  position  which,  according  to  the 
situation  of  his  body,  they  ought  to  be  in,  but  constantly 
employed  in  committing  acts  of  hostility  upon  the  Graces.  He 
throws  any  where,  but  down  his  throat,  whatever  he  means  to 
drink  ;  and  only  mangles  what  he  means  .to  carve.  Inattentive 
to  all  the  regards  of  social  life,  he  mistimes  or  misplaces  every 
thing.  He  disputes  with  heat  and  indiscriminately,  mindless 
of  the  rank,  character,  and  situation  of  those  with  whom  he 
disputes ;  absolutely  ignorant  of  the  several  gradations  of 
familiarity  and  respect,  he  is  exactly  the  same  to  his  superiors, 
his  equals,  and  his  inferiors ;  and  therefore,  by  a  necessary 
consequence,  absurd  to  two  of  the  three.  Is  it  possible  to  love 
such  a  man  ?  No.  The  utmost  I  can  do  for  him  is,  to  consider 
him  a  respectable  Hottentot  V  Such  was  the  idea  entertained 


and  him ;  but  that  his  Lordship's 
continued  neglect  was  the  reason 
why  he  resolved  to  have  no  con 
nection  with  him.'  Life,  i.  257. 

1  I  have  shewn  that  it  was  not  of 
Johnson  but  of  George  Lyttelton  that 
Chesterfield  was  writing.  Life,  i. 
267  ;  Dr.  Johnson,  His  Friends  and 
his  Critics,  p.  214. 

'Johnson  said  to  me  many  years 
before  he  published  his  Preface  [to 
Lyttelton's  Poems],  "  Lord  Lyttelton 
was  a  worthy  good  man,  but  so  un 
gracious  that  he  did  not  know  how 
to  be  a  Gentleman."'  MS.  note  by 
Mr.  Hussey,  in  Mr.  H.  Symonds's 
copy  of  the  Life. 

I  do  not  know  when  Hottentot  first 
came  into  common  use.  Addison,  in 
the  Freeholder  for  Jan.  6,  1716,  de 
scribes  how  a  Hottentot,  who  had 


been  brought  to  England,  and  'in 
a  great  measure  polished  out  of  his 
natural  barbarity,  upon  being  carried 
back  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
mixed  in  a  kind  of  transport  with 
his  countrymen,  brutalized  with  them 
in  their  habits  and  manners,  and 
would  never  again  return  to  his 
foreign  acquaintance.' 

Dr.  Watts,  in  the  first  page  of  his 
Logick,  published  in  1724,  says  that 
'the  improvement  of  reason  hath 
raised  the  learned  and  the  prudent 
in  the  European  world  almost  as 
much  above  the  Hottentots,  and  other 
savages  of  Africa,  as  those  savages 
are  by  nature  superior  to  the  birds, 
the  beasts,  and  the  fishes. 

Fielding,  in  Tom  Jones  (Bk.  xvi. 
ch.  8),  describes  Lady  Bellaston  as 
being  '  much  better  pleased  with  the 

by 


Johnson  s  Life  and  Genius. 


385 


by  Lord  Chesterfield.  After  the  incident  of  Colley  Gibber, 
Johnson  never  repeated  his  visits.  In  his  high  and  decisive  tone, 
he  has  been  often  heard  to  say,  '  Lord  Chesterfield  is  a  Wit 
among  Lords,  and  a  Lord  among  Wits  V 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1747,  Garrick,  in  conjunction  with 
Lacy,  became  patentee  of  Drury-lane  Playhouse2.  For  the 
opening  of  the  theatre,  at  the  usual  time,  Johnson  wrote  for  his 
friend  the  well-known  prologue 3,  which,  to  say  no  more  of  it, 
may  at  least  be  placed  on  a  level  with  Pope's  to  the  tragedy  of 
Cato.  The  play-house  being  now  under  Garrick's  direction, 


prospect  of  making  the  proposals  to 
a  woman  of  sense,  and  who  knew 
the  world,  than  to  a  gentleman  whom 
she  honoured  with  the  appellation  of 
Hottentot.' 

Horace  Walpole,  writing  of  'the 
atric  genius,'  says  : — '  In  Southern  it 
seemed  a  genuine  ray  of  nature  and 
Shakspeare,  but  falling  on  an  age 
still  more  Hottentot  was  stifled  in 
those  gross  and  barbarous  productions, 
tragi-comedies.'  Quoted  in  Warton's 
Pope's  Works,  iv.  198. 

'  The  young  men  of  this  day  are 
quite  Hottentots,'  wrote  in  1797  the 
author  of  the  Life  of  G.  M.  Berkeley. 
Berkeley's  Poems ;  p.  313. 

A  Hottentot  was  a  good  deal  lower 
than  a  Goth. 

1  'This  man  (said  he)   I  thought 
had  been  a  Lord  among  wits ;   but, 
I  find,  he  is  only  a  wit  among  Lords  !' 
Life,  i.  266. 

2  The  partnership  lasted  till  1773. 
Davies's    Life   of   Garrick,   i.   100 ; 
ii.  289. 

3  Life,  i.  181  ;   Works,  i.  23. 

In  this  Prologue  Johnson,  speaking 
of  '  the  wits  of  Charles,'  says  :  — 
'  Themselves   they  studied,  as  they 

felt  they  writ, 

Intrigue   was   plot,  obscenity   was 
wit; 

VOL.  I. 


Yet    bards    like    these    aspir'd    to 
lasting  praise, 

And  proudly  hoped  to  pimp  in  future 

days.' 

He  concludes : — 
'Bid  scenick  virtue  form  the  rising  age, 

And  truth  diffuse  her  radiance  from 

the  stage.' 

This  contrasts  oddly  with  an  at 
tempt  made  by  Garrick  only  two 
years  later.  Johnson  says  that  Ot- 
way's  Friendship  in  Fashion  '  was, 
upon  its  revival  at  Drury  Lane  in 
1749,  hissed  off  the  stage  for  immo 
rality  and  obscenity.'  Works,  vii.  174. 
'The  wits  of  Charles'  is  perhaps 
borrowed  from  The  Spectator,  No.  5, 
where  Addison  writes  of  '  the  wits  of 
King  Charles's  time.' 

The  Prologue,  writes  Hawkins  (p. 
198),  'failed  in  a  great  measure  of 
its  effect ;  the  town,  it  is  true,  sub 
mitted  to  the  revival  of  Shakespeare's 
plays,  recommended,  as  they  were, 
by  the  exquisite  acting  of  Mr.  Garrick ; 
but  in  a  few  winters  they  discovered 
an  impatience  for  pantomimes  and 
ballad-farces.  Mr.  Garrick  gave  up 
the  hope  of  correcting  the  public 
taste,  and  became  so  indifferent 
about  it,  that  he  once  told  me  that, 
if  the  town  required  him  to  exhibit 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress  in  a  drama, 
he  would  do  it.' 
c  c  Johnson 


386  Essay  on 


Johnson  thought  the  opportunity  fair  to  think  of  his  tragedy  of 
Irene,  which  was  his  whole  stock  on  his  first  arrival  in  town, 
in  the  year  1737.  That  play  was  accordingly  put  into  rehearsal 
in  January  1749.  As  a  precursor  to  prepare  the  way,  and 
awaken  the  public  attention,  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes, 
a  Poem  in  Imitation  of  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal,  by  the 
Author  of  London,  was  published  in  the  same  month  T.  In  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  for  February,  1749,  we  find  that  the 
tragedy  of  Irene  was  acted  at  Drury-lane,  on  Monday,  February 
the  6th,  and  from  that  time,  without  interruption,  to  Monday, 
February  the  2oth,  being  in  all  thirteen  nights 2.  Since  that  time 
it  has  not  been  exhibited  on  any  stage.  Irene  may  be  added  to 
some  other  plays  in  our  language,  which  have  lost  their  place 
in  the  theatre,  but  continue  to  please  in  the  closet.  During 
the  representation  of  this  piece,  Johnson  attended  every  night 
behind  the  scenes.  Conceiving  that  his  character,  as  an  author, 
required  some  ornament  for  his  person,  he  chose,  upon  that 
occasion,  to  decorate  himself  with  a  handsome  waistcoat,  and 
a  gold-laced  hat.  The  late  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerc,  who  had 
had  a  great  deal  of  that  humour  which  pleases  the  more  for 
seeming  undesigned 3,  used  to  give  a  pleasant  description  of  this 
Green-room  finery,  as  related  by  the  author  himself ;  *  But,'  said 

1  Life,  i.  192.  Gibber's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  v.  339, 
Irene  &&&  Tom  Jones  are  announced     where  it  is  stated  that  'George  Lillo 

in    the    Gentleman's  Magazine    for  rather  chose  George  Barnwell  should 

February,  p.  96.  take  its  fate  in  the  summer  than  run 

2  In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  the  more  hazardous  fate  of  encounter- 
1749,  p.  76,  it  is  stated  that   'Irene  ing  the  winter  criticks.' 

was  acted  from  Monday,  Feb.  6,  to  3  Johnson,  speaking  of  Beauclerk, 

Monday,  Feb.  20,  inclusive.'  Accord-  said,  that  '  no  man  ever  was  so  free 

ing  to  Boswell  and  Hawkins,  it  was  when  he  was  going  to    say  a  good 

only  acted  nine  nights.     Life,  i.  197  ;  thing,  from   a   look   that    expressed 

Hawkins,  p.  199.  that  it  was   coming  ;    or,  when    he 

Gibbon,  in  a  note  to  the  Decline  had   said    it,   from   a   look  that  ex- 

and  Fall,  ed.  1802,  xii.  223,  attacks  pressed  that  it  had  come.'    Life,  ">• 

'the  extravagance   of   the  rant'   in  425. 

one  of  Mahomet's   speeches.     '  His  Another  time  he   said  : — '  Every- 

passion     soars    above    sense    and  thing  comes  from  him  so  easily.     It 

reason.'  appears  to  me    that  I  labour  when 

The  winter  season  was  a  trying  I  say  a  good  thing.'    Ib.  v.  76. 
time  for  a  new  play,  as  is  shown  in 

Johnson, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  387 

Johnson,  with  great  gravity,  '  I  soon  laid  aside  my  gold-laced 
hat,  lest  it  should  make  me  proud  V  The  amount  of  the  three 
benefit  nights  for  the  tragedy  of  Irene,  it  is  to  be  feared,  was  not 
very  considerable,  as  the  profit,  that  stimulating  motive,  never 
invited  the  author  to  another  dramatic  attempt2.  Some  years 
afterwards,  when  the  present  writer  was  intimate  with  Garrick, 
and  knew  Johnson  to  be  in  distress,  he  asked  the  manager  why 
he  did  not  produce  another  tragedy  for  his  Lichfield  friend? 
Garrick's  answer  was  remarkable  :  '  When  Johnson  writes 
tragedy,  declamation  roars,  and  passion  sleeps*:  when  Shakspeare 
wrote,  he  dipped  his  pen  in  his  own  heart.' 


There  may,  perhaps,  be  a  degree  of(sameness)in  this  regular 
way  of  tracing  an  author  from  one  work  to  another,  and  the 
reader  may  feel  the  effect  of  a  tedious  monotony;  but  in  the 
life  of  Johnson  there  are  no  other  landmarks.  He  was  now 
forty  years  old,  and  had  mixed  but  little  with  the  world  4.  He 
followed  no  profession,  transacted  no  business,  and  was  a  stranger 
to  what  is  called  a  town-life.  We  are  now  arrived  at  the 
brightest  period  he  had  hitherto  known.  His  name  broke  out 
upon  mankind  with  a  degree  of  lustre  that  promised  a  triumph 
over  all  his  difficulties.  The  Life  of  Savage  was  admired  as 

1  '  He  humourously    observed  to  Till  declamation  roared  whilst 
Mr.  Langton,   "  that   when  in  that  passion  slept.' 

dress  he  could  not  treat  people  with  Johnson's  Prologue  on  the  Opening 

the  same  ease  as  when  in  his  usual  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre. 

plain  clothes."  '     Life,  i.  200.  4   Boswell,   writing  of  this    time, 

2  Mr.  Croker  says  that  '  it  appears  says  :  —  '  Nothing  can  be  more  erro- 
by  a  MS.  note  in  Isaac  Reed's  copy  neous  than  the  notion  which  some 
of  Murphy's  Life,  that  the  receipts  persons  have  entertained,  that  John- 
of  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  nights,  son  was  then  a  retired  authour,  igno- 
after  deducting  sixty  guineas  a  night  rant  of  the  world  ;   and,  of  conse- 
for    the    expenses     of    the    house,  quence,  that  he  wrote  only  from  his 
amounted    to   ^195    i"js.:    Johnson  imagination     when     he     described 
cleared    therefore,   with    the    copy-  characters  and  manners.      He  said 
right,  very  nearly  ^300.'  to   me,  that   before   he   wrote    that 

By    his   London    and    Vanity   of  work  [The  Rambler},  he  had  been 

Human  Wishes  he  only  made  twenty-  "  running  about  the  world,"  as  he 

five  guineas.     Life,  i.  124,  193,  n.  expressed  it,  more  than  almost  any 

3  'From  bard  to  bard   the  frigid  body.'     Life,\.  215. 

caution  crept, 

C  c  2  a  beautiful 


388 


Essay  on 


a  beautiful  and  instructive  piece  of  biography.  The  two  Imita 
tions  of  Juvenal  were  thought  to  rival  even  the  excellence  of 
Pope ;  and  the  tragedy  of  Irene,  though  uninteresting  on  the 
stage,  was  universally  admired  in  the  closet,  for  the  propriety 
of  the  sentiments,  the  richness  of  the  language,  and  the  general 
harmony  of  the  whole  composition.  His  fame  was  widely 
diffused  ;  and  he  had  made  his  agreement  with  the  booksellers 
for  his  English  Dictionary  at  the  sum  of  fifteen  hundred  guineas  ; 
part  of  which  was  to  be,  from  time  to  time,  advanced  in  proportion 
to  the  progress  of  the  work  x.  This  was  a  certain  fund  for  his 
support,  without  being  obliged  to  write  fugitive  pieces  for  the 
petty  supplies  of  the  day.  Accordingly  we  find  that,  in  1749, 
he  established  a  club,  consisting  of  ten  in  number,  at  Horseman's, 
in  Ivy-lane,  on  every  Tuesday  evening 2.  This  is  the  first  scene 
of  social  life  to  which  Johnson  can  be  traced  out  of  his  own 
house.  The  members  of  this  little  society  were,  Samuel  John 
son  ;  Dr.  Salter3  (father  of  the  late  Master  of  the  Charter-house) ; 
Dr.  Hawkesworth 4 ;  Mr.  Ryland  5.  a  merchant;  Mr.  Payne6, 


1  Post,  p.  406 ;    Life,  i.  183,  304  ; 
Letters,  i.  25,  27. 

2  Life,  i.   190 ;    Letters,    ii.    359, 
363-4;     388,     390;     Hawkins,    pp. 
219-235,    250-259.     'Thither,'   says 
Hawkins    (p.    219),   '  he    constantly 
resorted,  and  with  a  disposition  to 
please  and   be  pleased  would   pass 
those  hours  in  a  free  and  unrestrained 
interchange     of    sentiments    which 
otherwise  had  been  spent  at  home 
in  painful  reflection.'     *  It  required,' 
Hawkins    adds    (p.    250),   '  on    the 
part  of  us  who  considered  ourselves 
as    his    disciples    some    degree    of 
compliance  with   his   political   pre 
judices  ;    the    greater    part    of    our 
company  were  Whigs,  and  I  was  not 
a  Tory,  and  we  all  saw  the  prudence 
of   avoiding  to   call  the   then    late 
adventurer  in  Scotland,  or  his  ad 
herents,  by  those  names  which  others 
hesitated  not  to  give  them,  or  to  bring 
to  remembrance  what   had   passed 
a  few  years  before  on  Tower  Hill.' 


Bathurst,  who  was  '  a  very  good 
hater,'  and  who  '  hated  a  Whig,'  must 
have  had  here  to  veil  his  hate. 

3  '  Dr.  Samuel  Salter  was  a  Cam 
bridge  divine.     He  could  carry  his 
recollection  back  to  the  time  when 
Dr.  Samuel  Clarke  was  yet  a  mem 
ber  of  that  University,  and  would 
frequently  entertain   us  with   parti 
culars   respecting   him.'      Hawkins, 

p.  220. 

4  Life,  i.  190,  n.  3  ;  Letters,  i.  412  ; 
ii.  7;    Hawkins,  pp.  220,  252,  310. 
Ante,  p.  1 66. 

5  John  Ryland  was  Hawkesworth's 
brother-in-law,   and    one    of  John 
son's  correspondents.    Letters,  i.  56, 
n.  3. 

6  John    Payne,    afterwards    chief 
accountant  of  the  Bank  of  England. 
Hawkins,  p.  220;    Letters,   ii.  363, 
n.  i.     Johnson,  when  he  himself  was 
rapidly  sinking,  wrote  to  Ryland  : — 
'  To  hear  that  dear  Payne  is  better 
gives  me  great  delight.'     Ib.  ii.  428. 

a  bookseller, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


389 


a  bookseller,  in  Paternoster  row ;  Mr.  Samuel  Dyer,  a  learned 
young  man ;  Dr.  William  M'Ghie x,  a  Scotch  physician ; 
Dr.  Edmund  Barker 2,  a  young  physician  ;  Dr.  Bathurst,  another 
young  physician  ;  and  Sir  John  Hawkins.  This  list  is  given  by 
Sir  John,  as  it  should  seem,  with  no  other  view  than  to  draw 
a  spiteful  and  malevolent  character  of  almost  every  one  of  them. 
Mr.  Dyer,  whom  Sir  John  says  he  loved  with  the  affection  of 
a  brother 3,  meets  with  the  harshest  treatment,  because  it  was  his 
maxim,  that  to  live  in  peace  with  mankind,  and  in  a  temper  to  do 
good  offices,  was  the  most  essential  part  of  our  duty*.  That 
notion  of  moral  goodness  gave  umbrage  to  Sir  John  Hawkins, 
and  drew  down  upon  the  memory  of  his  friend  the  bitterest 


Ryland  and  Payne  were  among  the 
four  survivors  of  the  old  Club  who 
dined  together  a  few  times  in  1783-4. 
Letters,  ii.  358,  363,  388,  390. 

1  M'Ghie  had  served  as  a  volunteer 
on  the  side  of  government  in  1745. 
'  He  was  a   learned,  ingenious  and 
modest  man,  and  one  of  those  few 
of  his  country  whom  Johnson  could 
endure.   To  say  the  truth,  he  treated 
him   with    great   civility,   and    may 
almost  be  said  to  have  loved  him.' 
Hawkins,  p.  233. 

2  Barker,  like  Dyer,  had  studied 
at  Leyden.     *  He  was  an  excellent 
classical  scholar,  a  deep  metaphy 
sician,   and    had    read    the    Italian 
poets ;    but   he   was    a    thoughtless 
young  man,  and  in  all  his  habits  of 
dress  and  appearance  so  slovenly  as 
made  him  the  jest  of  all  his  com 
panions.    Physicians  in  his  time  were 
used  to  be  full  dressed ;  and  in  his 
garb  of  a  full  suit,  a  brown  tye-wig 
with  a  knot  over  one  shoulder,  and  a 
long  yellow-hilted  sword,  and  his  hat 
under  his  arm  he  was  a  caricature. 
In  his  religious  principles  he  pro 
fessed  himself  an  Unitarian,  for  which 
Johnson  so  often  snubbed  him,  that 
his  visits  to  us  became  less  and  less 
frequent.'     Ib.  p.  233. 


3  Hawkins  writes  (p.  230),  *  whom 
I  once  loved  with  the  affection  of 
a  brother.' 

4  Hawkins  is   malignant  enough, 
but   Murphy  does    not    quote    him 
fairly.    He  had  described  how  Dyer, 
who  had   been  brought  up  for  the 
dissenting  ministry,   had  sunk  into 
sloth  and    materialism.      He  came 
at  last  to  think  '  that  those  mistook 
their  interest  and  shewed  their  igno 
rance  of  human  life  who  abstained 
from  any  pleasure  that  disturbed  not 
the  quiet  of  families  or  the  order  of 
society  ;    that  natural  appetites  re 
quired    gratification ;     that  the    in 
dulgence  of  the   irascible    passions 
alone  was  vice ;   and  that  to  live  in 
peace  with  all  mankind,  &c.,'  p.  230. 

Hawkins,  in  this  character  of  Dyer, 
according  to  M alone  (Prior's  Life  of 
M alone,  p.  419)  aims  a  stab  at  the 
two  Burkes.  Dyer,  he  says,  lost 
his  fortune  '  by  contracting  a  fatal 
intimacy  with  some  persons  of  des 
perate  fortunes  who  were  dealers  in 
India  stock.'  These  persons,  says 
Malone,  were  Edmund  Burke  and 
his  cousin.  Dyer  met  Edmund 
Burke  at  the  Literary  Club,  of  which 
they  were  both  members.  Life,  i. 
478. 

imputations. 


390 


Essay  on 


imputations.  Mr.  Dyer,  however,  was  admired  and  loved 
through  life.  He  was  a  man  of  literature  *.  Johnson  loved  to 
enter  with  him  into  a  discussion  of  metaphysical,  moral,  and 
critical  subjects ;  in  those  conflicts,  exercising  his  talents,  and, 
according  to  his  custom,  always  contending  for  victory2. 
Dr.  Bathurst  was  the  person  on  whom  Johnson  fixed  his 
affection.  He  hardly  ever  spoke  of  him  without  tears  in  his 
eyes3.  It  was  from  him,  who  was  a  native  of  Jamaica,  that 


1  On  a  point  of  Latinity  Johnson 
once  said  to  him: — 'Sir,   I  beg  to 
have  your  judgement,  for  I  know  your 
nicety.'  Life,  iv.  1 1.   Burke  described 
him  as   'a  man   of   profound    and 
general  erudition.'     Ib.  n.  i. 

2  Ante,  p.  376.     '  He    owned    he 
sometimes  talked  for  victory.'     Life, 
v.  17.     '  Care  must  be  taken  to  dis 
tinguish  between  Johnson  when  he 
"talked  for  victory,"  and  Johnson 
when  he  had  no  desire  but  to  inform 
and  illustrate.'     Ib.  iv.  in. 

Dyer  was  little  likely  to  have 
entered  into  such  a  contest.  Accord 
ing  to  Malone  'he  was  so  modest 
and  reserved,  that  he  frequently  sat 
silent  in  company  for  an  hour,  and 
seldom  spoke  unless  appealed  to.' 
Ib.  iv.  n,  n.  i. 

3  Ib.  i.   190,   242,    n.  i ;    Letters, 
i.  32 ;  ante,  p.  158.  '  Bathurst  thought 
of   becoming    an    eminent   London 
physician,   and  omitted   no    means 
to  attain  that  character :  he  studied 
hard,  dressed  well,  and   associated 
with  those  who  were  likely  to  bring 
him  forward,  but   he  failed  in  his 
endeavours,  and  shortly  before  his 
leaving  England  [for  the  Havannah] 
confessed    to   Johnson  that   in   the 
course  of  ten  years'  exercise  of  his 
faculty  he  had  never  opened  his  hand 
to  more  than  one  guinea.'  Hawkins, 

P-  235- 

Johnson,   who   'had    in    general 
a  peculiar  pleasure  in  the  company 


of  physicians'  (Life,  iv.  293),  had 
three  of  them  in  his  Club.  Of  these, 
'  M'Ghie,  failing  in  his  hope  of  getting 
forward  in  his  profession,  died  of 
a  broken  heart,  and  was  buried  by 
a  contribution  of  his  friends '  (Haw 
kins,  p.  233) ;  Barker  '  died  in  ob 
scurity'  (Ib.  p.  234),  and  Bathurst, 
'  missing  of  success,'  went  as  '  phy 
sician  to  the  army  that  was  sent  on 
the  expedition  against  the  Havan 
nah,'  where  he  died  of  fever  (ib. 
p.  235).  According  to  Hawkins, 
Bathurst's  failure  drew  from  John 
son  the  following  reflection  which 
many  years  later  he  inserted  in  his 
Life  of  Akenside  :  '  A  physician 
in  a  great  city  seems  to  be  the 
mere  plaything  of  fortune ;  his 
degree  of  reputation  is  for  the  most 
part  totally  casual ;  they  that  em 
ploy  him  know  not  his  excellence ; 
they  that  reject  him  know  not  his 
deficience.  By  any  acute  observer, 
who  had  looked  on  the  transactions 
of  the  medical  world  for  half  a  cen 
tury,  a  very  curious  book  might  be 
written  on  the  Fortune  of  Physicians! 
Works,  viii.  471. 

'  Hawkins,  remarking  on  '  the  very 
many  ignorant  men  who  have  been 
known  to  succeed  in  the  profession,' 
adds  in  a  note,  'so  ignorant  as  to 
request  of  the  College  [of  Physicians] 
the  indulgence  of  an  examination  in 
English.' 

Johnson 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


Johnson  received  into  his  service  Frank,  the  black  servant, 
whom,  on  account  of  his  master,  he  valued  to  the  end  of  his 
life  x.  At  the  time  of  instituting  the  club  in  Ivy-lane,  Johnson 
had  projected  the  Rambler"2.  The  title  was  most  probably 
suggested  by  the  Wanderer ;  a  poem  which  he  mentions,  with 
the  warmest  praise,  in  the  Life  of  Savage3.  With  the  same 
spirit  of  independence  with  which  he  wished  to  live,  it  was  now 
his  pride  to  write.  He  communicated  his  plan  to  none  of  his 
friends 4 :  he  desired  no  assistance,  relying  entirely  on  his  own 
fund,  and  the  protection  of  the  Divine  Being,  which  he  implored 
in  a  solemn  form  of  prayer,  composed  by  himself  for  the 
occasion5.  Having  formed  a  resolution  to  undertake  a  work 
that  might  be  of  use  and  honour  to  his  country,  he  thought, 
with  Milton,  that  this  was  not  to  be  obtained  '  but  by  devout 
prayer  to  that  Eternal  Spirit  that  [who]  can  enrich  with  all 
utterance  and  knowledge,  and  send  [sends]  out  his  seraphim 
with  the  hallowed  fire  of  his  altar,  to  touch  and  purify  the  lips 
of  whom  he  pleases 6.' 


1  Life,  i.  239 ;  iv.  401 ;  ante,  p.  291. 
f  Soon  after  the  decease  of  Mrs.  John 
son  the  father  of  Dr.  Bathurst  ar 
rived  in  England  from  Jamaica,  and 
brought  with  him  a  negro-servant, 
a  native  of  that  island,  whom  he 
caused  to  be  baptised  and  named 
Francis  Barber,  and  sent  for  instruc 
tion  to  Barton  upon  Tees  in  York 
shire  ;  upon  the  decease  of  Captain 
Bathurst,  for  so  he  was  called,  Francis 
went  to  live  with  his  son,  who  wil 
lingly  parted  with  him  to  Johnson. 
The  uses  for  which  he  was  intended 
to  serve  this  his  last  master  were  not 
very  apparent,  for  Diogenes  himself 
never  wanted  a  servant  less  than  he 
seemed  to  do  ...  He  placed  him  at 
a  school  at  Bishop  Stortford,  and 
kept  him  there  five  years;  and,  as 
Mrs.  Williams  was  used  to  say,  who 
would  frequently  reproach  him  with 
his  indiscretion  in  this  instance,  ex 
pended  .£300  in  an  endeavour  to 
have  him  taught  Latin  and  Greek.' 


Hawkins,  pp.  326-8.  Francis  en 
tered  Johnson's  service  a  fortnight 
after  Mrs.  Johnson's  death.  Life, 
i.  239. 

2  According  to  Nichols  (Lit.  Anec. 
ix.  501)  the  Club  was  known  as  the 
Ramblers'   Club.      If  so  the  name 
must   have  been  given   some  time 
after  its  foundation. 

See  Life,  i.  202  for  the  origin  of 
the  name  of  The  Rambler.  In  the 
list  of  Periodical  Publications  in 
Nichols's  Lit.  Anec.\\\\.^^  is  a  paper 
under  this  name  published  in  1712. 

3  '  From    a    poem    so    diligently 
laboured,  and  so  successfully  finished, 
it  might  be  reasonably  expected  that 
he  should  have  gained  considerable 
advantage  ;  nor  can  it  without  some 
degree  of  indignation  and  concern 
be  told,  that  he  sold  the  copy  for  ten 
guineas.'     Works,  viii.  131. 

4  Hawkins,  p.  265. 

5  Ante,  p.  9. 

6  The  Reason  of  Church  Govern- 

Having 


392  Essay  on 


Having  invoked  the  special  protection  of  Heaven,  and  by  that 
act  of  piety  fortified  his  mind,  he  began  the  great  work  of  the 
Rambler.  The  first  number  was  published  on  Tuesday,  March 
the  aoth,  1750;  and  from  that  time  was  continued  regularly 
every  Tuesday  and  Saturday  for  the  space  of  two  years,  when  it 
was  finally  closed  on  Saturday,  March  14,  1752*.  As  it  began 
with  motives  of  piety,  so  it  appears,  that  the  same  religious  spirit 
glowed  with  unabating  ardour  to  the  last.  His  conclusion  is : 
*  The  Essays  professedly  serious,  if  I  have  been  able  to  execute 
my  own  intentions,  will  be  found  exactly  conformable  to 
the  precepts  of  Christianity,  without  any  accommodation  to  the 
licentiousness  and  levity  of  the  present  age.  I  therefore  look 
back  on  this  part  of  my  work  with  pleasure,  which  no  [blame 
or  praise  of]  man  shall  diminish  or  augment.  I  shall  never  envy 
the  honours  which  wit  and  learning  obtain  in  any  other  cause, 
if  I  can  be  numbered  among  the  writers  who  have  given  ardour 
to  virtue,  and  confidence  to  truth.'  The  whole  number  of 
Essays  amounted  to  two  hundred  and  eight2.  Addison's,  in 
the  Spectator,  are  more  in  number,  but  not  half  in  point  of 
quantity 3.  Addison  was  not  bound  to  publish  on  stated  days  ; 
he  could  watch  the  ebb  and  flow  of  his  genius,  and  send  his 
paper  to  the  press  when  his  own  taste  was  satisfied.  Johnson's 
case  was  very  different.  He  wrote  singly  and  alone.  In  the 
whole  progress  of  the  work  he  did  not  receive  more  than  ten 
essays.  This  was  a  scanty  contribution.  For  the  rest,  the 
author  has  described  his  situation :  '  He  that  condemns  himself 
to  compose  on  a  stated  day,  will  often  bring  to  his  task  an 
attention  dissipated,  a  memory  embarrassed,  an  imagination 
overwhelmed,  a  mind  distracted  with  anxieties,  a  body  languish 
ing  with  disease :  he  will  labour  on  a  barren  topic,  till  it  is  too 
late  to  change  it  ;  or,  in  the  ardour  of  invention,  diffuse  his 

ment,  &C.,  Book   II.   Introduction.  3  Addison  wrote  about  240  Spec- 

Milton's    Works,  ed.    1806,   i.    122.  tators,  of  about  1 1 2  lines  to  a  num- 

Quoted  in  Johnson's  Life  of  Milton,  her.     In  ninety-two  weeks  he  wrote, 

Works,  vii.  78.  roughly   speaking,   26,680   lines,    or 

1  Life,  i.  203,  n.  I.  292   lines   a   week.     Johnson   wrote 

2  Of  these,  four   whole  numbers  203  Ramblers  in  103  weeks,  which,  at 
and   part   of  a  fifth  were  by  other  167  lines  to  a  number,  give  33,901 
hands.     Ib.  i.  203.  lines,  or  329  a  week. 

thoughts 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


393 


thoughts  into  wild  exuberance,  which  the  pressing  hour  of 
publication  cannot  suffer  judgement  to  examine  or  reduce  V 
Of  this  excellent  production  the  number  sold  on  each  day  did 
not  amount  to  five  hundred  :  of  course  the  bookseller,  who  paid 
the  author  four  guineas  a  week,  did  not  carry  on  a  successful 
trade.  His  generosity  and  perseverance  deserve  to  be  com 
mended  ;  and  happily,  when  the  collection  appeared  in  volumes, 
were  amply  rewarded.  Johnson  lived  to  see  his  labours  flourish 
in  a  tenth  edition2.  His  posterity,  as  an  ingenious  French 
writer  has  said  on  a  similar  occasion,  began  in  his  lifetime. 

In  the  beginning  of  1750,  soon  after  the  Rambler  was  set  on 
foot,  Johnson  was  induced  by  the  arts  of  a  vile  impostor  to  lend 
his  assistance,  during  a  temporary  delusion,  to  a  fraud  not  to  be 
paralleled  in  the  annals  of  literature.  One  LADDER,  a  native  of 
Scotland,  who  had  been  a  teacher  in  the  University  of  EDIN 
BURGH,  had  conceived  a  mortal  antipathy  to  the  name  and 
character  of  Milton  3.  His  reason  was,  because  the  prayer  of 


1  Rambler,  No.  208.    In  this  num 
ber  he  says : — '  I  have  never  com 
plied  with  temporary  curiosity,  nor 
enabled  my  readers  to  discuss  the 
topick  of  the  day.'   There  is  a  curious 
instance  of  this  in  his  passing  over 
in  silence  the  great  earthquake  scare 
of  April  8,   1750,   when   'the   open 
fields  that  skirt  the  metropolis  were 
filled  with  an  incredible  number  of 
people  assembled  in  chairs,  in  chaises 
and  coaches,  as  well  as  on  foot,  who 
waited  in  the  most  fearful  suspense 
until  morning.'     Smollett's  History 
of  England ',  iii.  293.     See  also  Wai- 
pole's  Letters,  ii.  201.   Johnson's  next 
number  was  on  '  Retirement  natural 
to  a  great  mind.' 

2  In  the  closing  number  Johnson 
says  : — '  1  have  never  been  much  a 
favourite  with  the  public.'  The  book 
seller  was  Cave.     Life,  i.  203,  n.  6. 
It  is  stated   in    Chalmers's   British 
Essayists,   vol.  xvi.   Preface,  p.  14, 
that  'the  only  number  which  had 


a  prosperous  sale'  was  97 —  con 
tributed  by  Richardson.  A  second 
impression  however  was  required  of 
the  first  numbers,  as  I  have  shown 
in  the  Introduction  to  Select  Essays 
of  Johnson  (Dent  £  Co.,  1889),  p. 
21. 

Each  edition,  according  to  Haw 
kins  (p.  269),  consisted  of  1,250 
copies.  Johnson  soon  parted  with 
the  copyright.  Letters,  i.  29,  n.  i. 

3  Lauder  had  scarcely  left  college 
when  he  was  struck  on  the  knee  by 
a  golf-ball  on  Bruntsfield  Links; 
through  neglect  of  the  wound  he  had 
to  have  the  leg  amputated.  In  spite 
of  considerable  merit  he  failed  to  get 
one  or  two  appointments  which  he 
sought.  This  soured  his  temper,  and 
'  at  length  drove  him  in  an  unlucky 
hour  from  Edinburgh  to  London. 
Here  his  folly  working  on  his  ne 
cessities  induced  him  to  detract  from 
the  fame  of  Milton  by  publishing 
forgeries.  The  public  indignation 
Pamela, 


394  Essay  on 


Pamela,  in  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia,  was,  as  he  supposed, 
maliciously  inserted  by  the  great  poet  in  an  edition  of  the  Eikon 
Basilike,  in  order  to  fix  an  imputation  of  impiety  on  the  memory 
of  the  murdered  king r.  Fired  with  resentment,  and  willing  to 
reap  the  profits  of  a  gross  imposition,  this  man  collected  from 
several  Latin  poets,  such  as  Masenius  the  Jesuit,  Staphorstius 
a  Dutch  divine,  Beza,  and  others,  all  such  passages  as  bore  any 
kind  of  resemblance  to  different  places  in  the  Paradise  Lost ; 
and  these  he  published,  from  time  to  time,  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  with  occasional  interpolations  of  lines,  which  he  him 
self  translated  from  Milton.  The  public  credulity  swallowed 
all  with  eagerness ;  and  Milton  was  supposed  to  be  guilty  of 
plagiarism  from  inferior  modern  writers.  The  fraud  succeeded 
so  well,  that  Lauder  collected  the  whole  into  a  volume,  and 
advertised  it  under  the  title  of  'An  Essay  on  Milton s  Use  and 
Imitation  of  the  Moderns,  in  his  Paradise  Lost ;  dedicated  to  the 
Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge'  While  the  book  was 
in  the  press,  the  proof-sheets  were  shewn  to  Johnson  at  the 
Ivy-lane  Club,  by  Payne,  the  bookseller,  who  was  one  of 
the  members.  No  man  in  that  society  was  in  possession  of  the 
authors  from  whom  Lauder  professed  to  make  his  extracts.  The 

at  length  forced  him  to  look  for  refuge  about  the  Eikon  Basilike,  under  the 

and  subsistence  in  Barbadoes,  where  title   of  The   General  Impostor  de- 

he  died  in  poverty  and  neglect  about  tected,  or  Milton  convicted  of  forgery 

1771.     He  had  a  sallow  complexion,  against  King  Charles  I.   Gent.  Mag. 

large  rolling  fiery  eyes,  a  stentorian  1754,  p.  97.     There  is  no  reason  to 

voice  and  a  sanguine  temper.'    Rud-  believe  that,  as  Murphy  says,  '  he 

diman,   who   had    given   him   some  supposed' that  Milton  was  guilty, 

help    in    his    Poetarum    Scotorum  Johnson  repeated  the  charge  in  his 

Musae  Sacrae,  says  in  a  manuscript  Life  of  Milton.     Works,  vii.  84.    'A 

note, '  I  was  so  sensible  of  the  weak-  century  after  Milton's  death  it  was 

ness   and  folly  of  that  man  that  I  safe  for  the  most  popular  writer  of 

shunned    his    company    as    far    as  the  day  to  say  that  the  prayer  from 

I  decently  could.'  Life  of  Ruddiman,  the  Arcadia  had  been  interpolated 

by  G.  Chalmers,  1794,  p.  146.  in  the  Eikon  by  Milton  himself,  and 

1  It    was    in    1747    that    Lauder  then  by  him  charged  upon  the  King 

began  his  forgeries  ;  in  1750  he  col-  as  a  plagiarism.'    Pattison's  Milton, 

lected  them  into  a  pamphlet.     Life,  p.  103. 

i.  230.     It  was  not  till   1754,  three  For  Pamela's  prayer  see  Milton's 

years  after  his  detection  and  retrac-  Works,  ed.  1806,  ii.  408. 
tation,that  he  published  his  pamphlet 

charge 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  395 

charge  was  believed,  and  the  contriver  of  it  found  his  way  to 
Johnson,  who  is  represented  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  not  indeed  as 
an  accomplice  in  the  fraud,  but,  through  motives  of  malignity  to 
Milton,  delighting  in  the  detection,  and  exulting  that  the  poet's 
reputation  would  suffer  by  the  discovery  x.  More  malice  to  a 
deceased  friend  cannot  well  be  imagined.  Hawkins  adds,  *  that 
he  wished  well  to  the  argument,  must  be  inferred  from  the  preface, 
which  indubitably  was  written  by  him*  The  preface,  it  is  well 
known,  was  written  by  Johnson,  and  for  that  reason  is  inserted 
in  this  edition 2.  But  if  Johnson  approved  of  the  argument,  it 
was  no  longer  than  while  he  believed  it  founded  in  truth.  Let 
us  advert  to  his  own  words  in  that  very  preface.  *  Among  the 
enquiries  to  which  the  [this]  ardour  of  criticism  has  naturally 
given  occasion,  none  is  more  obscure  in  itself,  or  more  worthy  of 
rational  curiosity,  than  a  retrospection  of  the  progress  of  this 
mighty  genius  in  the  construction  of  his  work ;  a  view  of  the 
fabric  gradually  rising,  perhaps  from  small  beginnings,  till  its 
foundation  rests  in  the  centre,  and  its  turrets  sparkle  in  the 
skies  ;  to  trace  back  the  structure,  through  all  its  varieties,  to 
the  simplicity  of  the  [its]  first  plan ;  to  find  what  was  [first] 
projected,  whence  the  scheme  was  taken,  how  it  was  improved, 
by  what  assistance  it  was  executed,  and  from  what  stores  the 
materials  were  collected  ;  whether  its  founder  dug  them  from 
the  quarries  of  nature,  or  demolished  other  buildings  to  embellish 
his  own.'  These  were  the  motives  that  induced  Johnson  to  assist 
Lauder  with  a  preface :  and  are  not  these  the  motives  of  a  critic 
and  a  scholar  ?  What  reader  of  taste,  what  man  of  real  know 
ledge,  would  not  think  his  time  well  employed  in  an  enquiry  so 
curious,  so  interesting,  and  instructive  ?  If  Lauder's  facts  were 
really  true,  who  would  not  be  glad,  without  the  smallest  tincture 
of  malevolence,  to  receive  real  information  ?  It  is  painful  to  be 
thus  obliged  to  vindicate  a  man  who,  in  his  heart,  towered  above 

1  '  I  could  all  along  observe  that  Hawkins,  p.  276.    See  Life,  i.  230. 

Johnson  seemed  to  approve  not  only  The  Whig   members   of    the   Club, 

of  the  design  but  of  the  argument,  some  of  them    sound   scholars,  do 

and  seemed  to  exult  in  a  persuasion  not    seem    to   have    suspected    the 

that  the  reputation   of  Milton  was  fraud, 

likely  to   suffer  by  this  discovery.'  2  Works,  v.  267. 

the 


396  Essay  on 


the  petty  arts  of  fraud  and  imposition,  against  an  injudicious 
biographer,  who  undertook  to  be  his  editor,  and  the  protector  of 
his  memory.  Another  writer,  Dr.  Towers,  in  an  Essay  on  the 
Life  and  Character  of  Dr.  Johnson,  seems  to  countenance  this 
calumny.  He  says,  It  can  hardly  be  doubted,  but  that  Johnsons 
aversion  to  Milton  s  politics  was  the  cause  of  that  alacrity  with 
which  he  joined  with  Lander  in  his  infamous  attack  on  oiir 
great  epic  poet,  and  which  induced  him  to  assist  in  that  trans 
action  *.  These  words  would  seem  to  describe  an  accomplice, 
were  they  not  immediately  followed  by  an  express  declaration, 
that  Johnson  was  unacquainted  with  the  imposture.  Dr.  Towers 
adds.  It  seems  to  have  been  by  way  of  making  some  compensation 
to  the  memory  of  Milton,  for  the  share  he  had  in  the  attack  of 
Laiider,  that  Johnson  wrote  the  prologue,  spoken  by  Garrick,  at 
Drury-lane  Theatre,  in  1750,  on  the  performance  of  the  Masque 
of  Comus,  for  the  benefit  of  Milton  s  grand-daughter 2.  Dr.  Towers 
is  not  free  from  prejudice  ;  but,  as  Shakspeare  has  it,  '  he  begets 
a  temperance,  to  give  it  smoothness  V  He  is,  therefore,  entitled 
to  a  dispassionate  answer.  When  Johnson  wrote  the  prologue, 
it  does  [?  not]  appear  that  he  was  aware  of  the  malignant  artifices 
practised  by  Lauder.  In  the  postscript  to  Johnson's  preface, 
a  subscription  is  proposed,  for  relieving  the  grand-daughter  of 
the  author  of  Paradise  Lost  4.  Dr.  Towers  will  agree  that  this 
shews  Johnson's  alacrity  in  doing  good.  That  alacrity  shewed 

1  P.   57.     This   Essay  was  pub-  4  *  It  is  yet  in  the  power  of  a  great 
lished   in   1786.      See  Life,   iv.   41,  people   to   reward    the  poet   whose 
n.  i.  name   they   boast,   and    from   their 

2  Life,    \.    228;     Works,    i.    115.  alliance  to  whose  genius  they  claim 
Johnson,    in    his    Life    of  Milton,  some  kind  of  superiority  to  everyother 
says: — '  The  profits  of  the  night  were  nation  of  the  earth;  that  poet,  whose 
only  ^130.  .  .  .  This  was  the  greatest  works   may  possibly  be   read   when 
benefaction  that  Paradise  Lost  ever  every  other    monument    of    British 
procured  the  author's  descendants  ;  greatness    shall   be   obliterated ;    to 
and   to   this   he   who   has   now   at-  reward    him,  not   with    pictures    or 
tempted  to   relate   his  life  had  the  with  medals,  which,  if  he  sees,  he 
honour  of  contributing  a  Prologue.'  sees  with  contempt,  but  with  tokens 
Works,  vii.  118.  of  gratitude,  which  he,  perhaps,  may 

3  '  You  must  acquire   and  beget  even  now  consider  as  not  unworthy 
a    temperance     that    may    give    it  the   regard   of  an   immortal'  spirit.' 
smoothness.'     Hamlet,  iii.  2.  8.  Life,  i.  230. 

itself 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  397 

itself  again  in  the  letter  printed  in  the  European  Magazine, 
January,  1785,  and  there  said  to  have  appeared  originally  in 
the  General  Advertiser,  4th  April,  1750,  by  which  the  publick 
were  invited  to  embrace  the  opportunity  of  paying  a  just  regard 
to  the  illustrious  dead,  united  with  the  pleasure  of  doing  good 
to  the  living-1.  The  letter  adds,  *  To  assist  industrious  indigence, 
struggling  with  distress,  and  debilitated  by  age,  is  a  display  of 
virtue,  and  an  acquisition  of  happiness  and  honour.  Whoever, 
therefore  [then],  would  be  thought  capable  of  pleasure  in  read 
ing  the  works  of  our  incomparable  Milton,  and  not  so  destitute 
of  gratitude  as  to  refuse  to  lay  out  a  trifle,  in  a  rational  and 
elegant  entertainment,  for  the  benefit  of  his  living  remains,  for 
the  exercise  of  their  own  virtue,  the  increase  of  their  reputa 
tion,  and  the  [pleasing]  consciousness  of  doing  good,  should 
appear  at  Drury-lane  Theatre,  to-morrow,  April  5,  when 
COMUS  will  be  performed  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Foster,  grand-daughter  to  the  author,  and  the  only  surviving 
branch  of  his  family.  Nota  bene,  there  will  be  a  new  prologue 
on  the  occasion  written  by  the  author  of  Irene,  and  spoken  by 
Mr.  Garrick.'  The  man,  who  had  thus  exerted  himself  to  serve 
the  grand-daughter,  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  entertained 
personal  malice  to  the  grand-father.  It  is  true,  that  the  ma 
levolence  of  Lauder,  as  well  as  the  impostures  of  Archibald 
Bower,  were  fully  detected  by  the  labours,  in  the  cause  of  truth, 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Lord  Bishop  of  Salisbury2. 

'Diram  qui  contudit  Hydram, 
Notaque  fatali  portenta  labore  subegitV 

But  the  pamphlet,  entituled,  Milton  vindicated  from  the  Charge 
of  Plagiarism  brotight  against  him  by  Mr.  Lauder,  and  Lauder 
himself  convicted  of  several  Forgeries  and  gross  Impositions  on 
the  Publick.  By  John  Douglas,  M.A.  Rector  of  Eaton  Con- 
stantine,  Salop,  was  not  published  till  the  year  1751.  In  that 
work,  p.  77,  Dr.  Douglas  says:  '  It  is  to  be  hoped,  nay,  it  is 
expected,  that  the  elegant  and  nervous  writer,  whose  judicious 

1  Life,  i.  227.  2  Ib.  i.  228.  And  monsters  dire  with  fated  toil 

3  'Who  crush'd  the  Hydra  when  subdu'd.' 

to  life  renew'd,  Francis,  Hor.,  Ep.  ii.  i.  10. 

sentiments 


398  Essay  on 


sentiments  and  inimitable  style  point  out  the  author  of  Lauder's 
preface  and  postscript,  will  no  longer  allow  A  MAN  [one]  to  plume 
himself  with  his  feather s^  who  appears  so  little  to  have  deserved 
his  assistance ;  an  assistance  which  I  am  persuaded  would  never 
have  been  communicated,  had  there  been  the  least  suspicion  of 
those  facts,  which  I  have  been  the  instrument  of  conveying  to  the 
world.'  We  have  here  a  contemporary  testimony  to  the  integrity 
of  Dr.  Johnson  throughout  the  whole  of  that  vile  transaction *. 
What  was  the  consequence  of  the  requisition  made  by  Dr. 
Douglas?  Johnson,  whose  ruling  passion  may  be  said  to  be  the 
love  of  truth,  convinced  Lauder.  that  it  would  be  more  for  his 
interest  to  make  a  full  confession  of  his  guilt,  than  to  stand 
forth  the  convicted  champion  of  a  lye ;  and  for  this  purpose 
he  drew  up,  in  the  strongest  terms,  a  recantation  in  a  Letter 
to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Douglas,  which  Lauder  signed,  and  published 
in  the  year  1751  2.  That  piece  will  remain  a  lasting  memorial  of 
the  abhorrence  with  which  Johnson  beheld  a  violation  of  truth. 
Mr.  Nichols,  whose  attachment  to  his  illustrious  friend  was  un 
wearied,  shewed  him  in  1780  a  book,  called  Remarks  on  Johnsoris 
Life  of  Milton,  in  which  the  affair  of  Lauder  was  renewed  with 
virulence3,  and  a  poetical  scale  in  the  Literary  Magazine  1758 
(when  Johnson  had  ceased  to  write  in  that  collection)  was  urged 
as  an  additional  proof  of  deliberate  malice.  He  read  the  libellous 
passage  with  attention,  and  instantly  wrote  on  the  margin :  ' "  In 
the  business  of  Lauder  I  was  deceived,  partly  by  thinking  the 
man  too  frantic  to  be  fraudulent."  Of  \h&  poetical  scale  quoted 
from  the  Magazine  I  am  not  the  author.  I  fancy  it  was  put  in 
after  I  had  quitted  that  work ;  for  I  not  only  did  not  write  it, 
but  I  do  not  remember  it  V  As  a  critic  and  a  scholar,  Johnson 

1  Life,  i.  229,  n.  I.                 2  Ib.  4  In  this  Poetical  Scale  little  in- 

3  Post,  p.  486.  justice  is   done    to    Milton: — 'The 

Remarks   on    Johnson's    Life    of  point  of  perfection  is  supposed  to  be 

Milton,  1780,  formed  a  part  of  The  twenty    degrees.       Shakespeare    is 

M emoirs  of  Thomas  Hollis,  published  estimated  to  be  in  genius  19,  judg- 

anonymously,  but  written  by  Arch-  ment   14,   learning   14,  versification 

deacon   Blackburne.     Nichols,  Lit.  19.     Milton,  in  genius  1 8,  judgment 

Anec.  viii.  57.    The  passage  referred  16,  learning  17,  versification  18.'    But 

to   is  on  vol.   ii.    p.  537,    of   those  in  the '  remarks '  it  is  said ...'  Shake- 

Memoirs.  speare's  faults  were  those  of  a  great 

was 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


399 


was  willing  to  receive  what  numbers  at  the  time  believed  to  be 
true  information :  when  he  found  that  the  whole  was  a  forgery, 
he  renounced  all  connection  with  the  author  *. 

In  March  1752,  he  felt  a  severe  stroke  of  affliction  in  the  death 
of  his  wife.  The  last  number  of  the  Rambler,  as  already  men 
tioned,  was  on  the  I4th  of  that  month.  The  loss  of  Mrs.  Johnson 
was  then  approaching,  and,  probably,  was  the  cause  that  put  an 
end  to  those  admirable  periodical  essays.  It  appears  that  she 
died  on  the  28th  of  March :  in  a  memorandum,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Prayers  and  Meditations,  that  is  called  her  Dying  Day2. 
She  was  buried  at  Bromley,  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Hawkesworth 3. 
Johnson  placed  a  Latin  inscription  on  her  tomb,  in  which  he 
celebrated  her  beauty 4.  With  the  singularity  of  his  prayers  for 


poet;  those  of  Milton  of  a  little 
pedant.'  Prior's  Goldsmith,  i.  233. 
The  Literary  Magazine  for  1758  is 
not  in  the  British  Museum.  John 
son  did  not  write  for  it  after  1757. 
Life,  i.  307. 

1  Person  says  that  it  was  his 
*  opinion  that  the  writer  of  the  preface, 
postscript  and  letter  of  contrition  for 
W.  Lauder  was  neither  willingly  un- 
deluded,  nor  forward  in  exposing  the 
atrocity  of  those  hideous  interpola 
tions  by  which  it  had  been  vainly 
contrived  to  obscure  the  splendor  of 
Milton's  PARADISE  LOST.'  Person's 
Tracts,  p.  379. 

Mark  Pattison  went  far  beyond 
Person.  '  Dr.  Johnson,'  he  writes, 
'conspired  with  one  William  Lauder 
to  stamp  out  Milton's  credit  by  prov 
ing  him  to  be  a  wholesale  plagiarist.' 
He  calls  them  'this  pair  of  literary 
bandits.'  On  the  next  page  he 
writes  :  —  '  Johnson,  who  was  not 
concerned  in  the  cheat,  and  was  only 
guilty  of  indolence  and  party  spirit, 
saved  himself  by  sacrificing  his  com 
rade.  He  afterwards  took  ample 
revenge  for  the  mortification  of  this 
exposure,  in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  in 


which  he  employed  all  his  vigorous 
powers  and  consummate  skill  to 
write  down  Milton.'  Milton,  by 
Mark  Pattison,  pp.  217-219.  Both 
Person  and  Pattison  must  have 
known  that  Johnson  in  the  postscript 
to  Lander's  pamphlet  spoke  of  Mil 
ton  as  'that  poet  whose  works  may 
possibly  be  read  when  every  other 
monument  of  British  greatness  shall 
be  obliterated,'  and  that  he  ends  his 
Life  of  him  by  saying  that  'his  great 
works  were  performed  under  dis 
countenance  and  in  blindness :  but 
difficulties  vanished  at  his  touch  ; 
he  was  born  for  whatever  is  arduous; 
and  his  work  is  not  the  greatest  of 
heroick  poems  only  because  it  is 
not  the  first.'  Works,  v.  271  ;  vii. 
142. 

2  She  died  three  days  after  the 
publication  of  the  last  Rambler,  on 
March  17  O.  S.,  28  N.  S.     I  do  not 
know  to  what  memorandum  Murphy 
refers. 

3  Hawkesworth  lived  at  Bromley. 
Life,  i.  241. 

4  It   was  not  till  a  few  months 
before  his  death  that  he  placed  this 
inscription.     '  Shall  I  ever  be  able 

his 


400  Essay  on 


his  deceased  wife,  from  that  time  to  the  end  of  his  days,  the 
world  is  sufficiently  acquainted.  On  Easter-day.  22d  April, 
1764,  his  memorandum  says:  'Thought  on  Tetty,  poor  dear 
Tetty T !  with  my  eyes  full.  Went  to  Church.  After  sermon 
I  recommended  Tetty  in  a  prayer  by  herself;  and  my  father, 
mother,  brother,  and  Bathurst,  in  another.  I  did  it  only  once, 
so  far  as  it  might  be  lawful  for  me.'  In  a  prayer,  January  23, 
1759,  the  day  on  which  his  mother  was  buried,  he  commends,  as 
far  as  may  be  lawful,  her  soul  to  God,  imploring  for  her  whatever 
is  most  beneficial  to  her  in  her  present  state 2.  In  this  habit  he 
persevered  to  the  end  of  his  days.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Strahan,  the 
editor  of  the  Prayers  and  Meditations,  observes,  '  That  Johnson, 
on  some  occasions,  prays  that  the  Almighty  may  have  had  mercy 
on  his  wife  and  Mr.  Thrale  :  evidently  supposing  their  sentence 
to  have  been  already  passed  in  the  Divine  Mind  ;  and,  by  conse 
quence,  proving,  that  he  had  no  belief  in  a  state  of  purgatory, 
and  no  reason  for  praying  for  the  dead  that  could  impeach  the 
sincerity  of  his  profession  as  a  Protestant.'  Mr.  Strahan  adds, 
'  That,  in  praying  for  the  regretted  tenants  of  the  grave,  Johnson 
conformed  to  a  practice  which  has  been  retained  by  many  learned 
members  of  the  Established  Church,  though  the  Liturgy  no 
longer  admits  it.  If  where  the  tree  falleth,  there  it  shall  be'* ;  if 
our  state,  at  the  close  of  life,  is  to  be  the  measure  of  our  final 
sentence,  then  prayers  for  the  dead,  being  visibly  fruitless,  can 
be  regarded  only  as  the  vain  oblations  of  superstition.  But  of 
all  superstitions  this,  perhaps,  is  one  of  the  least  unamiable,  and 
most  incident  to  a  good  mind.  If  our  sensations  of  kindness  be 
intense,  those,  whom  we  have  revered  and  loved,  death  cannot 
wholly  seclude  from  our  concern.  It  is  true,  for  the  reason  just 
mentioned,  such  evidences  of  our  surviving  affection  may  be 
thought  ill-judged  ;  but  surely  they  are  generous,  and  some 
natural  tenderness  is  due  even  to  a  superstition,  which  thus 

to  bear  the  sight  of  this  stone  ? '  he  her  death.     Letters,  ii.  429. 

wrote    to    his   friend    Ryland.     'In  x  Ante,  p.  n,  n.  i. 

your  company  I  hope  I  shall.'     Let-  2  Ante,  pp.  23,  29  ;  Life,  i.  240. 

ters,  ii.   429.     See  also  ib.  ii.   411;  3  Ecclesiastes  xi.  3  ;  for  Johnson's 

Life,  i.  241,  n. ;    iv.  351,  394.      He  explanation  of  the  text,  see  Life,  iv. 

gave  the  wrong  date  of  the  year  of  225. 

originates 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  401 

originates  in  piety  and  benevolence  V  These  sentences,  extracted 
from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Strahan's  preface,  if  they  are  not  a  full  justifi 
cation,  are,  at  least,  a  beautiful  apology.  It  will  not  be  improper 
to  add  what  Johnson  himself  has  said  on  the  subject.  Being 
asked  by  Mr.  BoswelL  what  he  thought  of  purgatory,  as  believed 
by  the  Roman  Catholics?  His  answer  was,  '  It  is  a  very  harm 
less  doctrine.  They  are  of  opinion,  that  the  generality  of  man 
kind  are  neither  so  obstinately  wicked  as  to  deserve  everlasting 
punishment ;  nor  so  good  as  to  merit  being  admitted  into  the 
society  of  blessed  spirits  ;  and,  therefore,  that  God  is  graciously 
pleased  to  allow  a  middle  state,  where  they  may  be  purified  by 
certain  degrees  of  suffering.  You  see  [Sir]  there  is  nothing  un 
reasonable  in  this '  ;  [BOSWELL.  *  But  then,  Sir,  their  masses  for 
the  dead  ? '  JOHNSON.  '  Why,  Sir]  if  it  be  once  established 
that  there  are  souls  in  purgatory,  it  is  as  proper  to  pray  for 
them,  as  for  our  brethren  of  mankind,  who  are  yet  in  this  life  V 
This  was  Dr.  Johnson's  guess  into  futurity ;  and  to  guess  is  the 
utmost  that  man  can  do.  Shadozvs,  clouds,  and  darkness,  rest 
iipon  it*. 

Mrs.  Johnson  left  a  daughter,  Lucy  Porter,  by  her  first 
husband.  She  had  contracted  a  friendship  with  Mrs.  Anne 
Williams,  the  daughter  of  Zachary  Williams,  a  physician  of 
eminence  in  South  Wales,  who  had  devoted  more  than  thirty 
years  of  a  long  life  to  the  study  of  the  longitude,  and  was 
thought  to  have  made  great  advances  towards  that  important 
discovery.  His  letters  to  Lord  Halifax,  and  the  Lords  of  the 
Admiralty,  partly  corrected  and  partly  written  by  Dr.  Johnson, 
are  still  extant  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Nichols4.  We  there  find 
Dr.  Williams,  in  the  eighty-third  year  of  his  age,  stating,  that  he 

1  Prayers  and  Meditations,    Pre-  an   immense  view  of  what  is   and 

face,  pp.  10-13.     Murphy's  extracts  what  is  past.     Clouds,  indeed,  and 

are  not  accurately  made.  darkness    rest    upon    the   future: 

3  Life,  ii.  104.  Burke's     Speech     on     Conciliation. 

3  Addison,  Cato,  Act  v.  sc.  I.  Payne's  Burke,  i.  172. 

'Mr.   Speaker,   I    cannot    prevail  4  Published    in    the    Gentleman's 

upon  myself  to  hurry  over  this  great  Magazine,  1787,  pp.  757,  1041.  Life, 

consideration.    //  is  good  for  us  to  i.  274,  11.  2,  301. 
be  here.    We  stand  where  we  have 

VOL.  I.                                             D  d 


402 


Essay  on 


had  prepared  an  instrument,  which  might  be  called  an  epitome 
or  miniature  of  the  terraqueous  globe,  shewing,  with  the  assist 
ance  of  tables  constructed  by  himself,  the  variations  of  the 
magnetic  needle,  and  ascertaining  the  longitude  for  the  safety  of 
navigation  z.  It  appears  that  this  scheme  had  been  referred  to 
Sir  Isaac  Newton 2 ;  but  that  great  philosopher  excusing  himself 
on  account  of  his  advanced  age,  all  applications  were  useless  till 
1751,  when  the  subject  was  referred,  by  order  of  Lord  Anson3, 
to  Dr.  Bradley,  the  celebrated  professor  of  Astronomy  4.  His 
report  was  unfavourable,  though  it  allows  that  a  considerable 
progress  had  been  made.  Dr.  Williams,  after  all  his  labour  and 
expence,  died  in  a  short  time  after,  a  melancholy  instance  of  un 
rewarded  merit 5.  His  daughter  possessed  uncommon  talents, 


1  '  It  was  no  new  thing  then  when 
Columbus,  as  he  sailed  westward, 
marked  the  variation  [of  the  needle] 
proceeding  from  the  north-east  more 
and  more  westerly;  but  it  was  a 
revelation  when  he  came  to  a  posi 
tion  where  the  magnetic  north  and 
the  north  star  stood  in  conjunction, 
as  they  did  on  this  I3th  of  Sep 
tember,  1492.  As  he  still  moved 
westerly  the  magnetic  line  was  found 
to  move  farther  and  farther  away 
from  the  pole,  as  it  had  before  the 
1 3th  approached  it.  To  an  observer 
of  Columbus' s  quick  perceptions, 
there  was  a  ready  guess  to  possess 
his  mind.  This  inference  was  that 
this  line  of  no  variation  was  a  meri 
dian  line,  and  that  divergences  from 
it  east  and  west  might  have  a  regu 
larity  which  would  be  found  to  fur 
nish  a  method  of  ascertaining  longi 
tude  far  easier  and  surer  than  tables 
or  water-clocks.'  Justin  Winsor's 
Christopher  Columbus,  1891,  p.  200. 

'  According  to  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  p.  1042,  in  1729;  but 
Newton  died  in  1727. 

3  First  Commissioner  of  the  Ad 
miralty ;  ante,  p.  195. 

4  James  Bradley,  Savilian  Profes 


sor  of  Astronomy  at  Oxford,  and 
third  Astronomer  Royal. 

5  His  merit  was  not  great,  as 
Bradley  reported  that  in  some  cases 
the  difference  between  his  tables 
and  the  best  observations  amounted 
to  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  degrees ! 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  1787,  p. 
1042. 

Johnson,  no  doubt,  had  him  in 
mind  in  the  Rambler,  No.  67,  when 
in  the  Garden  of  Hope  he  placed 
one  '  who  was  on  the  point  of  dis 
covering  the  longitude.'  Addison, 
nearly  forty  years  earlier,  in  a  letter 
from  a  member  of  the  Tall  Club, 
said  : — '  I  must  add,  to  the  honour 
of  our  Club,  that  it  is  one  of  our 
society  who  is  now  finding  out  the 
longitude.'  The  Guardian,  No.  108. 

Williams  had  first  taken  orders, 
and  later  on  'was  a  surgeon,  phy 
sician,  and  projector.'  Some  of  his 
projects  are  given  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1787,  p.  1157.  He  was 
admitted  to  the  Charter-House,  but 
he  was  expelled  in  1749,  at  the  age 
of  seventy-eight,  in  consequence  of 
attacks  on  the  management  of  that 
Institution.  In  a  letter  to  General 
Oglethorpe  he  describes  how  'this 

and, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  403 

and,  though  blind,  had  an  alacrity  of  mind  that  made  her  con 
versation  agreeable,  and  even  desirable.  To  relieve  and  appease 
melancholy  reflections,  Johnson  took  her  home  to  his  house  in 
Gough-square x.  In  1755,  Garrick  gave  her  a  benefit-play,  which 
produced  two  hundred  pounds2.  In  1766,  she  published,  by 
subscription,  a  quarto  volume  of  Miscellanies,  and  increased 
her  little  stock  to  three  hundred  pounds 3.  That  fund,  with 
Johnson's  protection,  supported  her  through  the  remainder  of 
her  life4. 

During  the  two  years  in  which  the  Rambler  was  carried  on, 
the  Dictionary  proceeded  by  slow  degrees.  In  May  1752, 
having  composed  a  prayer  preparatory  to  his  return  from  tears 
and  sorrow  to  the  duties  of  life 5,  he  resumed  his  grand  design, 
and  went  on  with  vigour,  giving,  however,  occasional  assistance 
to  his  friend  Dr.  Hawkesworth  in  the  Adventurer,  which  began 
soon  after  the  Rambler  was  laid  aside.  Some  of  the  most 
valuable  essays  in  that  collection  were  from  the  pen  of  Johnson  6. 
The  Dictionary  was  completed  towards  the  end  of  17545  anc^» 
Cave  being  then  no  more 7,  it  was  a  mortification  to  the  author 


great  and  goodly  hospital  is  become  and  follies  of  men.'  Warton's  Pope's 

a  den  of  thieves  !  the  master  a  tyran-  Works,  ix.  345. 

nical  oppressor;  the  servants  fraud-  According  to  Percy, '  Hawkesworth 

ulent  managers,  and  the  poor  gentle-  usually  sent  Johnson  each  paper  to 

men-pensioners  great  sufferers  from  prefix  a  motto  before  it  was  printed.' 

their    first    entrance   even   to   their  Anderson's  fohnson,  ed.  1815,  p.  190. 

graves.'     Gent.  Mag.,  1787,  p.  1 158.  Chalmers  (British  Essayists,  vol.  xix. 

1  Murphy  misrepresents  the  mo-  Preface,  p.  38)  states  that  '  Johnson 
live  of  Johnson's  kindness.     Life,  i.  revised    his    Adventurers    for    the 
232.  second   edition  with  the  same   at- 

2  Life,  i.  393,  «.  I ;  Letters,  i.  53-6.  tention  he  bestowed  on  the  Rambler? 

3  Life,   ii.    26 ;    Letters,   ii.    334,  This  is  untrue ;    scarcely  a  change 
n.  3.  can  be  found. 

4  For  many  years  she  had  a  small  7  Cave  died  on  January  10,  1754. 
pension  from  Mrs.  Montagu.  Letters,  Letters,  i.   56,  n.  2.     According  to 
ii.  336.  the  Life  of  Johnson,  published  by 

5  Ante,  p.  12.  Kearsley  in  1785,  p.  47,  Cave  was 

6  Life,  i.  252.     Dr.  Warton   says  the    husband  of  the  woman  '  who 
that  'the  title   The  Adventurer,   it  fraudulently  made  a  purse  for  her- 
seems,  alluded  to  its  being  a  kind  of  self '  (Life,  iv.  319).    The  money  she 
Knight  Errantry  to  attack  the  vices  had  laid  out  in  India  bonds. 

D  d  2,                                                          Of 


404  Essay  on 


of  that  noble  addition  to  our  language,  that  his  old  friend  did 
not  live  to  see  the  triumph  of  his  labours.  In  May  1755,  that 
great  work  was  published  T.  Johnson  was  desirous  that  it  should 
come  from  one  who  had  obtained  academical  honours  ;  and  for 
that  purpose,  his  friend  the  Rev.  Thomas  Warton  obtained  for 
him,  in  the  preceding  month  of  February,  a  diploma  for  a  master's 
degree  from  the  University  of  Oxford 2.  Garrick,  on  the  publi 
cation  of  the  Dictionary,  wrote  the  following  lines. 

'  Talk  of  war  with  a  Briton,  he  '11  boldly  advance, 
That  one  English  soldier  can  [will]  beat  ten  of  France. 
Would  we  alter  the  boast  from  the  sword  to  the  pen, 
Our  odds  are  still  greater,  still  greater  our  men. 
In  the  deep  mines  of  science  though  Frenchmen  may  toil, 
Can  their  strength  be  compar'd  to  Locke,  Newton,  or  [and]  Boyle  ? 
Let  them  rally  their  heroes,  send  forth  all  their  pow'rs, 
Their  versemen  and  prosemen,  then  match  them  with  ours. 
First   Shakspeare   and   Milton  [Milton  and  Shakspeare],  like  Gods 

in  the  fight, 

Have  put  their  whole  drama  and  epic  to  flight. 
In  satires,  epistles,  and  odes,  would  they  cope  ? 
Their  numbers  retreat  before  Dry  den  and  Pope. 
And  Johnson  well  arm'd,  like  a  hero  of  yore, 
Has  beat  Forty  French,  and  will  beat  Forty  more  *. 

It  is,  perhaps,  needless  to  mention,  that  Forty  was  the  number 
of  the  French  Academy,  at  the  time  when  their  Dictionary  was 
published  to  settle  their  language  4. 

1  Life,  i.  290,  n.  i.  I  have  seen  a  ment  to  the  London  Evening  Post. 
letter  from  Mr.  John  P.  Anderson  of  Some  authorities  give  the  date  of  the 
the  British  Museum,  the  author  of  second  edition  as  1755,  others  1756, 
the  Bibliography  at  the  end  of  but  they  are  all  wrong.  The  ad- 
Colonel  F.  Grant's  Johnson,  to  Mr.  vertisement  of  the  first  edition  gives 
J.  Dewitt  Miller,  of  Philadelphia,  a  the  date— "  This  day  is  published  "— 
great  Johnsonian  collector,  in  which  April  17,  not  as  usually  accepted, 
it  is  stated: — 'The  first  edition  ap-  April  15.' 
peared  on  April  17,  1755.  What  My  edition  of  the  Dictionary,  called 
I  called  a  second  edition  was  a  the  second,  is  dated  1755  in  the  first 
weekly  re-issue,  same  type,  &c.,  volume,  and  1756  in  the  second, 
which  began  on  June  17  of  the  same  The  sheets  are  numbered  from  i  to 
year.  The  second  edition  appeared  clxv. 
in  1760,  in  2  vols.  octavo.  I  have  2  Life,  i.  275,  283. 
discovered  this  from  the  advertise-  3  Ib.  i.  300.  4  Ib.  i.  186. 

In 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  405 

In  the  course  of  the  winter  preceding  this  grand  publication, 
the  late  Earl  of  Chesterfield  gave  two  essays  in  the  periodical 
Paper,  called  THE  WORLD,  dated  November  28,  and  December  5, 
1754,  to  prepare  the  publick  for  so  important  a  work.  The 
original  plan,  addressed  to  his  Lordship  in  the  year  1747,  is 
there  mentioned  in  terms  of  the  highest  praise x ;  and  this  was 
understood,  at  the  time,  to  be  a  courtly  way  of  soliciting  a  dedi 
cation  of  the  Dictionary  to  himself.  Johnson  treated  this  civility 
with  disdain.  He  said  to  Garrick  and  others,  '  I  have  sailed 
a  long  and  painful  voyage  round  the  world  of  the  English 
language ;  and  does  he  now  send  out  two  cock-boats  to  tow  me 
into  harbour 2  ? '  He  had  said,  in  the  last  number  of  the  Rambler, 
'  that,  having  laboured  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  virtue,  I  will 
not  now  degrade  it  by  the  meanness  of  dedication3.'  Such  a 
man,  when  he  had  finished  his  '  Dictionary,  not/  as  he  says  him 
self,  *  in  the  soft  obscurities  of  retirement,  or  under  the  shelter  of 
academic  bowers,  but  amidst  inconvenience  and  distraction,  in 
sickness  and  in  sorrow,  and  without  the  patronage  of  the  great  Y 
was  not  likely  to  be  caught  by  the  lure  thrown  out  by  Lord 
Chesterfield.  He  had  in  vain  sought  the  patronage  of  that 

1  '  Perfection  is  not  to  be  expected       prevented  him  from  ever  dedicating 
from  man ;   but  if  we  are  to  judge       in  his  own  person.'     Ib.  ii.  I. 

by  the  various  works  of  Mr.  John-  Dr.     Franklin    wrote     in    June, 

son  already  published,  we  have  good  1782  :— '  I  never  made  a  dedication 

reason  to  believe  that  he  will  bring  and  I  never  desired  that  one  should 

this  as  near  to  perfection  as  any  man  be  made  to  me.'     Franklin's  Works, 

could  do.'    Life,  i.  258.  ed.  1888,  vii.  475.    Gibbon,  in  the 

2  Murphy  perhaps  gets  this  story  Preface  to  vol.  vii.  of  the  Decline 
from  the  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  and  Fall,  artfully  dedicates  without 
Writings  of  Dr.  Johnson,  ed.  1785,  a  dedication.    « Were  I  ambitious  of 
p.  120,  where  it  is  also  stated  that  to  any  other  Patron  than  the  Public, 
Edward   Moore,  the  editor   of  The  I   would    inscribe    this  work    to  a 
World,  and  « the  creature  of  Lord  Statesman,'  &c. 

Chesterfield,' who  had  come  from  his  4   *  The  English  Dictionary  was 

Lordship,  Johnson  replied:— 'I  am  written  with  little  assistance  of  the 

under  obligations  to  no  great  man,  learned,  and  without  any  patronage 

and  of  all  others  Chesterfield  ought  of  the  great ;    not  in  the  soft  ob- 

to  know  me  better  than  to  think  me  scurities,'  &c.   Works,v.  51.  Murphy 

capable  of  contracting  myself  into  mars    that    passage    which    Home 

a  dwarf  that  he  may  be  thought  a  Tooke  said  he  « could  never   read 

giant.'    See  also  Life,  i.  259.  without  shedding  a  tear.'    Life,  i. 

3  '  The  loftiness  of  Johnson's  mind  297,  n.  2. 

nobleman ; 


406 


Essay  on 


nobleman  ;  and  his  pride,  exasperated  by  disappointment,  drew 
from  him  the  following  letter,  dated  in  the  month  of  February, 
1755  '• 

It  is  said,  upon  good  authority,  that  Johnson  once  received  from 
Lord  Chesterfield  the  sum  of  ten  pounds.  It  were  to  be  wished 
that  the  secret  had  never  transpired.  It  was  mean  to  receive  it2, 
and  meaner  to  give  it.  It  may  be  imagined,  that  for  Johnson's 
ferocity,  as  it  has  been  called,  there  was  some  foundation  in  his 
finances;  and,  as  his  Dictionary  was  brought  to  a  conclusion, 
that  money  was  now  to  flow  in  upon  him.  The  reverse  was  the 
case.  For  his  subsistence,  during  the  progress  of  the  work,  he 
had  received  at  different  times  the  amount  of  his  contract ;  and 
when  his  receipts  were  produced  to  him  at  a  tavern-dinner, 
given  by  the  booksellers,  it  appeared,  that  he  had  been  paid 
a  hundred  pounds  and  upwards  more  than  his  due3.  The 


1  For  this  letter,  which  I  omit,  see 
Life,  1.261. 

Mr.  Hussey  says  : — '  Enquiring  of 
Dr.  Johnson  if  it  were  true  that 
Lord  Chesterfield  had  been  much 
offended  at  the  receipt  of  his  letter, 
the  Doctor  replied,  "  so  far  from 
it  his  Lordship  expressed  himself 
obliged  to  me  for  it,  and  did  me  the 
honour  to  say  it  was  the  letter  of 
a  Scholar  and  a  Gentleman." '  '  Dr. 
Johnson  once  spoke  to  me  very 
warmly  in  recommendation  of  Lord 
Chesterfield,  and  said  that  he  was 
the  politest  man  he  ever  knew ;  but 
added  "  Indeed  he  did  not  think  it 
worth  his  while  to  treat  me  like  a 
Gentleman." ' 

*  On  telling  him  Voltaire's  opinion, 
that  "  if  ever  Lord  Chesterfield  pub 
lished  anything  he  would  expose  his 
ignorance,"  Johnson  replied,  "  His 
Letters  betray  no  want  of  abilities, 
but  the  bad  use  he  has  made  of 
them." '  Marginal  notes  in  Mr. 
H.  P.  Symonds's  copy  of  the  Life. 

Voltaire   said    of   the   Letters : — 


4  Je  ne  sais  si  ce  n'est  pas  le  meilleur 
livre  d'education  qu'on  ait  jamais 
fait.'  (Euvres  de  Voltaire,  ed.  1821, 
Ivi.  399. 

Davies,  in  his  Life  of  Garrick,  i. 
92,  shows  how  at  Dublin  Chester 
field  did  not  think  it  worth  his  while 
to  treat  Garrick  like  a  gentleman. 

2  Life,  i.  261,  n.  3. 

Murphy,  if  we  can  trust  Rogers's 
account  of  him,  was  not  entitled  to 
pass  so  harsh  a  judgment.  Towards 
the  close  of  his  life,  till  he  received 
a  pension  of  ^200  from  the  King,  he 
was  in  great  pecuniary  difficulties. 
He  had  eaten  himself  out  of  every 
tavern  from  the  other  side  of  Temple- 
Bar  to  the  west  end  of  the  town.' 
He  owed  Rogers  a  large  sum  of 
money,  which  he  never  repaid.  '  He 
assigned  over  to  me  the  whole  of  his 
works  ;  and  I  soon  found  that  he  had 
already  disposed  of  them  to  a  book 
seller.'  Rogers's  Table-Talk,  p.  106. 

3  Hawkins,   p.  345  ;   Life,  i.  304 ; 
ante,  p.  388. 

In  1781  one-eightieth  share  of  the 
author 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


407 


author  of  a  book,  called  Lexiphanes,  written  by  a  Mr.  Campbell, 
a  Scotchman,  and  purser  of  a  man  of  war,  endeavoured 
to  blast  his  laurels,  but  in  vain1.  The  world  applauded, 
and  Johnson  never  replied.  '  Abuse,'  he  said,  '  is  often  of 
service :  there  is  nothing  so  dangerous  to  an  author  as  silence ; 
his  name,  like  a  shuttlecock,  must  be  beat  backward  and  forward, 
or  it  falls  to  the  ground2.'  Lexiphanes  professed  to  be  an 
imitation  of  the  pleasant  manner  of  Lucian ;  but  humour  was 
not  the  talent  of  the  writer  of  Lexiphanes 3.  As  Dryden  says, 
*  He  has  too  much  horse-play  in  his  raillery  V 


It  was  in  the  summer  1754,  that  the  present  writer  became 
acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson.     The   cause  of  his   first  visit  is 


folio  edition  sold  for  ^n.  Mr.  H. 
P.  Symonds's  MSS. 

Boswell  recorded  in  his  note-book 
on  Sept.  22,  1777 : — '  Dr.  Johnson  told 
me  in  the  forenoon  that  he  had  six 
amanuenses  when  he  composed  his 
Dictionary,  that  eighty  paper  books 
of  two  quires  each,  160  quires,  were 
first  used,  and  as  they  were  written 
on  both  sides,  it  afterwards  cost  him 
twenty  pounds  for  paper  to  have 
them  transcribed,  to  be  written  only 
on  one  page.  (This  must  be  a  mis 
take  were  it  only  is.  a  quire)  ...  He 
said  it  was  remarkable  that,  when 
he  revised  and  improved  the  last 
edition  of  his  Dictry,  the  printer  was 
never  kept  waiting.'  Morrison  Auto 
graphs,  2nd  Series,  i.  367. 

See  Life,  i.  189.  It  is  strange  that 
Johnson,  who  was  now  an  author  of 
some  years  standing,  should  have 
had  the  paper  written  on  both  sides. 

1  This  mention  of  Lexiphanes  is 
premature  as  it  was  not  published 
till  1767.  Life,  ii.  44. 

'  As  well  as  for  the  malignancy  of 
his  heart  as  his  terrific  countenance 
he  was  called  horrible  Campbell.' 
Hawkins,  p.  347.  Another  Scotch 
man,  Dr.  Robertson  the  historian, 


'told  Johnson  that  he  had  fairly 
perused  his  Dictionary  twice  over.' 
Ib.  p.  346.  Macaulay  says  that  'it 
was  hailed  with  an  enthusiasm  such 
as  no  similar  work  has  ever  excited. 
It  was  indeed  the  first  dictionary 
which  could  be  read  with  pleasure. 
The  definitions  show  so  much  acute- 
ness  of  thought  and  command  of 
language,  and  the  passages  quoted 
from  poets,  divines,  and  philosophers 
are  so  skilfully  selected,  that  a  leisure 
hour  may  always  be  very  agreeably 
spent  in  turning  over  the  pages.' 
Macaulay's  Misc.  Works,  ed.  1871, 
p.  382. 

2  'Dr.  Johnson  said,   "It  is  ad 
vantageous  to  an  authour,  that  his 
book  should  be  attacked  as  well  as 
praised.    Fame  is  a  shuttlecock.     If 
it  be  struck  only  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  it  will  soon  fall  to  the  ground. 
To  keep  it  up,  it  must  be  struck  at 
both  ends.'"     Life,  v.  400. 

3  The    book    is    as  dull  as   it  is 
indecent. 

4  *  He  is  too  much  given  to  horse 
play  in  his   raillery,   and   comes   to 
battle  like  a  dictator  from  the  plough.' 
Preface    to    the    Fables,    Dry  den's 
Poems,  Aldine  ed.  iii.  198. 

related 


408  Essay  on 


related  by  Mrs.  Piozzi  nearly  in  the  following  manner1. 
'  Mr.  Murphy  being  engaged  in  a  periodical  paper,  the  Gray'sr 
Inn  Journal,  was  at  a  friend's  house  in  the  country,  and,  not 
being  disposed  to  lose  pleasure  for  business,  wished  to  content 
his  bookseller  by  some  unstudied  essay.  He  therefore  took  up 
a  French  Journal  Litiraire,  and  translating  something  he  liked, 
sent  it  away  to  town.  Time,  however,  discovered  that  he 
translated  from  the  French  a  Rambler,  which  had  been  taken 
from  the  English  without  acknowledgement.  Upon  this  discovery 
Mr.  Murphy  thought  it  right  to  make  his  excuses  to  Dr.  Johnson. 
He  went  next  day,  and  found  him  covered  with  soot,  like 
a  chimney-sweeper,  in  a  little  room,  as  if  he  had  been  acting 
Lungs  in  the  Alchymist,  making  czther.  This  being  told  by 
Mr.  Murphy  in  company,  "Come,  come,"  [dear  Mur.]  said 
Dr.  Johnson,  <:  the  story  is  black  enough  ;  but  it  was  a  happy 
day  that  brought  you  first  to  my  house." '  After  this  first  visit, 
the  author  of  this  narrative  by  degrees  grew  intimate  with 
Dr.  Johnson.  The  first  striking  sentence,  that  he  heard  from 
him,  was  in  a  few  days  after  the  publication  of  Lord  Bolingbroke's 
posthumous  works.  Mr.  Garrick  asked  him,  '  If  he  had  seen 
them  ? '  *  Yes,  I  have  seen  them.'  '  What  do  you  think  of  them  ?' 
'Think  of  them!'  He  made  a  long  pause,  and  then  replied: 
'  Think  of  them  !  A  scoundrel  and  a  coward  !  A  scoundrel, 
who  spent  his  life  in  charging  a  gun  against  Christianity ;  and 
a  coward,  who  was  afraid  of  hearing  the  report  of  his  own  gun ; 
but  left  half  a  crown  to  a  hungry  Scotchman  to  draw  the  trigger 
after  his  death2/  His  mind,  at  this  time  strained  and  over 
laboured  by  constant  exertion,  called  for  an  interval  of  repose 

1  Ante>  p.  306.  pectations  that  he  rejected  the  offer 

2  The    'hungry'     or     'beggarly  of  ^3,000  which  Millar  offered  him 
Scotchman '  as  he  is  in  the  Life,  i.  for  the  copyright,  although  he  was 
268,  was  David  Mallet.   Bolingbroke  at  this  time  so  distressed  for  money 
left  him  the  copyright  of  all  his  pub-  that  he  was  forced  to  borrow  some 
lished   works,    '  and    all    the   books  of  Millar  to  pay  the  stationer  and 
which,  at  the  time  of  my  decease,  printer.     He  had  reason  to  repent 
shall    be    in    the    room   called    my  his   refusal  as  the   edition  was  not 
library.'     Bolingbroke's    Works,  ed.  sold  off  in  twenty  years.'    Chalmers's 
1809,  i.  Introduction,  p.  219.  Biog.  Diet.,  xxi.  196. 

'  So  sanguine  was  Mallet  in  his  ex- 

and 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  409 

and  indolence.  But  indolence  was  the  time  of  danger :  it  was 
then  that  his  spirits,  not  employed  abroad,  turned  with  inward 
hostility  against  himself1.  His  reflections  on  his  own  life  and 
conduct  were  always  severe ;  and,  wishing  to  be  immaculate,  he 
destroyed  his  own  peace  by  unnecessary  scruples.  He  tells  us, 
that  when  he  surveyed  his  past  life,  he  discovered  nothing  but 
a  barren  waste  of  time,  with  some  disorders  of  body,  and 
disturbances  of  mind,  very  near  to  madness2.  His  life,  he  says, 
from  his  earliest  years,  was  wasted  in  a  morning  bed  3 ;  and  his 
reigning  sin  was  a  general  sluggishness,  to  which  he  was  always 
inclined,  and,  in  part  of  his  life,  almost  compelled,  by  morbid 
melancholy,  and  weariness  of  mind.  This  was  his  constitutional 
malady,  derived,  perhaps,  from  his  father,  who  was,  at  times, 
overcast  with  a  gloom  that  bordered  on  insanity4.  When  to 
this  it  is  added,  that  Johnson,  about  the  age  of  twenty,  drew  up 
a  description  of  his  infirmities,  for  Dr.  Swinfen,  at  that  time  an 
eminent  physician  in  Staffordshire ;  and  received  an  answer  to 
his  letter,  importing,  that  the  symptoms  indicated  a  future 
privation  of  reason5;  who  can  wonder  that  he  was  troubled 
with  melancholy  and  dejection  of  spirit?  An  apprehension  of 
the  worst  calamity  that  can  befal  human  nature  hung  over  him 
all  the  rest  of  his  life,  like  the  sword  of  the  tyrant  suspended 
over  his  guest.  In  his  sixtieth  year  he  had  a  mind  to  write  the 
history  of  his  melancholy ;  but  he  desisted,  not  knowing  whether 
it  would  not  too  much  disturb  him 6.  In  a  Latin  poem,  however, 
to  which  he  has  prefixed  as  a  title,  TiNil©!  2EATTON,  he  has 
left  a  picture,  of  himself,  drawn  with  as  much  truth,  and  as  firm 
a  hand,  as  can  be  seen  in  the  portraits  of  Hogarth  or  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds.  The  learned  reader  will  find  the  original  poem  in 

1  Hawkins,  p.  350.  men."'    Life,  v.  215. 

2  Ante,  p.  78.  5  Murphy  improves  on  Hawkins, 

3  Ante,  p.  72.  who  says  (p.  288)  that  the  physician 

4  '"1   inherited,  (said  he,)  a  vile  said  that  'he  could  think  nothing 
melancholy  from   my  father,  which  better  of  his  disorder  than  that   it 
has  made  me  mad  all  my  life,  at  had    a    tendency  to   insanity;    and 
least  not  sober."  Lady  M'Leod  won-  without  great    care  might    possibly 
dered  he  should  tell  this.     "  Madam,  terminate  in  the  deprivation  of  his 
(said  I,)   he  knows  that  with  that  rational  faculties.'     See  Life,  i.  64. 
madness    he    is    superior    to   other  6  Ante,  p.  48. 

this 


410  Essay  on 


this  volume,  p.  I781;  and  it  is  hoped,  that  a  translation,  or 
rather  imitation,  of  so  curious  a  piece  will  not  be  improper  in 
this  place. 

KNOW  YOURSELF. 

(AFTER  REVISING  AND  ENLARGING  THE  ENGLISH  LEXICON, 
OR  DICTIONARY.) 

When  Scaliger,  whole  years  of  labour  past, 
Beheld  his  Lexicon  complete  at  last, 
And  weary  of  his  task,  with  wond'ring  eyes, 
Saw  from  words  pil'd  on  words  a  fabric  rise, 
He  curs'd  the  industry,  inertly  strong, 
In  creeping  toil  that  could  persist  so  long, 
And  if,  enrag'd  he  cried,  Heav'n  meant  to  shed 
Its  keenest  vengeance  on  the  guilty  head, 
The  drudgery  of  words  the  damn'd  would  know, 
Doom'd  to  write  Lexicons  in  endless  woe2. 

Yes,  you  had  cause,  great  Genius!   to  repent; 
*  You  lost  good  days,  that  might  be  better  spent ; ' 
You  well  might  grudge  the  hours  of  ling'ring  pain, 
And  view  your  learned  labours  with  disdain. 
•"  To  you  were  giv'n  the  large  expanded  mind, 
The  flame  of  genius,  and  the  taste  refin'd. 
'Twas  yours  on  eagle  wings  aloft  to  soar, 
And  amidst  rolling  worlds  the  Great  First  Cause  explore  ; 
To  fix  the  aeras  of  recorded  time, 
And  live  in  ev'ry  age  and  ev'ry  clime; 
Record  the  Chiefs,  who  propt  their  Country's  cause ; 
Who  founded  Empires,  and  establish' d  Laws ; 
To  learn  whate'er  the  Sage  with  virtue  fraught, 
Whate'er  the  Muse  of  moral  wisdom  taught. 
These  were  your  quarry;  these  to  you  were  known, 
And  the  world's  ample  volume  was  your  own. 

Yet  warn'd  by  me,  ye  pigmy  Wits,  beware, 
Nor  with  immortal  Scaliger  compare. 

1   Works,  i.  164 ;  Life,  i.  298,  n.  4.  Nee    rigidas   vexent  fossa  me- 

2'JOSEPHiSCALiGERiEPiGRAMMA.  talla  manus : 

Si  quern   dura  manet  sententia  Lexica    contexat,    nam   caetera 

judicis,  olim  quid  moror  ? 

Damnatum     aerumnis     suppli-  Paenarum  facies  hie  labor  unus 

ciisque  caput,  habet.' 

Hunc  neque  fabrili   lassent  er-  Gentleman' s  Magazine,  \  748,  p.  8. 
gastula  massa, 

For 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


411 


For  me,  though  his  example  strike  my  view, 
Oh !   not  for  me  his  footsteps  to  pursue. 
Whether  first  Nature,  unpropitious,  cold, 
This  clay  compounded  in  a  ruder  mould ; 
Or  the  slow  current,  loit'ring  at  my  heart, 
No  gleam  of  wit  or  fancy  can  impart ; 
Whate'er  the  cause,  from  me  no  numbers  flow, 
No  visions  warm  me,  and  no  raptures  glow. 

A  mind  like  Scaliger's,  superior  still, 
No  grief  could  conquer,  no  misfortune  chill. 
Though  for  the  maze  of  words  his  native  skies 
He  seem'd  to  quit,  'twas  but  again  to  rise ; 
To  mount  once  more  to  the  bright  source  of  day, 
And  view  the  wonders  of  th'  setherial  way. 
The  love  of  Fame  his  gen'rous  bosom  fir'd ; 
Each  Science  hail'd  him,  and  each  Muse  inspir'd, 
For  him  the  Sons  of  Learning  trimm'd  the  bays, 
And  Nations  grew  harmonious  in  his  praise. 

My  task  perform'd,  and  all  my  labours  o'er, 
For  me  what  lot  has  Fortune  now  in  store? 
The  listless  will  succeeds,  that  worst  disease, 
The  rack  of  indolence,  the  sluggish  ease. 
Care  grows  on  care,  and  o'er  my  aching  brain 
Black  Melancholy  pours  her  morbid  train. 
No  kind  relief,  no  lenitive  at  hand, 
I  seek  at  midnight  clubs,  the  social  Band; 
But  midnight  clubs,  where  wit  with  noise  conspires, 
Where  Comus  revels,  and  where  wine  inspires, 
Delight  no  more ;  I  seek  my  lonely  bed, 
And  call  on  Sleep  to  sooth  my  languid  head. 
But  Sleep  from  these  sad  lids  flies  far  away ; 
I  mourn  all  night,  and  dread  the  coming  day, 
Exhausted,  tir'd,  I  throw  my  eyes  around, 
To  find  some  vacant  spot  on  classic  ground; 
And  soon,  vain  hope !  I  form  a  grand  design ; 
Languor  succeeds,  and  all  my  pow'rs  decline. 
If  Science  open  not  her  richest  vein, 
Without  materials  all  our  toil  is  vain. 
A  form  to  rugged  stone  when  Phidias  gives, 
Beneath  his  touch  a  new  creation  lives. 
Remove  his  marble,  and  his  genius  dies  ; 
With  Nature  then  no  breathing  statue  vies. 

Whate'er  I  plan,  I  feel  my  pow'rs  confin'd 
By  Fortune's  frown  and  penury  of  mind. 

I  boast 


412 


Essay  on 


I  boast  no  knowledge  glean 'd  with  toil  and  strife, 

That  bright  reward  of  a  well-acted  life. 

I  view  myself,  while  Reason's  feeble  light 

Shoots  a  pale  glimmer  through  the  gloom  of  night, 

While  passions,  error,  phantoms  of  the  brain, 

And  vain  opinions,  fill  the  dark  domain; 

A  dreary  void,  where  fears  with  grief  combin'd 

Waste  all  within,  and  desolate  the  mind. 

What  then  remains?     Must  I  in  slow  decline 
To  mute  inglorious  ease  old  age  resign  ? 
Or,  bold  ambition  kindling  in  my  breast, 
Attempt  some  arduous  task?     Or,  were  it  best 
Brooding  o'er  Lexicons  to  pass  the  day, 
And  in  that  labour  drudge  my  life  away  ? 

Such  is  the  picture  for  which  Dr.  Johnson  sat  to  himself.  He 
gives  the  prominent  features  of  his  character ;  his  lassitude,  his 
morbid  melancholy,  his  love  of  fame,  his  dejection,  his  tavern- 
parties,  and  his  wandering  reveries,  Vacua  mala  somnia  mentis r, 
about  which  so  much  has  been  written ;  all  are  painted  in 
miniature,  but  in  vivid  colours,  by  his  own  hand.  His  idea  of 
writing  more  Dictionaries  was  not  merely  said  in  verse. 
Mr.  Hamilton,  who  was  at  that  time  an  eminent  printer 2,  and 
well  acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson,  remembers  that  he  engaged 
in  a  Commercial  Dictionary,  and,  as  appears  by  the  receipts 
in  his  possession,  was  paid  his  price  for  several  sheets ;  but  he 
soon  relinquished  the  undertaking3.  It  is  probable,  that  he 
found  himself  not  sufficiently  versed  in  that  branch  of  know 
ledge. 


1  '  Nascuntur  curis  curae,  vexatque 

dolorum 

Importuna  cohors,  vacuae  mala 
somnia  mentis.' 

From  Johnson's-  Poem. 

2  *  On  Monday,  April  19,  Dr.  John 
son  called  on  me  with  Mrs.  Williams, 
in  Mr.  Strahan's  coach. ...  A  printer 
having  acquired  a  fortune  sufficient 
to  keep  his  coach,  was  a  good  topick 
for  the  credit  of  literature.    Mrs.  Wil 
liams  said,  that  another  printer,  Mr. 


Hamilton,  had  not  waited  so  long  as 
Mr.  Strahan,  but  had  kept  his  coach 
several  years  sooner.  JOHNSON. 
"  He  was  in  the  right.  Life  is  short. 
The  sooner  that  a  man  begins  to 
enjoy  his  wealth  the  better." '  Life, 
ii.  226. 

3  Johnson  in  1761  contributed  the 
Preface  to  Rolt's  Dictionary  of  Trade 
and  Commerce.  Life,  i.  358.  It  is 
possible  that  he  at  first  had  under 
taken  the  whole  work. 

He 


Johnson's  Life  and  Gennis.  413 

He  was  again  reduced  to  the  expedient  of  short  compositions 
for  the  supply  of  the  day.  The  writer  of  this  narrative  has 
now  before  him  a  letter  in  Dr.  Johnson's  hand-writing,  which 
shews  the  distress  and  melancholy  situation  of  the  man,  who 
had  written  the  Rambler,  and  finished  the  great  work  of  his 
Dictionary.  The  letter  is  directed  to  Mr.  Richardson  (the 
author  of  Clarissa),  and  is  as  follows : 

'SIR, 

I  am  obliged  to  entreat  your  assistance.  I  am  now  under 
an  arrest  for  five  pounds  eighteen  shillings.  Mr.  Strahan,  from 
whom  I  should  have  received  the  necessary  help  in  this  case,  is 
not  at  home;  and  I  am  afraid  of  not  finding  Mr.  Millar.  If  you 
will  be  so  good  as  to  send  me  this  sum,  I  will  very  gratefully 
repay  you,  and  add  it  to  all  former  obligations.  I  am  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient 

and  most  humble  servant, 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

Gough  Square,  16  March  V 

In  the  margin  of  this  letter  there  is  a  memorandum  in  these 
words:  'March  16,  1756.  Sent  six  guineas.  Witness,  Wm. 
Richardson.5  For  the  honour  of  an  admired  writer  it  is  to  be 
regretted,  that  we  do  not  find  a  more  liberal  entry.  To  his 
friend  in  distress  he  sent  eight  shillings  more  than  was  wanted. 
Had  an  incident  of  this  kind  occurred  in  one  of  his  Romances, 
Richardson  would  have  known  how  to  grace  his  hero ;  but  in 
fictitious  scenes  generosity  costs  the  writer  nothing. 

About  this  time  Johnson  contributed  several  papers  to 
a  periodical  Miscellany,  called  The  VISITOR,  from  motives 
which  are  highly  honourable  to  him,  a  compassionate  regard  for 
the  late  Mr.  Christopher  Smart2.  The  criticism  on  Pope's 
Epitaphs  appeared  in  that  work3.  In  a  short  time  after,  he 
became  a  reviewer  in  the  Literary  Magazine 4,  under  the  auspices 

1  Life,  i.  303,  n.  I ;   Letters,  i.  61.         3  They  were  afterwards  added  first 
Strahan  was  the  printer  and  Millar      to  his  Idler  and  later  on  to  his  Life 
one  of  the  publishers  of  the  Dictionary,      of  Pope. 
Life,  i.  287  ;  iv.  321.  4  Life,  i.  307. 

a  Ib.  ii.  345.     See  ante,  p.  320. 

of 


414 


Essay  on 


of  the  late  Mr.  Newbery,  a  man  of  a  projecting  head,  good  taste, 
and  great  industry1.  This  employment  engrossed  but  little  of 
Johnson's  time.  He  resigned  himself  to  indolence,  took  no 
exercise,  rose  about  two,  and  then  received  the  visits  of  his 
friends.  Authors,  long  since  forgotten,  waited  on  him  as  their 
oracle,  and  he  gave  responses  in  the  chair  of  criticism.  He 
listened  to  the  complaints,  the  schemes,  and  the  hopes  and  fears 
of  a  crowd  of  inferior  writers,  'who,'  he  said,  in  the  words  of 
Roger  Ascham,  '  lived,  men  knew  not  how,  and  died  obscure,  men 
'marked  not  when*?  He  believed,  that  he  could  give  a  better 
history  of  Grub-street  than  any  man  living3.  His  house  was 
filled  with  a  succession  of  visitors  till  four  or  five  in  the  evening. 
During  the  whole  time  he  presided  at  his  tea-table 4.  Tea  was 
his  favourite  beverage;  and,  when  the  late  Jonas  Hanway5 
pronounced  his  anathema  against  the  use  of  tea,  Johnson  rose 
in  defence  of  his  habitual  practice,  declaring  himself  '  in  that 
article  a  hardened  sinner,  who  had  for  years  diluted  his  meals 
with  the  infusion  of  that  fascinating  plant ;  whose  tea-kettle  had 
no  time  to  cool ;  who  with  tea  solaced  the  midnight  hour,  and 
with  tea  welcomed  the  morning  V 


1  Murphy  borrows  from  Hawkins, 
p.  364,  who  describes   Newbery  as 
'  a  man  of  a  projecting  head,  a  good 
understanding,  and  great   integrity, 
who  by  a  fortunate  connexion  with 
Dr.  James,  the   physician,   and   the 
honest  exertions  of  his  own  industry, 
became  the  founder  of  a  family.'    He 
was  the  vendor  of  James's  powder. 
Life,  iii.  4,  n.  2.     See  also  Letters, 

i.  22. 

2  Ante,  p.  315. 

3  Grub   Street  he   defined   in   his 
Dictionary  as  *  the  name  of  a  street 
in  London,  much  inhabited  by  writers 
of  small   histories,  dictionaries,  and 
temporary  poems  ;  whence  any  mean 
production     is    called     Grub-street? 
Life,  \.  296.     He  told  Miss  Burney 
that  he  had  never  visited  it.     Mme. 
D'Arblay's  Diary,  i.  415. 

There  were  two  streets  of  this  name, 


one  by  Fore  Street,  Cripplegate,  the 
other  by  Market  Street,  Westminster. 
Dodsley's  London,  iii.  100.  It  was 
to  the  former  street  that  the  name 
was  given.  A  writer  in  the  Gentle 
man 's  Magazine  for  1735,  p.  2°6>  says 
that  John  Fox  of  the  Book  of  Martyrs 
lived  there.  '  The  Papists  often  called 
him  by  way  of  contempt  the  Grub- 
street  Author.' 

4  Life,  i.  247. 

5  /*.i.  313. 

6  '  A  hardened  and  shameless  tea- 
drinker,  who   has   for  twenty  years 
diluted  his  meals  with  only  the  in 
fusion  of  this  fascinating  plant ;  whose 
kettle  has  scarcely  time  to  cool ;  who 
with  tea  amuses   the   evening,  with 
tea  solaces  the   midnight,  and  with 
tea  welcomes  the  morning.'     Works, 
vi.  21. 

Hawkins  (p.  561)  blames  Johnson's 
The 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  415 

The  proposal  for  a  new  edition  of  Shakspeare,  which  had 
formerly  miscarried1,  was  resumed  in  the  year  1756.  The 
bookseller  readily  agreed  to  his  terms,  and  subscription-tickets 
were  issued  out2.  For  undertaking  this  work,  money,  he  con 
fessed,  was  the  inciting  motive 3.  His  friends  exerted  themselves 
to  promote  his  interest ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  he  engaged  in 
a  new  periodical  production  called  THE  IDLER4.  The  first 
number  appeared  on  Saturday,  April  15,  1758  ;  and  the  last, 
Apri  5,  1760.  The  profits  of  this  work,  and  the  subscrip 
tions  for  the  new  edition  of  Shakspeare,  were  the  means  by 
which  he  supported  himself  for  four  or  five  years.  In  1759 
was  published  Rasselas,  Prince  of  Abyssinia.  His  translation 
of  Lobo's  Voyage  to  Abyssinia  seems  to  have  pointed  out  that 
country  for  the  scene  of  action ;  and  Rassila  Christos 5,  the 
General  of  Sultan  Segiied,  mentioned  in  that  work,  most  prob 
ably  suggested  the  name  of  the  prince.  The  author  wanted  to 
set  out  on  a  journey  to  Lichfield,  in  order  to  pay  the  last  offices 
of  filial  piety  to  his  mother,  who,  at  the  age  of  ninety,  was  then 
near  her  dissolution ;  but  money  was  necessary.  Mr.  Johnston, 
a  bookseller  who  has  long  since  left  off  business,  gave  one 
hundred  pounds  for  the  copy 6.  With  this  supply  Johnson  set 
out  for  Lichfield  ;  but  did  not  arrive  in  time  to  close  the  eyes 
of  a  parent  whom  he  loved.  He  attended  the  funeral,  which,  as 

1  unmanly  thirst  for  tea.'     He  men-  sellers  who  '  found  out  for  him '  this 

tions  however  without  dispraise  the  piece  of  work. 

fact  that  'Bishop  Burnet  for  many  4  Johnson  had 'promised  his  Shake- 
years  drank  sixteen  large  cups  of  it  speare  should  be  published  before 
every  morning.'  Hawkins,  p.  355.  Christmas,  1757'— four  months  before 
Bentham  in  his  old  age  described  he  began  The  Idler.  Life,  i.  319. 
tea  as  '  that  fountain  of  faculties.'  5  Rassela  Christos. 
Bentham's  Works,  x.  506.  6  According  to  Boswell, '  Mr.  Stra- 
1  Ante,  p.  381.  han,  Mr.  Johnston,  and  Mr.  Dodsley, 
"  Life,  i.  318.  One  of  these  tickets  purchased  it  for  ^100,  but  afterwards 
I  give  in  a  note  on  the  Letters,  i.  paid  him  ^25  more  when  it  came  to 
68.  a  second  edition.'  Life,  i.  341.  But 
3  On  finishing  it  he  wrote  to  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  to  Strahan :— '  The 
Warton  :— '  To  tell  the  truth  as  I  felt  bargain  which  I  made  with  Mr.  John- 
no  solicitude  about  this  work  I  re-  son  \sic\  was  seventy-pounds  (or 
ceive  no  great  comfort  from  its  guineas)  a  volume,  and  twenty-five 
conclusion.'  Ib.  i.  123.  According  pounds  for  the  second  edition/ 
to  Hawkins  (p.  361)  it  was  the  book-  Letters,  i.  80. 

appears 


416  Essay  on 


appears  among  his  memorandums,  was  on  the  23d  of  January, 
I759I- 

Johnson  now  found  it  necessary  to  retrench  his  expences. 
He  gave  up  his  house  in  Gough-square.  Mrs.  Williams  went 
into  lodgings.  He  retired  to  Gray's-Inn  2,  and  soon  removed  to 
chambers  in  the  Inner  Temple-lane,  where  he  lived  in  poverty, 
total  idleness,  and  the  pride  of  literature  3.  Magni  stat  nominis 
umbra*.  Mr.  Fitzherbert  (the  father  of  Lord  St.  Helen's,  the 
present  minister  at  Madrid)  a  man  distinguished  through  life  for 
his  benevolence  and  other  amiable  qualities 5,  used  to  say,  that 
he  paid  a  morning  visit  to  Johnson,  intending  from  his  chambers 
to  send  a  letter  into  the  city  ;  but,  to  his  great  surprise,  he  found 
an  author  by  profession  without  pen,  ink,  or  paper.  The  present 
Bishop  of  Salisbury6  was  also  among  those  who  endeavoured, 
by  constant  attention,  to  sooth  the  cares  of  a  mind  which  he 
knew  to  be  afflicted  with  gloomy  apprehensions.  At  one  of  the 
parties  made  at  his  house,  Boscovich 7,  the  Jesuit,  who  had  then 
lately  introduced  the  Newtonian  philosophy  at  Rome,  and,  after 
publishing  an  elegant  Latin  poem  on  the  subject,  was  made 
a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society,  was  one  of  the  company  invited 
to  meet  Dr.  Johnson.  The  conversation  at  first  was  mostly  in 
French.  Johnson,  though  thoroughly  versed  in  that  language, 
and  a  professed  admirer  of  Boileau  and  La  Bruyere8,  did  not 

1  He  did  not  go  to  Lichfield.     He  the  inhabitants  put  together  of  both 

was    on    the    point    of   setting   out  the  Inner  and  Middle  Temple.' 

when  the  news  came  of  her  death.  4  '  Stat    magni    nominis    umbra.' 

Life,   i.   514;    Letters,   i.  81 ;    ante,  Pharsalia,  i.  135.   Windham  (Diary, 

p.  22.  p.  1 8)  jotting  down  Johnson's  talk 

*  He  moved  first  to   Staple  Inn,  at  Ashbourne,  writes : — '  Stat  magni 

on  March  23,   1759.    Letters,  i.  86.  nominis  umbra  would   construe   as 

He  was  in  Gray's  Inn  in  the  follow-  Umbra  quae  est  magni  nom.  h.  e. 

ing  December  (ib.  p.  88)  and  in  Inner  celebrata? 

Temple  Lane  in  June,  1760.     Life,  5  Life,  i.  82;   iii.  148;    Letters,  i. 

i.  350.     In  neither  of  the  two   Inns  45,  n.  6 ;  ante,  p.  256. 

are  his  rooms  known.  6  Dr.  Douglas.     Ante,  p.  397. 

3  'I  have  been  told,'  says  Hawkins  7  Boscovitch.    Life,  ii.  125,  n.  5. 
(P-  383)>   'by  his   neighbour  at  the  8  See  ante,  p.  334,  where  he  con- 
corner,  that  during  the  time  he  dwelt  demned  Mrs.  Thrale   for  preferring 
there  more  inquiries  were  made  at  La  Bruyere  to  the  Duke  of  Roche- 
his  shop  for  Mr.  Johnson  than  for  all  foucault. 

understand 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


understand  its  pronunciation,  nor  could  he  speak  it  himself  with 
propriety.  For  the  rest  of  the  evening  the  talk  was  in  Latin. 
Boscovich  had  a  ready  current  flow  of  that  flimsy  phraseology 
with  which  a  priest  may  travel  through  Italy,  Spain,  and 
Germany.  Johnson  scorned  what  he  called  colloquial  bar 
barisms.  It  was  his  pride  to  speak  his  best.  He  went  on, 
after  a  little  practice,  with  as  much  facility  as  if  it  was  his  native 
tongue.  One  sentence  this  writer  well  remembers.  Observing 
that  Fontinelle  at  first  opposed  the  Newtonian  philosophy,  and 
embraced  it  afterwards,  his  words  were :  Fontinellus,  nifallor,  in 
extremd  senectnte  fuit  transfuga  ad  castra  Newtoniana1. 

We  have  now  travelled  through  that  part  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life 
which  was  a  perpetual  struggle  with  difficulties.  Halcyon  days 2 
are  now  to  open  upon  him.  In  the  month  of  May  1762,  his 
Majesty,  to  reward  literary  merit,  signified  his  pleasure  to  grant 
to  Johnson  a  pension  of  three  hundred  pounds  a  year.  The  Earl 
of  Bute  was  minister3.  Lord  Loughborough,  who,  perhaps, 
was  originally  a  mover  in  the  business 4,  had  authority  to 


1  In  a  note  on  the  fourteenth  of 
Voltaire's  Lettres  sur  les  Anglais  we 
read:— 'Lorsque  cet  article  a  6t6 
e"crit  (1728)  plus  de  quarante  ans 
apres  la  publication  du  livre  des 
Principes,  toute  la  France  dtait  encore 
cartesienne.'  On  Newton's  death  in 
1727  Fontenelle  spoke  the  'Eloge' 
on  him  in  the  Academy  of  Sciences. 
'  On  attendait  en  Angleterre  son  juge- 
ment  comme  une  declaration  solen- 
nelle  de  la  superiority  dela  philosophie 
anglaise ;  mais  quand  on  a  vu  que 
non  seulement  il  s'e"tait  tromp£  en 
rendant  compte  de  cette  philosophie, 
mais  qu'il  comparait  Descartes  a 
Newton,  toute  la  Socie^  royale  de 
Londres  s'est  souleve'e.'  CEuvres 
de  Voltaire,  ed.  1819,  xxiv.  67.  In 
1738  Voltaire  was  refused  in  France 
the  imprimatur  for  his  Eltmens  de 
Newton.  He  printed  it  in  Holland. 
Ib.  xlvii.  pp.  141,  165. 

'  In  a  Latin  conversation  with  the 
VOL.  I.  E 


Pere  Boscovitch,'  writes  Dr.  Maxwell, 
'  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Cholmondeley, 
I  heard  Johnson  maintain  the  su 
periority  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  over 
all  foreign  philosophers,  with  a  dignity 
and  eloquence  that  surprized  that 
learned  foreigner.'  Life,  ii.  125. 

2  '  When    great    Augustus    made 

war's  tempests  cease, 
His  halcyon  days  brought  forth 

the  arts  of  peace.' 
Denham;     quoted     in    John 
son's  Dictionary. 

3  It  was  in  the  month  of  July.    On 
July    24,    Johnson    wrote    to    Miss 
Porter: — 'Last  Monday  I  was  sent 
for  by  the  Chief  Minister  the  Earl 
of  Bute,  who  told  me  that  the  King 
had  empowered  him  to  do  something 
for  me,'  &c.    Letters,  i.  92.     See  also 
Life,  i.  376. 

4  Lord  Bute  told  me,'  writes  Bos- 
well,    '  that  Mr.  Wedderburne,  now 
Lord  Loughborough,  was  the  person 

e  mention 


418 


Essay  on 


mention  it.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  Johnson  ;  but,  having 
heard  much  of  his  independent  spirit,  and  of  the  downfall  of 
Osborne  the  bookseller,  he  did  not  know  but  his  benevolence  might 
be  rewarded  with  a  folio  on  his  head  x.  He  desired  the  author  of 
these  memoirs  to  undertake  the  task 2.  This  writer  thought  the 
opportunity  of  doing  so  much  good  the  most  happy  incident  in 
his  life.  He  went,  without  delay,  to  the  chambers  in  the  Inner 
Temple-lane,  which,  in  fact,  were  the  abode  of  wretchedness. 
By  slow  and  studied  approaches  the  message  was  disclosed. 
Johnson  made  a  long  pause :  he  asked  if  it  was  seriously 
intended  ?  He  fell  into  a  profound  meditation,  and  his  own 
definition  of  a  pensioner  occurred  to  him3.  He  was  told,  'That 
he,  at  least,  did  not  come  within  the  definition.'  He  desired  to 
meet  next  day,  and  dine  at  the  Mitre  Tavern4.  At  that  meeting 
he  gave  up  all  his  scruples.  On  the  following  day  Lord  Lough- 
borough  conducted  him  to  the  Earl  of  Bute.  The  conversation 
that  passed  was  in  the  evening  related  to  this  writer  by 
Dr.  Johnson.  He  expressed  his  sense  of  his  Majesty's  bounty, 
and  thought  himself  the  more  highly  honoured,  as  the  favour 
was  not  bestowed  on  him  for  having  dipped  his  pen  in  faction. 
'  No,  Sir,'  said  Lord  Bute,  '  it  is  not  offered  to  you  for  having 
dipped  your  pen  in  faction,  nor  with  a  design  that  you  ever 
should  5.'  Sir  John  Hawkins  will  have  it,  that,  after  this  interview, 


who  first  mentioned  this  subject  to 
him.'  Life,  i.  373.  For  Wedderburne's 
going  on  errands  for  Lord  Bute,  see 
ii>.  ii.  354- 

1  Ante,  p.  381. 

2  *  Mr.  Murphy  and  the   late  Mr. 
Sheridan  severally  contended  for  the 
distinction  of  having  been   the  first 
who  mentioned  to  Mr.  Wedderburne 
that  Johnson  ought  to  have  a  pension.' 
Life,  i.  374. 

3  Pension.   '  An  allowance  made  to 
any  one  without  an  equivalent.     In 
England  it  is  generally  understood 
to  mean  pay  given  to  a  state  hireling 
for  treason  to  his  country.'  Pensioner. 
(  One  who  is  supported  by  an  allow 
ance   paid   at  the   will   of  another; 


a  dependant.'  These  definitions  re 
main  in  the  fourth  edition,  corrected 
by  Johnson  in  1773. 

4  '  I  had  learnt  that  his   place  of 
frequent  resort  was  the  Mitre  tavern 
in  Fleet-street,  where  he  loved  to  sit 
up  late,  and  I  begged  I  might  be 
allowed  to  pass  an  evening  with  him 
there    soon,   which  he    promised   I 
should.'     Ib.  i.  399. 

5  In  the  review  of  Hawkins's  John 
son   in   the   Monthly  Review,  Ixxvi. 
375,  no  doubt   written   by  Murphy, 
it  is  not  design  but  desire.     Murphy 
adds  :— '  On  the  next  day  Mr.  Murphy 
was  in  the  Temple  soon  after  nine ; 
he  got  Johnson  ^lp  and  dressed  in  due 
time  ;  and  saw  him  set  off  at  eleven.' 

Johnson 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  419 

Johnson  was  often  pressed  to  wait  on  Lord  Bute,  but  with 
a  sullen  spirit  refused  to  comply  '.  However  that  be,  Johnson 
was  never  heard  to  utter  a  disrespectful  word  of  that  nobleman  2. 
The  writer  of  this  essay  remembers  a  circumstance  which  may 
throw  some  light  on  this  subject.  The  late  Dr.  Rose,  of 
Chiswick,  whom  Johnson  loved  and  respected,  contended  for 
the  pre-eminence  of  the  Scotch  writers  ;  and  Ferguson's  book  on 
Civil  Society,  then  on  the  eve  of  publication,  he  said,  would  give 
the  laurel  to  North  Britain.  '  Alas  !  what  can  he  do  upon  that 
subject?"  said  Johnson:  'Aristotle,  Polybius,  Grotius,  Puffen- 
dorf,  and  Burlamaqui,  have  reaped  in  that  field  before  him.' 
'  He  will  treat  it,'  said  Dr.  Rose,  '  in  a  new  manner.'  '  A  new 
manner  !  Buckinger  had  no  hands,  and  he  wrote  his  name  with 
his  toes  at  Charing-cross,  for  half  a  crown  apiece;  that  was 
a  new  manner  of  writing  3  !  '  Dr.  Rose  replied,  '  If  that  will  not 
satisfy  you,  I  will  name  a  writer,  whom  you  must  allow  to  be 
the  best  in  the  kingdom.'  '  Who  is  that  ?  '  '  The  Earl  of  Bute, 
when  he  wrote  an  order  for  your  pension.'  'There,  Sir,'  said 
Johnson,  '  you  have  me  in  the  toil  :  to  Lord  Bute  I  must  allow 
whatever  praise  you  may  claim  for  him  V  Ingratitude  was  no 
of  Johnson's  character. 


Being  now  in  the  possession  of  a  regular  income,  Johnson  left 
his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  and  once  more  became  master  of 

1  Murphy  misrepresents  Hawkins,  136),  who  had  his  information  from 
who    says    (p.    393):  —  'It    was    by  James  Elphinston,  says  that  'John- 
Johnson  and  his  friends  thought  fit  son   dined  at  Mr.  Elphinston's  but 
that  he  should  return  thanks  for  this  a  few  days  before  the  pension  was 
distinguishing    mark    of    the    royal  proposed.     He  was  there  asked  why 
favour,  and  that  Lord  Bute  was  the  he   had   shown   such  dislike  to  the 
proper  person  to  convey  them.     Ac-  minister  ;  because,  said  he,  he  gave 
cordingly  he  waited  on  his  Lordship,  the   King  a  wrong  education.     He 
and  being  admitted  to  him  testified  had  only  taught  him,  added  John- 
his  sense  of  the  obligation  ;  but  having  son,  to  draw  a  tree' 

done  this  he  thought  he   had   done  3  Ante,  p.  188. 

enough,    and   never  after  could    be  4  Boswell   mentions   this   story  as 

prevailed  on  to  knock  at  his  door.'  '  having  been  circulated  both  in  con- 

2  He  reproached  Bute  with  '  shew-  versation  and   in  print  ----  When   I 
ing  an  undue  partiality  to  Scotchmen.'  mentioned  it  to  Johnson,  "  Sir,  (said 
Life,   ii.    354.      The   author   of   the  he)  if  Rose  said  this  I  never  heard 
Memcirs  of  Dr.  Johnson  (1785,  p.  it.'"    Life,  iv.  168,  n.  I. 

a  house 


420 


Essay  on 


a  house  in  Johnson's-court,  Fleet-street x.  Dr.  Levet,  his  friend 
and  physician  in  ordinary,  paid  his  daily  visits  with  assiduity ; 
made  tea  all  the  morning,  talked  what  he  had  to  say,  and  did 
not  expect  an  answer.  Mrs.  Williams  had  her  apartment  in  the 
house,  and  entertained  her  benefactor  with  more  enlarged  con 
versation.  Chemistry  was  part  of  Johnson's  amusement.  For 
this  love  of  experimental  philosophy,  Sir  John  Hawkins  thinks 
an  apology  necessary.  He  tells  us,  with  great  gravity,  that 
curiosity  was  the  only  object  in  view ;  not  an  intention  to  grow 
suddenly  rich  by  the  philosopher's  stone,  or  the  transmutation  of 
metals 2.  To  enlarge  his  circle,  Johnson  once  more  had  recourse 
to  a  literary  club.  This  was  at  the  Turk's  Head,  in  Gerrard- 
street,  Soho,  on  every  Tuesday  evening  through  the  year  3.  The 
members  were,  besides  himself,  the  right  honourable  Edmund 
Burke,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Dr.  Nugent,  Dr.  Goldsmith,  the 
late  Mr.  Topham  Beauclerk,  Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Chamier,  Sir 
John  Hawkins,  and  some  others 4.  Johnson's  affection  for  Sir 
Joshua  was  founded  on  a  long  acquaintance,  and  a  thorough 


1  Life,  ii.  5.     For  his  house  in  Bolt 
Court  into  which  he  moved  in  the 
winter  of  1775-6  he  paid  .£40  a  year 
rent.     Wheatley's  London,  i.  216. 

2  Hawkins,  p.  413.    Hawkins  adds 
that  'Johnson  had  for  a  laboratory 
the  garret  over  his  chambers  in  the 
Inner    Temple;    he  furnished    that 
with    an   alembic,   with   retorts,   re 
ceivers,  and  other  vessels  adapted  to 
the  cheapest  processes.  .  .  .  From  the 
dregs  of  strong  beer  he  was  able  to 
extract  a  strong  but  very  nauseous 
spirit,   which   all    might    smell,   but 
few  chose  to  taste.'     See  ante,  pp. 
307,  408. 

3  It  was  on  Monday  evening  that 
the   Club  met.      In   Dec.  1772   the 
night  was  changed  to  Friday.     Life, 
i.  478,  n.  3;  Hawkins,  p.  415. 

'The  object  of  all  clubs  is  either 
drinking  or  gaming,  but  commonly 
both.'  Chesterfield's  Letters,  ed. 
1845,  ii.  425. 

If  this  is  true  Johnson  and  Rey 


nolds  instituted  a  new  kind  of  club. 

4  The  original  members  were  the 
nine  mentioned.  Ante,  p.  230.  For 
those  who  joined  afterwards,  see 
Life,  i.  478,  n.  2,  479. 

In  the  Malone  MSS.  in  the  British 
Museum,  in  No.  36,  which  contains 
two  lists  of  the  members,  are  the 
following  entries. 

*  9.  Sir  John  Hawkins. 
Sent  to  Coventry 
Withdrew   s—  [MS.  im 
perfect].' 

'  Sr  John  Hawkins  sent  to 
Coventry  and 
expelled.' 

According  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
Hawkins  '  one  evening  attacked  Mr. 
Burke  in  so  rude  a  manner  that  all 
the  company  testified  their  displea 
sure  ;  and  at  their  next  meeting  his 
reception  was  such  that  he  never 
came  again.'  Life,  i.  479.  For 
Hawkins's  'dark  allusion'  to  Burke 
see  ib.,  n.  i. 

knowledge 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  421 


knowledge  of  the  virtues  and  amiable  qualities  of  that  excellent 
artist T.  He  delighted  in  the  conversation  of  Mr.  Burke 2.  He 
met  him  for  the  first  time  at  Mr.  Garrick's  several  years  ago. 
On  the  next  day  he  said,  '  I  suppose,  Murphy,  you  are  proud  of 
your  countryman.  CUM  TALIS  SIT  UTINAM  NOSTER  ESSEX  ! ' 
From  that  time  his  constant  observation  was,  '  That  a  man  of 
sense  could  not  meet  Mr.  Burke  by  accident,  under  a  gateway 
to  avoid  a  shower,  without  being  convinced  that  he  was  the  first 
man  in  England  V  Johnson  felt  not  only  kindness,  but  zeal  and 
ardour  for  his  friends 4.  He  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to 
advance  the  reputation  of  Dr.  Goldsmith.  He  loved  him.  though 
he  knew  his  failings,  and  particularly  the  leaven  of  envy  which 
corroded  the  mind  of  that  elegant  writer,  and  made  him  im 
patient,  without  disguise,  of  the  praises  bestowed  on  any  person 
whatever  5.  Of  this  infirmity,  which  marked  Goldsmith's  char 
acter,  Johnson  gave  a  remarkable  instance.  It  happened  that 
he  went  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  Goldsmith  to  see  the 
Fantoccini,  which  were  exhibited  some  years  ago  in  or  near  the 
Haymarket.  They  admired  the  curious  mechanism  by  which 
the  puppets  were  made  to  walk  the  stage,  draw  a  chair  to  the 

1  'Sir    Joshua    Reynolds,'    writes         2  He  praised  its   'affluence.'    Ib. 

Boswell,  'was  truly  his  duke  decus?  ii.  181.     '  His  stream  of  mind  is  per- 

Life,  i.  244.     Sir  Pearce  Edgcumbe  petual.'     Ib.  ii.  450.     '  Burke  is  the 

of  Somerleigh  Court,  Dorchester,  the  only  man  whose  common  conversation 

great-grandson  of  Sir  Joshua's  sister  corresponds  with   the  general  fame 

Mary,  has   pointed  out  to  me  how  which  he  has  in  the  world.     Take  up 

many  of  the  great  painter's  relations  whatever  topic  you  please,  he  is  ready 

were  University  men.  On  the  paternal  to  meet  you.'     Ib.  iv.  19.     'His  talk 

side,  his  grandfather  was  a  B.A.  of  is  the  ebullition  of  his  mind  ;  he  does 

Exeter ;  his  father  a  Fellow  of  Balliol ;  not  talk  from  a  desire  of  distinction, 

his  uncle  Joshua  a  Fellow  of  Corpus ;  but  because  his  mind  is  full.'    Ib.  iv. 

and  his  cousin  William  a  Fellow  of  167.      '  He   is   never   what  we   call 

Exeter,  Oxford  ;  while  his  uncle  John  hum-drum  ;  never  unwilling  to  begin 

was   a    Fellow    of    King's    College,  to  talk,  nor  in  haste  to   leave  off.' 

Cambridge,   and    of    Eton    College.  Ib.  v.  33. 

His  mother's  grandfather,  the  Rev.         3  '  If  a  man  were  to  go  by  chance 

Thomas  Baker,  an  eminent  mathe-  at  the  same  time  with  Burke  under 

matician,  was  a  Scholar  of  Wadham.  a  shed  to  shun  a  shower,  he  would 

This  connection  with  the  two  uni-  say— "this  is  an  extraordinary  man."  ' 

versities,     especially     with     Oxford,  Ib.  iv.  275.     See  also  ib.  v.  34,  and 

would  have  endeared  him   all    the  ante,  p.  290.  4  Ante,  p.  279. 

more  to  Johnson.  5  Life,  i.  4U  J  »•  260;  iii.  271. 

table, 


422  Essay  on 


table,  sit  down,  write  a  letter,  and  perform  a  variety  of  other 
actions  with  such  dexterity,  that  though  Nature  s  journeymen 
made  the  men,  they  imitated  humanity  to  the  astonishment  of  the 
spectator1.  The  entertainment  being  over,  the  three  friends 
retired  to  a  tavern.  Johnson  and  Sir  Joshua  talked  with  pleasure 
of  what  they  had  seen  ;  and  says  Johnson,  in  a  tone  of  admira 
tion,  '  How  the  little  fellow  brandished  his  spontoon 2 ! '  '  There 
is  nothing  in  it,'  replied  Goldsmith,  starting  up  with  impatience  ; 
'  give  me  a  spontoon  ;  I  can  do  it  as  well  myself  V 

Enjoying  his  amusements  at  his  weekly  club 4,  and  happy  in 
a  state  of  independence,  Johnson  gained  in  the  year  1765  another 
resource,  which  contributed  more  than  any  thing  else  to  exempt 
him  from  the  solicitudes  of  life.  He  was  introduced  to  the  late 
Mr.  Thrale  and  his  family.  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  related  the  fact,  and 
it  is  therefore  needless  to  repeat  it  in  this  place 5.  The  author 
of  this  narrative  looks  back  to  the  share  he  had  in  that  business 
with  self-congratulation,  since  he  knows  the  tenderness  which 
from  that  time  soothed  Johnson's  cares  at  Streatham,  and  pro 
longed  a  valuable  life  6.  The  subscribers  to  Shakspeare  began 
to  despair  of  ever  seeing  the  promised  edition 7.  To  acquit  him 
self  of  this  obligation,  he  went  to  work  unwillingly,  but  pro 
ceeded  with  vigour.  In  the  month  of  October  1765,  Shakspeare 
was  published 8 ;  and,  in  a  short  time  after,  the  University  of 

1  '  I  have  thought  some  of  Nature's  selection  of  it,  and  was  so  constant 
journeymen  had  made  men  and  not  at  our  meetings  as  never  to  absent 
made  them  well,  they  imitated  hu-  himself.     It  is  true  he  came  late,  but 
inanity  so  abominably.'   Hamlet,  Act  then  he   stayed  late.'     Hawkins,  p. 
iii.  sc.  2.  1.  37.  424.     He  was  in  later  years  irregular 

2  Spontoon    is    not    in   Johnson's  in  his  attendance.    Ante,  p.  229,  n.  4. 
Dictionary.  5  Ante,  p.  232. 

3  According  to  Boswell '  Goldsmith  6  In  his  last  letter  to  her  Johnson 
went  home  with  Mr.  Burke  to  supper ;  speaks     of     'that     kindness    which 
and  broke  his  shin  by  attempting  to  soothed  twenty  years  of  a  life  radi- 
exhibit  to  the  company  how   much  cally  wretched.'     Letters,  ii.  407. 
better  he  could  jump  over  a   stick  7   For    Churchill's    taunt    on    the 
than  the  puppets.'     Life,  i.  414,  n.  4.  delay,  see  Life,  i.  319. 

4  *  The  hours  which  Johnson  spent  8  Life,  i.  496.    For  the  first  edition 
in    this    society   seemed    to   be   the  he  received  ^375,  and  for  the  second, 
happiest  of  his  life;  he  would  often  ^100.     Gentleman's  Magazine,  1787, 
applaud    his    own    sagacity   in    the  p.  76. 

Dublin 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  423 

Dublin  sent  over  a  diploma,  in  honourable  terms,  creating  him 
a  Doctor  of  Laws  *.  Oxford  in  eight  or  ten  years  afterwards 
followed  the  example ;  and  till  then  Johnson  never  assumed  the 
title  of  Doctor  2.  In  1 766  his  constitution  seemed  to  be  in  a 
rapid  decline,  and  that  morbid  melancholy,  which  often  clouded 
his  understanding,  came  upon  him  with  a  deeper  gloom  than 
ever.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale  paid  him  a  visit  in  this  situation, 
and  found  him  on  his  knees,  with  Dr.  Delap,  the  rector  of  Lewes, 
in  Sussex,  beseeching  God  to  continue  to  him  the  use  of  his 
understanding  3.  Mr.  Thrale  took  him  to  his  house  at  Streatham ; 
and  Johnson  from  that  time  became  a  constant  resident  in  the 
family.  He  went  occasionally  to  the  club  in  Gerrard-street ;  but 
his  head  quarters  were  fixed  at  Streatham  4.  An  apartment  was 
fitted  up  for  him,  and  the  library  was  greatly  enlarged.  Parties 
were  constantly  invited  from  town  ;  and  Johnson  was  every  day 
at  an  elegant  table,  with  select  and  polished  company.  What 
ever  could  be  devised  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale  to  promote  the 
happiness,  and  establish  the  health  of  their  guest,  was  studiously 
performed  from  that  time  to  the  end  of  Mr.  Thrale's  life5. 
Johnson  accompanied  the  family  in  all  their  summer  excursions 
to  Brighthelmstone,  to  Wales  6,  and  to  Paris 7.  It  is  but  justice 
to  Mr.  Thrale  to  say,  that  a  more  ingenuous  frame  of  mind 
no  man  possessed.  His  education  at  Oxford  gave  him  the 
habits  of  a  gentleman  8 ;  his  amiable  temper  recommended  his 

1  Life,  i.  488.  Mr.   Thrale's   house    in   Southwark. 

2  The  Oxford  degree  was  conferred     Life,  i.  493. 

in  1775.     Ib.  ii.  331.     According  to  5  Had  Mr.  Thrale  lived  only  four 

Hawkins  (p.  446) :— *  His  attachment  years  longer  how  different  would  have 

to  Oxford  prevented  Johnson  from  been  the  closing  scene  of  Johnson's 

receiving   this   honour   [the   Dublin  life ! 

degree]  as  it  was  intended,  and  he  6  Life,  ii.  285  ;  v.  42?- 

never   assumed    the    title   which    it  7  Ib.  ii.  384. 

conferred.'  8  Murphy  perhaps  is  thinking  of 

Boswell  states  :— '  It  is  remarkable  Boswell,  who  writing  of  Thrale  had 

that  he  never,   so  far  as    I    know,  said:— 'There    may  be    some    who 

assumed  his  title  of  Z?0<r/0r,  but  called  think  that  a  new  system  of  gentility 

himself  Mr.  Johnson.'     Life,  ii.  332,  might  be  established  upon  principles 

».  i.     In  this  Boswell  was  not  per-  totally    different    from    what    have 

fectly  accurate.     Ib.  hitherto  prevailed.  .  .  .  Such  are  the 

3  Ante,  p.  234.  specious,  but  false  arguments  for  a 

4  He   had  his  apartment   also   in  proposition   which  always  will  find 

conversation, 


424  Essay  on 


conversation,  and  the  goodness  of  his  heart  made  him  a  sincere 
friend.  That  he  was  the  patron  of  Johnson,  is  an  honour  to 
his  memory. 

In  petty  disputes  with  contemporary  writers,  or  the  wits  of 
the  age,  Johnson  was  seldom  entangled.  A  single  incident  of 
that  kind  may  not  be  unworthy  of  notice,  since  it  happened  with 
a  man  of  great  celebrity  in  his  time.  A  number  of  friends  dined 
with  Garrick  on  a  Christmas  day x.  Foote  was  then  in  Ireland. 
It  was  said  at  table,  that  the  modern  Aristophanes  (so  Foote  was 
called)  had  been  horse-whipped  by  a  Dublin  apothecary,  for 
mimicking  him  on  the  stage.  '  I  wonder,'  said  Garrick,  '  that 
any  man  should  shew  so  much  resentment  to  Foote ;  he  has  a 
patent  for  such  liberties  ;  nobody  ever  thought  it  worth  his  while 
to  quarrel  with  him  in  London.'  '  I  am  glad,'  said  Johnson,  '  to 
find  that  the  man  is  rising  in  the  world.'  The  expression  was 
afterwards  reported  to  Foote  ;  who,  in  return,  gave  out,  that  he 
would  produce  the  Caliban  of  literature2  on  the  stage.  Being 
informed  of  this  design,  Johnson  sent  word  to  Foote,  '  That  the 
theatre  being  intended  for  the  reformation  of  vice,  he  would 
step  from  the  boxes  on  the  stage,  and  correct  him  before  the 
audience  V  Foote  knew  the  intrepidity  of  his  antagonist,  and 
abandoned  the  design.  No  ill-will  ensued.  Johnson  used  to  say, 
4  That,  for  broad-faced  mirth,  Foote  had  not  his  equal  V 

Dr.  Johnson's  fame  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  King.  His 
Majesty  expressed  a  desire  to  see  a  man  of  whom  extraordinary 

numerous    advocates,    in    a    nation  Burney,  ii.  256,  n.  2. 

where  men  are  every  day  starting  up  x  Murphy,  who  tells  this  story  in 

from  obscurity  to  wealth.     To  refute  the  Monthly  Review,  vol.  76,  p.  374, 

them  is  needless.    The  general  sense  places  it  in  1760. 

of  mankind  cries  out,  with  irresistible  2  '  Being  told  that  Gilbert  Cooper 

force,  "  Un  gentilhomme  est  toujours  called  him  the  Caliban  of  literature, 

gentilhomtne" '     Life,  i.  491.  "  Well,  (said  Johnson)  I  must  dub 

Johnson  described   Thrale  as    'a  him  the  Punchinello." '    Life,  ii.  129. 

regular  scholar.'     Ib.  p.   494.     Miss  Cooper  '  was  the  last  of  the  bene- 

Burney,  on  first  seeing  him,  wrote : —  volists  or  sentimentalists.'      Ib,  iii. 

'He    is    a    very    tall,    well-looking  149,  n.  2. 

man,  very   well-bred,    but   shy    and  3  Ib.  ii.  95,  299. 

reserved.'    Early  Diary  of  Frances  4  Ante,  p.  265. 

things 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  425 

things  were  said.  Accordingly,  the  librarian  at  Buckingham- 
house  invited  Johnson  to  see  that  elegant  collection  of  books,  at 
the  same  time  giving  a  hint  of  what  was  intended  '.  His  Majesty 
entered  the  room  ;  and,  among  other  things,  asked  the  author, 
'  If  he  meant  to  give  the  world  any  more  of  his  compositions  ? ' 
Johnson  answered,  'That  he  thought  he  had  written  enough.' 
'  And  I  should  think  so  too/  replied  his  Majesty,  '  if  you  had  not 
written  so  well  V 

Though  Johnson  thought  he  had  written  enough,  his  genius, 
even  in  spite  of  bodily  sluggishness,  could  not  lie  still.  In  1770 
we  find  him  entering  the  lists  as  a  political  writer.  The  flame 
of  discord  that  blazed  throughout  the  nation  on  the  expulsion 
of  Mr.  Wilkes,  and  the  final  determination  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  that  Mr.  Luttrell  was  duly  elected  by  206  3  votes 
against  1143,  spread  a  general  spirit  of  discontent.  To  allay  the 
tumult,  Dr.  Johnson  published  The  False  Alarm.  Mrs.  Piozzi 
informs  us,  '  That  this  pamphlet  was  written  at  her  house,  be 
tween  eight  o'clock  on  Wednesday  night  and  twelve  on  Thursday 
night4.'  This  celerity  has  appeared  wonderful  to  many,  and 
some  have  doubted  the  truth 5.  It  may,  however,  be  placed 
within  the  bounds  of  probability.  Johnson  has  observed  that 
there  are  different  methods  of  composition.  Virgil  was  used  to 
pour  out  a  great  number  of  verses  in  the  morning,  and  pass  the 
day  in  retrenching  the  exuberances,  and  correcting  inaccuracies ; 
and  it  was  Pope's  custom  to  write  his  first  thoughts  in  his  first 
words,  and  gradually  to  amplify,  decorate,  rectify,  and  refine 
them6.  Others  employ  at  once  memory  and  invention,  and, 

1  Johnson  had  been  in  the  habit  of  2  Life,  ii.  35. 

reading  in  the  Library.     Life,  ii.  33.  3  296  votes.     Ib.  ii.  ill,  n.  2. 

Gibbon,  writing  in   1779,  says: —  4  Ante,  p.  173. 

'The  greatest  city  in  the   world   is  5  Speaking  of  his  Debates  he  said:— 

still  destitute  of  a  public  library ;  and  *  Three  columns  of  the  Magazine  in 

the  writer,  who  has  undertaken   to  an  hour  was   no  uncommon   effort, 

treat  any  large  historical  subject,  is  which  was  faster  than  most  persons 

reduced  to  the  necessity  of  purchasing  could  have  transcribed  that  quantity.' 

for  his  private  use  a  numerous  and  Life,  iv.  409. 

valuable  collection  of  the  books  which  6  The  whole  paragraph  is  borrowed 

must  form   the   basis   of  his  work.'  with  alterations  from  Johnson's  Life 

Misc.  Works,  iv.  591.  of  Pope.     Works,  viii.  321. 

with 


426  Essay  on 


with  little  intermediate  use  of  the  pen,  form  and  polish  large 
masses  by  continued  meditation,  and  write  their  productions  only, 
when,  in  their  opinion,  they  have  completed  them.  This  last 
was  Johnson's  method.  He  never  took  his  pen  in  hand  till  he 
had  weighed  well  his  subject,  and  grasped  in  his  mind  the  senti 
ments,  the  train  of  argument,  and  the  arrangement  of  the  whole. 
As  he  often  thought  aloud,  he  had,  perhaps,  talked  it  over  to 
himself.  This  may  account  for  that  rapidity  with  which,  in 
general,  he  dispatched  his  sheets  to  the  press,  without  being  at 
the  trouble  of  a  fair  copy1.  Whatever  may  be  the  logic  or 
eloquence  of  The  False  Alarm,  the  House  of  Commons  have 
since  erased  the  resolution  from  the  Journals2.  But  whether 
they  have  not  left  materials  for  a  future  controversy  may  be 
made  a  question. 

In  1771  he  published  another  tract,  on  the  subject  of  FALK 
LAND  ISLANDS.  The  design  was  to  shew  the  impropriety  of 
going  to  war  with  Spain  for  an  island  thrown  aside  from  human 
use,  stormy  in  winter,  and  barren  in  summer 3.  For  this  work 
it  is  apparent  that  materials  were  furnished  by  direction  of  the 
minister4. 

At  the  approach  of  the  general  election  in  1774,  he  wrote 
a  short  discourse,  called  THE  PATRIOT,  not  with  any  visible 
application  to  Mr.  Wilkes  s ;  but  to  teach  the  people  to  reject 
the  leaders  of  the  opposition,  who  called  themselves  patriots. 
In  1775  he  undertook  a  pamphlet  of  more  importance,  namely, 
Taxation  no  Tyranny 6,  in  answer  to  the  Resolutions  and  Address 
of  the  American  Congress.  The  scope  of  the  argument  was, 
that  distant  colonies,  which  had,  in  their  assemblies,  a  legislature 
of  their  own,  were,  notwithstanding,  liable  to  be  taxed  in  a 
British  Parliament,  where  they  had  neither  peers  in  one  house, 
nor  representatives  in  the  other.  He  was  of  opinion,  that  this 
country  was  strong  enough  to  enforce  obedience.  '  When  an 

1  Life,  i.  71 ;  iii.  62,  n.  I.  4  Life,  ii.  134. 

2  Ib.  ii.  112.  5  Ib.  ii.  286.    Wilkes  is  mentioned 

3  Murphy    quotes    the    pamphlet,  in  it.     Works,  vi.  216. 
Works,  vi.  198.  6  Life,  ii.  312. 

Englishman, 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


427 


Englishman,  he  says,  *  is  told  that  the  Americans  shoot  up  like 
the  hydra,  he  naturally  considers  how  the  hydra  was  destroyed  V 
The  event  has  shewn  how  much  he  and  the  minister  of  that  day 
were  mistaken. 


The  Account  of  the  Tour  to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland, 
which  was  undertaken  in  the  autumn  of  1773,  in  company  with 
Mr.  Boswell,  was  not  published  till  some  time  in  the  year  1775 2. 
This  book  has  been  variously  received  ;  by  some  extolled  for  the 
elegance  of  the  narrative,  and  the  depth  of  observation  on  life 
and  manners ;  by  others,  as  much  condemned,  as  a  work  of 
avowed  hostility  to  the  Scotch  nation 3.  The  praise  was,  beyond 
all  question,  fairly  deserved  ;  and  the  censure,  on  due  examina 
tion,  will  appear  hasty  and  ill-founded.  That  Johnson  entertained 
some  prejudices  against  the  Scotch,  must  not  be  dissembled.  It 
is  true,  as  Mr.  Boswell  says,  '  that  he  thought  their  success  in 
England  [rather]  exceeded  their  proportion  of  real  merit,  and  he 
could  not  but  see  in  them  that  nationality  which  [I  believe]  no 
liberal-minded  Scotsman  will  deny*!  The  author  of  these 
memoirs  well  remembers,  that  Johnson  one  day  asked  him, 
'  Have  you  observed  the  difference  between  your  own  country 
impudence  and  Scottish  impudence  ? '  The  answer  being  in  the 
negative :  '  Then  I  will  tell  you,'  said  Johnson.  '  The  impudence 
of  an  Irishman  is  the  impudence  of  a  fly,  that  buzzes  about  you, 
and  you  put  it  away,  but  it  returns  again,  and  flutters  and 
teazes  you.  The  impudence  of  a  Scotsman  is  the  impudence  of 
a  leech,  that  fixes  and  sucks  your  blood  V  Upon  another  occa 
sion,  this  writer  went  with  him  into  the  shop  of  Davies  the 


1  'When  it  is  urged  that  they  will 
shoot  up,'  &c.      Works,  vi.  227. 

2  Life,  ii.  290. 

3  Id.  ii.  300. 

4  Id.  v.  20. 

Hannah  More  (Memoirs,  iv.  193) 
records  '  the  answer  some  one  made 
to  a  minister  who  asked  whether  he 
could  do  anything  for  him— "No 
thing,"  he  replied,  "  unless  you  could 
make  me  a  Scotchman."  She  goes 


on  to  tell  how  two  Englishmen, 
arriving  at  Tunbridge  Wells,  got 
shaved  by  a  barber  of  the  place, 
whom  their  Scotch  companion  de 
clined  to  employ.  They  heard  the 
waiter  whisper  to  him,  "  Sir,  I  have 
found  a  Scotch  barber,"  to  which  he 
replied,  "Oh!  very  good,  let  him 
walk  in." ' 

5  Life,  ii.  307  ;  iv.  12. 

bookseller, 


428 


Essay  on 


bookseller,  in  Russel-street,  Covent-garden.  Davies  came  run 
ning  to  him  almost  out  of  breath  with  joy :  '  The  Scots  gentleman 
is  come,  Sir ;  his  principal  wish  is  to  see  you  ;  he  is  now  in  the 
back-parlour.'  *  Well,  well,  I'll  see  the  gentleman,'  said  Johnson. 
He  walked  towards  the  room.  Mr.  Boswell  was  the  person. 
This  writer  followed  with  no  small  curiosity.  '  I  find,'  said 
Mr.  Boswell, '  that  I  am  come  to  London  at  a  bad  time,  when 
great  popular  prejudice  has  gone  forth  against  us  North  Britons  ; 
but  when  I  am  talking  to  you,  I  am  talking  to  a  large  and  liberal 
mind,  and  you  know  that  I  cannot  help  coming  from  Scotland' 
1  Sir,'  said  Johnson, '  no  more  can  the  rest  of  your  countrymen  V 


He  had  other  reasons  that  helped  to  alienate  him  from  the 
natives  of  Scotland.  Being  a  cordial  well-wisher  to  the  constitu 
tion  in  Church  and  State,  he  did  not  think  that  Calvin  and  John 
Knox  2  were  proper  founders  of  a  national  religion.  He  made, 
however,  a  wide  distinction  between  the  Dissenters  of  Scotland  3 


1  '  Mr.  Murphy,  in  his  Essay  on 
the  Life  and  Genius  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
has  given  an  account  of  this  meeting 
considerably  different  from  mine,  I 
am  persuaded  without  any  conscious 
ness  of  errour.  His  memory,  at  the 
end  of  nearly  thirty  years,  has  un 
doubtedly  deceived  him,  and  he 
supposes  himself  to  have  been  pre 
sent  at  a  scene,  which  he  has  prob 
ably  heard  inaccurately  described  by 
others.  In  my  note  taken  on  the 
very  day,  in  which  I  am  confident  I 
marked  every  thing  material  that 
passed,  no  mention  is  made  of  this 
gentleman;  and  I  am  sure,  that  I 
should  not  have  omitted  one  so  well 
known  in  the  literary  world.'  Life, 
i.  391,  n.  4. 

Boswell's  account  is  as  follows : — 
'  Mr.  Davies  mentioned  my  name, 
and  respectfully  introduced  me  to 
him.  I  was  much  agitated ;  and 
recollecting  his  prejudice  against  the 
Scotch,  of  which  I  had  heard  much, 
I  said  to  Davies,  "  Don't  tell  where 


I  come  from." — "From  Scotland," 
cried  Davies  roguishly.  "  Mr.  John 
son,  (said  I)  I  do  indeed  come  from 
Scotland,  but  I  cannot  help  it."  .... 
He  retorted,  "That,  Sir,  I  find  is 
what  a  very  great  many  of  your 
countrymen  cannot  help." ' 

The  President  of  St.  John's  College, 
Oxford,  remembers  a  London  mer 
chant  named  Lindsey,  who,  on  being 
introduced  to  Johnson,  told  him  that 
he  came  from  Scotland.  '  There  is 
no  need  to  tell  me  that,'  was  the  reply. 

2  Life,  v.  61. 

3  By  '  the  Dissenters  of  Scotland ' 
Murphy  means  not  the  Episcopalians 
nor   the    Roman  Catholics,  but   the 
members  of  the  Established  Church. 
Johnson    was   intolerant   enough  to 
refuse  to  attend  the  parish-church  at 
Auchinleck.      /£.   v.   384.      Of    Dr. 
Robertson    he    said:— 'I    will  hear 
him  if  he  will  get  up  into  a  tree  and 
preach  ;  but  I  will  not  give  a  sanction 
by  my  presence   to   a   Presbyterian 
assembly.'       /<$.    v.    121.       For    an 

and 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  429 

and  the  Separatists  of  England.  To  the  former  he  imputed  no 
disaffection,  no  want  of  loyalty.  Their  soldiers  and  their  officers 
had  shed  their  blood  with  zeal  and  courage  in  the  service  of 
Great  Britain  ;  and  the  people,  he  used  to  say,  were  content  with 
their  own  established  modes  of  worship,  without  wishing,  in  the 
present  age,  to  give  any  disturbance  to  the  Church  of  England. 
This  he  was  at  all  times  ready  to  admit ;  and  therefore  declared, 
that  whenever  he  found  a  Scotchman  to  whom  an  Englishman 
was  as  a  Scotchman,  that  Scotchman  should  be  as  an  Englishman 
to  him  *.  In  this,  surely,  there  was  no  rancour,  no  malevolence. 
The  Dissenters  on  this  side  the  Tweed  appeared  to  him  in  a 
different  light.  Their  religion,  he  frequently  said,  was  too 
worldly,  too  political,  too  restless  and  ambitious.  The  doctrine 
of  cashiering  kings,  and  erecting  on  the  ruins  of  the  constitution 
a  new  form  of  government,  which  lately  issued  from  their 
pulpits 2,  he  always  thought  was.  under  a  calm  disguise,  the 
principle  that  lay  lurking  in  their  hearts.  He  knew  that  a  wild 
democracy  had  overturned  King,  Lords,  and  Commons  ;  and 
that  a  set  of  Republican  Fanatics,  who  would  not  bow  at  the 
name  of  JESUS,  had  taken  possession  of  all  the  livings  and  all 
the  parishes  in  the  kingdom  3.  That  those  scenes  of  horror 
might  never  be  renewed,  was  the  ardent  wish  of  Dr.  Johnson ; 
and  though  he  apprehended  no  danger  from  Scotland,  it  is  prob 
able  that  his  dislike  of  Calvinism  mingled  sometimes  with  his 
reflections  on  the  natives  of  that  country.  The  association  of 
ideas  could  not  be  easily  broken ;  but  it  is  well  known  that  he 
loved  and  respected  many  gentlemen  from  that  part  of  the 
island.  Dr.  Robertson's  History  of  Scotland 4,  and  Dr.  Beattie's 

Englishman    to   give   a   sanction   to  of  the  men  of  the  Commonwealth. 

the  Established  Church  of  another         4  'Thinking  that  I  now  had  him 

country  is  absurd  enough.  in  a  corner,  and  being  solicitous  for 

1  Life,  ii.  306.  the  literary  fame  of  my  country,  I 

3  'The    ceremony    of    cashiering  pressed  him  for  his  opinion  on  the 

kings  of  which  these  gentlemen  talk  merit  of  Dr.  Robertson's  History  of 

so  much  at  their  ease  can  rarely,  if  Scotland.     But,  to  my  surprize,  he 

ever,   be   performed    without   force.'  escaped.— "  Sir,    I    love    Robertson, 

Burke's  Works,  ed.  1 808,  v.  73.     It  and  I  won't  talk  of  his  book."  '    Life, 

was  a  sermon  preached  by  Dr.  Price  ii.  53.     See  also  ib.  ii.  236,  where  he 

that  Burke  attacked.    Ib.  p.  40.  attacks  '  the  verbiage  of  Robertson ' 

3  Apparently  Murphy  is  speaking  and  calls  his  History  a  romance. 

Essays, 


430  Essay  on 


Essays x,  were  subjects  of  his  constant  praise.  Mr.  Boswell, 
Dr.  Rose  of  Chiswick,  Andrew  Millar,  Mr.  Hamilton  the  printer, 
and  the  late  Mr.  Strahan,  were  among  his  most  intimate  friends 2. 
Many  others  might  be  added  to  the  list.  He  scorned  to  enter 
Scotland  as  a  spy 3 ;  though  Hawkins,  his  biographer,  and  the 
professing  defender  of  his  fame,  allowed  himself  leave  to  repre 
sent  him  in  that  ignoble  character.  He  went  into  Scotland  to 
survey  men  and  manners 4.  Antiquities,  fossils,  and  minerals, 
were  not  within  his  province.  He  did  not  visit  that  country  to 
settle  the  station  of  Roman  camps,  or  the  spot  where  Galgacus 
fought  the  last  battle  for  public  liberty5.  The  people,  their 
customs,  and  the  progress  of  literature,  were  his  objects.  The 
civilities  which  he  received  in  the  course  of  his  tour  have  been 
repaid  with  grateful  acknowledgement,  and,  generally,  with  great 
elegance  of  expression 6.  His  crime  is,  that  he  found  the  country 
bare  of  trees,  and  he  has  stated  the  fact.  This,  Mr.  Boswell,  in 
his  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  has  told  us,  was  resented  by  his 
countrymen  with  anger  inflamed  to  rancour  ;  but  he  admits  that 
there  are  few  trees  on  the  east  side  of  Scotland 7.  Mr.  Pennant, 
in  his  Tour,  says,  that  in  some  parts  of  the  eastern  side  of  the 
country,  he  saw  several  large  plantations  of  pine  planted  by 
gentlemen  near  their  seats ;  and  in  this  respect  such  a  laudable 
spirit  prevails,  that,  in  another  half  century,  it  never  shall  be 
said,  '  To  spy  the  nakedness  of  the  land  are  you  come 8.'  Johnson 

1  Of  Beattie's  Essay  on  Truth  he  rather  as  a  spy  than  a  traveller,  and 
wrote: — 'It  is,  I  believe,  every  day  might  have  said  to  him — "To  dis- 
more  liked  ;   at  least  I  like  it  more  cover  [see]  the  nakedness  of  the  land 
as   I  look  more  upon  it.'     Life,  ii.  are  ye  [ye  are]  come.     [Genesis,  xlii. 
202.  12]."' 

2  Ib.  ii.  121,  306.  4  Life,  v.  112. 

Percy    said    that    'Johnson's    in-         5  Tacitus,  Agricola,  c.  29.     It  was 

vectives  against  Scotland  in  common  left  for  Jonathan  Oldbuck  to  prove 

conversation  were  more  in  pleasantry  that  it  was  on  the  Kaim  of  Kinprunes 

and  sport  than  real  and  malignant ;  that   this   battle    was    fought.      The 

for  no   man   was    more   visited    by  Antiquary,  c.  4. 
natives   of    that   country,   nor    were         6  Life,  ii.  303. 
there  any  for  whom  he  had  a  greater         7  Ib.  ii.  301,  304,  311  ;  v.  69,  75. 
esteem.'      Anderson's  Johnson,   ed.          8  Sir  A.  Gordon,   describing  how 

1815,  p.  285.  his  father,  the  Earl  of  Aberdeen,  on 

3  The   Scotch,   Hawkins   says   (p.  attaining  his  majority  in  1805,  went 
486),  *  had  reason  to  look  on  Johnson  down  to  his  ancestral  home,  says : — 

could 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


could  not  wait  for  that  half  century,  and  therefore  mentioned 
things  as  he  found  them.  If  in  any  thing  he  has  been  mistaken, 
he  has  made  a  fair  apology  in  the  last  paragraph  of  his  book, 
avowing  with  candour,  'That  he  may  have  been  surprized  by 
modes  of  life,  and  appearances  of  nature,  that  are  familiar  to 
men  of  wider  survey,  and  more  varied  conversation.  Novelty 
and  ignorance  must  always  be  reciprocal ;  and  he  is  conscious 
that  his  thoughts  *  on  national  manners  are  the  thoughts  of  one, 
who  has  seen  but  little.' 

The  Poems  of  Ossian  made  a  part  of  Johnson's  enquiry  during 
his  residence  in  Scotland  and  the  Hebrides.  On  his  return  to 
England,  November  1773,  a  storm  seemed  to  be  gathering  over 
his  head  ;  but  the  cloud  never  burst,  and  the  thunder  never 
fell.  Ossian,  it  is  well  known,  was  presented  to  the  publick  as 
a  translation  from  the  Earse ;  but  that  this  was  a  fraud,  Johnson 
declared  without  hesitation  2.  *  The  Earsej  he  says,  '  was  always 
oral  only,  and  never  a  written  language.  The  Welch  and  the 
Irish  were  more  cultivated.  In  Earse  there  was  not  in  the  world 


'  He  had  not  revisited  Aberdeenshire 
since  he  left  it  as  a  child  of  eight 
years  of  age,  with  a  child's  illusions  as 
to  the  surroundings  of  a  home  which 
has  been  his  world.  He  was  wholly 
unprepared  for  the  rough  awakening 
which  awaited  him,  and  on  the  rare 
occasions  on  which  he  could  be 
induced  to  speak  of  his  own  early 
days,  he  dwelt  with  great  force  on 
the  sensations  he  experienced  when 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  reality 
before  him.  The  backward  condition 
of  agriculture,  the  miserable  dwell 
ings  and  half-savage  habits  of  the 
people,  the  ignorance  and  coarseness 
of  the  gentry,  the  inclemency  of  the 
climate,  the  ugliness  and  monotony 
of  the  country  —  bare,  undulating, 
and  treeless— were  all  very  unlike 
his  dreams  and  filled  him  with 
dismay.'  The  Earl  of  Aberdeen, 
1893,  p.  II. 


1  '  I  cannot  but  be  conscious  that 
my  thoughts,'  &c. 

2  Life,  ii.  302,  309,  347,  383. 

The  following  note  is  in  Anderson's 
Johnson,  ed.  1815,  p.  342: — 'The 
Bishop  of  Dromore  (Dr.  Percy)  has 
allowed  Dr.  Anderson  to  declare, 
that  he  repeatedly  received  the  most 
positive  assurances  from  Sir  John 
Elliot,  the  confidential  friend  of  Mac- 
pherson,  that  all  the  poems  published 
by  him  as  translations  of  Ossian 
were  entirely  of  his  own  composition.' 

Elliot  was  a  physician  of  whom 
Walpole  wrote  on  Feb.  5,  1785 
(Letters,  viii.  542):— He  had  hap 
pened  to  attend  my  housemaid,  and 
would  not  take  a  fee;  to  prevail,  I 
pretended  to  talk  on  my  own  gout, 
and  he  was  so  tractable,  and  suffered 
me  to  prescribe  to  him  what  he  should 
prescribe  to  me  .  .  .  that  I  continued 
to  see  him.' 

a  single 


432  Essay  on 


a  single  manuscript  a  hundred  years  old.  Martin,  who  in  the 
last  century  published  an  Account  of  the  Western  Islands,  men 
tions  Irish,  but  never  Earse  manuscripts,  to  be  found  in  the 
islands  in  his  time.  The  bards  could  not  read  ;  if  they  could, 
they  might  probably  have  written.  But  the  bard  was  a  barbarian 
among  barbarians,  and,  knowing  nothing  himself,  lived  with 
others  that  knew  no  more.  If  there  is  a  manuscript  from  which 
the  translation  was  made,  in  what  age  was  it  written,  and  where 
is  it  ?  If  it  was  collected  from  oral  recitation,  it  could  only  be 
in  detached  parts  and  scattered  fragments  :  the  whole  is  too  long 
to  be  remembered  V  Who  put  it  together  in  its  present  form  ? 
For  these,  and  such  like  reasons,  Johnson  calls  the  whole  an 
imposture.  He  adds,  '  The  editor,  or  author,  never  could  shew 
the  original,  nor  can  it  be  shewn  by  any  other.  To  revenge 
reasonable  incredulity,  by  refusing  evidence,  is  a  degree  of  in 
solence  with  which  the  world  is  not  yet  acquainted  ;  and  stubborn 
audacity  is  the  last  refuge  of  guilt 2.'  This  reasoning  carries  with 
it  great  weight.  It  roused  the  resentment  of  Mr.  Macpherson. 
He  sent  a  threatening  letter  to  the  author;  and  Johnson  answered 
him  in  the  rough  phrase  of  stern  defiance3.  The  two  heroes 
frowned  at  a  distance,  but  never  came  to  action. 

In  the  year  1777.  the  misfortunes  of  Dr.  Dodd  excited  his 
compassion 4.  He  wrote  a  speech  for  that  unhappy  man,  when 
called  up  to  receive  judgement  of  death  5 ;  besides  two  petitions, 
one  to  the  King,  and  another  to  the  Queen 6 ;  and  a  sermon  to 
be  preached  by  Dodd  to  the  convicts  in  Newgate7.  It  may 
appear  trifling  to  add,  that  about  the  same  time  he  wrote  a 
prologue  to  the  comedy  of  A  Word  to  the  Wise,  written  by 
Hugh  Kelly 8.  The  play,  some  years  before,  had  been  damned 
by  a  party  on  the  first  night.  It  was  revived  for  the  benefit 
of  the  author's  widow.  Mrs.  Piozzi  relates,  that  when  Johnson 

1  These  extracts  are  an  abridg-  7  Ib.  p.  167.  Johnson  wrote  to 

ment  of  Johnson's  Works,  ix.  112-  Mrs.  Thrale  from  Lichfield  on  Aug.  9, 

115.  1777  : — '  Lucy  [Porter]  said,  "When 

*  Ib.  p.  115.  I  read   Dr.   Dodd's   sermon   to  the 

3  Life,  ii.  297.  prisoners,  I  said,  Dr.  Johnson  could 

4  Ib.  iii.  139-148.  5  Ib.  p.  141.       not  make  a  better."  '     Letters,  ii.  18. 
6  Ib.  p.  142.  8  Life,  iii.  113. 

was 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  433 

was  rallied  for  these  exertions,  so  close  to  one  another,  his 
answer  was,  When  they  come  to  me  with  a  dying  Parson,  and 
a  dead  Stay-maker ;  what  can  a  man  do x  ?  We  come  now  to 
the  last  of  his  literary  labours.  At  the  request  of  the  Booksellers 
he  undertook  the  Lives  of  the  Poets.  The  first  publication  was 
in  1779,  and  the  whole  was  compleated  in  1781 2.  In  a  memo 
randum  of  that  year  he  says,  some  time  in  March  he  finished  the 
Lives  of  the  Poets,  which  he  wrote  in  his  usual  way,  dilatorily 
and  hastily,  unwilling  to  work,  yet  working  with  vigour  and 
haste3.  In  another  place,  he  hopes  they  are  written  in  such 
a  manner  as  may  tend  to  the  promotion  of  piety 4.  That  the 
history  of  so  many  men,  who,  in  their  different  degrees,  made 
themselves  conspicuous  in  their  time,  was  not  written  recently 
after  their  deaths,  seems  to  be  an  omission  that  does  no  honour 
to  the  Republic  of  Letters.  Their  contemporaries  in  general 
looked  on  with  calm  indifference,  and  suffered  Wit  and  Genius 
to  vanish  out  of  the  world  in  total  silence,  unregarded,  and  un- 
lamented.  Was  there  no  friend  to  pay  the  tribute  of  a  tear? 
No  just  observer  of  life,  to  record  the  virtues  of  the  deceased  ? 
Was  even  Envy  silent  ?  It  seemed  to  have  been  agreed,  that  if 
an  author's  works  survived,  the  history  of  the  man  was  to  give 
no  moral  lesson  to  after-ages.  If  tradition  told  us  that  BEN 
JONSON  went  to  the  Devil  Tavern 5 ;  that  SHAKSPEARE  stole 
deer,  and  held  the  stirrup  at  playhouse  doors 6 ;  that  DRYDEN 


1  Ante,  p.  181.  eighty-six  then  —  no—  I'll  even  keep 

3  Life,  iii.  109,  370  ;  iv.  34.  the  reversion  as  a  nest-egg  for  old 

3  Ante,   p.   96.      The    author    of  age."  ' 

The  Life  of  Johnson,  published  by  4  Ante,  p.  88. 

Kearsley  in  1785,  says  (p.  65),  that  5  Life,  iv.  254,  n.  4. 

'the  booksellers  on  going  to  press  'And  each  true  Briton  is  to  Ben 

with  the  third  edition  of  the  Lives  so  civil, 

offered  Johnson  ^200  for  his  rever-  He  swears  the  Muses  met  him  at 

sion  of  the  copyhold  ;  but  the  Doc-  the  Devil.' 

tor,  meeting  the  offer  with  the  same  Pope,    Imitations    of   Horace, 

generosity,  after  pausing  some  time  Epis.  ii.  i.  41. 

replied,  "Why,  let  me  see—  fourteen  6  Johnson's  Shakespeare,  ed.  1765, 

years1  hence,   why  I   shall  be   but  Introduction,  pp.  147,  172. 


1  '  The  term  of  years  allowed  by  the  Act  of  Queen  Anne  for  an  author's  resumption 
of  his  works  not  exclusively  disposed  of.' 

VOL.  I.  F  f  frequented 


434  Essay  on 


frequented  Button's  Coffee-house l ;  curiosity  was  lulled  asleep, 
^and  Biography  forgot  the  best  part  of  her  function,  which  is  to 
/instruct   mankind  by  examples  taken  from   the  school  of  life. 
This  task  remained  for  Dr.  Johnson,  when  years  had  rolled  away ; 
when  the  channels  of  information  were,  for  the  most  part,  choaked 
up,  and  little  remained  besides  doubtful  anecdote,  uncertain  tra 
dition,  and  vague  report. 

4  Nunc  situs  informis  premit  et  deserta  VetustasV 

The  value  of  Biography  has  been  better  understood  in  other 
ages,  and  in  other  countries.  Tacitus  informs  us,  that  to  record 
the  lives  and  characters  of  illustrious  men  was  the  practice  of 
the  Roman  authors,  in  the  early  periods  of  the  Republic 3.  In 
France  the  example  has  been  followed.  Fontenelle,  D'Alembert, 
and  Monsieur  Thomas* \  have  left  models  in  this  kind  of  com 
position.  They  have  embalmed  the  dead  5.  But  it  is  true,  that 
they  had  incitements  and  advantages,  even  at  a  distant  day, 
which  could  not,  by  any  diligence,  be  obtained  by  Dr.  Johnson. 
The  wits  of  France  had  ample  materials.  They  lived  in  a  nation 
of  critics,  who  had  at  heart  the  honour  done  to  their  country  by 
their  Poets,  their  Heroes,  and  their  Philosophers.  They  had, 
besides,  an  Academy  of  Belles  Lettres,  where  Genius  was  culti 
vated,  refined,  and  encouraged.  They  had  the  tracts,  the  essays, 
and  dissertations,  which  remain  in  the  memories 6  of  the  Academy, 
and  they  had  the  speeches  of  the  several  members,  delivered  at 
their  first  admission  to  a  seat  in  that  learned  Assembly.  In 
those  speeches  the  new  Academician  did  ample  justice  to  the 

1  It  was  at  Will's  coffee-house  that  J'aime   mieux   lire,  je  vous  jure,  le 
Dryden  'had  a  particular  chair  for  panegyriste  que  le  heros.     C'est  un 
himself.'     Life,  iii.  71  ;   Works,  vii.  homme   d'un    rare    merite    que    ce 
300.    Button  opened  his  coffee-house  Thomas  ;  et  ni  Thomas  d'Aquin,  ni 
after  Dryden's  time,  under  the  pa-  Thomas    Didyme,    ni    Thomas    de 
tronage  of  Addison.     Ib.  p.  449.  Cantorbery,    n'approchent    de    lui.' 

2  Though   now  deform'd  by  dust  QLuvres  de  Voltaire,  1821,  liii.  171. 

and  cover'd  o'er  with  mould.'  s  *  Those  tears  eternal  that  embalm 

FRANCIS.    HORACE,  Epis.  ii.  2. 118.  the  dead.' 

3  Agricola,  c.  I.  Pope,  Epistle  to  Mr.Jervas. 

1    Voltaire    wrote    on    Sept.    23,  6  Apparently    Murphy's    transla- 

1765: — 'Je  viens  de  lire  le  sublime       tion  of  Memoires,   unless  memories 
£loge  de  Descartes,  par  M.  Thomas.       is  a  misprint  for  memoirs. 

memory 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  435 

memory  of  his  predecessor ;  and  though  his  harangue  was  deco 
rated  with  the  colours  of  eloquence,  and  was,  for  that  reason, 
called  panegyric,  yet  being  pronounced  before  qualified  judges, 
who  knew  the  talents,  the  conduct,  and  morals  of  the  deceased, 
the  speaker  could  not,  with  propriety,  wander  into  the  regions 
of  fiction.  The  truth  was  known,  before  it  was  adorned  \  The 
Academy  saw  the  marble,  before  the  artist  polished  it.  But  this 
country  has  had  no  Academy  of  Literature.  The  public  mind, 
for  centuries,  has  been  engrossed  by  party  and  faction ;  by  the 
madness  of  many  for  the  gain  of  a  few* ;  by  civil  wars,  religious 
dissentions,  trade  and  commerce,  and  the  arts  of  accumulating 
wealth.  Amidst  such  attentions,  who  can  wonder  that  cold 
praise  has  been  often  the  only  reward  of  merit  ?  In  this  country 
Doctor  Nathaniel  Hodges,  who,  like  the  good  bishop  of  Mar 
seilles,  drew  purer  breath  3  amidst  the  contagion  of  the  plague  in 
London,  and,  during  the  whole  time,  continued  in  the  city, 
administering  medical  assistance,  was  suffered,  as  Johnson  used 
to  relate  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  die  for  debt  in  a  gaol 4.  In 
this  country,  the  man  who  brought  the  New  River  to  London 
was  ruined  by  that  noble  project 5 ;  and  in  this  country  Otway 
died  for  want  on  Tower  Hill6;  Butler,  the  great  author  of 
Hudibras,  whose  name  can  only  die  with  the  English  language, 

1  Hannah  More  in  1786  read  'an  Pope,  Essay  on  Man,  iv.  107. 
Eloge  on  the  humility  of  the  Virgin  '  In  the  plague  of  Marseilles,  in  the 
Mary, '  delivered    at    the   Academic  year  1720,  the  Bishop  distinguished 
Frangaise  by  one  of  the  Quarante.  himself  by  his  zeal  and  activity,  being 
Mons.   Tourreuil   informs    her   [the  the  pastor,   the  physician,  and  the 
Virgin]    that    her    humility  is    still  magistrate  of  his   flock  whilst  that 
further  rewarded,  by  her  having  the  horrid   calamity  prevailed.'      NOTE 
honour  of  being  made  the  subject  BY  WARTON. 

for  the  prize  of  eloquence  by  the  most  4  Life,  ii.  341,  n.  3. 

enlightened  Academy  in  the  world.'  5  '  Myddelton,  though  never  a  rich 

More's  Memoirs,  ii.  44.  man,  and  much  impoverished  by  his 

2  '  Party  is  the  madness  of  many  work  on  the  New  River,  was  enabled 
for  the  gain  of  a  few.'  Pope,  Thoughts  to    end  his    days   in    comfort,    and 
on  Various  Subjects.  Warton's  Pope's  leave  a  respectable  patrimony  to  his 
Works,  1822,  vi.  381.  children.'   Colonel  Myddelton,  whom 

3  'Why    drew    Marseille's    good       Johnson  visited  at  Gwaynynog (£*/<?, 

bishop  purer  breath  v.  443),  was  of  the  same  family.  Diet. 

When    nature    sicken'd,    and       Nat.  B:og. 

each  gale  was  death?'  6  Johnson's  Works,  vii.  176. 

F  f  a  was 


436  Essay  on 


was  left  to  languish  in  poverty,  the  particulars  of  his  life  almost 
unknown,  and  scarce  a  vestige  of  him  left  except  his  immortal 
poem  x.  Had  there  been  an  Academy  of  Literature,  the  lives, 
at  least,  of  those  celebrated  persons  would  have  been  written  for 
the  benefit  of  posterity.  Swift,  it  seems,  had  the  idea  of  such  an 
institution,  and  proposed  it  to  Lord  Oxford 2 ;  but  Whig  and 
Tory  were  more  important  objects.  It  is  needless  to  dissemble, 
that  Dr.  Johnson,  in  the  Life  of  Roscommon,  talks  of  the  inutility 
of  such  a  project.  *  In  this  country/  he  says,  '  an  Academy 
could  be  expected  to  do  but  little.  If  an  academician's  place 
were  profitable,  it  would  be  given  by  interest ;  if  attendance 
were  gratuitous,  it  would  be  rarely  paid,  and  no  man  would 
endure  the  least  disgust.  Unanimity  is  impossible,  and  debate 
would  separate  the  assembly.'  To  this  it  may  be  sufficient  to 
answer,  that  the  Royal  Society  has  not  been  dissolved  by  sullen 
disgust ;  and  the  modern  Academy  at  Somerset-house  has  already 
performed  much,  and  promises  more  3.  Unanimity  is  not  neces 
sary  to  such  an  assembly.  On  the  contrary,  by  difference  of 
opinion,  and  collision  of  sentiment,  the  cause  of  Literature  would 
thrive  and  flourish.  The  true  principles  of  criticism,  the  secret 
of  fine  writing,  the  investigation  of  antiquities,  and  other  interest 
ing  subjects,  might  occasion  a  clash  of  opinions  ;  but  in  that  con 
tention  Truth  would  receive  illustration,  and  the  essays  of  the 
several  members  would  supply  the  Memoirs  of  the  Academy. 
But,  says  Dr.  Johnson, '  suppose  the  philological  decree  made  and 
promulgated,  what  would  be  its  authority  ?  In  absolute  govern 
ments  there  is  sometimes  a  general  reverence  paid  to  all  that 

1  '  In  this  mist  of  obscurity  passed  last  summer  of  Macaulay's  life, 
the  life  of  Butler,  a  man  whose  name  says :— '  I  remember  our  sitting  at 
can  only  perish  with  his  language.  the  window  through  the  best  part 
The  mode  and  place  of  his  education  of  an  afternoon,  looking  across  Win- 
are  unknown  ;  the  events  of  his  life  dermere,  and  drawing  up  under  his 
are  variously  related,  and  all  that  can  superintendence  a  list  of  forty  names 
be  told  with  certainty  is  that  he  was  for  an  imaginary  English  Academy.' 
poor.'  Works,  vii.  148.  Trevelyan's  Macaulay,  ed.  1877,  ii. 

*  Ib.  vii.  167 ;  viii.  202.     See  also  477. 

v.  48  ;  viii.  4,  and  Swift's  Proposal          3  The    Royal   Academy    in    1780 

for   correcting,    Q^c.,    the    English  for  the  first  time  held  its  Exhibition 

Tongue.     Works,  ed.  1803,  vi.  43.  in    Somerset    House.      Letters,    ii. 

Sir  G.  Trevelyan,  describing  the  150. 

has 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  437 

has  the  sanction  of  power,  and  the  countenance  of  greatness. 
How  little  this  is  the  state  of  our  country  needs  not  to  be  told. 
.  .  .  The  edicts  of  an  English  academy  would  probably  be  read 
by  many,  only  that  they  might  be  sure  to  disobey  them.  .  .  . 
The  present  manners  of  the  nation  would  deride  authority,  and 
therefore  nothing  is  left  but  that  every  writer  should  criticize 
himself1.'  This  surely  is  not  conclusive.  It  is  by  the  standard 
of  the  best  writers  that  every  man  settles  for  himself  his  plan  of 
legitimate  composition ;  and  since  the  authority  of  superior 
genius  is  acknowledged,  that  authority,  which  the  individual 
obtains,  would  not  be  lessened  by  an  association  with  others  of 
distinguished  ability.  It  may,  therefore,  be  inferred,  that  an 
Academy  of  Literature  would  be  an  establishment  highly  useful, 
and  an  honour  to  Literature.  In  such  an  institution  profitable 
places  would  not  be  wanted.  Vatis  avarus  hand  facile  est 
animus 2 ;  and  the  minister,  who  shall  find  leisure  from  party 
and  faction,  to  carry  such  a  scheme  into  execution,  will,  in  all 
probability,  be  respected  by  posterity  as  the  Maecenas  of 
letters 3. 

We  now  take  leave  of  Dr.  Johnson  as  an  author.  Four  volumes 
of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets  were  published  in  I7784,  and  the 
work  was  completed  in  1781.  Should  Biography  fall  again  into 

1  Works9\\\.\bj.   'JOHNSON.  Sub-  Pope,    Imitations    of   Horace,     1. 

ordination  is  sadly  broken  down  in  192. 

this  age.    No  man  now  has  the  same  3  Macaulay  recorded  on  Dec.  10, 

authority   which    his    father    had—  1850 :— '  I  met  Sir  Bulwer   Lytton. 

except  a  gaoler.     No  master  has  it  He  is  anxious  about  some  scheme 

over  his  servants  ;   it  is  diminished  for  some  association  of  literary  men. 

in  our  colleges ;   nay  in  our  Gram-  I  detest  all  such  associations.  I  hate 

mar-schools.'    Life,  iii.  262.  the  notion    of   gregarious    authors. 

It  is  strange  that  Matthew  Arnold  The  less  we  have  to  do  with  each 

in  his  Literary  Influence  of  A  cade-  other  the  better.'     Trevelyan's  Mac- 

mies  (Essays  in  Criticism,  ed.  1889,  aulay,  ed.  1877,  ii.  289. 

p.  42),  nowhere  mentions  Johnson's  4   Murphy    had    correctly    stated 

opinion.  (ante,  p.  433)  that  theY  were   PUD' 

'  Vatis  avarus  lished   in   1779.     Hawkins,  writing 

Non  temere  est  animus.'  but  six  years  after  the  publication  of 

Horace,  Ept's.  ii.  I.  119.  the  last  six  volumes  of  the  Lives, 

'  Rarely  avarice  taints  the  tuneful  says  that  '  they  came  abroad  in  1778 

mind.'  in  ten  small  volumes.'   p.  534. 

disuse, 


438  Essay  on 


disuse,  there  will  not  always  be  a  Johnson  to  look  back  through 
a  century,  and  give  a  body  of  critical  and  moral  instruction. 
In  April  1781,  he  lost  his  friend  Mr.  Thrale.  His  own  words,  in 
his  diary,  will  best  tell  that  melancholy  event x.  'On  Wednesday 
the  nth  of  April,  was  buried  my  dear  friend  Thrale,  who  died 
on  Wednesday  the  4th,  and  with  him  were  buried  many  of  my 
hopes  and  pleasures.  About  five,  I  think,  on  Wednesday  morn 
ing  he  expired.  I  felt  almost  the  last  flutter  of  his  pulse,  and 
looked  for  the  last  time  upon  the  face,  that  for  fifteen  years  had 
never  been  turned  upon  me  but  with  respect  and  benignity. 
Farewel :  may  God,  that  delighteth  in  mercy,  have  had  mercy 
on  thee.  I  had  constantly  prayed  for  him  [some  time]  before 
his  death.  The  decease  of  him,  from  whose  friendship  I  had 
obtained  many  opportunities  of  amusement,  and  to  whom  I  turned 
my  thoughts  as  to  a  refuge  from  misfortunes,  has  left  me  heavy. 
But  my  business  is  with  myself.'  From  the  close  of  his  last 
work,  the  malady,  that  persecuted  him  through  life,  came  upon 
him  with  alarming  severity,  and  his  constitution  declined  apace. 
In  1783  his  old  friend  Levet  expired  without  warning,  and  with 
out  a  groan  2.  Events  like  these  reminded  Johnson  of  his  own 
mortality.  He  continued  his  visits  to  Mrs.  Thrale  at  Streatham, 
to  the  7th  day  of  October,  1782,  when  having  first  composed 
a  prayer  for  the  happiness  of  a  family,  with  whom  he  had  for 
many  years  enjoyed  the  pleasures  and  comforts  of  life,  he  re 
moved  to  his  own  house  in  town.  He  says  he  was  up  early  in 
the  morning,  and  read  fortuitously  in  the  Gospel  [gospels],  which 
was  his  parting  use  of  the  library 3.  The  merit  of  the  family 
is  manifested  by  the  sense  he  had  of  it,  and  we  see  his  heart 
overflowing  with  gratitude.  He  leaves  the  place  with  regret,  and 
casts  a  lingering  look  behind*. 

The  few  remaining  occurrences  may  be  soon  dispatched.  In 
the  month  of  June,  1783,  Johnson  had  a  paralytic  stroke,  which 
affected  his  speech  only5.  He  wrote  to  Dr.  Taylor  of  West 
minster  ;  and  to  his  friend  Mr.  Allen,  the  printer,  who  lived  at 

1  Life,  iv.  84.     Ante,  p.  96.  4  '  Nor  cast  one  longing  lingering 

a  Life,  iv.  137.    Ante,  p.  102.  look  behind.'     Gray's  Elegy,  1.  88. 

3  Ib.  iv.  158.    Ante,  p.  109.  5  Ante,  p.  in. 

the 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  439 

the  next  door.  Dr.  Brocklesby  arrived  in  a  short  time,  and  by 
his  care,  and  that  of  Dr.  Heberden,  Johnson  soon  recovered. 
During  his  illness  the  writer  of  this  narrative  visited  him,  and 
found  him  reading  Dr.  Watson's  Chemistry x.  Articulating  with 
difficulty,  he  said,  {  From  this  book,  he  who  knows  nothing  may 
learn  a  great  deal ;  and  he  who  knows,  will  be  pleased  to  find 
his  knowledge  recalled  to  his  mind  in  a  manner  highly  pleasing.' 
In  the  month  of  August  he  set  out  for  Lichfield,  on  a  visit  to 
Mrs.  Lucy  Porter,  the  daughter  of  his  wife  by  her  first  husband  ; 
and  in  his  way  back  paid  his  respects  to  Dr.  Adams  at  Oxford 2. 
Mrs.  Williams  died  at  his  house  in  Bolt-court  in  the  month  of 
September,  during  his  absence3.  This  was  another  shock  to 
a  mind  like  his,  ever  agitated  by  the  thoughts  of  futurity.  The 
contemplation  of  his  own  approaching  end  was  constantly  before 
his  eyes;  and  the  prospect  of  death,  he  declared,  was  terrible4. 
For  many  years,  when  he  was  not  disposed  to  enter  into  the 
conversation  going  forward,  whoever  sat  near  his  chair,  might 
hear  him  repeating,  from  Shakspeare, 

Ay,  but  to  die  and  go  we  know  not  where ; 
To  lie  in  cold  obstruction  and  to  rot ; 
This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 
A  kneaded  clod,  and  the  delighted  spirit 
To  bathe  in  fiery  floods5. 

And  from  Milton, 

Who  would  lose, 
For  fear  of  pain,  this  intellectual  being6? 

1  '  Murphy  is  just  gone  from  me ;       when  she  died.    Life,  iv.  235. 

he  visits  me  very  kindly.'    Letters,  ii.  4  16.  ii.  106,  298  ;  Letters,  ii.  369, 

313.     For  Dr.  Watson  see  Life,  iv.  380. 

118  ;  Letters,  i.  183,  *.  I.  5  Measure  for  Measure,   Act  m. 

2  Johnson  did  not  visit  Lichfield  or  sc.  i. 

Oxford  this  year.  Murphy  has  been  '  Though  full  of  pain,  £c.  -Pa- 
misled,  perhaps,  by  an  error  on  radise  Lost,  ii.  146. 
Mrs.  Thrale's  part,  who  misdates  by  'Talking  to  himself  was,  indeed, 
a  year  one  of  Johnson's  letters  writ-  one  of  Johnson's  singularities  ever 
ten  at  Oxford,  and  fabricates  her  since  I  knew  him.  I  was  certain 
answer  to  include  both  it  and  one  that  he  was  frequently  uttering  pious 
written  twelve  months  and  two  days  ejaculations;  for  fragments  of  the 
later.  Letters,  ii.  257,  *.  2,  258,  *.  3.  Lord's  Prayer  have  been  distinctly 

3  He  was  at  Heale,  near  Salisbury,  overheard.'    Life,  i.  483. 

By 


440 


Essay  on 


By  the  death  of  Mrs.  Williams  he  was  left  in  a  state  of  desti 
tution,  with  nobody  but  Frank,  his  black  servant,  to  sooth  his 
anxious  moments1.  In  November  1783,  he  was  swelled  from 
head  to  foot  with  a  dropsy 2.  Dr.  Brocklesby,  with  that  benevo 
lence  with  which  he  always  assists  his  friends,  paid  his  visits 
with  assiduity.  The  medicines  prescribed  were  so  efficacious, 
that  in  a  few  days,  Johnson,  while  he  was  offering  up  his  prayers, 
was  suddenly  obliged  to  rise,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  dis 
charged  twenty  pints  of  water 3. 

Johnson,  being  eased  of  his  dropsy,  began  to  entertain  hopes 
that  the  vigour  of  his  constitution  was  not  entirely  broken.  For 
the  sake  of  conversing  with  his  friends,  he  established  a  conversa 
tion  club,  to  meet  on  every  Wednesday  evening ;  and,  to  serve 
a  man  whom  he  had  known  in  Mr.  Thrale's  household  for 
many  years,  the  place  was  fixed  at  his  house  in  Essex  street  near 
the  Temple4.  To  answer  the  malignant  remarks  of  Sir  John 
Hawkins  on  this  subject,  were  a  wretched  waste  of  time.  Pro 
fessing  to  be  Johnson's  friend,  that  biographer  has  raised  more 
objections  to  his  character,  than  all  the  enemies  of  that  excellent 
man s.  Sir  John  had  a  root  of  bitterness  that  put  rancours  in  the 


1  '  Last  month  died  Mrs.  Williams, 
who  had  been  to  me  for  thirty  years 
in  the  place  of  a  sister ;  her  know 
ledge  was  great  and   her  conversa 
tion  pleasing.     I  now  live  in  cheer 
less  solitude.'     Letters,  ii.  348. 

2  Life,  iv.  255. 

3  It  was  not  till  February  19  that 
Johnson  had  this  relief.    Letters,  ii. 
384 ;   Life,  iv.  261,  271  ;    Hawkins, 
p.  565. 

4  Murphy  was   a  member  of  the 
Essex  Head  Club ;  yet  his  account 
is  inaccurate.     'We  meet  thrice  a 
week,'  wrote  Johnson.     Life,  iv.  254. 
In  the  Rules  it  is   laid  down  that 
'  the  meetings  shall  be  on  the  Mon 
day,    Thursday,    and    Saturday    of 
every  week ;  but  in  the  week  before 
Easter  there  shall  be  no  meeting.' 
Ib.  n.  5. 


5  Hawkins  (p.  567)  thus  writes 
of  the  formation  of  the  Club : — '  I 
was  not  made  privy  to  this  his 
intention,  but  all  circumstances  con 
sidered,  it  was  no  matter  of  surprise 
to  me  when  I  heard  that  the  great 
Dr.  Johnson  had,  in  the  month  of 
December  1783,  formed  a  sixpenny 
club  at  an  ale-house  in  Essex-street, 
and  that  though  some  of  the  persons 
thereof  were  persons  of  note, 
strangers,  under  restrictions,  for  three 
pence  each  night  might  three  nights 
in  a  week  hear  him  talk  and  partake 
of  his  conversation.' 

Miss  Hawkins  (Memoirs,  i.  103) 
says : — '  Boswell  was  well  justified  in 
his  resentment  of  my  father's  desig 
nation  of  this  club  as  a  sixpenny 
club,  meeting  at  an  ale-house.  . .  . 
Honestly  speaking,  I  daresay  my 
vessel 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


441 


vessel  of  his  peace x.  Fielding,  he  says,  was  the  inventor  of  a  cant 
phrase,  Goodness  of  he  art >  which  means  little  more  than  the  virtue 
of  a  horse  or  a  dog 2.  He  should  have  known  that  kind  affections 
are  the  essence  of  virtue  ;  they  are  the  will  of  God  implanted  in 
our  nature,  to  aid  and  strengthen  moral  obligation  ;  they  incite 
to  action  ;  a  sense  of  benevolence  is  no  less  necessary  than  a  sense 
of  duty.  Good  affections  are  an  ornament  not  only  to  an  author 
but  to  his  writings.  He  who  shews  himself  upon  a  cold  scent  for 
opportunities  to  bark  and  snarl  throughout  a  volume  of  six 
hundred  pages,  may,  if  he  will,  pretend  to  moralize ;  but  GOOD 
NESS  OF  HEART,  or,  to  use  that  politer  phrase,  the  virtue  of 
a  horse  or  a  dog,  would  redound  more  to  his  honour.  But  Sir 
John  is  no  more :  our  business  is  with  Johnson.  The  members 
of  his  club  were  respectable  for  their  rank,  their  talents,  and 
their  literature 3.  They  attended  with  punctuality  till  about 
Midsummer  1 784,  when,  with  some  appearance  of  health,  Johnson 
went  into  Derbyshire,  and  thence  to  Lichfield 4.  While  he  was 
in  that  part  of  the  world,  his  friends  in  town  were  labouring  for 
his  benefit.  The  air  of  a  more  southern  climate  they  thought 
might  prolong  a  valuable  life.  But  a  pension  of  £300  a  year 
was  a  slender  fund  for  a  travelling  valetudinarian,  and  it  was  not 
then  known  that  he  had  saved  a  moderate  sum  of  money5. 
Mr.  Boswell  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  undertook  to  solicit  the 
patronage  of  the  Chancellor 6.  With  Lord  Thurlow,  while  he 
was  at  the  bar,  Johnson  was  well  acquainted.  He  was  often 
heard  to  say,  '  Thurlow  is  a  man  of  such  vigour  of  mind,  that 
I  never  knew  I  was  to  meet  him  but — I  was  going  to  say,  I  was 


father   did    not    like    being    passed 
over.' 

1  Macbeth,  Act  iii.  sc.  i.  1.  67. 

2  Hawkins,  p.  215. 

'Had  not  Thwackum  too  much 
neglected  virtue,  and  Square  re 
ligion,  in  the  composition  of  their 
several  systems,  and  had  not  both 
utterly  discarded  all  natural  good 
ness  of  heart,  they  had  never  been 
represented  as  the  objects  of  de 
rision  in  this  history.'  Tom  Jones, 
Bk.  iii.  ch.  4. 


3  Life,  iv.  254,  438. 

4  Ib.  iv.  353. 

5  He  left  at  least  .£2,000  (Ib.  iv. 
402,  n.  2) ;  but  so  little  did  he  know 
the  amount  of  his  property  that  a  few 
months  before  his  death  he  said  to 
Boswell : — '  I  have  (said  he)  about 
the  world  I  think  above  a  thousand 
pounds,  which  I  intend  shall  afford 
Frank  an  annuity  of  seventy  pounds 
a  year.'     Ib.  iv.  284. 

6  Ib.  iv.  326,  348. 

afraid, 


442  Essay  on 

afraid,  but  that  would  not  be  true,  for  I  never  was  afraid  of  any 
man  ;  but  I  never  knew  that  I  was  to  meet  Thurlow,  but  I  knew 
I  had  something  to  encounter  V  The  Chancellor  undertook  to 
recommend  Johnson's  case,  but  without  success 2.  To  protract 
if  possible  the  days  of  a  man,  whom  he  respected,  he  offered  to 
advance  the  sum  of  five  hundred  pounds  3.  Being  informed  of 
this  at  Lichfield4,  Johnson  wrote  the  following  letter. 

'  My  Lord, 

'  After  a  long  and  not  inattentive  observation  of  mankind,  the 
generosity  of  your  Lordship's  offer  raises  in  me  not  less  wonder 
than  gratitude.  Bounty,  so  liberally  bestowed,  I  should  gladly 
receive  if  my  condition  made  it  necessary ;  for  to  such  a  mind 
who  would  not  be  proud  to  own  his  obligations  ?  But  it  has 
pleased  God  to  restore  me  to  so  great  a  measure  of  health,  that 
if  I  should  now  appropriate  so  much  of  a  fortune  destined  to  do 
good,  I  could  not  escape  from  myself  the  charge  of  advancing 
a  false  claim.  My  journey  to  the  continent,  though  I  once 
thought  it  necessary,  was  never  much  encouraged  by  my  phy 
sicians  ;  and  I  was  very  desirous  that  your  Lordship  should  be 
told  of  it  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  as  an  event  very  uncertain ; 
for,  if  I  grew  much  better,  I  should  not  be  willing  ;  if  much 
worse,  not  able  to  migrate.  Your  Lordship  was  first  solicited 
without  my  knowledge  ;  but  when  I  was  told  that  you  were 
pleased  to  honour  me  with  your  patronage,  I  did  not  expect  to 
hear  of  a  refusal ;  yet,  as  I  have  had  no  long  time  to  brood 
hopes,  and  have  not  rioted  in  imaginary  opulence,  this  cold  re 
ception  has  been  scarce  a  disappointment ;  and  from  your  Lord 
ship's  kindness  I  have  received  a  benefit  which  only  men  like 


1  '  Depend  upon  it,  Sir,  it  is  when  2  Ib.  iv.  350,  n.  i. 

you  come  close  to  a  man  in  conver-  3  Ib.  iv.  348.    Horace  Wai  pole  says 

sation   that   you   discover   what   his  that  in  1770  '  the  Seals  were  valued 

real  abilities  are;  to  make  a  speech  at    ,£13,000    a    year.'     Memoirs    of 

in  a  publick  assembly  is   a  knack.  George  Iff,   iv.   45.     On    March   5, 

Now  I  honour  Thurlow,  Sir ;  Thurlow  1783,    an    annuity    of   ,£2,680    was 

is  a  fine  fellow;    he  fairly  puts  his  granted  to  Thurlow.  Annual  Register, 

mind  to  yours.'     Life,  iv.  179;   see  1783,  i.  198. 

also  Ib.  iv.  327.  4  Ashbourne.     Life,  iv.  348. 

you 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


443 


you  are  able  to  bestow.     I  shall  now  live  mihi  carior*,  with 
a  higher  opinion  of  my  own  merit. 

'  I  am,  my  Lord, 

'  your  Lordship's  most  obliged, 
'  most  grateful, 

'  and  most  humble  servant, 

'  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

'September,  1784.' 

We  have  in  this  instance  the  exertion  of  two  congenial  minds  ; 
one,  with  a  generous  impulse  relieving  merit  in  distress 2,  and  the 
other,  by  gratitude  and  dignity  of  sentiment  rising  to  an  equal 
elevation. 

It  seems,  however,  that  greatness  of  mind  is  not  confined  to 
greatness  of  rank.  Dr.  Brocklesby  was  not  content  to  assist 
with  his  medical  art ;  he  resolved  to  minister  to  his  patient's 
mind,  and  pluck  from  his  memory  the  sorrow*  which  the  late 
refusal  from  a  high  quarter  might  occasion.  To  enable  him  to 
visit  the  south  of  France  in  pursuit  of  health,  he  offered  from  his 
own  funds  an  annuity  of  one  hundred  pounds,  payable  quarterly 4. 


1  Perhaps  Johnson  had  in  mind 
Juvenal's  line  (Sat.  x.  1.  350) — 

'  Carior  est  illis  homo  quam  sibi.' 

*  Thurlow's  neglect  of  Cowper  is 
alluded  to  in  the  Epistle  to  Joseph 
Hill.  Southey's  Coivper,  ix.  269,  n. 
See  also  ib.  iv.  208,  256.  On  the 
other  hand  he  treated  Crabbe  with 
generosity,  who,  on  being  at  first 
neglected  by  him,  had  sent  him  'some 
strong,  but  not  disrespectful  lines.' 
He  invited  the  young  poet  to  break 
fast,  and  said,  'The  first  poem  you 
sent  me,  Sir,  I  ought  to  have  noticed 
— and  I  heartily  forgive  the  second.' 
On  parting  he  put  into  his  hand 
a  sealed  packet  containing  a  bank 
note  for  a  hundred  pounds.  Crabbe's 
Works,  1834.  i.  56,  101. 

3  'About  eight  or  ten  days  before 
his  death,  when  Dr.  Brocklesby  paid 
him  his  morning  visit,  he  seemed 


very  low  and  desponding,  and  said, 
"I   have  been  as  a  dying  man   all 
night."     He  then  emphatically  broke 
out  in  the  words  of  Shakspeare,- — 
"Can'st    thou    not    minister    to    a 

mind  diseas'd  ; 
Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted 

sorrow ; 
Raze   out  the  written  troubles   of 

the  brain ; 
And,   with    some   sweet   oblivious 

antidote, 
Cleanse  the  stuff  d  bosom  of  that 

perilous  stuff, 

Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ?  " 
To    which    Dr.    Brocklesby    readily 
answered,  from  the  same  great  poet : — 

" therein  the  patient 

Must  minister  to  himself."  ' 

Macbeth,  Act  v.  sc.  3.     Life, 

iv.  400. 
*  Life,  iv.  338. 

This 


444  Essay  on 


This  was  a  s^veet  oblivious  antidote,  but  it  was  not  accepted  for 
the  reasons  assigned  to  the  Chancellor.  The  proposal,  however, 
will  do  honour  to  Dr.  Brocklesby,  as  long  as  liberal  sentiment 
shall  be  ranked  among  the  social  virtues. 

In  the  month  of  October,  1784,  we  find  Dr.  Johnson  corre 
sponding  with  Mr.  Nichols,  the  intelligent  compiler  of  the  Gentle 
man's  Magazine,  and,  in  the  langour  of  sickness,  still  desirous  to 
contribute  all  in  his  power  to  the  advancement  of  science  and 
useful  knowledge.  He  says,  in  a  letter  to  that  gentleman,  dated 
Lichfield,  October  20,  that  he  should  be  glad  to  give  so  skilful 
a  lover  of  Antiquities  any  information x.  He  adds, '  At  Ashburne, 
where  I  had  very  little  company,  I  had  the  luck  to  borrow 
Mr.  Bowyer's  Life 2,  a  book  so  full  of  contemporary  history,  that 
a  literary  man  must  find  some  of  his  old  friends.  I  thought  that 
I  could  now  and  then  have  told  you  some  hints  3  worth  your 
notice  :  and  perhaps  we  may  talk  a  life  over.  I  hope  we  shall 
be  much  together.  You  must  now  be  to  me  what  you  were 
before,  and  what  dear  Mr.  Allen 4  was  besides.  He  was  taken 
unexpectedly  away,  but  I  think  he  was  a  very  good  man.  I  have 
made  little  progress  in  recovery.  I  am  very  weak,  and  very 
sleepless ;  but  I  live  on  and  hope.' 

In  that  languid  condition,  he  arrived,  on  the  i6th  of  No 
vember,  at  his  house  in  Bolt-court 5,  there  to  end  his  days.  He 
laboured  with  the  dropsy  and  an  asthma.  He  was  attended  by 

1  'Any  information  about  my  na-      lost  one  of  my  best  and  tenderest 
live  place.'     Life,  iv.  369.  friends.'     Ib.  iv.  354. 

2  Nichols  published  in  1782  Anec-         5  Ib.  iv.  377. 

dotes  of  William  Boivyer,  Printer.  In  the  register  of  the  Library  of 

In  1812-15  he  brought  out  this  work,  Lichfield  Cathedral  are  the  following 

recast  and  enlarged,  under  the  title  entries: — 

of  Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  Eight-  'July  17,  1784. 

eenth  Century.  Sir  John  Floyer  on  the  Asthma. 

3  In   the    original   not  hints  but  Ur.  Johnson,  returned]  November  9. 
names.  Oct.  5,  1784. 

4  A  printer,  his  landlord,  and  next  Fuller's  Worthies.    Dr.  Sam.  John- 
neighbour  in  Bolt  Court.     Life,  iii.  son.  ret[urned]  November  9.' 

141.     On  July  31,  Johnson,  who  had          For  Floyer  see  Life,  iv.  353. 
heard  of  his  death,  writes :— '  I  have 

Dr. 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  445 

Dr.  Heberden,  Dr.  Warren,  Dr.  Brocklesby,  Dr.  Butter,  and  Mr. 
Cruikshank,  the  eminent  surgeon  x.  Eternity  presented  to  his 
mind  an  aweful  prospect,  and,  with  as  much  virtue  as  perhaps 
ever  is  the  lot  of  man,  he  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  his  dis 
solution.  His  friends  awakened  the  comfortable  reflection  of 
a  well-spent  life 2 ;  and,  as  his  end  drew  near,  they  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  him  composed,  and  even  chearful 3,  insomuch 
that  he  was  able,  in  the  course  of  his  restless  nights,  to  make 
translations  of  Greek  epigrams  from  the  Anthologia 4 ;  and  to 
compose  a  Latin  epitaph  for  his  father,  his  mother,  and  his  brother 
Nathaniel 5.  He  meditated,  at  the  same  time,  a  Latin  inscription 
to  the  memory  of  Garrick,  but  his  vigour  was  exhausted  6. 

His  love  of  Literature  was  a  passion  that  stuck  to  his  last 
sand 7.  Seven  days  before  his  death  he  wrote  the  following  letter 
to  his  friend  Mr.  Nichols. 

'SIR, 

1  The  late  learned  Mr.  Swinton 8  of  Oxford  having  one  day 
remarked  that  one  man,  meaning,  I  suppose,  no  man  but  himself, 
could  assign  all  the  parts  of  the  Ancient  Universal  History  to 
their  proper  authors,  at  the  request  of  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  or 

1  Life,  iv.  399.  cords    (p.  584) : — '  He  gave  to  Mr. 

*  Hawkins  (p.  584)  records  on  No-  Langton  and  another  person  to  fair 
vember  29 : — '  Mr.  Langton,  who  had  copy  some  translations  of  the  Greek 
spent  the  evening  with  him,  reported  epigrams  which  he  had  made  in  the 
that  his  hopes  were  increased,  and  preceding  nights  and  transcribed  the 
that  he  was  much  cheered  upon  be-  next  morning.'     See  also  Life,    iv. 
ing  reminded  of  the  general  tendency  384,  and    Works,  i.  175-     Hawkins 
of  his  writings  and  of  his  example.'  says   (p.    579)   Johnson  alledged  as 
See  Life,  iv.  414,  n.  2.  a  reason  for  these  renderings  *  that 

3  '  November  30,  I  saw  him  in  the  Henry  Stephens,  Buchanan,  Grotius, 

evening    and    found    him    chearful.'  and  others  had  paid  a  like  tribute  to 

Hawkins,  p.  584.  literature.' 

*  On  April  19  he   had    borrowed  5  Life,  iv.  393. 
from  Mrs.  Thrale's  library  the  Greek  6  Hawkins,  p.  579- 
Anthology.     '  When  I  lay  sleepless,'  7  '  Time  that  on  all  things  lays  his 
he  wrote,  '  I  used  to  driv«  the  night  lenient  hand 

along  by  turning  Greek  epigrams  into  Yet  tames  not  this ;  it  sticks  to 

Latin.     I   know   not  if  I    have    not  our  last  sand.' 

turned  a  hundred.'    Letters,  ii.  391.  p°Pe's  Moral  Essays,  i.  224. 

On    December    I,    Hawkins    re-         8  Life,  i.  273. 

myself, 


446  Essay  on 


myself,  gave  the  account  which  I  now  transmit  to  you  in  his  own 
hand,  being  willing  that  of  so  great  a  work  the  history  should  be 
known,  and  that  each  writer  should  receive  his  due  proportion  of 
praise  from  posterity. 

'  I  recommend  to  you  to  preserve  this  scrap  of  literary  intelli 
gence  in  Mr.  Swinton's  own  hand,  or  to  deposit  it  in  the 
Museum x,  that  the  veracity  of  this  account  may  never  be 
doubted. 

'  I  am,  Sir, 

'  Your  most  humble  servant, 
Dec.  6,  1784.  '  SAM.  JOHNSON  V 

On  the  morning  of  Dec.  7,  Dr.  Johnson  requested  to  see 
Mr.  Nichols  3.  A  few  days  before,  he  had  borrowed  some  of  the 
early  volumes  of  the  Magazine,  with  a  professed  intention  to 
point  out  the  pieces  which  he  had  written  in  that  collection. 
The  books  lay  on  the  table,  with  many  leaves  doubled  down, 
and  in  particular  those  which  contained  his  share  in  the  Parlia 
mentary  Debates.  Such  was  the  goodness  of  Johnson's  heart, 
that  he  then  declared,  that  '  those  debates  were  the  only  parts  of 
his  writings  which  gave  him  any  compunction ;  but  that  at  the 
time  he  wrote  them  he  had  no  conception  that  he  was  imposing 
upon  the  world,  though  they  were  frequently  written  from  very 
slender  materials,  and  often  from  none  at  all,  the  mere  coinage  of 
his  own  imagination4.'  He  added,  'that  he  never  wrote  any 
part  of  his  work  with  equal  velocity.  Three  columns  of  the 
Magazine  in  an  hour,'  he  said,  '  was  no  uncommon  effort ;  which 
was  faster  than  most  persons  could  have  transcribed  that  quantity. 

1  It  is  there  deposited.  J.N.   [Note  he  inserts  particulars  which  Murphy 
by  Murphy.]  has  omitted.     Life,  iv.  407. 

2  Life,  iv.  381.     In  note  I  on  Let-  4  Ib.  i.  501.     Nichols,  in  the  Pre- 
ters,  ii.  431,  I  wrongly  state  that  this  face   to   the   Gentleman's  Magazine 
letter  was  first  published  in  Malone's  for  1784,  says  : — '  It  must  indeed  be 
Bo  swell.       It    appeared    earlier    in  owned  that  the  Debates  in  Parliament, 
Murphy's  Essay.  since  they  have  been  retailed  genuine 

The  list  of  authors  which  I  omit  day  after   day   in    the    newspapers, 

will  be  found  in  Letters,  ii.  432.  have  become  much  less  interesting 

3  Boswell  gives  part  of  what  fol-  than   when    formerly  fabricated    by 
lows  but  not  all ;  on  the  other  hand  "  Dr.  Johnson  in  his  garret." ' 

In 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


447 


In  one  day  in  particular,  and  that  not  a  very  long  one,  he  wrote 
twelve  pages,  more  in  quantity  than  he  ever  wrote  at  any  other 
time,  except  in  the  Life  of  Savage,  of  which  forty-eight  pages  in 
octavo  were  the  production  of  one  long  day,  including  a  part  of 
the  night '.' 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation,  he  asked,  whether  any  of  the 
family  of  Faderi  the  printer  were  living.  Being  told  that  the 
geographer  near  Charing-cross  was  Faden's  son,  he  said,  after 
a  short  pause,  '  I  borrowed  a  guinea  of  his  father  near  thirty  years 
ago  ;  be  so  good  as  to  take  this,  and  pay  it  for  me 2.5 

Wishing  to  discharge  every  duty,  and  every  obligation,  Johnson 
recollected  another  debt  of  ten  pounds,  which  he  had  borrowed 
from  his  friend  Mr.  Hamilton  3  the  printer,  about  twenty  years 
before.  He  sent  the  money  to  Mr.  Hamilton  at  his  house  in 
Bedford  Row,  with  an  apology  for  the  length  of  time.  The 
Reverend  Mr.  Strahan  was  the  bearer  of  the  message,  about  four 
or  five  days  before  Johnson  breathed  his  last. 

Mr.  Sastres  (whom  Dr.  Johnson  esteemed  and  mentioned  in 
his  will 4)  entered  the  room  during  his  illness.  Dr.  Johnson,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  him,  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and,  in  a  tone  of 
lamentation,  called  out,  JAM  MORITURUS  5 !  But  the  love  of  life 


1  '  I  wrote  forty-eight  of  the  printed 
octavo  pages  of  the  Life  of  Savage 
at  a  sitting;    but  then  I   sat  up  all 
night.    I  have  also  written  six  sheets 
in    a   day  of    translation    from   the 
French.'     Life,   v.    67.      Six   sheets 
would  be  ninety-six  octavo  pages. 

2  Ib.  iv.  440;  Nichols's  Lit.  Anec., 
ii.  554.     Faden  the  printer  was  the 
editor    of   The  Literary   Magazine, 
for  which   Johnson   wrote    in    1756. 
Hawkins,  p.  252. 

3  Ante,  p.  412. 

4  '  To    Mr.    Sastres,    the    Italian 
master,  the  sum  of  five  pounds  to  be 
laid  out  in  books  of  piety  for  his  own 
use.'    Life,  iv.  402,  n.  2. 

5  Hawkins  records  on  December 


13  (p.  590) :— '  At  eight  in  the  even 
ing  word  was  brought  me  by  Mr. 
Sastres,  to  whom  in  his  last  moments 
he  uttered  these  words,  "Jam  mori- 
turus,"  that  at  a  quarter  past  seven  he 
had  without  a  groan,  or  the  least 
sign  of  pain  or  uneasiness,  yielded 
his  last  breath.' 

According  to  the  account  which 
Boswell  had  received,  the  last  words 
he  uttered  were  to  a  young  lady,  who 
asked  his  blessing.  '  He  turned  him 
self  in  his  bed  and  said,  "  God  bless 
you,  my  dear." '  Life,  iv.  418.  That 
his  words  to  her  were  not  quite  his 
last  words  is  shown  by  Mr.  Hoole's 
account.  Croker's  Boswell,  ix.  191. 

was 


448 


Essay  on 


was  still  an  active  principle.  Feeling  himself  swelled  with  the 
dropsy,  he  conceived  that,  by  incisions  in  his  legs,  the  water 
might  be  discharged.  Mr.  Cniikshank  apprehended  that  a 
mortification  might  be  the  consequence ;  but,  to  appease  a  dis 
tempered  fancy,  he  gently  lanced  the  surface.  Johnson  cried 
out, '  Deeper,  deeper ;  I  want  length  of  life,  and  you  are  afraid  of 
giving  me  pain,  which  I  do  not  value  *.' 

On  the  8th  of  December,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan  drew  his 
will 2,  by  which,  after  a  few  legacies,  the  residue,  amounting  to 
about  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  was  bequeathed  to  Frank,  the 
Black  servant,  formerly  consigned  to  the  testator  by  his  friend 

Dr.  Bathurst 3. 

» 

The  history  of  a  death-bed  is  painful.  Mr.  Strahan  informs 
us,  that  the  strength  of  religion  prevailed  against  the  infirmity  of 
nature ;  and  his  foreboding  dread  of  the  Divine  Justice  subsided 
into  a  pious  trust  and  humble  hope  of  mercy  at  the  Throne  of 
Grace4.  On  Monday  the  I3th  day  of  December  (the  last  of  his 
existence  on  this  side  the  grave),  the  desire  of  life  returned  with 
all  its  former  vehemence.  He  still  imagined,  that,  by  puncturing 
his  legs  relief  might  be  obtained.  At  eight  in  the  morning  he 
tried  the  experiment,  but  no  water  followed3.  In  an  hour  or 
two  after,  he  fell  into  a  doze,  and  about  seven  in  the  evening, 
expired  without  a  groan. 

On  the  20th  of  the  month  his  remains,  with  due  solemnities, 
and  a  numerous  attendance  of  his  friends,  were  buried  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  near  the  foot  of  Shakspeare's  monument, 


1  Life,  iv.  399 ;  Hawkins,  p.  592. 
To  Dr.  Brocklesby  a  few  days  earlier 
he  had  said : — *  How  many  men  in 
a  year  die  through  the  timidity  of 
those  whom  they  consult  for  health ! 
I  want  length  of  life,  and  you  fear 
giving  me  pain,  which  I  care  not 
for/  Hawkins,  p.  588.  See  Life, 
iv.  409- 

3  Strahan  was  only  his  amanuensis. 


Hawkins  records  on  December  9  (p. 
588) :— '  I  found  him  dictating  to 
Mr.  Strahan  another  will,  the  former 
\ib.  pp.  576,  580-3]  being,  as  he  had 
said  at  the  time  of  making  it,  a  tem 
porary  one.' 

3  Life,  iv.  401,  441. 

4  Prayers  and  Meditations,  Pre 
face,  p.  15  ;  Life,  iv.  416. 

5  Life,  iv.  399,  418,  n.  I. 

and 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


449 


and  close  to  the  grave  of  the  late  Mr.  Garrick  \     The  funeral 
service  was  read  by  his  friend  Dr.  Taylor  2. 

A  black  marble  over  his  grave  has  the  following  inscription  : 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON,  LL.D. 
obiit  XIII  die  Decembris, 

Anno  Domini 

MDCCLXXXIV. 
suae  LXXV. 


If  we  now  look  back,  as  from  an  eminence,  to  view  the  scenes 
of  life,  and  the  literary  labours  in  which  Dr.  Johnson  was 
engaged,  we  may  be  able  to  delineate  the  features  of  the  man, 
and  to  form  an  estimate  of  his  genius. 

/f~~As  a  man,  Dr.  Johnson  stands  displayed  in  open  day-light. 
/Nothing  remains  undiscovered  3.  Whatever  he  said  is  known  ; 
without  allowing  him  the  usual  privilege  of  hazarding 


1  Life,  iv.  419;  Letters,  ii.  434. 
Close  to  Johnson's  grave  is  one  to 

Sir  Archibald  Campbell,  who,  among 
other  distinctions,  was  '  heretable 
usher  of  the  white  rod.'  In  Chester's 
Westminster  Abbey  Registry,  p. 
438,  the  entry  next  before  Johnson's 
interment  is,  'Dec.  18  Elizabeth 
Broughton,  wife  of  John  Broughton 
the  celebrated  pugilist.'  She  was 
buried  in  the  cloisters.  The  pu 
gilist  himself  was  buried  there  a 
few  years  later.  In  1750  he  had 
been  beaten  in  'a  grand  boxing- 
match  by  Slack  the  butcher  of  Nor 
wich.'  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1750, 
p.  184. 

2  In  a  note  on  Johnson's  last  letter 
to  Taylor   dated   October   23,    1784 
(Letters,   ii.   426),   I    quote   Taylor's 
endorsement : — *  My  answer  ...  he 
resented    extremely.'      I    add    Mrs. 
Piozzi's   statement   that   on   account 
of  this  answer,  '  Dr.  Johnson  quar- 

VOL.  I.  G 


relied  with  his  truest  friend,  Dr. 
Taylor.'  The  quarrel  had  been  made 
up.  See  post,  in  Mr.  Hoole's  Anec 
dotes. 

'  A  dissatisfaction  was  expressed  in 
the  public  papers  that  he  was  not 
buried  with  all  possible  funeral  rites 
and  honours.  The  executors  did  not 
think  themselves  justified  in  doing 
more  than  they  did.  For  only  a 
little  cathedral  service,  accompanied 
with  light  and  music,  would  have 
raised  the  price  of  interment.  In  this 
matter  fees  run  high.  His  funeral 
expenses  amounted  to  more  than 
/200.'  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1785, 
p.  86. 

It  was  owing  to  the  expense  of  the 
funeral  that  Goldsmith's  body  lies 
in  an  unknown  grave  in  the  Temple 
Churchyard,  and  not  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  Goldsmith's  Works,  ed. 
1801,  i.  115. 

3  Ante,  p.  296. 
g  sentiments, 


45° 


Essay  on 


/sentiments,  and  advancing  positions,   for  mere   amusement,  or 

the  pleasure  of  discussion,  Criticism  has  endeavoured  to  make 

Vhim  answerable  for  what,  perhaps,  he  never  seriously  thought '. 

/  His  diary,  which  has  been  printed,  discovers  still   more.     We 

(  have  before  us  the  very  heart  of  the  man,  with  all  his  inward 

\  consciousness.     And  yet  neither  in  the  open  paths  of  life,  nor  in 

nis  secret  recesses,  has  any  one  vice  been  discovered.     We  see 

him   reviewing  every  year  of  his   life,   and   severely  censuring 

himself,  for  not  keeping  resolutions,  which  morbid  melancholy, 

and   other  bodily  infirmities,  rendered  impracticable.     We  see 

him  for  every  little  defect  imposing  on  himself  voluntary  penance, 

going  through  the  day  with  only  one  cup  of  tea  without  milk 2, 

and  to  the  last,  amidst  paroxysms   and    remissions  of  illness, 

forming  plans  of  study  and  resolutions  to  amend  his  life 3.    Many 

of  his  scruples  may  be   called  weaknesses ;    but   they  are  the 

weaknesses  of  a  good,  a  pious,  and  most  excellent  man. 

His  person,  it  is  well  known,  was  large  and  unwieldy4.     His 


1  '  He  appeared  to  have  a  pleasure 
in  contradiction,  especially  when  any 
opinion  whatever  was  delivered  with 
an  air  of  confidence;    so  that  there 
was   hardly  any  topick,  if  not  one 
of  the  great  truths  of  Religion  and 
Morality,  that   he   might  not    have 
been  incited  to  argue,  either  for  or 
against.'     Life,  iii.  24. 

2  '  His  prayers  for  the  dead  and 
his  minute  account  of  the  rigour  with 
which    he    observed    church    fasts, 
whether    he    drank    tea    or    coffee, 
whether  with  sugar  or  without,  and 
whether  one  or  two  dishes  of  either, 
are  the  most  important  items  to  be 
found  in  this  childish  register  of  the 
great  Johnson,  supreme  dictator  in 
the   chair  of  literature,   and   almost 
a  driveller  in  his  closet.'     Cowper's 
Works,  ed.  1836,  v.  152. 

'Yet  he  was  himself  under  the 
tyranny  of  scruples  as  unreasonable 
as  those  of  Hudibras  or  Ralpho.  .  .  . 
He  has  gravely  noted  down  in  his 


diary  that  he  once  committed  the  sin 
of  drinking  coffee  on  Good  Friday. 
....  With  what  a  storm  of  invective 
he  would  have  overwhelmed  any 
man  who  had  blamed  him  for  cele 
brating  the  redemption  of  mankind 
with  sugarless  tea  and  butterless 
buns.'  Macaulay's  Essays,  ed.  1843, 

i-  394- 

Cowper  was  unaware  that  his  own 
state  was  far  worse  than  Johnson's, 
whose  superstition  was  tempered  by 
great  laxness  of  practice.  '  The  sin 
of  drinking  coffee '  is  in  Macaulay's 
article  but  not  in  Johnson's  diary. 
See  ante,  p.  75. 

3  Life,  iv.  134.     Ante,  p.  99. 

In  1764  he  recorded  : — 'I  have  now 
spent  fifty-five  years  in  resolving.' 
Ante,  p.  31. 

4  The  author  of  the  Life  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  published  by  Kearsley,  says, 
p.  87 : — 'His  face  was  composed  of 
large  coarse  features,  which  from  a 
studious  turn  when  composed  looked 

nerves 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


451 


nerves  were  affected  by  that  disorder,  for  which,  at  two  years  of 
age,  he  was  presented  to  the  royal  touch1.     His  head  shook, 
and  involuntary  motions  made  it  uncertain  that  his  legs  and 
arms  would,  even  at  a  tea-table,  remain  in  their  proper  place 2. 
A  person  of  Lord  Chesterfield's  delicacy  might  in  his  company 
be  in  a  fever 3.    He  would  sometimes  of  his  own  accord  do  things 
inconsistent  with  the    established  modes  of  behaviour.     Sitting 
at  table  with  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Cholmondeley,  who  exerted 
herself  to  circulate  the  subscription  for  Shakspeare  4,  he  took  hold 
of  her  hand  in  the  middle  of  dinner,  and  held  it  close  to  his  eye, 
wondering  at  the  delicacy  and  the  whiteness,  till  with  a  smile  she 
asked,  Will  he  give  it  to  me  again  when  he  has  done  with  it? 
/The  exteriors  of  politeness  did  not  belong  to  Johnson.     Even 
/that  civility  which  proceeds,  or  ought  to  proceed,  from  the  mind, 
/  was  sometimes  violated.     His  morbid  melancholy  had  an  effect 
I  on  his  temper  ;  his   passions  were  irritable ;    and  the  pride  of 
I  science,  as  well  as  of  a  fierce  independent  spirit,  inflamed  him  on 
\some  occasions  above  all  bounds  of  moderation.     Though  not  in 
4he  shade  of  academic  bowers 5,  he  led  a  scholastic  life ;  and  the 
habit  of  pronouncing  decisions  to  his  friends  and  visitors  gave 
a  dictatorial  manner,  which  was  much  enforced  by  a  voice 
iturally  loud,  and  often  overstretched 6.     Metaphysical  discus- 
rsion,  moral  theory,  systems  of  religion,  and  anecdotes  of  literature, 
were  his  favourite  topics7.    General  history  had  little  of  his  regard, 
biography  was  his  delight 8.     The  proper  study  of  mankind  is 


sluggish,  yet  awful  and  contemplative. 
...  His  face  however  was  capable 
of  great  expression  both  in  respect 
to  intelligence  and  mildness,  as  all 
those  can  witness  who  have  seen  him 
in  the  flow  of  conversation  or  under 
the  influence  of  grateful  feelings.' 

1  Ante,  pp.  133,  152. 

2  Life,  I.  144;  v.  18. 

3  Chesterfield,     in     the     passage 
wrongly  applied  to  Johnson    (ante, 
p.  384),  describing   Lord   Lyttelton, 
had  said : — *  I  am  almost  in  a  fever 
whenever   I   am    in    his    company.' 
Chesterfield's  Letters  to  his  Son,  iii. 
129. 

G 


4  To  get   subscribers,   that  is    to 
say,  for  his  edition  of  Shakespeare. 
Letters,  i.  68.  For  Mrs.  Cholmondely, 
see  ib.  ii.  186,  n.  3  ;  Life,  iii.  318. 

5  *  Under  the  shelter  of  academic 
bowers.'     Works,   v.   51.     Ante,  p. 
405. 

6  Boswell  mentions  'his  deliberate 
and  strong  utterance.'     Life,  ii.  326  ; 
'his  loud  voice  and  slow  deliberate 
utterance.'    Ib.  iv.  429. 

7  Ante,  p.  201. 

8  'MONBODDO.    "The  history  of 
manners    is  the  most  valuable.      I 
never  set  a  high  value  on  any  other 
history."    JOHNSON.    "  Nor  I ;  and 

man. 


452  Essay  on 


man1.     Sooner  than  hear  of  the  Punic  war,  he  would  be  rude  to 
the  person  that  introduced  the  subject 2. 

Johnson  was  born  a  logician ;  one  of  those,  to  whom  only 
books  of  logic  are  said  to  be  of  use.  In  consequence  of  his  skill 
in  that  art,  he  loved  argumentation.  No  man  thought  more 
profoundly,  nor  with  such  acute  discernment.  A  fallacy  could 
not  stand  before  him :  it  was  sure  to  be  refuted  by  strength 
of  reasoning,  and  a  precision  both  in  idea  and  expression  almost 
unequalled.  When  he  chose  by  apt  illustration  to  place  the 
argument  of  his  adversary  in  a  ludicrous  light,  one  was  almost 
mclined  to  think  ridicule  the  test  of  truth 3.  He  was  surprized  to 
/be  told,  but  it  is  certainly  true,  that,  with  great  powers  of  mind, 
and  humour  were  his  shining  talents 4.  That  he  often  argued 
for  the  sake  of  a  triumph  over  his  adversary,  cannot  be  dis 
sembled5.  Dr.  Rose6,  of  Chiswick,  has  been  heard  to  tell  of 
a  friend  of  his,  who  thanked  him  for  introducing  him  to 
Dr.  Johnson,  as  he  had  been  convinced,  in  the  course  of  a  long 
dispute,  that  an  opinion  which  he  had  embraced  as  a  settled 
truth,  was  no  better  than  a  vulgar  error.  This  being  reported 

therefore    I    esteem    biography,    as  not  ridicule  the  test  of  truth,'  see 

giving  us  what  comes  near  to  our-  The  Divine  Legation,   ed.    1765,  i. 

selves,  what  we  can  turn   to   use."'  Dedication,  p.  15. 

Life,  v.  79.     '  The  biographical  part  '  It  is  commonly  said,  and  more 

of  literature,'  he  said,  '  is  what  I  love  particularly    by    Lord    Shaftesbury, 

most.'     Ib.  i.  425.  that  ridicule  is  the  best  test  of  truth, 

1  Pope,  Essay  on  Man,  ii.  2.  for  that  it  will  not  stick  where  it  is 

2  Ante,  p.  202.  not  just.     I  deny  it.    A  truth  learned 

3  'Truth,  'tis  suppos'd,  may  bear  in  a  certain  light,  and  attacked  in 
all  Lights :   and  one  of  those  prin-  certain  words,  by  men   of  wit  and 
cipal  Lights  or  natural  Mediums  by  humour,  may,  and   often   doth,  be- 
which  Things  are  to  be  view'd,  in  come  ridiculous,  at  least  so  far  that 
order  to   a  thorow    Recognition,   is  the  truth   is   only  remembered  and 
Ridicule  it-self,  or  that   Manner  of  repeated  for  the  sake  of  the  ridicule.' 
Proof  by  which  we  discern  whatever  Chesterfield's  Letters,  iii.  260. 

is  liable  to  just  Raillery  in  any  sub-          '  Akenside  adopted    Shaftesbury's 

ject Without  Wit  and  Humour  foolish   assertion   of  the  efficacy  of 

Reason   can   hardly   have  its   proof,  ridicule  for  the  discovery  of  truth.' 

or  be   distinguish'd.'     Shaftesbury's  Johnson's  Works,  viii.  470. 
Characteristics,  ed.  1714,  i.  61,  73.  4  Ante,  p.  287. 

For    Warburton's    argument  that          5  Ante,  p.  185. 
'reason  is  the  test   of  ridicule  and         6  Ante,  p.  419. 

to 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  453 

to  Johnson,  *  Nay,'  said  he,  *  do  not  let  him  be  thankful,  for  he 
was  right,  and  I  was  wrong.'  Like  his  uncle  Andrew,  in  the 
ring  at  Smithfield,  Johnson,  in  a  circle  of  disputants,  was  deter 
mined  neither  to  be  thrown  nor  conquered1.  Notwithstanding  all 
his  piety,  self-government,  or  the  command  of  his  passions  in 
conversation,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  among  his  attainments. 
Whenever  he  thought  the  contention  was  for  superiority,  he  has 
been  known  to  break  out  with  violence,  and  even  ferocity. 
When  the  fray  was  over,  he  generally  softened  into  repentance, 
and,  by  conciliating  measures,  took  care  that  no  animosity 
should  be  left  rankling  in  the  breast  of  his  antagonist 2.  Of 
this  defect  he  seems  to  have  been  conscious.  In  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Thrale  3,  he  says,  '  Poor  Baretti !  do  not  quarrel  with  him  ; 
to  neglect  him  a  little  will  be  sufficient.  He  means  only  to 
be  frank  and  manly,  and  independent,  and,  perhaps,  as  you  say, 
a  little  wise.  To  be  frank,  he  thinks,  is  to  be  cynical ;  and  to 
be  independent,  is  to  be  rude.  Forgive  him,  dearest  lady,  the 
rather,  because  of  his  misbehaviour  I  am  afraid  he  learned  part 
of  me.  I  hope  to  set  him  hereafter  a  better  example.'  For  his 
own  intolerant  and  overbearing  spirit  he  apologized  by  observing, 
that  it  had  done  some  good  ;  obscenity  and  impiety  were  re 
pressed  in  his  company 4. 

It  was  late  in  life  before  he  had  the  habit  of  mixing,  otherwise 
than  occasionally,  with  polite  company5.     At  Mr.  Thrale's  he 

1  Ante,  p.    49.  3  Letters,  i.  350. 

8  *  Goldsmith   sat   silently   brood-  4  Life,  iv.  295. 

ing  over  Johnson's  reprimand  to  him  5  'Before  his  arrival  in   town  he 

after  dinner.  Johnson  perceived  this,  was    but    little    accustomed   to   free 

and  said  aside  to  some  of  us,  "  I'll  conversation     with     his     superiors.' 

make  Goldsmith  forgive  me;"   and  Hawkins,  p.  164.    Boswell,  speaking 

then  called  to  him  in  a  loud  voice,  of   the   best    families    at    Lichfield, 

"  Dr.  Goldsmith,— something  passed  says  :— '  In  these  families  he  passed 

to-day  where  you  and  I  dined ;  I  ask  much  time   in  his  early  years.     In 

your  pardon."     Goldsmith  answered  most  of  them  he  was  in  the  company 

placidly,  "  It  must  be  much  from  you,  of  ladies  ...  so  that  the  notion  which 

Sir,  that  I  take  ill."     And  so  at  once  has  been  industriously  circulated  and 

the  difference  was  over.'    Z*/*,  ii.  256.  believed  that  he  never  was  in  good 

See  post,  in  Miss  Reynolds's  Recol-  company  till  late  in  life  ...  is  wholly 

lections,  and  in  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  without    foundation.'      Life,    i.    82. 

Character  of  Johnson.  See  post,  in  Percy's  Anecdotes. 

saw 


454  Essay  on 


saw  a  constant  succession  of  well -accomplished  visitors.    In  that 

society  he   began   to  wear   off  the  rugged   points  of  his  own 

character.      He    saw   the    advantages   of   mutual   civility,   and 

endeavoured  to  profit  by  the  models  before  him  x.     He  aimed  at 

what  has  been  called  by  Swift  the  lesser  morals,  and  by  Cicero 

minor es  virttttes2.     His  endeavour,  though  new  and  late,  gave 

/  pleasure  to  all  his  acquaintance.     Men  were  glad  to  see  that  he 

\  was  willing  to  be  communicative  on  equal  terms  and  reciprocal 

complacence.     The   time  was   then   expected  when  he  was  to 

cease  being  what    George  Garrick,  brother  to   the   celebrated 

actor,    called    him    the    first    time    he    heard    him    converse, 

>A  TREMENDOUS  COMPANION3.'     He   certainly  wished  to   be 

f  polite,   and    even   thought   himself  so 4 ;    but    his   civility   still 

Vetained   something   uncouth   and   harsh.      His    manners    took 

a^  milder  tone,  but  the  endeavour  was  too  palpably  seen.     He 

laboured  even  in  trifles5.     He  was  a  giant  gaining  a  purchase^ 

to  lift  a  feather. 

It  is  observed  by  the  younger  Pliny,  that  in  the  confines  of 
virtue  and  great  qualities  there  are  generally  vices  of  an  opposite 
nature.  In  Dr.  Johnson  not  one  ingredient  can  take  the  name 
of  vice.  From  his  attainments  in  literature  grew  the  pride 

1  Life,  i.  495  ;  iii.  325;  ante,  p.  318.  died    two    days    after  his   brother's 

2  'Those   inferiour  duties  of  life,  funeral.     His   first   question   on   his 
which   the   French    call    les  petites  entering  the  theatre  after  a  temporary 
morales,  or  the  smaller  morals,  are  absence   was   invariably,   "  Has   my 
with  us  distinguished  by  the  name  of  brother  wanted  me?"     Old  Charles 
good  manners  or   breeding.'     Swift,  Bannister,    with    a    sort    of   tender 
Tatler,  No.  20.  pleasantry,   when    he   heard   of   his 

'  Great  talents  and  great  virtues  (if  death    said,    "  His  brother    wanted 

you  should  have  them)  will  procure  him." '     Garrick  Carres.,  vol.  i.  Pre- 

you  the  respect  and  the  admiration  face,  p.  62. 

of   mankind ;    but    it  is   the    lesser  4  ' "  Sir,  I  look  upon  myself  as  a 

talents,  the  leniores  virtutes,  which  very  polite  man ; "  and  he  was  right 

must    procure    you    their   love   and  in    a    proper    manly  sense    of    the 

affection.'     Chesterfield's  Letters,  ii.  word.'     Life,  v.  363.     See  also  ib.  iii. 

304.  337,  and  ante,  p.  168. 

4  To   kinder  skies,   where  gentler  5  '  It  appears  to  me  that  I  labour 

manners  reign,  when  I  say   a   good   thing.'    Ib.  v. 

I  turn.'          The  Traveller,  1.  239.  76. 

3  Life,  iii.  139.  George  Garrick  had  6  Purchase  used  in  this  sense  is 
been  Johnson's  pupil.   Ib.  i.  97.   '  He  not  in  Johnson's  Dictionary. 

of 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  455 

of  knowledge ;  and  from  his  powers  of  reasoning,  the  love  of 
disputation  and  the  vain-glory  of  superior  vigour.  His  piety, 
in  some  instances,  bordered  on  superstition.  He  was  willing 
to  believe  in  preternatural  agency,  and  thought  it  not  more 
strange  that  there  should  be  evil  spirits  than  evil  men  x.  Even 
the  question  about  second-sight  held  him  in  suspense.  '  Second- 
sight,'  Mr.  Pennant  tells  us,  '  is  a  power  of  seeing  images  im 
pressed  on  the  organs  of  sight  by  the  power  of  fancy,  or  on  the 
fancy  by  the  disordered  spirits  operating  on  the  mind.  It  is  the 
faculty  of  seeing  spectres  or  visions,  which  represent  an  event 
actually  passing  at  a  distance,  or  likely  to  happen  at  a  future  day. 
In  1771,  a  gentleman,  the  last  who  was  supposed  to  be  possessed 
of  this  faculty,  had  a  boat  at  sea  in  a  tempestuous  night,  and, 
being  anxious  for  his  freight,  suddenly  started  up,  and  said  his 
men  would  be  drowned,  for  he  had  seen  them  pass  before  him 
with  wet  garments  and  dropping  locks.  The  event  corresponded 
with  his  disordered  fancy.  And  thus,'  continues  Mr.  Pennant, 
'  a  distempered  imagination,  clouded  with  anxiety,  may  make  an 
impression  on  the  spirits ;  as  persons,  restless  and  troubled  with 
indignation,  see  various  forms  and  figures  while  they  lie  awake 
in  bed 2.'  This  is  what  Dr.  Johnson  was  not  willing  to  reject 3. 
He  wished  for  some  positive  proof  of  communications  with 
another  world4.  His  benevolence  embraced  the  whole  race 
of  man,  and  yet  was  tinctured  with  particular  prejudices.  He 
was  pleased  with  the  minister  in  the  Isle  of  Sky,  and  loved 
him  so  much  that  he  began  to  wish  him  not  a  Presbyterian5. 

1  Life,  v.  45.  4  Speaking  of  'Thomas  Lord  Lyt- 

2  Apparently  quoted    from    Pen-     telton's  vision  '  he  said  : — ' "  I  am  so 
nant's    Tour  in  Scotland,   1769,  4th     glad  to  have  every  evidence  of  the 
ed.,  p.  198.  spiritual  world  that  I  am  willing  to 

3' Johnson   (Works,  ix.    107)   thus  believe  it."    DR.  ADAMS.  "You  have 

sums  up  his  examination  of  second-  evidence    enough ;    good    evidence, 

sight :—' There    is    against    it,    the  which    needs    not    such     support." 

seeming  analogy  of  things  confusedly  JOHNSON.    "I  like  to  have  more.'" 

seen,  and  little  understood ;  and  for  Life,  iv.  298. 

it,  the  indistinct  cry  of  natural  per-  5  Johnson  wrote  of  the  ministers  :— 

suasion,  which  may  be,  perhaps,  re-  '  I  saw  not  one  in  the  islands  whom 

solved    at    last    into   prejudice  and  I  had  reason  to  think  either  deficient 

tradition.    I  never  could  advance  my  in  learning,  or  irregular  in  life ;  but 

curiosity  to    conviction ;    but  came  found  several  with  whom  I  could  not 

away  at  last  only  willing  to  believe.'  converse  without  wishing,  as  my  re- 

To 


456 


Essay  on 


To  that  body  of  Dissenters  his  zeal  for  the  Established  Church 
made  him  in  some  degree  an  adversary ;  and  his  attachment  to 
a  mixed  and  limited  Monarchy  led  him  to  declare  open  war 
against  what  he  called  a  sullen  Republican x.  He  would  rather 
praise  a  man  of  Oxford  than  of  Cambridge2.  He  disliked 
a  Whig,  and  loved  a  Tory.  These  were  the  shades  of  his 
character,  which  it  has  been  the  business  of  certain  party-writers 
to  represent  in  the  darkest  colours 3. 

Since  virtue,  or  moral  goodness,  consists  in  a  just  conformity 
of  our  actions  to  the  relations  in  which  we  stand  to  the  Supreme 
Being  and  to  our  fellow-creatures,  where  shall  we  find  a  man 
who  has  been,  or  endeavoured  to  be,  more  diligent  in  the 
discharge  of  those  essential  duties?  His  first  prayer  was 
composed  in  1738;  he  continued  those  fervent  ejaculations  of 
piety  to  the  end  of  his  life.  In  his  meditations  we  see  him 
scrutinizing  himself  with  severity,  and  aiming  at  perfection 
unattainable  by  man.  His  duty  to  his  neighbour  consisted  in 
universal  benevolence,  and  a  constant  aim  at  the  production 
of  happiness.  Who  was  more  sincere  and  steady  in  his  friend 
ships  ?  It  has  been  said  that  there  was  no  real  affection  between 
him  and  Garrick4.  On  the  part  of  the  latter,  there  might  be 
some  corrosions  of  jealousy.  The  character  of  PROSPERO,  in 
the  Rambler,  N°.  aoo,  was,  beyond  all  question,  occasioned  by 
Garrick's  ostentatious  display  of  furniture  and  Dresden  china 5. 
It  was  surely  fair  to  take  from  this  incident  a  hint  for  a  moral 


spect  increased,  that  they  had  not 
been  Presbyterians.'  Works,  ix. 
102. 

It  was  the  Rev.  Donald  M'Queen 
whom  he  loved  so  much.  Life,  v. 
257. 

1  '  Milton's   political  notions  were 
those  of  an   acrimonious  and  surly 
republican.'     Works,  vii.  116. 

2  Ante,  p.  168. 

3  '  Against  his  Life  of  Milton  the 
hounds  of  Whiggism  have  opened  in 
full  cry.'     Life,  iv.  40. 

4  Hawkins,  p.  425  ;  Hawkins  adds 
(p.  426),  that   'Johnson's  behaviour 


to  Garrick  was  ever  austere,  like  that 
of  a  schoolmaster  to  one  of  his 
scholars.'  Percy  says  that  'Johnson 
kept  Garrick  much  in  awe.'  Life, 
i.  99,  n.  i.  Boswell  describes  how 
one  evening  'Garrick  played  round 
Johnson  with  a  fond  vivacity,  taking 
hold  of  the  breasts  of  his  coat,  and, 
looking  up  in  his  face  with  a  lively 
archness,  complimented  him  on  the 
good  health  which  he  seemed  then 
to  enjoy ;  while  the  sage,  shaking 
his  head,  beheld  him  with  a  gentle 
complacency.'  Ib.  ii.  82. 
5  Ib.  i.  216. 

essay ; 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  457 

essay;  and,  though  no  more  was  intended,  Garrick,  we  are  told, 
remembered  it  with  uneasiness.  He  was  also  hurt  that  his 
Lichfield  friend  did  not  think  so  highly  of  his  dramatic  art  as 
the  rest  of  the  world.  The  fact  was,  Johnson  could  not  see  the 
passions  as  they  rose  and  chased  one  another  in  the  varied 
features  of  that  expressive  face ;  and  by  his  own  manner  of 
reciting  verses,  which  was  wonderfully  impressive ',  he  plainly 
shewed  that  he  thought  there  was  too  much  of  artificial  tone 
and  measured  cadence  in  the  declamation  of  the  theatre.  The 
present  writer  well  remembers  being  in  conversation  with 
Dr.  Johnson  near  the  side  of  the  scenes  during  the  tragedy  of 
King  Lear  :  when  Garrick  came  off  the  stage,  he  said,  '  You  two 
talk  so  loud  you  destroy  all  my  feelings.'  '  Prithee,'  replied 
Johnson,  '  do  not  talk  of  feelings,  Punch  has  no  feelings  V  This 
seems  to  have  been  his  settled  opinion ;  admirable  as  Garrick's 
imitation  of  nature  always  was,  Johnson  thought  it  no  better  than 
mere  mimickry.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  he  esteemed  and  loved 
Garrick ;  that  he  dwelt  with  pleasure  on  his  praise ;  and  used 
to  declare,  that  he  deserved  his  great  success,  because  on  all 
applications  for  charity  he  gave  more  than  was  asked  V  After 

1  Ante,  p.  347.  Adam  Smith  wrote  of  players: — 

2  Life,  iv.  7,  243 ;   v.  38.     Post,  in      '  It  seems  absurd  at  first  sight  that 
Reynolds's  Dialogues.  we  should  despise  their  persons,  and 

Johnson  in  two  notes  on  A  Mid-  yet   reward  their   talents    with    the 

summer  Night's  Dream,  Act  i.  sc.  4,  most  profuse  liberality,'     Wealth  of 

ridicules  the  players.     '  Bottom,  who  Nations,  Bk.  i.  ch.  10.     See  also  ib., 

is  generally  acknowledged  the  prin-  Bk.  ii.  ch.  3. 

cipal  actor,  declares  his  inclination  This  was  written,  though  not  pub- 

to  be  for  a  tyrant,  for  a  part  of  fury,  lished,  before  he  joined  the  Literary 

tumult  and  noise,  such  as  every  young  Club,   where   he   met  Garrick,   who 

man  pants  to  perform  when  he  first  pronounced  his  conversation  flabby. 

steps    upon   the   stage.      The   same  Life,  iv    24,  n.  2.     In  Gil  Bias,  Bk. 

Bottom,  who  seems  bred  in  a  tiring-  iii.  chs.  II  and  12,  is  shown  why  an 

room,  has  another  histrionical  pas-  author  so  often  despises  actors, 

sion.      He   is   for  engrossing  every  3  Murphy  (Life  of  Garrick,  p.  378) 

part,  and  would  exclude  his  inferiors  says :— '  Dr.  Johnson  often  said  that, 

from  all  possibility  of  distinction.  .  .  .  when    he    saw  a  worthy  family   in 

Here  Bottom  again  discovers  a  true  distress,  it  was  his  custom  to  collect 

genius  for  the  Stage  by  his  solicitude  charity  among  such  of  his  friends  as 

for  propriety  of  dress,  and  his  deli-  he  knew  to  be  affluent ;  and  on  those 

beration  which  beard  to  chuse  among  occasions  he  received  from  Garrick 

many  beards  all  unnatural.'  more  than  from  any  other  person, 

Garrick's 


458  Essay  on 


Garrick's  death  he  never  talked  of  him  without  a  tear  in  his 
eyes '.  He  offered,  if  Mrs.  Garrick  would  desire  it  of  him,  to  be 
the  editor  of  his  works  and  the  historian  of  his  life 2.  It  has 
been  mentioned  that  on  his  death-bed  he  thought  of  writing 
a  Latin  inscription  to  the  memory  of  his  friend 3.  Numbers  are 
still  living  who  know  these  facts,  and  still  remember  with 
gratitude  the  friendship  which  he  shewed  to  them  with  unaltered 
affection  for  a  number  of  years4.  His  humanity  and  generosity, 
in  proportion  to  his  slender  income,  were  unbounded.  It  has 
been  truly  said,  that  the  lame,  the  blind,  and  the  sorrowful, 
found  in  his  house  a  sure  retreat 5.  A  strict  adherence  to  truth 
he  considered  as  a  sacred  obligation,  insomuch  that,  in  relating 
the  most  minute  anecdote,  he  would  not  allow  himself  the 
smallest  addition  to  embellish  his  story6.  The  late  Mr.  Tyers, 
who  knew  Dr.  Johnson  intimately,  observed,  'that  he  always 
talked  as  if  he  was  talking  upon  oath  V  After  a  long  acquaint 
ance  with  this  excellent  man,  and  an  attentive  retrospect  to  his 
whole  conduct,  such  is  the  light  in  which  he  appears  to  the 
writer  of  this  essay.  The  following  lines  of  Horace  may  be 
deemed  his  picture  in  miniature : 

Iracundior  est  paulo;  minus  aptus  acutis 

Naribus  horum  hominum ;  rideri  possit,  eo  quod 

Rusticius  tonso  toga  defluit,  et  male  laxus 

In  pede  calceus  hasret ;   at  est  bonus,  ut  melior  vir 

Non  alius  quisquam ;   at  tibi  amicus ;   at  ingenium  ingens 

Inculto  latet  hoc  sub  corpora8. 

and  always  more  than  he  expected.'  willing  to  pay  that  last  tribute  to  the 

See  also  Life,  iii.  70,  264,  387.  memory  of  a  man  I  loved." '  Murphy 

1  The  statement— allowing  that  one  adds  that  he  himself  took  care  that 

tear  can  be  in  two  eyes — like  some  Mrs.  Garrick  was  informed  of  what 

others  of  Murphy's  about  Johnson,  is  Johnson  had  said,  but  that  no  answer 

an  exaggeration.  was  ever  received. 

a  Murphy  (Life  of  Garrick,  p.  374)  3  Ante,  p.  445. 

says  : — '  Shortly  after  Garrick's  death  4  Ante,  pp.  279,  421. 

Johnson  was  told  in  a  large  company,  5  Ante,  p.  205. 

"  You  are  recent  from  the  Lives  of  6  Ante,  p.  225. 

the  Poets ;   why  not  add  your  friend  7  Life,  ii.  434  ;  iii.  308. 

Garrick  to  the  number?"    Johnson's  8  *  Your  friend  is  passionate  ;  per- 

answer  was,   "  I  do  not  like  to  be  haps  unfit 

officious;   but  if  Mrs.  Garrick   will  For  the  brisk  petulance  of  modern 

desire  me  to  do  it,  I  shall  be  very  wit. 

It 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


459 


It  remains  to  give  a  review  of  Johnson's  works  ;  and  this,  it  is 
imagined,  will  not  be  unwelcome  to  the  reader. 

Like  Milton  and  Addison,  he  seems  to  have  been  fond  of  his 
Latin  poetry x.  Those  compositions  shew  that  he  was  an  early 
scholar ;  but  his  verses  have  not  the  graceful  ease  that  gave  so 
much  suavity  to  the  poems  of  Addison.  The  translation  of  the 
Messiah  labours  under  two  disadvantages;  it  is  first  to  be 
compared  with  Pope's  inimitable  performance2,  and  afterwards 
with  the  Pollio  of  Virgil.  It  may  appear  trifling  to  remark,  that 
he  has  made  the  letter  <?,  in  the  word  Virgo,  long  and  short  in 
the  same  line  ;  VIRGO,  VlRGO  PARIT  3.  But  the  translation  has 
great  merit,  and  some  admirable  lines4.  In  the  odes  there 


His  hair  ill   cut,   his   robe   that 

aukward  flows, 
Or  his   large   shoes,   to   raillery 

expose 
The  man  you  love  ;  yet  is  he  not 

possess'd 
Of  virtues,  with  which  very  few 

are  blest  ? 

While  underneath  this  rude  un 
couth  disguise 
A  genius  of  extensive  knowledge 

lies.' 

Francis's  Horace,  Book  i.'Sat.  3. 1.  29. 
'On  the  frame  of  Johnson's  por 
trait,  Mr.  Beauclerk  had  inscribed, — 

" Ingenium  ingens 

Inculto  latet  hoc  sub  corpore" 
After  Mr.  Beauclerk's  death,  when 
it  became  Mr.  Langton's  property, 
he  made  the  inscription  be  defaced. 
Johnson  said  complacently,  "  It  was 
kind  in  you  to  take  it  off;  "  and  then 
after  a  short  pause  added,  "  and  not 
unkind  in  him  to  put  it  on."  '  Life, 
iv.  180. 

1  His  versibus  indicari  ac  velut 
pingi  Virgilium  tradit  vetus  inter- 
pres.'  Delphine  Horace. 

1  *  Milton  was  at  this  time  [in  his 
student  days]  eminently  skilled  in  the 
Latin  tongue;  and  he  himself,  by 
annexing  the  dates  to  his  first  com 


positions  ....  seems  to  commend 
the  earliness  of  his  own  proficiency 
to  the  notice  of  posterity.'  Works, 
vii.  67.  'Addison's  Latin  compo 
sitions  seem  to  have  had  much  of 
his  fondness.'  Ib.  p.  421. 

3  Ante,  p.  362. 

Pope  is  reported  to  have  said : — 
'  The  writer  of  this  poem  will  leave  it 
a  question  for  posterity,  whether  his 
or  mine  be  the  original.'  Hawkins, 

P-  13- 

3  Works,  i.  155,  1.  10. 

4  *  This  translation  has  been  praised 
and  magnified  beyond  its  merits.    In 
it  are  many  hard  and    unclassical 
expressions,  a  great  want  of  harmony, 
and  many  unequal  and  un-virgilian 
lines.     I  was  once  present  at  a  dis 
pute  on  this  subject  betwixt  a  person 
of  great  political  talents,  and  a  scholar 
who  had  spent  his  life  among  the 
Greek  and  Roman  classics.      Both 
were   intimate    friends    of  Johnson. 
The  former,  after  many  objections  had 
been  made  to  this  translation  by  the 
latter,  quoted  a  line  which  he  thought 
equal  to  any  he  ever  had  read  : — 

"  —  juncique    tremit    variabilis 

umbra. 

The  green  reed  trembles—1 
The  Scholar  (Pedant  if  you  will) 

is 


460  Essay  on 


is  a  sweet  flexibility,  particularly,  To  his  worthy  friend 
Dr.  Laurence1 ;  on  himself  at  the  theatre,  March  8,  1771 2 ;  the 
Ode  in  the  isle  of  Sky 3 ;  and  that  to  Mrs.  Thrale  from  the  same 
place 4. 

His  English  poetry  is  such  as  leaves  room  to  think,  if  he  had 
devoted  himself  to  the  Muses,  that  he  would  have  been  the 
rival  of  Pope.  His  first  production  in  this  kind  was  LONDON  5, 
a  poem  in  imitation  of  the  third  satire  of  Juvenal.  The  vices  of 
the  metropolis  are  placed  in  the  room  of  antient  manners.  The 
author  had  heated  his  mind  with  the  ardour  of  Juvenal,  and, 
having  the  skill  to  polish  his  numbers,  he  became  a  sharp 
accuser  of  the  times.  The  VANITY  OF  HUMAN  WISHES  6  is  an 
imitation  of  the  tenth  satire  of  the  same  author.  Though  it  is 
translated  by  Dryden,  Johnson's  imitation  approaches  nearest 
to  the  spirit  of  the  original.  The  subject  is  taken  from  the 
ALCIBIADES  of  PLATO,  and  has  an  intermixture  of  the  sentiments 
of  SOCRATES  concerning  the  object  of  prayers  offered  up  to  the 
Deity.  The  general  proposition  is,  that  good  and  evil  are  so 
little  understood  by  mankind,  that  their  wishes  when  granted 
are  always  destructive.  This  is  exemplified  in  a  variety  of 
instances,  such  as  riches,  state-preferment,  eloquence,  military 
glory,  long  life,  and  the  advantages  of  form  and  beauty. 
Juvenal's  conclusion  is  worthy  of  a  Christian  poet,  and  such  a  pen 

said  there  is  no  such  word  as  vari-  I  told  him,  I  thought  it  a  very  sono- 

abilis\T\  any  classical  writer.  "Surely,"  rous  hexameter.     I  did  not  tell  him, 

said  the  other ;  "  in  Virgil ;  variabile  it   was   not   in   the   Virgilian   style.' 

semper  femina"    "  You  forget,"  said  Life,  i.  272. 

the    opponent ;    "  it    is    variant    et  Johnson  or  Warton  misquoted  the 

imitabile? '  Warton's  Pope's  Works,  line.     It  stands  : — 

ed.  1822,  i.  159.     It  is  not  unlikely  '  Mittit  aromaticas   vallis    Saronica 

that  the  two  disputants  were  either  nubes.' 

Dr.  Warton  himself  or  his  brother,  Husbands'    Miscellany,    p.    112, 

and  Burke.  and  Johnson's  Works,  i.  156. 

'As   we   were   leaving    Pembroke  '  Life,    iv.    143,   n.  2;    Works,  i. 

College'    (writes   Thomas    Warton)  165. 

*  Johnson  said,   "  Here   I   translated  2  Ante,  p.  197. 

Pope's  Messiah.  Which  do  you  think  3  Life,  v.  155. 

is  the  best  line  in  it?— My  own  fa-  4  Ib.  v.  158;  Letters,  i.  284. 

vourite  is,  5  Ante,  p.  372. 

'  Vallis  aromaticas  fundit  Saronica  6  Ante,  p.  386. 
nubes?  " 

as 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  461 

as  Johnson's.  '  Let  us,'  he  says, '  leave  it  to  the  Gods  to  judge 
what  is  fittest  for  us.  Man  is  dearer  to  his  Creator  than  to 
himself.  If  we  must  pray  for  special  favour,  let  it  be  for  a  sound 
mind  in  a  sound  body.  Let  us  pray  for  fortitude,  that  we  may 
think  the  labours  of  Hercules  and  all  his  sufferings  preferable  to 
a  life  of  luxury  and  the  soft  repose  of  SARDANAPALUS.  This  is 
a  blessing  within  the  reach  of  every  man ;  this  we  can  give 
ourselves.  It  is  virtue,  and  virtue  only,  that  can  make  us 
happy.'  In  the  translation  the  zeal  of  the  Christian  conspired 
with  the  warmth  and  energy  of  the  poet;  but  Juvenal  is  not 
eclipsed  T.  For  the  various  characters  in  the  original  the  reader 
is  pleased,  in  the  English  poem,  to  meet  with  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
Buckingham  stabbed  by  Felton,  Lord  Strafford,  Clarendon, 
Charles  XII.  of  Sweden;  and  for  Tully  and  Demosthenes, 
Lydiat,  Galileo,  and  Archbishop  Laud.  It  is  owing  to  Johnson's 
delight  in  biography  that  the  name  of  LYDIAT  is  called  forth 
from  obscurity.  It  may,  therefore,  not  be  useless  to  tell,  that 
LYDIAT  was  a  learned  divine  and  mathematician  in  the  beginning 
of  the  last  century.  He  attacked  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle  and 
Scaliger,  and  wrote  a  number  of  sermons  on  the  harmony  of  the 
Evangelists.  With  all  his  merit,  he  lay  in  the  prison  of  Bocardo 
at  Oxford,  till  Bishop  Usher,  Laud,  and  others,  paid  his  debts. 
He  petitioned  Charles  I.  to  be  sent  to  Ethiopia  to  procure 
manuscripts.  Having  spoken  in  favour  of  monarchy  and 
bishops,  he  was  plundered  by  the  Puritans,  and  twice  carried 
away  a  prisoner  from  his  rectory.  He  died  very  poor  in  1646 2. 

The  Tragedy  of  Irene 3  is  founded  on  a  passage  in  KNOLLES'S 

1  « It  is   in   truth  not  easy  to  say  literary  life  must  be  allowed  to  be 

whether   the   palm   belongs    to    the  superior  to  Juvenal's  lamentation  over 

ancient  or  to  the  modern  poet.  ...  It  the  fate  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero.' 

must  be  owned  that  in  the  concluding  Macaulay's  Misc.    Works,  ed.  1871, 

passage  the    Christian  moralist  has  p.  379- 

not  made  the  most  of  his  advantages,  2  Murphy  follows  the  account  given 

and  has  fallen  decidedly  short  of  the  as  a  note  in  the  Supplement  to  the 

sublimity  of  his  Pagan  model.     On  Gentleman's    Magazine    for     1748, 

the  other  hand,  Juvenal's   Hannibal  quoted  in  the  Life,  i.  194,  n.  2. 

must    yield    to   Johnson's   Charles;  3  'A    manuscript    page    of    Mac- 

and  Johnson's  vigorous  and  pathetic  aulay's  History,  thickly  scored  with 

enumeration  of   the    miseries   of   a  dashes  and  erasures— it  is  the  passage 

History 


462  Essay  on 


History  of  the  Turks ;  an  author  highly  commended  in  the 
Rambler,  N°.  12,2, x.  An  incident  in  the  Life  of  Mahomet  the 
Great,  first  emperor  of  the  Turks,  is  the  hinge  on  which  the  fable 
is  made  to  move.  The  substance  of  the  story  is  shortly  this. 
In  1453  Mahomet  laid  siege  to  Constantinople,  and,  having 
reduced  the  place,  became  enamoured  of  a  fair  Greek,  whose 
name  was  IRENE.  The  sultan  invited  her  to  embrace  the  law  of 
the  Prophet,  and  to  grace  his  throne.  Enraged  at  this  intended 
marriage,  the  Janizaries  formed  a  conspiracy  to  dethrone  the 
emperor.  To  avert  the  impending  danger,  Mahomet,  in  a  full 
assembly  of  the  grandees, '  Catching  with  one  hand,'  as  KNOLLES 
relates  it,  '  the  fair  Greek  by  the  hair  of  her  head,  and  drawing 
his  falchion  with  the  other,  he,  at  one  blow,  struck  off  her  head, 
to  the  great  terror  of  them  all ;  and,  having  so  done,  said  unto 
them,  Now,  by  this,  judge  whether  your  emperor  is  able  to 
bridle  his  affections  or  not2.'  The  story  is  simple,  and  it 
remained  for  the  author  to  amplify  it  with  proper  episodes,  and 
give  it  complication  and  variety.  The  catastrophe  is  changed, 
and  horror  gives  place  to  terror  and  pity.  But,  after  all,  the 
fable  is  cold  and  languid.  There  is  not,  throughout  the  piece, 
a  single  situation  to  excite  curiosity,  and  raise  a  conflict  of 
/passions.  The  diction  is  nervous,  rich,  and  elegant ;  but  splendid 
/  language,  and  melodious  numbers,  will  make  a  fine  poem,  not 
/  a  tragedy.  The  sentiments  are  beautiful,  always  happily  ex- 
\  pressed,  but  seldom  appropriated  to  the  character,  and  generally 
\too  philosophic.  What  Johnson  has  said  of  the  Tragedy  of 
Cato  may  be  applied  to  Irene :  '  it  is  rather  a  poem  in  dialogue 

in  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  where  Sir  the  note-book  of  Locke ;  and  the 
Hans  Sloane  is  mentioned  as  "  the  autographs  of  Samuel  Johnson's 
founder  of  the  magnificent  museum  Irene,  and  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of 
which  is  one  of  the  glories  of  our  Queens ;  and  the  rough  copy  of  the 
country" — is  preserved  at  that  mu-  translation  of  the  Iliad,  written,  as 
seum  in  a  cabinet,  which  may  truly  Pope  loved  to  write,  on  the  margin 
be  called  the  place  of  honour.  ...  of  frayed  letters  and  the  backs  of 
There  may  be  seen  Nelson's  hasty  tattered  envelopes .'  Trevelyan's  Mac- 
sketch  of  the  line  of  battle  at  the  au/ay,  ed.  1877,  ii.  396. 
Nile ;  and  the  sheet  of  paper  on  *  Life,  i.  100. 

which     Wellington     computed     the  2  The     General    History    of   the 

strength    of   the   cavalry  regiments  Turkes,    by    Richard    Knolles,    ed. 

that  were  to  fight  at  Waterloo ;  and  1603,  p.  353. 

than 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  463 

than  a  drama ;  rather  a  succession  of  just  sentiments  in  elegant 
language,  than  a  representation  of  natural  affections.  .  .  .  Nothing 
here  "  excites  or  assuages  emotion."  .  .  .  The  events  are  expected 
without  solicitude,  and  are  remembered  without  joy  or  sorrow. 
Of  the  agents  we  have  no  care  ;  we  consider  not  what  they  are 
doing,  or  what  they  are  suffering  ;  we  wish  only  to  know  what 
they  have  to  say.  ...  It  is  unaffecting  elegance,  and  chill  philo 
sophy  V  The  following  speech,  in  the  mouth  of  a  Turk,  who  is 
supposed  to  have  heard  of  the  British  constitution,  has  been 
often  selected  from  the  numberless  beauties  with  which  IRENE 
abounds : 

'  If  there  be  any  land,  as  fame  reports, 

Where  common  laws  restrain  the  prince  and  subject; 

A  happy  land,  where  circulating  pow'r 

Flows  through  each  member  of  th'  embodied  state  ; 

Sure,  not  unconscious  of  the  mighty  blessing, 

Her  grateful  sons  shine  bright  with  ev'ry  virtue; 

Untainted  with  the  LUST  OF  INNOVATION2; 

Sure  all  unite  to  hold  her  league  of  rule 

Unbroken  as  the  sacred  chain  of  nature, 

That  links  the  jarring  elements  in  peace3.' 

These  are  British  sentiments.  Above  forty  years  ago  they 
found  an  echo  in  the  breast  of  applauding  audiences,  and  to  this 
hour  they  are  the  voice  of  the  people,  in  defiance  of  the  meta 
physics  and  the  new  lights  of  certain  politicians,  who  would  gladly 
find  their  private  advantage  in  the  disasters  of  their  country 4 ; 
a  race  of  men,  quibus  nulla  ex  honesto  spes. 

The  Prologue  to  Irene  is  written  with  elegance,  and,  in  a 
peculiar  strain,  shews  the  literary  pride  and  lofty  spirit  of  the 
author5.  The  Epilogue,  we  are  told  in  a  late  publication,  was 
written  by  Sir  William  Young.  This  is  a  new  discovery,  but 

'   Works,  vii.  456.  4  Perhaps  Priestley  is  one  of  these 

«  Cato  is  a  fine  dialogue  on  liberty  politicians.  See  Life,  iv.  238,  n.  I 
and  the  love  of  one's  country.'  War-  for  Boswell's  attack  on  his  doctrine 
ton's  Essay  on  Pope,  ed.  1762,  i.  of  Philosophical  Necessity  The 

metaphysics  and  the  new  lights  may 

"  For '  the  fury  of  innovation '  from     be  a  reference  to  Hudibras  and  his 
which  '  Tyburn  itself  is  not  safe'  see      squire  Ralph. 
ante,  p.  349,  n.  4.  *  Life>  '•  I96' 

3  Irene.  Act  i.  sc.  2. 

by 


464 


Essay  on 


by  no  means  probable  T.  When  the  appendages  to  a  Dramatic 
Performance  are  not  assigned  to  a  friend,  or  an  unknown  hand, 
or  a  person  of  fashion,  they  are  always  supposed  to  be  written 
by  the  author  of  the  Play.  It  is  to  be  wished,  however,  that  the 
Epilogue  in  question  could  be  transferred  to  any  other  writer. 
It  is  the  worst  Jeu  d' Esprit  that  ever  fell  from  Johnson's  pen 2. 

An  account  of  the  various  pieces  contained  in  this  edition, 
such  as  miscellaneous  tracts,  and  philological  dissertations,  would 
lead  beyond  the  intended  limits  of  this  essay.  It  will  suffice  to 
say,  that  they  are  the  productions  of  a  man  who  never  wanted 
decorations  of  language,  and  always  taught  his  reader  to  think. 
The  life  of  the  late  king  of  Prussia,  as  far  as  it  extends 3,  is  a 
model  of  the  biographical  style.  The  Review  of  THE  ORIGIN 
OF  EVIL  was,  perhaps,  written  with  asperity ;  but  the  angry 
epitaph,  which  it  provoked  from  SOAME  JENYNS,  was  an  ill- 
timed  resentment,  unworthy  of  the  genius  of  that  amiable 
author 4. 


1  Boswell  in  the  first   edition   of 
the  Life  says  : — '  The  Epilogue  was 
written  by  Sir  William  Yonge.'    To 
the    second   edition    he    added,   no 
doubt   in    answer    to    Murphy,   '  as 
Johnson   informed   me.'     Ib.  i.   197, 
n.  4. 

2  The  wonder  is  that  Johnson  ac 
cepted  this  Epilogue,  which  is  a  little 
coarse  and  a  little  profane.    Chester 
field    writes    of   Yonge    as    a  man 
'with    a    most   sullied,   not   to    say 
blasted  character.'     Letters,  iv.  53. 

3  It  ends  with  the  year  1745.     It 
was  published  in  1756  in  The  Lite 
rary  Magazine.  Life,  i.  308  ;    Works, 
vi.   435.     Carlyle,   in  his  Frederick 
the  Great  (ed.  1862,  iii.  276),  has  the 
following  about  the  English  Lives  of 
that  king:— 'One  Dilworth,  an  in 
nocent  English  soul,  writing  on  the 
spot  some  years  after  Voltaire,  has 
this    useful    passage : — '*  It    is    the 
great  failing  of  a  strong  imagination 
to  catch  greedily  at  wonders.    Vol 


taire  was  misinformed,  and  would 
perhaps  learn  by  a  second  inquiry 
a  truth  less  amusing  and  splendid. 
A  Contribution  was  by  News- writers, 
upon  their  own  authority,  fruitlessly 
proposed.  It  ended  in  nothing :  the 
Parliament  voted  a  supply."  .  .  . 
"  Fruitlessly  by  News-writers  on  their 
own  authority,"  that  is  the  sad  fact.' 
In  a  footnote  Carlyle  adds:— 'A 
poor  little  Book,  one  of  many  coming 
out  on  that  subject  just  then,  which 
contains,  if  available  now,  the  above 
sentence  and  no  more.  Indeed  its 
brethren,  one  of  them  by  Samuel 
Johnson  (impransus,  the  imprisoned 
giant)  do  not  even  contain  that,  and 
have  gone  wholly  to  zero.' 

It  is  strange  Carlyle  did  not  see 
Johnson's  hand  in  the  one  sentence. 
Dilworth  stole  it  from  him,  and 
slightly  spoilt  it  in  the  stealing.  See 
Works,  vi.  455  ;  Life,  i.  498,  n.  4. 

4  Life,  i.  316  ;  Gentleman's  Maga 
zine,  1786,  pp.  428,  696. 

The 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  465 

Trie  Rambler  may  be  considered  as  Johnson's  great  work.  It 
w,as  the  basis  of  that  high  reputation  which  went  on  increasing 
ta  the  end  of  his  days.  The  circulation  of  those  periodical 
essays  was  not,  at  first,  equal  to  their  merit.  They  had  not,  like 
the  Spectators,  the  art  of  charming  by  variety ;  and  indeed  how 
could  it  be  expected?  The  wits  of  queen  Anne's  reign  sent 
their  contributions  to  the  Spectator ;  and  Johnson  stood  alone. 
A  stage-coach,  says  Sir  Richard  Steele,  must  go  forward  on 
stated  days,  whether  there  are  passengers  or  not x.  So  it  was 
with  the  Rambler,  every  Tuesday  and  Saturday,  for  two  years. 
Itf  this  collection  Johnson  is  the  great  moral  teacher  of  his 
/countrymen  ;  his  essays  form  a  body  of  ethics  ;  the  observations 
on  life  and  manners  are  acute  and  instructive ;  and  the  papers, 
Wofessedly  critical,  serve  to  promote  the  cause  of  literature.  It 
must,  however,  be  acknowledged,  that  a  settled  gloom  hangs 
over  the  author's  mind  ;  and  all  the  essays,  except  eight  or  ten  2, 
coming  from  the  same  fountain-head,  no  wonder  that  they  have 
the  raciness  of  the  soil  from  which  they  sprung.  Of  this  uni 
formity  Johnson  was  sensible.  He  used  to  say,  that  if  he  had 
joined  a  friend  or  two,  who  would  have  been  able  to  intermix 
papers  of  a  sprightly  turn,  the  collection  would  have  been  more 
miscellaneous,  and,  by  consequence,  more  agreeable  to  the 
generality  of  readers.  This  he  used  to  illustrate  by  repeating 
two  beautiful  stanzas  from  his  own  Ode  to  Cave,  or  Sylvanus 

Non  ulla  Musis  pagina  gratior, 
Quam  quas  severis  ludicra  jungere 
Novit,  fatigatamque  nugis 

Utilibus  recreare  mentem. 
Texente  nymphis  serta  Lycoride, 
Rosae  ruborem  sic  viola  adjuvat 

Immista,  sic  Iris  refulget  /^, 

^thereis  variata  fucis. 

1  '  When  a  man  has  engaged  to  number  of  words,  whether  there  be 

keep   a   stage-coach  he  is  obliged,  any  news  in  it  or  not.     They  may 

whether  he  has  passengers  or  not,  to  likewise  be  compared   to  a   stage- 

set  out.    Thus  it  fares  with  us  weekly  coach,  which  performs  constantly  the 

historians.'     The  Tatter,  No.  12.  same  course,  empty  as  well  as  full.' 

'  Such    histories   as  these    do    in  Tom  Jones,  bk.  ii.  c.  I. 

reality  very  much  resemble  a  news-  2  Ante,  p.  392. 

paper,  which  consists  of  just  the  same  3  Life,  i.  113  ',  ante,  p.  377- 

VOL.  I.                                              H  h                                                           It 


466 


Essay  on 


It  is  remarkable,  that  the  pomp  of  diction,  which  has  been 
objected  to  Johnson,  was  first  assumed  in  the  Rambler.  His 
Dictionary  was  going  on  at  the  same  time,  and,  in  the  course  of 
that  work,  as  he  grew  familiar  with  technical  and  scholastic 
words,  he  thought  that  the  bulk  of  his  readers  were  equally 
learned  ;  or  at  least  would  admire  the  splendour  and  dignity  of 
the  style T.  And  yet  it  is  well  known,  that  he  praised  in  Cowley 
the  ease  and  unaffected  structure  of  the  sentences2.  Cowley 
may  be  placed  at  the  head  of  those  who  cultivated  a  clear  and 
natural  style.  Dryden 3,  Tillotson  4,  and  Sir  William  Temple 5, 
followed.  Addison,  Swift,  and  Pope,  with  more  correctness, 
carried  our  language  well  nigh  to  perfection6.  Of  Addison, 


1  Life,  1.217. 

2  'No  author  ever  kept  his  verse 
and  his  prose  at  a  greater  distance 
from  each  other.     His  thoughts  are 
natural,  and  his  style  has  a  smooth 
and  placid  equability  which  has  never 
yet  obtained  its  due  commendation. 
Nothing  is    far-sought  or   hard-la 
boured.'     Works,  vii.  55. 

3  'Dryden    does    not    appear    to 
have  any  art  other  than  that  of  ex 
pressing  with  clearness  what  he  thinks 
with  vigour.      His  style   could  not 
easily  be   imitated,  either  seriously 
or    ludicrously ;    for   being    always 
equable  and    always   varied   it   has 
no  prominent  or  discriminative  char 
acters.'     Ib.  vii.  307. 

4  'JOHNSON.  I  should  not  advise 
a  preacher  at   this   day  to   imitate 
Tillotson's    style:     though    I    don't 
know ;    I  should  be  cautious  of  ob 
jecting  to  what  has  been  applauded 
by  so  many  suffrages.'    Life,  iii.  247. 
'  There  is   nothing  peculiar    to   the 
language    of  Archbishop    Tillotson, 
but  his  manner  of  writing  is  inimit 
able  ;   for  one  who  reads  him  won 
ders  why  he  himself  did  not  think 
and  speak  it  in  that  very  manner.' 
Goldsmith,  The  Bee,  Nov.  24,  1759. 

5  '  Temple  wrote  always  like  a  man 
of  sense  and  a  gentleman ;  and  his 


style  is  the  model  by  which  the  best 
prose  writers  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne  formed  theirs.'  Goldsmith,  The 
Bee,  Nov.  24,  1759. 

'  I  have  heard,'  writes  Dr.  Warton, 
'  that,  among  works  of  prose,  Pope 
was  most  fond  of  the  second  part  of 
Sir  William  Temple's  Miscellanies' 
Warton's  Pope's  Works,  i.  Preface, 

P.  3- 

Boswell  recorded  in  his  note-book : 
'  Dr.  Johnson  told  me  that  what  made 
him  first  think  of  forming  his  style  as 
we  find  it  was  reading  Sir  William 
Temple,  and  of  about  twenty  lines 
by  Chambers  of  a  proposal  for  his 
Dictionary.'  Morrison  Autographs, 
2nd  Series,  i.  372.  See  also  Life,  i. 
218,  and  iii.  257,  where  he  says, 
'Temple  was  the  first  writer  who 
gave  cadence  to  English  prose.' 
Perhaps  he  had  in  mind  Boileau's 
lines — 

'Enfin   Malherbe  vint,   et,  le  pre 
mier  en  France, 

Fit  sentir  dans  les  vers  une  juste 
cadence.' 
L'Art  pottique,  c.  i. 

6  For  Johnson's  estimate  of  Addi- 
son's  style  see  Life,  i.  225  ;  Works, 
vii.  472 ;  of  Swift's,  Life,  ii.  191  ; 
Works,  viii.  220 ;  of  Pope's,  Ib. 
viii.  324. 

Johnson 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  467 

Johnson  was  used  to  say,  He  is  the  Raphael  of  Essay  Writers. 
How  he  differed  so  widely  from  such  elegant  models  is  a  problem 
not  to  be  solved,  unless  it  be  true  that  he  took  an  early  tincture 
from  the  writers  of  the  last  century,  particularly  Sir  Thomas 
Browne '.  Hence  the  peculiarities  of  his  style,  new  combinations, 
sentences  of  an  unusual  structure,  and  words  derived  from  the 
learned  languages.  His  own  account  of  the  matter  is,  *  When 
common  words  were  less  pleasing  to  the  ear,  or  less  distinct  in 
their  signification,  I  have  familiarized  the  terms  of  philosophy,  by 
applying  them  to  popular  ideas  V  But  he  forgot  the  observation 
of  Dryden :  If  too  many  foreign  words  are  poured  in  upon  us,  it 
looks  as  if  they  were  designed,  not  to  assist  the  natives^  but  to 
conquer  them  3.  There  is,  it  must  be  admitted,  a  swell  of  language, 
o/ten  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  sentiment 4 ;  but  there  is,  in 
general,  a  fullness  of  mind,  and  the  thought  seems  to  expand 
\yith  the  sound  of  the  words.  Determined  to  discard  colloquial 
barbarisms  and  licentious  idioms,  he  forgot  the  elegant  simplicity 
that  distinguishes  the  writings  of  Addison.  He  had  what  Locke 
calls  a  round-about  view  of  his  subject 5 ;  and,  though  he  was 
never  tainted,  like  many  modern  wits,  with  the  ambition  of 
shining  in  paradox6,  he  may  be  fairly  called  an  ORIGINAL 
THINKER.  His  reading  was  extensive.  He  treasured  in  his 
mind  whatever  was  worthy  of  notice,  but  he  added  to  it  from 
his  own  meditation.  He  collected,  qua  reconderet,  atictaque 
promeret1.  Addison  was  not  so  profound  a  thinker.  He  was 
born  to  write,  converse,  and  live  with  ease8-,  and  he  found  an 
early  patron  in  Lord  Somers9.  He  depended,  however,  more 

1  Life,  i.  221.  tion.'     Locke,  quoted  in  Johnson's 

2  Ib.  i.  218  ;  Rambler,  No.  208.  Dictionary. 

3  Dryden's    Works,  ed.  1808,  xiv.          6  Life,  iii.  376,  n.  I. 
223.  7  Tacitus,  Annals,  i.  69. 

4  Francis    Horner,    speaking    of  8  Pope,  Prol  Sat.,  1.  196. 
Johnson's    style     in     the    Rambler,  9  '  King  William  had  no  regard  to 
says  :_« The  rhythm  dictates  what  elegance  or  literature ;  his  study  was 
is  said.'     Horner's  Memoirs,  ii.  454-  only  war ;  yet  by  a  choice  of  minis- 

5  '  Those  sincerely  follow  reason,  ters  whose  disposition  was  very  dif- 
but  for  want  of  having  large,  sound,  ferent  from    his   own    he    procured 
roundabout   sense,   have  not  a   full  without  intention  a  very  liberal  pa- 
view  of  all  that  relates  to  the  ques-  tronage    to    poetry.      Addison    was 

H  h  2  upon 


468  Essay  on 


upon  a  fine  taste,  than  the  vigour  of  his  mind.  His  Latin  Poetry 
shews,  that  he  relished,  with  a  just  selection,  all  the  refined  and 
delicate  beauties  of  the  Roman  classics ;  and  when  he  cultivated 
hi/  native  language,  no  wonder  that  he  formed  that  graceful 
tyle,  which  has  been  so  justly  admired ;  simple,  yet  elegant ; 
lorned,  yet  never  over- wrought ;  rich  in  allusion,  yet  pure  and 
^rspicuous ;  correct,  without  labour,  and,  though  sometimes 
leficient  in  strength,  yet  always  musical.  His  essays,  in  general, 
are  on  the  surface  of  life ;  if  ever  original,  it  was  in  pieces  of 
humour.  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  and  the  Tory  Fox-hunter  T, 
nped  not  to  be  mentioned.  Johnson  had  a  fund  of  humour,  but 
fle  did  not  know  it 2,  nor  was  he  willing  to  descend  to  the  familiar 
idiom  and  the  variety  of  diction  which  that  mode  of  composition 
required.  The  letter,  in  the  Rambler,  N°.  12,  from  a  young  girl 
that  wants  a  place,  will  illustrate  this  observation.  Addison 
possessed  an  unclouded  imagination,  alive  to  the  first  objects  of 
nature  and  of  art.  He  reaches  the  sublime  without  any  apparent 
effort.  When  he  tells  us,  *  If  we  consider  the  fixed  stars  as  so 
many  vast  oceans  of  flame,  that  are  each  of  them  attended  with 
a  different  set  of  planets ;  and  still  discover  new  firmaments  and 
new  lights,  that  are  sunk  farther  in  those  unfathomable  depths 
of  sether,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  by  the  strongest  of  our  telescopes, 
we  are  lost  in  such  a  labyrinth  of  suns  and  world,  and  confounded 
with  the  immensity  and  magnificence  of  nature  ; '  the  ease,  with 
which  this  passage  rises  to  unaffected  grandeur,  is  the  secret 
charm  that  captivates  the  reader3.  Johnson  is  always  lofty;  he 
seems,  to  use  Dryden's  phrase,  to  be  o'er-inform'd  with  meaning4, 
and  his  words  do  not  appear  to  himself  adequate  to  his  concep 
tion.  He  moves  in  state,  and  his  periods  are  always  harmonious. 
His  Oriental  Tales  are  in  the  true  style  of  Eastern  magnificence 5, 

caressed  both  by  Somers  and  Mon-  Murphy  made    five    errors  which  I 

tague.'    Johnson's  Works,  vii.  423.  have  corrected. 

Addison,  in   The  Freeholder,  No.  4  Murphy,  I  suppose,  refers  to  the 

39,  finely  describes  Somers's   char-  line  in  Absalom  and  Achitophel — 

acter.  'And   o'er-inform'd    the    tenement 

1  The  Freeholder,  Nos.  22,  44,  47.  of  clay.' 

2  Ante,  pp.  287,  452.  5  The  Rambler,  Nos.  120,  190,  204, 

3  In  quoting  this  passage,  which  is  205;     Idler,    Nos.    75,    99.      Percy 
found  in    The  Spectator,    No.  420,  '  heard  Johnson  say  that  he  thought 

and 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  469 

and  yet  none  of  them  are  so  much  admired  as  the  Visions  of 
Mirza  *.  In  matters  of  criticism,  Johnson  is  never  the  echo  of 
preceding  writers.  He  thinks  and  decides  for  himself.  If  we 
except  the  Essays  on  the  Pleasures  of  Imagination,  Addison 
cannot  be  called  a  philosophical  critic 2.  His  moral  Essays  are 
beautiful ;  but  in  that  province  nothing  can  exceed  the  Rambler, 
though  Johnson  used  to  say,  that  the  Essay  on  The  burthens  of 
mankind  (in  the  Spectator,  N°.  558)  was  the  most  exquisite  he 
had  ever  read.  Talking  of  himself,  Johnson  said,  *  Topham 
Beauclerk  has  wit,  and  every  thing  comes  from  him  with  ease ; 
but  when  I  say  a  good  thing,  I  seem  to  labour  V  When  we 
compare  him  with  Addison,  the  contrast  is  still  stronger. 
Addison  lends  grace  and  ornament  to  truth  ;  Johnson  gives  it 
force  and  energy.  Addison  makes  virtue  amiable4;  Johnson 
represents  it  as  an  awful  duty.  Addison  insinuates  himself  with 
an  air  of  modesty ;  Johnson  commands  like  a  dictator 5 ;  but  a 
dictator  in  his  splendid  robes,  not  labouring  at  the  plough. 
Addison  is  the  Jupiter  of  Virgil,  with  placid  serenity  talking  to 

Venus:  'Vultu,  quo  ccelum  tempestatesque  serenatV 

The  Vision  of  Theodore  the  Hermit  3  Life,  v.  76. 

was  the  best  thing  he  ever  wrote.'  4  '  Addison  has  dissipated  the  pre- 

Life,  i.  192.  judice  that  had  long  connected  gaiety 

1  Spectator ^Q.  159.  Unfortunately  with  vice,  and  easiness  of  manners 

Addison's    promise   was    never   ful-      with  laxity  of  principles All  the 

filled,  and  of  'The  Visions  of  Mir-  enchantment  of  fancy  and  all  the 

zah '  he  gave  but  one.  cogency  of  argument  are  employed 

2  Ib.  Nos.  411-421.    'Addison  is  to  recommend  to  the  reader  his  real 
now  to  be  considered  as  a  critick ;  interest,  the  care    of   pleasing    the 
a  name  which  the  present  generation  author  of  his  being.  . . .  Truth  wears 
is  scarcely  willing  to  allow  him.    His  a  thousand   dresses,   and  in    all  is 
criticism  is  condemned  as  tentative  pleasing.'     Works,  vii.  451,  472. 

or  experimental  rather  than  scien-  s  'As   it  has    been  my  principal 

tifick ;   and  he  is  considered  as  de-  design  to  inculcate  wisdom  or  piety, 

ciding  by  taste  rather  than  by  prin-  I  have  allotted  few  papers  to  the  idle 

ciples.'     Works,   vii.   469.     Johnson  sports   of  imagination.  .  .  .  Scarcely 

was    referring    to    Warburton,   who  any  man   is  so  steadily  serious  as 

said  that  'Addison  was  but  an  or-  not  to  complain    that   the  severity 

dinary  poet  and  a  worse  critic,'  and  of  dictatorial   instruction   has  been 

to  Hurd,  who  condemned  his  want  too     seldom     relieved.'       Rambler, 

of  the  '  chastised  philosophical  spirit.'  No.  208. 

Warton's   Pope's   Works,  ed.    1822,  6  Aeneid,  i.  255. 

i.  230;  iv.  J79- 

Johnson 


470  Essay  on 


Johnson  is  JUPITER  TONANS :  he  darts  his  lightning,  and  rolls 
his  thunder,  in  the  cause  of  virtue  and  piety.  The  language 
seems  to  fall  short  of  his  ideas  ;  he  pours  along,  familiarizing  the 
terms  of  philosophy  x,  with  bold  inversions,  and  sonorous  periods ; 
but  we  may  apply  to  him  what  Pope  has  said  of  Homer :  '  It  is 
the  sentiment  that  swells  and  fills  out  the  diction,  which  rises 
with  it,  and  forms  itself  about  it ;  ....  like  glass  in  the  furnace, 
which  grows  to  a  greater  magnitude,  ....  as  the  breath  within 
is  more  powerful,  and  the  heat  more  intense  2.' 

It  is  not  the  design  of  this  comparison  to  decide  between  those 
two  eminent  writers.  In  matters  of  taste  every  reader  will 
chuse  for  himself3.  Johnson  is  always  profound,  and  of  course 
gives  the  fatigue  of  thinking.  Addison  charms  while  he  instructs  ; 
and  writing,  as  he  always  does,  a  pure,  an  elegant,  and  idiomatic 
style,  he  may  be  pronounced  the  safest  model  for  imitation. 

The  essays  written  by  Johnson  in  the  Adventurer  may  be 
called  a  continuation  of  the  Rambler 4.  The  IDLER,  in  order  to 
be  consistent  with  the  assumed  character,  is  written  with  abated 
vigour,  in  a  style  of  ease  and  unlaboured  elegance.  It  is  the 
Odyssey  after  the  Iliad 5.  Intense  thinking  would  not  become 
the  IDLER.  The  first  number  presents  a  well- drawn  portrait  of 

1  '  When  common  words  were  less  the  style  of  Addison  and  Johnson, 
pleasing  to  the  ear,  or  less  distinct  in  and  to  depreciate,  I  think  very  un- 
their   signification,    I  have  familiar-  justly,  the  style  of  Addison  as  nerve- 
ized  the  terms  of  philosophy  by  ap-  less  and  feeble,  because  it  has  not  the 
plying  them  to  popular  ideas.'   Ram-  strength  and  energy  of  that  of  John- 
bler,  No.  208.  son.'     Life,  i.  224.     Macaulay  wrote 

2  Pope's  Homer's  Iliad,  ed.  1760,  in  1856: — 'On  the  question  of  pre- 
i.  Preface,  p.  20.  cedence  between  Addison  and  John- 

3  Johnson  wrote  in  1781  : — 'Who-  son,  a  question  which  seventy  years 
ever  wishes  to    attain    an    English  ago   was    much    disputed,   posterity 
style,  familiar  but  not  coarse,  and  ele-  has  pronounced  a  decision  from  which 
gant  but  not  ostentatious,  must  give  there  is  no  appeal.3     Misc.   Works, 
his  days  and  nights  to  the  volumes  ed.  1871,  p.  381. 

of  Addison.'  Works,  vii.  473.  Haw-  4  Life,  i.  255. 
kins,  in  1787  (p.  270),  said: — 'The  5  ' The  Idler  may  be  described  as 
characteristics  of  Mr.  Addison's  style  a  second  part  of  the  Rambler,  some- 
are  feebleness  and  inanity.'  Four  what  livelier  and  somewhat  weaker 
years  later  Boswell  wrote : — '  It  has  than  the  first  part.'  Macaulay's  Misc. 
of  late  been  the  fashion  to  compare  Works,  p.  383. 

an 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  471 

an  Idler,  and  from  that  character  no  deviation  could  be  made. 
Accordingly,  Johnson  forgets  his  austere  manner,  and  plays  us 
into  sense.  He  still  continues  his  lectures  on  human  life,  but  he 
adverts  to  common  occurrences,  and  is  often  content  with  the 
topic  of  the  day.  An  advertisement  in  the  beginning  of  the  first 
volume  informs  us,  that  twelve  entire  Essays  were  a  contribution 
from  different  hands  *.  One  of  these,  N°.  33,  is  the  journal  of 
a  Senior  Fellow  at  Cambridge,  but,  as  Johnson,  being  himself  an 
original  thinker,  always  revolted  from  servile  imitation,  he  has 
printed  the  piece,  with  an  apology,  importing  that  the  journal  of 
a  citizen  in  the  Spectator  almost  precluded  the  attempt  of  any 
subsequent  writer  2.  This  account  of  the  Idler  may  be  closed, 
after  observing,  that  the  author's  mother  being  buried  on  the 
23d  of  January  1759,  there  is  an  admirable  paper,  occasioned  by 
that  event,  on  Saturday  the  27th  of  the  same  month,  N°.  41  3. 
The  reader,  if  he  pleases,  may  compare  it  with  another  fine  paper 
in  the  Rambler,  N°.  54,  on  the  conviction  that  rushes  on  the 
mind  at  the  bed  of  a  dying  friend  4. 

4  Rasselas/  says  Sir  John  Hawkins,  *  is  a  specimen  of  our 
language  scarcely  to  be  paralleled  ;  it  is  written  in  a  style  refined 
to  a  degree  of  t 'mmaculate  purity,  and  displays  the  whole  force  of 
turgid  eloquence 5.'  One  cannot  but  smile  at  this  encomium. 
Rasselas  is  undoubtedly  both  elegant  and  sublime.  It  is  a  view 
of  human  life,  displayed,  it  must  be  owned,  in  gloomy  colours. 
The  author's  natural  melancholy,  depressed,  at  the  time,  by  the 
approaching  dissolution  of  his  mother,  darkened  the  picture6. 
A  tale,  that  should  keep  curiosity  awake  by  the  artifice  of  un 
expected  incidents,  was  not  the  design  of  a  mind  pregnant  with 
better  things.  He,  who  reads  the  heads  of  the  chapters,  will 
find,  that  it  is  not  a  course  of  adventures  that  invites  him  forward, 
but  a  discussion  of  interesting  questions ;  Reflections  on  Human 
Life ;  the  History  of  Imlac,  the  Man  of  Learning  ;  a  Dissertation 
upon  Poetry ;  the  Character  of  a  wise  and  happy  Man,  who  dis- 

1  Life,  i.  330.  3  Life,  i.  331.  4  Id.  i.  214. 

2  Spectator,  No.  317.     The  author  5  Hawkins,  p.  368. 
of  the  Journal    in    the    Idler   was  *  Ante,  p.  415. 
Thomas  Warton. 

courses 


472  Essay  on 


courses  with  energy  on  the  government  of  the  passions,  and  on 
a  sudden,  when  Death  deprives  him  of  his  daughter,  forgets  all 
his  maxims  of  wisdom  and  the  eloquence  that  adorned  them, 
yielding  to  the  stroke  of  affliction  with  all  the  vehemence  of  the 
bitterest  anguish.  It  is  by  pictures  of  life,  and  profound  moral 
reflection,  that  expectation  is  engaged  and  gratified  throughout 
the  work.  The  History  of  the  Mad  Astronomer,  who  imagines 
that,  for  five  years,  he  possessed  the  regulation  of  the  weather, 
and  that  the  sun  passed  from  tropic  to  tropic  by  his  direction, 
represents  in  striking  colours  the  sad  effects  of  a  distempered 
imagination.  It  becomes  the  more  affecting,  when  we  recollect 
that  it  proceeds  from  one,  who  lived  in  fear  of  the  same  dreadful 
visitation  ;  from  one  who  says  emphatically,  *  Of  the  uncertainties 
of  our  present  state,  the  most  dreadful  and  alarming  is  the  un 
certain  continuance  of  reason  V  The  enquiry  into  the  cause  of 
madness,  and  the  dangerous  prevalence  of  imagination,  till,  in 
time,  some  particular  train  of  ideas  fixes  the  attention,  and  the 
mind  recurs  constantly  to  the  favourite  conception,  is  carried  on 
in  a  strain  of  acute  observation ;  but  it  leaves  us  room  to  think, 
that  the  author  was  transcribing  from  his  own  apprehensions. 
The  discourse  on  the  nature  of  the  soul  gives  us  all  that  philo 
sophy  knows,  not  without  a  tincture  of  superstition2.  It  is 
remarkable  that  the  vanity  of  human  pursuits  was,  about  the 
same  time,  the  subject  that  employed  both  Johnson  and  Voltaire 3 ; 
but  Candide  is  the  work  of  a  lively  imagination,  and  Rasselas, 
with  all  its  splendour  of  eloquence,  exhibits  a  gloomy  picture. 
It  should,  however,  be  remembered,  that  the  world  has  known 
the  WEEPING  as  well  as  the  LAUGHING  philosopher. 

The  Dictionary  does  not  properly  fall  within  the  province 
of  this  essay4.     The   preface,  however,  will  be  found   in   this 

1  Rasselas,  ch.  43  ;  Life,  i.  66.  morous  definitions,  adds  that  John- 

2  Rasselas,  ch.  48.     There  is  not  a  son  said  to  him : — '  You  know,  Sir, 
single  line  in  which  a  believer  in  the  Lord  Gower  forsook  the  old  Jacobite 
immortality  of  the  soul  would  find  interest.     When  I  came  to  the  word 
this  '  tincture.'  Renegado,  after  telling  that  it  meant 

3  Life,  i.  342 ;  vi.  Addenda,  p.  29 ;      "  one  who  deserts  to  the  enemy,  a 
Letters,  i.  79.  revolter,"    I   added,   Sometimes  we 

4  Boswell,  after  quoting  some  hu-      say  a  GOWER.     Thus  it  went  to  the 

edition 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  473 

edition.  He  who  reads  the  close  of  it,  without  acknowledging 
the  force  of  the  pathetic  and  sublime,  must  have  more  insen 
sibility  in  his  composition  than  usually  falls  to  the  share  of 
man 1.  The  work  itself,  though  in  some  instances  abuse  has 
been  loud,  and  in  others  malice  has  endeavoured  to  undermine 
its  fame,  still  remains  the  MOUNT  ATLAS  of  English  Literature. 

Though  storms  and  tempests  thunder  on  its  brow, 
And  oceans  break  their  billows  at  its  feet, 
It  stands  unmov'd,  and  glories  in  its  height2. 

That  Johnson  was  eminently  qualified  for  the  office  of  a 
commentator  on  Shakspeare,  no  man  can  doubt ;  but  it  was 
an  office  which  he  never  cordially  embraced3.  The  publick 
expected  more  than  he  had  diligence  to  perform  ;  and  yet 
his  edition  has  been  the  ground  on  which  every  subsequent 
commentator  has  chose  to  build.  One  note,  for  its  singularity, 
may  be  thought  worthy  of  notice  in  this  place.  Hamlet  says, 
For  if  the  sun  breed  maggots  in  a  dead  dog,  being  a  God-kissing 
carrion*.  In  this  Warburton  discovered  the  origin  of  evil. 
Hamlet,  he  says,  breaks  off  in  the  middle  of  the  sentence ; 
but  the  learned  commentator  knows  what  he  was  going  to  say, 
and,  being  unwilling  to  keep  the  secret,  he  goes  on  in  a  train 
of  philosophical  reasoning  that  leaves  the  reader  in  astonish, 
ment.  Johnson,  with  true  piety,  adopts  the  fanciful  hypothesis, 
declaring  it  to  be  a  noble  emendation,  which  almost  sets  the 
critic  on  a  level  with  the  author5.  The  general  observations 

press;  but  the  printer  had  more  wit  very  good  bottle-companion,  has  been 

than  I,  and  struck  it  out.'    Life,  i.  the  diversion  of  his  friends."     Ad- 

296.     This  is  made  clearer  by  the  dison? 

following  passage  in  the  Lives  of  the  Stock-jobber  he  defines  as  a  low 

Norths,  ed.   1826,   iii.   73  :— '  Many  wretch   who  gets  money  by  buying 

of   the   Turks    think    that    Cowers  and  selling  shares  in  the  funds.    For 

[Giaours]    or    unbelievers    are    un-  other  definitions  see  Life,  i.  294. 

worthy  of  the  knowledge  of  their  x  Ib.  i.  297,  n.  2  ;  ante,  p.  405,  n.  4. 

sublime  state.'  2       '  Thou  hast  seen  Mount  Atlas ; 

Johnson,  in  his  Dictionary,  under  While    storms     and    tempests 

the  word  Bottle  has,  I  think,  a  hit  thunder  on  its  brows,'  &c. 

at  himself.     'Bottle,'  he  writes,  'is  Addison,  Cato,  Act  ii.  sc.  6. 

often  compounded  with  other  words  ;  3  Ante,  p.  41 5. 

as  bottle-friend,  a   drinking-friend  ;  4  Hamlet,  Act  ii.  sc.  2.  1.  181. 

bottle-companion.     "  Sam,  who  is  a  5    Warburton    corrected    the    old 

at 


474  Essay  on 


at  the  end  of  the  several  plays,  and  the  preface,  will  be  found 
in  this  edition.  The  former,  with  great  elegance  and  precision, 
give  a  summary  view  of  each  drama.  The  preface  is  a  tract 
of  great  erudition  and  philosophical  criticism  *. 

Johnson's  political  pamphlets,  whatever  was  his  motive  for 
writing  them,  whether  gratitude  for  his  pension,  or  the  soli 
citation  of  men  in  power 2,  did  not  support  the  cause  for  which 
they  were  undertaken.  They  are  written  in  a  style  truly 
harmonious,  and  with  his  usual  dignity  of  language.  When 
it  is  said  that  he  advanced  positions  repugnant  to  the  common 
rights  of  mankind^  the  virulence  of  party  may  be  suspected. 
It  is,  perhaps,  true  that  in  the  clamour  raised  throughout  the 
kingdom  Johnson  over-heated  his  mind;  but  he  was  a  friend 
to  the  rights  of  man3,  and  he  was  greatly  superior  to  the 
littleness  of  spirit  that  might  incline  him  to  advance  what  he 
did  not  think  and  firmly  believe.  In  the  False  Alarm,  though 
many  of  the  most  eminent  men  in  the  kingdom  concurred  in 
petitions  to  the  throne,  yet  Johnson,  having  well  surveyed  the 
mass  of  the  people,  has  given,  with  great  humour  and  no  less 
truth,  what  may  be  called,  the  birth,  parentage,  and  education 
of  a  remonstrance6".  On  the  subject  of  Falkland's  islands,  the 
fine  dissuasive  from  too  hastily  involving  the  world  in  the 
calamities  of  war5,  must  extort  applause  even  from  the  party 
that  wished,  at  that  time,  for  scenes  of  tumult  and  commotion. 

reading,  '  Being  a  good  kissing  car-  best  manner.  The  most  valuable 
rion,'  by  changing  good  into  God.  notes  are  those  in  which  he  had  an 
Johnson  says  nothing  of  the  hy-  opportunity  of  showing  how  atten- 
pothesis,  but  merely  remarks  '  this  is  tively  he  had  during  many  years 
a  noble  emendation,'  &c.  Murphy,  observed  human  life  and  human  na- 
doubtless,  is  right  in  attributing  the  ture.  The  best  specimen  is  the  note 
exaggerated  praise  to  his  piety.  Mr.  on  the  character  of  Polonius.  No- 
Dyce  says  : — '  Warburton's  emenda-  thing  so  good  is  to  be  found  even  in 
tion,  if  over-praised  by  Johnson,  at  Wilhelm  Meister's  admirable  exam- 
least  has  the  merit  of  conveying  ination  of  Hamlet.'  Macaulay's 
something  like  a  meaning.'  M'sc.  Works,  1871,  p.  385. 


1  The  general  observations  are  the 
worst  part  of  the  edition — they  are 
sometimes  almost  absurd. 

'  The  preface,  though  it  contains 


Life,  ii.  317. 

Ib.  i.  424;  ii.  170. 

Ib.  ii.  90,  n.  5  ;   Works^  vi.  172. 

Life,  ii.  134  ;   Works,  vi.  199. 


some  good  passages,  is   not  in  his 

It 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  475 

It  was  in  the  same  pamphlet  that  Johnson  offered  battle  to 
JUNIUS ;  a  writer,  who,  by  the  uncommon  elegance  of  his 
style,  charmed  every  reader,  though  his  object  was  to  inflame 
the  nation  in  favour  of  a  faction.  Junius  fought  in  the  dark ; 
he  saw  his  enemy  and  had  his  full  blow,  while  he  himself 
remained  safe  in  obscurity.  But  let  us  not,  said  Johnson, 
mistake  the  venom  of  the  shaft  for  the  vigour  of  the  bow r. 
The  keen  invective  which  he  published  on  that  occasion,  promised 
a  paper-war  between  two  combatants,  who  knew  the  use  of 
their  weapons.  A  battle  between  them  was  as  eagerly  expected 
as  between  Mendoza  and  Big  Ben 2.  But  Junius,  whatever  was 
his  reason,  never  returned  to  the  field.  He  laid  down  his 
arms,  and  has,  ever  since,  remained  as  secret  as  the  MAN  IN 
THE  MASK  in  Voltaire's  History3. 

The  account  of  his  journey  to  the  Hebrides  or  Western 
Isles  of  Scotland,  is  a  model  for  such  as  shall  hereafter  relate 
their  travels.  The  author  did  not  visit  that  part  of  the  world 
in  the  character  of  an  Antiquary,  to  amuse  us  with  wonders 
taken  from  the  dark  and  fabulous  ages ;  nor  as  a  Mathematician, 
to  measure  a  degree,  and  settle  the  longitude  and  latitude  of 
the  several  islands.  Those,  who  expected  such  information, 

1  Works,  vi.  205.  later  the  Prince  of  Wales  witnessed 

2  '  Big  Ben  (Mr.  George  C.  Boase  a  fight  at  Brighton,  in  which   one 
writes  to  me)  was  Benjamin   Brain  of  the  men  was    killed.    Ib.   1788, 
or  Bryan,  champion  of  England  in  p.  745. 

1790.     I  do  not  think  he  ever  fought  Horace  Walpole  wrote  on  June  20, 

with  Mendoza;    but   Mendoza  sue-  1760: — 'It  is  a  comfortable  reflec- 

ceeded  him  as   champion  in  1791.  tion  to  me  that  all  the  victories  of 

Big  Ben  was  never  beaten.'     It  was  last  year  have  been  gained  since  the 

probably  after  him  that  the  Warden  suppression  of  the  Bear  Garden  and 

of  Wadham  College,  Oxford,  of  my  prize-fighting ;    as  it   is  plain,   and 

undergraduate  days,  Dr.  Benjamin  nothing    else    would  have  made  it 

Symons,  was  called  '  Big  Ben.'  so,  that   our  valour  did  not  singly 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  for  and  solely  depend  upon  these  two 

1787,  p.   361,  an   account  is  given  Universities.'    Letters,  iii.    320.     If 

of  a  fight  between  Mendoza  a  Jew,  prize-fighting  was  suppressed  for  a 

and  one  Martin,  a  Bath  butcher,  in  time,  it  soon  revived, 

the   presence  of  some   of  the  first  3  Sihle  de  Louis  XIV,  ch.   25  ; 

personages  of  the  kingdom.     It  was  ante,  p.  172. 
decided  in  favour  of  the  Jew.  A  year 

expected 


476  Essay  on 


expected  what  was  never  intended.  In  every  ivork  regard  the 
writer s  end''.  Johnson  went  to  see  men  and  manners,  modes 
of  life,  and  the  progress  of  civilization2.  His  remarks  are  so 
artfully  blended  with  the  rapidity  and  elegance  of  his  narrative, 
that  the  reader  is  inclined  to  wish,  as  Johnson  did  with  regard 
to  GRAY,  that  to  travel,  and  to  tell  his  travels,  had  been  more 
of  his  employment 3. 

As  to  Johnson's  Parliamentary  Debates,  nothing  with  propriety 
can  be  said  in  this  place.  They  are  collected  in  two  volumes 
by  Mr.  Stockdale4,  and  the  flow  of  eloquence  which  runs 
through  the  several  speeches  is  sufficiently  known. 

It  will  not  be  useless  to  mention  two  more  volumes,  which 
may  form  a  proper  supplement  to  this  edition.  They  contain 
a  set  of  Sermons  left  for  publication  by  John  Taylor,  LL.D. 
The  Reverend  Mr.  Hayes,  who  ushered  these  Discourses  into 
the  world,  has  not  given  them  as  the  composition  of  Dr.  Taylor. 
All  he  could  say  for  his  departed  friend  was,  that  he  left  them 
in  silence  among  his  papers.  Mr.  Hayes  knew  them  to  be 
the  production  of  a  superior  mind  ;  and  the  writer  of  these 
Memoirs  owes  it  to  the  candour  of  that  elegant  scholar  5,  that 
he  is  now  warranted  to  give  an  additional  proof  of  Johnson's 
ardour  in  the  cause  of  piety,  and  every  moral  duty.  The  last 
discourse  in  the  collection  was  intended  to  be  delivered  by 
Dr.  Taylor  at  the  funeral  of  Johnson's  wife  ;  but  that  Reverend 
gentleman  declined  the  office,  because,  as  he  told  Mr.  Hayes, 
the  praise  of  the  deceased  was  too  much  amplified6.  He, 
who  reads  the  piece,  will  find  it  a  beautiful  moral  lesson, 
written  with  temper,  and  no  where  overcharged  with  ambitious 
ornaments.  The  rest  of  the  Discourses  were  the  fund,  which 

1  Pope,  Essay  on  Criticism,  1.  255.  verses,'  was  Southey's  tutor  at  West- 

2  Ante,  p.  430.  minster.     '  He  had  some   skill   and 

3  Works,  viii.  480.  much    facility   in    versifying.'       He 

4  Life,  i.  190,  n.  4.  was  'a  free,  good-natured,  fuddling 

5  Ib.  iii.  181.  companion,    whose    wig    the    boys 
Samuel  Hayes,  '  Botch  Hayes,  as  stuck  full  of  paper  darts  in  school.' 

he  was  denominated,  for  the  manner  Southey's  Life,  &c.,  ed.  1849,  i.  135. 
in  which  he  mended  his  pupil's  6  Life,  i.  241. 

Dr. 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 


477 


Dr.  Taylor,  from  time  to  time,  carried  with  him  to  his  pulpit. 
He  had  the  LARGEST  BULL  in  England1,  and  some  of  the 
best  Sermons. 

We  come  now  to  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,  a  work  undertaken 
at  the  age  of  seventy,  yet  the  most  brilliant,  and  certainly  the 
most  popular  of  all  our  Author's  writings2.  For  this  perform 
ance  he  needed  little  preparation.  Attentive  always  to  the 
history  of  letters,  and  by  his  own  natural  bias  fond  of  Biography, 
he  was  the  more  willing  to  embrace  the  proposition  of  the 
Booksellers.  He  was  versed  in  the  whole  body  of  English 
Poetry,  and  his  rules  of  criticism  were  settled  with  precision. 
The  dissertation,  in  the  Life  of  Cowley,  on  the  metaphysical 
Poets 3  of  the  last  century,  has  the  attraction  of  novelty  as  well 


1  Letters,  i.  Preface,  p.  13. 

2  He    was    sixty-seven    when    he 
undertook  the  work  ;  sixty-nine  when 
the  first  four  volumes  were  published, 
and  seventy-one  when  the  last  four. 
Life,  iii.  109,  370 ;  iv.  34. 

Cowper  wrote  of  the  Lives'. — 
'Johnson  has  a  penetrating  insight 
into  character,  and  a  happy  talent 
of  correcting  the  popular  opinion 
upon  all  occasions  where  it  is  er 
roneous  ;  and  this  he  does  with  the 
boldness  of  a  man  who  will  think 
for  himself,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
with  a  justness  of  sentiment  that 
convinces  us  he  does  not  differ  from 
others  through  affectation,  but  be 
cause  he  has  a  sounder  judgment. 
This  remark,  however,  has  his  nar 
rative  for  its  object,  rather  than 
his  critical  performance.'  Cowper's 
Works,  ed.  1836,  v.  12. 

'The  Lives  of  the  Poets  are,  on 
the  whole,  the  best  of  Johnson's 
works.  The  narratives  are  as  enter 
taining  as  any  novel.  The  remarks 
on  life  and  on  human  nature  are 
eminently  shrewd  and  profound.  The 
criticisms  are  often  excellent,  and 
even  when  grossly  and  provokingly 


unjust,  well  deserve  to  be  studied.' 
Macaulay's  Misc.  Works,  ed.  1871, 
P-  392. 

3  Wordsworth  writes  of  'that  class 
of  curious  thinkers  whom  Dr.  John 
son  has  strangely  styled  metaphysical 
Poets.'  Wordsworth's  Works,  ed. 
1857,  vi.  365.  Johnson  defines  meta 
physical,  '  i.  versed  in  metaphysicks  ; 
relating  to  metaphysicks ;  2.  In 
Shakespeare  it  means  supernatural 
or  preternatiiral!  In  speaking  of  an 
author's  right  to  his  own  writings, 
he  speaks  of  his  having  'a  meta 
physical  right,  a  right,  as  it  were, 
of  creation.'  Life,  ii.  259.  I  suppose 
he  means  that  as  '  creation '  is  be 
yond  the  nature  of  man,  right 
derived  from  it  is  preternatural  or 
metaphysical.  He  used  the  word  in 
a  very  different  sense  when  he  told 
Hannah  More  that '  he  hated  to  hear 
people  whine  about  metaphysical 
distresses,  when  there  was  so  much 
want  and  hunger  in  the  world.' 
More's  Memoirs,  i.  249.  South  had 
used  it  in  much  the  same  sense  when 
he  writes:— 'Those  who  neither  do 
good  turns,  nor  give  good  looks,  nor 
speak  good  words,  have  a  love 

as 


478  Essay  on 


as  sound  observation  x.  The  writers,  who  followed  Dr.  Donne, 
went  in  quest  of  something  better  than  truth  and  nature.  As 
Sancho  says  in  Don  Quixotte,  they  wanted  better  bread  than 
is  made  with  wheat.  They  took  pains  to  bewilder  themselves, 
and  were  ingenious  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  err.  In 
Johnson's  review  of  Cowley's  works,  false  wit  is  detected  in 
all  its  shapes,  and  the  Gothic 2  taste  for  glittering  conceits,  and 
far-fetched  allusions,  is  exploded,  never,  it  is  hoped,  to  revive 
again. 

An  author,  who  has  published  his  observations  on  the  Life 
and  Writings  of  Dr.  Johnson 3,  speaking  of  the  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  says,  'These  [considered  as]  compositions,  [and  as] 
abounding  in  [with]  strong  and  acute  remarks,  and  with  many 
fine  and  [some]  even  sublime  passages,  have  unquestionably 
great  merit ;  but  if  they  be  regarded  merely  as  containing 
narrations  of  the  lives,  delineations  of  the  characters,  and 
strictures  of  the  several  authors,  they  are  far  from  being  always 
to  be  depended  on.'  He  adds,  *  The  characters  are  sometimes 
partial,  and  there  is  sometimes  TOO  MUCH  MALIGNITY  [the 
capital  letters  are  Murphy's]  of  misrepresentation,  to  which, 
perhaps,  may  be  joined  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  erroneous 
criticism.'  The  several  clauses  of  this  censure  deserve  to  be 
answered  as  fully  as  the  limits  of  this  essay  will  permit. 

strangely  subtile  and  metaphysical ;  the  age,  in  which   it  was  usual  to 

for  other  poor  mortals  of  an  ordinary  designate  almost  anything  absurd  or 

capacity  are  forced   to  be  ignorant  extravagant  by  the  name  of  meta- 

of  that  which  they  can  neither  see,  physical.'     Gary's  Lives  of  English 

hear,  feel,  nor  understand.'  Sermons,  Poets,  ed.  1846,  p.  86. 
ed.  1823,  ii.  304.  *  '  The  Life  of  COWLEY  he  himself 

Dr.    Warton    says    that    Johnson  considered  as  the  best  of  the  whole, 

calls    the  poets    metaphysical   after  on  account  of  the  dissertation  which 

Dryden.     Warton's   Pope's    Works,  it    contains    on    the    Metaphysical 

i.  270.  Poets'     Life,  iv.  38. 

4  The  designation,'  writes  Southey,         2  Gothic    is     not     in     Johnson's 

'  is  not  fortunate,  but  so  much  re-  Dictionary.     It  was  commonly  used 

spect  is  due  to  Johnson  that  it  would  for  mediaeval  or  barbarous.     Ante, 

be  unbecoming  to  substitute,  even  if  p.  384,  n.  I. 

it  were  easy  to  propose,  one  which          3  An  Essay  on  the  Life,  Character, 

might  be  unexceptionable.'  Southey's  &c.,  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  1786, 

Cowper,  ii.  127.  p.  53.  It  was  published  anonymously, 

'Johnson  had  caught  the  cant  of  but  it  was  by  Dr.  Joseph  Towers. 

In 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  479 

In  the  first  place,  the  facts  are  related  upon  the  best  intel 
ligence,  and  the  best  vouchers  that  could  be  gleaned,  after 
a  great  lapse  of  time1.  Probability  was  to  be  inferred  from 
such  materials  as  could  be  procured,  and  no  man  better 
understood  the  nature  of  historical  evidence  than  Dr.  Johnson  ; 
no  man  was  more  religiously  an  observer  of  truth.  If  his 
History  is  any  where  defective,  it  must  be  imputed  to  the  want 
of  better  information,  and  the  errors  of  uncertain  tradition. 

Ad  nos  vix  tenuis  famae  perlabitur  aura2. 

Jf  the  strictures  on  the  works  of  the  various  authors  are 
n£t  always  satisfactory,  and  if  erroneous  criticism  may  some 
times  be  suspected,  who  can  hope  that  in  matters  of  taste  all 
snail  agree?  The  instances  in  which  the  public  mind  has 
differed  from  the  positions  advanced  by  the  author,  are  few 
in  /number.  It  has  been  said,  that  justice  has  not  been  done 
to/Swift ;  that  Gay  and  Prior  are  undervalued  ;  and  that  Gray 
hfas  been  harshly  treated3.  This  charge,  perhaps,  ought  not 
ti  be  disputed.  Johnson,  it  is  well  known,  had  conceived 
a  prejudice  against  Swift 4.  His  friends  trembled  for  him  when 
he  was  writing  that  life,  but  were  pleased,  at  last,  to  see  it 
executed  with  temper  and  moderation.  As  to  Prior,  it  is 
probable  that  he  gave  his  real  opinion,  but  an  opinion  that 
will  not  be  adopted  by  men  of  lively  fancy5.  With  regard 

1  'Dr.   Johnson,'    writes    Boswell,  his  poems  with  the  most  charming 
'  was  by  no  means  attentive  to  minute  ease,  stood  unshaken    till   Johnson 
accuracy  in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets.'  thrust   his   head  against  it.'     '  The 
Zz/i?,  iii.359,  n.  2.     See  also,  ib.  iv.  51,  supposed  injury  done  by  him  to  the 
n.  2.      He    trusted    greatly  to    his  memory  of  Gray  is  resented  by  the 
memory.     If  he  did  not  retain  any-  whole     university    of     Cambridge.' 
thing  exactly,  he  did  not  think  him-  Hawkins,  p.  538.    '  Among  the  Lives 
self  bound  to  look   it  up.     Ib.   iv.  the  very  worst  is,  beyond  all  doubt, 
36,  n.  3.  that    °f    Gray.'      Macaulay's  Misc. 

2  Aeneid,  vii.  646.  Works,  ed.  1871,  p.  392. 

3  Life  i.  404  ;  iv.  64.  4  Life,  iv.  61 ;  v.  44  ;  ante,  p.  373- 
Cowper    wrote  on  Jan.    17,    1782          5  'His  numbers  are  such  as  mere 

(Works,  ed.  1836,  iv.  175): — 'Prior's  diligence  may  attain;  they  seldom 
reputation  as  an  author  who,  with  offend  the  ear,  and  seldom  soothe 
much  labour  indeed,  but  with  ad-  it ;  they  commonly  want  airiness, 
mirable  success,  has  embellished  all  lightness,  and  facility:  what  is  smooth 

to 


480  Essay  on 


to  Gray,  when  he  condemns  the  apostrophe,  in  which  Father 
Thames  is  desired  to  tell  who  drives  the  hoop,  or  tosses  the 
ball,  and  then  adds,  that  Father  Thames  had  no  better  means 
of  knowing  than  himself;  when  he  compares  the  abrupt 
beginning  of  the  first  stanza  of  the  bard  to  the  ballad  of 
JOHNNY  ARMSTRONG,  'Is  there  ever  a  man  in  all  Scotland* ;' 
there  are,  perhaps,  few  friends  of  Johnson,  who  would  not 
wish  to  blot  out  both  the  passages.  It  may  be  questioned 
whether  the  remarks  on  Pope's  Essay  on  Man  can  be  received 
without  great  caution.  It  has  been  already  mentioned2,  that 
Crousaz,  a  professor  in  Switzerland,  eminent  for  his  Treatise 
of  Logic,  started  up  a  professed  enemy  to  that  poem.  Johnson 
says,  'his  mind  was  one  of  those,  in  which  philosophy  and 
piety  are  happily  united.  He  looked  with  distrust  upon  all 
metaphysical  systems  of  theology,  and  was  persuaded,  that  the 
positions  of  Pope  were  intended  to  draw  mankind  away  from 
Revelation,  and  to  represent  the  whole  course  of  things  as 
a  necessary  concatenation  of  indissoluble  fatality3.'  This  is 
not  the  place  for  a  controversy  about  the  Leibnitzian  system. 
Warburton,  with  all  the  powers  of  his  large  and  comprehensive 
mind,  published  a  Vindication  of  Pope  ;  and  yet  Johnson  says, 
that  '  in  many  passages  a  religious  eye  may  easily  discover 
expressions  not  very  favourable  to  morals,  or  to  liberty4.1 
This  sentence  is  severe,  and,  perhaps,  dogmatical.  Crousaz 
wrote  an  Examen  of  THE  ESSAY  ON  MAN,  and  afterwards 
a  Commentary  on  every  remarkable  passage  ;  and  though  it 
now  appears  that  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter  translated  the  foreign 
Critic5,  yet  it  is  certain  that  Johnson  encouraged  the  work, 
and,  perhaps,  imbibed  those  early  prejudices  which  adhered 
to  him  to  the  end  of  his  life.  He  shuddered  at  the  idea  of 
irreligion.  Hence  we  are  told  in  the  Life  of  Pope,  'Never 
were  penury  of  knowledge  and  vulgarity  of  sentiment  so  happily 

is  not  soft.     His  verses  always  roll  is  abridged  and  altered. 

but  they  seldom  flow.'     Works,  viii.         4  Ib.  p.  288. 

22.  5  Ante,  p.  374.     Dryden  spells  the 

1  Life,  i.  403  ;  Works,  viii.  483, 486.  word     critick  ;     Addison,     critique ; 

2  Ante,  p.  374.  Pope,  critiqiie  and  critick.      John- 

3  Works,  viii.  287.     The  quotation  son's  Dictionary. 

disguised 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  481 

disguised  ;  Pope,  in  the  chair  of  wisdom,  tells  much  that  every 
man  knows,  and  much  that  he  did  not  know  himself;  and 
gives  us  comfort  in  the  position,  that  though  mans  a  fool,  yet 
God  is  wise * ;  that  human  advantages  are  unstable ;  that  our 
true  honour  is,  not  to  have  a  great  part,  but  to  act  it  well ; 
that  virtue  only  is  our  own,  and  that  happiness  is  always  in 
our  power.  The  reader,  when  he  meets  all  this  in  its  new 
array,  no  longer  knows  the  talk  of  his  mother  and  his  nurse 2.' 
But  may  it  not  be  said,  that  every  system  of  ethics  must  or 
ought  to  terminate  in  plain  and  general  maxims  for  the  use 
of  life  ?  and,  though  in  such  axioms  no  discovery  is  made,  does 
not  the  beauty  of  the  moral  theory  consist  in  the  premises, 
and  the  chain  of  reasoning  that  leads  to  the  conclusion? 
May  not  truth,  as  Johnson  himself  says,  be  conveyed  to  the 
mind  by  a  new  train  of  intermediate  images?  Pope's  doc 
trine  about  the  ruling  passion  does  not  seem  to  be  refuted, 
though  it  is  called,  in  harsh  terms,  pernicious  as  well  as 
false,  tending  to  establish  a  kind  of  moral  predestination,  or 
over- ruling  principle,  which  cannot  be  resisted 3.  But  Johnson 
was  too  easily  alarmed  in  the  cause  of  religion.  Organized 
as  the  human  race  is,  individuals  have  different  inlets  of 
perception,  different  powers  of  mind,  and  different  sensations 
of  pleasure  and  pain. 

All  spread  their  charms,  but  charm  not  all  alike, 
On  different  senses  different  objects  strike; 
Hence  different  passions  more  or  less  inflame, 
As  strong  or  weak  the  organs  of  the  frame ; 
And  hence  one  master-passion  in  the  breast, 
Like  Aaron's  serpent  swallows  up  the  rest4. 

Brumoy  says,  Pascal  from  his  infancy  felt  himself  a  geo 
metrician ;  and  Vandyke,  in  like  manner,  was  a  painter. 
Shakspeare,  who  of  all  poets  had  the  deepest  insight  into 
human  nature,  was  aware  of  a  prevailing  bias  in  the  operations 

1  Essay  on  Man,  ii.  294.  3  Ib.  viii.  293. 

2  Works,  viii.  339.    The  quotation          4  Essay  on  Man,  ii.  127. 
is  abridged  and  altered. 

ii  of 


482 


Essay  on 


of  every  mind.     By  him  we  are  told,  *  Masterless  passion  sways 
us  to  the  mood  of  what  it  likes  or  loaths  V 

It  remains  to  enquire,  whether  in  the  lives  before  us  the 
characters  are  partial,  and  too  often  drawn  with  malignity  of 
misrepresentation.  To  prove  this  it  is  alleged,  that  Johnson 
has  misrepresented  the  circumstances  relative  to  the  translation 
of  the  first  Iliad,  and  maliciously  ascribed  that  performance 
to  Addison,  instead  of  Tickell,  with  too  much  reliance  on  the 
testimony  of  Pope,  taken  from  the  account  in  the  papers  left 
by  Mr.  Spence2.  For  a  refutation  of  the  fallacy  imputed  to 
Addison,  we  are  referred  3  to  a  note  in  the  Biographia  Britannica, 
written  by  the  late  Judge  Blacks  tone  4,  who,  it  is  said,  examined 
the  whole  matter  with  accuracy,  and  found  that  the  first  regular 
statement  of  the  accusation  against  Addison  was  published  by 
RufThead  in  his  Life  of  Pope,  from  the  materials  which  he 
received  from  Dr.  Warburton.  But,  with  all  due  deference  to 
the  learned  Judge,  whose  talents  deserve  all  praise,  this  account 
is  by  no  means  accurate. 

Sir  Richard  Steele,  in  a  dedication  of  the  Comedy  of  the 
Drummer  to  Mr.  Congreve,  gave  the  first  insight  into  that 
business.  He  says,  in  a  style  of  anger  and  resentment,  *  If 


'  For  affection, 
Mistress  of  passion,  sways  it  to 

the  mood/  &c. 
Merchant  of  Venice^  Act.  iv. 

sc.  1. 1.  50. 

Some  editors  read  *  Master  of 
passion.' 

Johnson  must  have  had  these  lines 
in  mind  when   he   described   Gold 
smith  as 
'  Sive  risus  essent  movendi, 

Sive  lacrymae, 
Affectuum    potens    at  lenis   domi- 

nator.'    Life,  iii.  83. 
2   Works,  viii.  87. 

'Mr.  Watts,  the  printer,'  writes 
Dr.  Warton,  '  a  man  of  integrity, 
assured  a  friend  of  Mr.  Nicols 


[?  Nichols]  that  the  translation  of 
the  First  Book  of  the  Iliad  was  in 
Tickell's  handwriting,  but  much  cor 
rected  and  interlined  by  Addison.' 
Warton's  Pope's  Works  t  i.  Preface, 

p.  20. 

3  By  Dr.  Towers,  An  Essay  on  the 
Life,  &c.,  p.  91. 

4  Dr.  Kippis,  editor  of  the  Biog. 
Britan.)   ed.   1778,   thus    introduces 
this  note  : — '  We  are  now  happy  in 
having  the  difference  between  him 
and  Mr.  Pope  very  fully  discussed 
by  a  gentleman  of  considerable  rank, 
to  whom  the  Public  is   obliged  for 
works  of  much  higher  importance.' 
i.  56. 

that 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  483 

that  gentleman  (Mr.  Tickell)  thinks  himself  injured1,  I  will 
allow  I  have  wronged  him  upon  this  issue,  that  (if  the  reputed 
translator  of  the  first  book  of  Homer  shall  please  to  give  us 
another  book)  there  shall  appear  another  good  judge  in  poetry, 
besides  Mr.  Alexander  Pope,  who  shall  like  it.'  The  authority 
of  Steele  outweighs  all  opinions  founded  on  vain  conjecture, 
and,  indeed,  seems  to  be  decisive,  since  we  do  not  find  that 
Tickell,  though  warmly  pressed,  thought  proper  to  vindicate 
himself. 

But  the  grand  proof  of  Johnson's  malignity,  is  the  manner 
in  which  he  has  treated  the  character  and  conduct  of  Milton 2. 
To  enforce  this  charge,  has  wearied  sophistry,  and  exhausted 
the  invention  of  a  party3.  What  they  cannot  deny,  they  pal 
liate  ;  what  they  cannot  prove,  they  say  is  probable.  But  why 
all  this  rage  against  Dr.  Johnson?  Addison,  before  him,  had 
said  of  Milton ; 

Oh !   had  the  Poet  ne'er  prophan'd  his  pen, 
To  varnish  o'er  the  guilt  of  faithless  men 4 ! 

And  had  not  Johnson  an  equal  right  to  avow  his  sentiments? 
Do  his  enemies  claim  a  privilege  to  abuse  whatever  is  valuable 
to  Englishmen,  either  in  Church  or  State,  and  must  the  liberty 
of  UNLICENSED  PRINTING5  be  denied  to  the  friends  of  the 
British  constitution  ? 

It  is  unnecessary  to  pursue  the  argument  through  all  its 
artifices,  since,  dismantled  of  ornament  and  seducing  language, 

1  '  If  a  certain  gentleman  is  injured  another  strain."    These  prejudices, 
by  it,'  &c.      Addison's    Works,  ed.  however,  do  not  appear  to  affect  his 
1856,  v.i  53.  criticisms,  which  are  in  general   in 

2  Malone  wrote  to   Lord   Charle-  my  opinion  extremely  just.'    Hist. 
mont  on  April  5,  1779  :—' Johnson's  MSS.  Com.,   Twelfth  Report,  App. 
political  principles  break  out  in  all  x.  345. 

his    compositions.      In    his    life    of  3  Ante,  p.  394  ;  Life,  iv.  40. 

Waller  having  occasion  to  mention  4  An    Account    of   the    Greatest 

Hampden,  his  uncle,  he  has  no  other  English  Poets.      Addison's    Works, 

epithet  for  him  than  "the  zealot  of  ed.  1862,  i.  25. 

rebellion."      I    have    not    seen    his  5  Murphy  alludes  to  Milton's  A reo- 

Milton,  but  he  told  me,  "  we  have  pagitica :    A  Speech  for  the  Liberty 

had  too  many  honey-suckle  lives  of  of  Unlicensed  Printing. 
Milton,  and   that   his   should  be  in 

112  the 


484 


Essay  on 


the  plain  truth  may  be  stated  in  a  narrow  compass.  Johnson 
knew  that  Milton  was  a  republican  ;  he  says,  '  an  acrimonious, 
and  surly  republican  z,  for  which  it  is  not  known  that  he  gave  any 
better  reason,  than  that  a  popular  government  was  the  most 
frugal ;  for  the  trappings  of  a  monarchy  would  set  up  an  ordinary 
commonwealth.'  Johnson  knew  that  Milton  talked  aloud  of  the 
danger  of  READMITTING  KINGSHIP  in  this  nation 2 ;  and  when 
Milton  adds,  '  that  a  commonwealth  was  commended,  or  rather 
ENJOINED,  by  our  Saviour  himself  to  all  Christians,  not  without 
a  remarkable  disallowance,  and  the  brand  of  Gentilism  UPON 
KINGSHIP3,'  Johnson  thought  him  no  better  than  a  wild  en 
thusiast.  He  knew,  as  well  as  Milton,  *  that  the  happiness  of 
a  nation  must  needs  be  firmest  and  certainest  in  a  full  and 
free  council  of  their  own  electing,  where  no  single  person,  but 
reason  only  sways 4 ; '  but  the  example  of  all  the  republics, 
recorded  in  the  annals  of  mankind,  gave  him  no  room  to  hope 
that  REASON  ONLY  would  be  heard.  He  knew  that  the 
republican  form  of  government,  having  little  or  no  complication, 
and  no  consonance  of  parts  by  a  nice  mechanism  forming 
a  regular  whole,  was  too  simple  to  be  beautiful  even  in  theory. 
In  practice  it,  perhaps,  never  existed.  In  its  most  flourishing 
state,  at  Athens,  Rome,  and  Carthage,  it  was  a  constant  scene 
of  tumult  and  commotion.  From  the  mischiefs  of  a  wild 
democracy,  the  progress  has  ever  been  to  the  dominion  of  an 
aristocracy ;  and  the  word  aristocracy  fatally  includes  the 
boldest  and  most  turbulent  citizens,  who  rise  by  their  crimes, 
and  call  themselves  the  best  men  in  the  State.  By  intrigue,  by 
cabal,  and  faction,  a  pernicious  oligarchy  is  sure  to  succeed,  and 
end  at  last  in  the  tyranny  of  a  single  ruler.  Tacitus,  the  great 
master  of  political  wisdom,  saw,  under  the  mixed  authority  of 
king,  nobles,  and  people,  a  better  form  of  government  than 


1  '  His  political  notions  were  those  with  the  Inconveniencies  and  Dan- 
of  an  acrimonious,'  &c.     Works,  vii.  gers  of   readmitting   Kingship    in 
116.  this  Nation:     Milton's    Works,   ed. 

2  Murphy  is  referring  to  Milton's  1806,  iii.  401. 
work — '  The  Ready  and  Easy  Way  3  Ib.  p.  407. 
to  establish  a  Free  Commonwealth,  4  Ib.  p.  409. 
and  the  Excellence  thereof >  compared 

Milton's 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  485 

Milton's  boasted  republic  ;  and  what  Tacitus  admired  in  theory, 
but  despaired  of  enjoying,  Johnson  saw  established  in  this 
country.  He  knew  that  it  had  been  overturned  by  the  rage  of 
frantic  men ;  but  he  knew  that,  after  the  iron  rod  of  Cromwell's 
usurpation,,  the  constitution  was  once  more  restored  to  its  first 
principles.  Monarchy  was  established,  and  this  country  was 
regenerated.  It  was  regenerated  a  second  time  at  the  Revolu 
tion  :  the  rights  of  men  were  then  defined,  and  the  blessings 
of  good  order  and  civil  liberty  have  been  ever  since  diffused 
through  the  whole  community. 

The  peace  and  happiness  of  society  were  what  Dr.  Johnson 
had  at  heart.  He  knew  that  Milton  called  his  Defence  of  the 
Regicides,  a  defence  of  the  people  of  England  r,  but,  however 
glossed  and  varnished,  he  thought  it  an  apology  for  murder. 
Had  the  men,  who,  under  a  shew  of  liberty,  brought  their  king 
to  the  scaffold,  proved  by  their  subsequent  conduct,  that  the 
public  good  inspired  their  action,  the  end  might  have  given 
some  sanction  to  the  means  ;  but  usurpation  and  slavery  followed. 
Milton  undertook  the  office  of  secretary  under  the  despotic 
power  of  Cromwell,  offering  the  incense  of  adulation  to  his 
master,  with  the  titles  of  Director  of  public  Councils,  the  Leader 
of  unconquered  Armies^  the  Father  of  his  Country*.  Milton 
declared,  at  the  same  time,  that  nothing  is  more  pleasing  to  God, 
or  more  agreeable  to  reason,  than  that  the  highest  mind  should 
have  the  sovereign  power*.  In  this  strain  of  servile  flattery 

1  Milton's  Works,  Hi.  103.  It  was  in       Works,  v.  258;   vi.  435;  Johnson's 
writing  this  Defence—'  In  Liberty's       Works,  vii.  88. 

defence,  my  glorious  task,'  that  the  3  '  Nihil  esse  in  societate  hominum 

poet  lost  his   sight.    This  Defence  magis  vel  Deo  gratum,  vel   rationi 

Charles    Lamb   describes    as   '  uni-  consentaneum,  esse  in  civitate  nihil 

formly  great,   and    such  as    is   be-  aequius,   nihil    utilius,   quam    potiri 

fitting  the  very  mouth   of  a  great  rerum  dignissimum.'  '  Nothing  in  the 

nation,  speaking  for  itself.'     Lamb's  world  is  more  pleasing  to  God,  more 

Letters,  ed.  1888,  i.  191.  agreeable  to  reason,  more  politically 

2  'Dux    publici    consilii,  fortissi-  just,  or  more  generally  useful  than 
morum  exercituum  imperator,  pater  that  the  supreme  power  should  be 
patriae.'   '  The  leader  of  our  councils,  vested  in  the  best  and  the  wisest  of 
the  general  of  our  armies,  and  the  men.'    Ib. 

father  of  your    country.'      Milton's 

Milton 


486  Essay  on 


Milton  gives  us  the  right  divine  of  tyrants1.  But  it  seems,  in 
the  same  piece,  he  exhorts  Cromwell  '  not  to  desert  those  great 
principles  of  liberty  which  he  had  professed  to  espouse ;  for  it 
would  be  a  grievous  enormity,  if,  after  having  successfully  opposed 
tyranny,  he  should  himself  act  the  part  of  a  tyrant,  and  betray 
the  cause  that  he  had  defended2.'  This  desertion  of  every 
honest  principle  the  advocate  for  liberty  lived  to  see.  Cromwell 
acted  the  tyrant ;  and,  with  vile  hypocrisy,  told  the  people,  that 
he  had  consulted  the  Lord,  and  the  Lord  would  have  it  so3. 
Milton  took  an  under  part  in  the  tragedy.  Did  that  become 
the  defender  of  the  people  of  England  ?  Brutus  saw  his  country 
enslaved;  he  struck  the  blow  for  freedom,  and  he  died  with 
honour  in  the  cause.  Had  he  lived  to  be  secretary  under 
Tiberius  what  would  now  be  said  of  his  memory 4  ? 

But  still,  it  seems,  the  prostitution  with  which  Milton  is 
charged,  since  it  cannot  be  defended,  is  to  be  retorted  on  the 
character  of  Johnson.  For  this  purpose  a  book  has  been  pub 
lished,  called  Remarks  on  Dr.  Johnson's  Life  of  Milton,  to  which 
are  added  Milton  s  Tractate  of  Education,  and  Areopagitica. 
In  this  laboured  tract  we  are  told,  '  There  is  one  performance 
ascribed  to  the  pen  of  the  Doctor,  where  the  prostitution  is  of 
so  singular  a  nature,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  select  an 
adequate  motive  for  it  out  of  the  mountainous  heap  of  conjee-, 
tural  causes  of  human  passions,  or  human  caprice.  It  is  the  speech 
of  the  late  unhappy  Dr.  William  Dodd,  when  he  was  about  to 
hear  the  sentence  of  the  law  pronounced  upon  him,  in  conse 
quence  of  an  indictment  for  forgery.  The  voice  of  the  publick  has 
given  the  honour  of  manufacturing  this  speech  to  Dr.  Johnson ; 
and  the  style  and  configuration  of  the  speech  itself  confirm  the 
imputation.  .  .  .  But  it  is  hardly  possible  to  divine  what  could 

1  '  Caesar,  when  he  assumed  the       well's  speech  on  dissolving  his  first 
perpetual  dictatorship,  had  not  more       parliament.     Carlyle's  Cromwell,  ed. 
servile  or  elegant  flattery.'   Johnson's       1857,  iii.  71. 

Works,  vii.  88.  4  Dante  has  put  him  with  Judas 

2  This   seems  an  abridgement   of  Iscariot  in  the  lowest  gulf  in  Hell, 
a  passage  in  Milton's  Works,  v.  259;  He   could  not  have  put  him  lower 
vi.  436-7.  even  had  he  been  Tiberius's  secre- 

3  Murphy  refers,  I  think,  to  Crom-  tary. 

be 


Johnson's  Life  and  Genius.  487 

be  his  motive  for  accepting  the  office.  A  man,  to  express  the 
precise  state  of  mind  of  another,  about  to  be  destined  to  an 
ignominious  death  for  a  capital  crime,  should,  one  would  imagine, 
have  some  consciousness,  that  he  himself  had  incurred  some 
guilt  of  the  same  kind  V  In  all  the  schools  of  sophistry  is  there 
to  be  found  so  vile  an  argument  ?  In  the  purlieus  of  Grub-street 
is  there  such  another  mouthfull  of  dirt  ?  In  the  whole  quiver  of 
Malice  is  there  so  envenomed  a  shaft  ? 

After  this  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  a  certain  class  of  men  will 
talk  no  more  of  Johnson's  malignity.  The  last  apology  for 
Milton  is,  that  he  acted  according  to  his  principles.  But 
Johnson  thought  those  principles  detestable ;  pernicious  to  the 
constitution  in  Church  and  State,  destructive  of  the  peace  of 
society,  and  hostile  to  the  great  fabric  of  civil  policy,  which  the 
wisdom  of  ages  has  taught  every  Briton  to  revere,  to  love,  and 
cherish 2.  He  reckoned  Milton  in  that  class  of  men,  of  whom 
the  Roman  historian  says,  when  they  want,  by  a  sudden  convul 
sion,  to  overturn  the  government,  they  roar  and  clamour  for 
liberty;  if  they  succeed,  they  destroy  liberty  itself.  Ut  impe- 
rium  evertant,  Liber tatem  prczferunt ;  si  perverterint^  liber tatem 
ipsam  aggredientur 3.  Such  were  the  sentiments  of  Dr.  Johnson  ; 
and  it  may  be  asked,  in  the  language  of  Bolingbroke,  'Are 
these  sentiments,  which  any  man,  who  is  born  a  Briton,  in 
any  circumstances,  in  any  situation,  ought  to  be  ashamed,  or 
afraid  to  avow 4  ? '  Johnson  has  done  ample  justice  to  Milton's 
poetry:  the  Criticism  on  Paradise  Lost  is  a  sublime  com 
position.  Had  he  thought  the  author  as  good  and  pious 
a  citizen  as  Dr.  Watts,  he  would  have  been  ready,  notwith 
standing  his  non-conformity,  to  do  equal  honour  to  the  memory 
of  the  man 5. 


1  Ante,  p.  432;  Memoirs  of  Thomas  mind  is  disposed  by  his  [Dr.  Watts's] 
Hollis,  ii.  579.  verses  or  his  prose  to  imitate  him  in 

2  Life,  iv.  41.  all  but  his  nonconformity,  to  copy  his 

3  Tacitus,  Annals,  xvi.  22.  benevolence  to  man  and  his  rever- 

4  '  Are  these  designs,'  &c.     Bolin-  ence  to  God.'  Works,  viii.  387.    See 
broke's  Works,  ed.  1809,  iii.  4.  also  Life,  i.  312  ;  iii.  126. 

5  '  Happy  will  be  that  reader  whose 

It 


488        Essay  on  Johnson's  Life  and  Genius. 

It  is  now  time  to  close  this  essay,  which  the  author  fears  has 
been  drawn  too  much  into  length.  In  the  progress  of  the  work, 
feeble  as  it  may  be,  he  thought  himself  performing  the  last 
human  office  to  the  memory  of  a  friend,  whom  he  loved, 
esteemed,  and  honoured. 

His  saltern  accumulem  donis,  et  fungar  inani 
Munere x. 

The  author  of  these  memoirs  has  been  anxious  to  give  the 

features  of  the  man,  and  the  true  character  of  the  author.     He 

has  not  suffered  the  hand  of  partiality  to  colour  his  excellencies 

with  too  much  warmth ;  nor  has  he  endeavoured  to  throw  his 

/  singularities  too  much  into  shade.     Dr.  Johnson's  failings  may 

/    well  be  forgiven  for  the  sake  of  his  virtues.     His  defects  were 

I    spots  in  the  sun.    His  piety,  his  kind  affections,  and  the  goodness 

\  of  his  heart,  present  an  example  worthy  of  imitation.    His  works 

TTwill  remain  a  monument  of  genius   and  of  learning.     Had  he 

written  nothing  but  what  is  contained  in  this  edition,  the  quantity 

shews  a  life  spent  in  study  and  meditation.    If  to  this  we  add  the 

labour  of  his  Dictionary  and  other  various  productions,  it  may 

be   fairly  allowed,  as   he   used    to  say  of  himself,  that  he  has 

written   his   share2.      In   the   volumes    here    presented    to   the 

publick,  the  reader  will  find  a  perpetual  source  of  pleasure  and 

uistruction.     With  due  precautions,  authors  may  learn  to  grace 

/their  style  with  elegance,  harmony  and  precision ;  they  may  be 

/  taught  to  think  with  vigour  and  perspicuity ;  and,  to  crown  the 

V  whole,  by  a  diligent  attention  to  these  books  all  may  advance  in 

Virtue. 


1  Aenezd,  vi.  885. 

2  '  BOSWELL.  "  But,  Sir,  why  don't 
you  give  us  something  in  some  other 
way  ? "     GOLDSMITH.  "  Ay,  Sir,  we 
have  a  claim  upon  you."     "JOHN 
SON.  "  No,  Sir,  I  am  not  obliged  to 


do  any  more.  No  man  is  obliged  to 
do  as  much  as  he  can  do.  A_man  is 
to  have  part  of  his  life  to  himself."  ' 
Life,  ii.  15.  See  also  ii.  35,  where 
the  King  urged  him  to  continue  his 
labours. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


O