Chapter XIII: Part 13

I trust, I shall not be accused of affectation, when I declare, that I find myself unable to express all that I felt upon the loss of such a 'Guide[1273], Philosopher, and Friend[1274].' I shall, therefore, not say one word of my own, but adopt those of an eminent friend[1275], which he uttered with an abrupt felicity, superior to all studied compositions:--'He has made a chasm, which not only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a tendency to fill up. Johnson is dead. Let us go to the next best:--there is nobody; no man can be said to put you in mind of Johnson[1276].'

As Johnson had abundant homage paid to him during his life[1277], so no writer in this nation ever had such an accumulation of literary honours after his death. A sermon upon that event was preached in St. Mary's Church, Oxford, before the University, by the Reverend Mr. Agutter, of Magdalen College[1278]. The _Lives_, the _Memoirs_, the _Essays_, both in prose and verse, which have been published concerning him, would make many volumes. The numerous attacks too upon him, I consider as part of his consequence, upon the principle which he himself so well knew and asserted[1279]. Many who trembled at his presence, were forward in assault, when they no longer apprehended danger. When one of his little pragmatical foes was invidiously snarling at his fame, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's table, the Reverend Dr. Parr exclaimed, with his usual bold animation, 'Ay, now that the old lion is dead, every ass thinks he may kick at him.'

A monument for him, in Westminster Abbey, was resolved upon soon after his death, and was supported by a most respectable contribution[1280]; but the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's having come to a resolution of admitting monuments there, upon a liberal and magnificent plan, that Cathedral was afterwards fixed on, as the place in which a cenotaph should be erected to his memory[1281]: and in the cathedral of his native city of Lichfield, a smaller one is to be erected. To compose his epitaph, could not but excite the warmest competition of genius[1282]. If _laudari à laudato viro_ be praise which is highly estimable[1283], I should not forgive myself were I to omit the following sepulchral verses on the authour of THE ENGLISH DICTIONARY, written by the Right Honourable Henry Flood[1284]:--

'No need of Latin or of Greek to grace
Our JOHNSON'S memory, or inscribe his grave;
His native language claims this mournful space,
To pay the Immortality he gave.'

The character of SAMUEL JOHNSON has, I trust, been so developed in the course of this work, that they who have honoured it with a perusal, may be considered as well acquainted with him. As, however, it may be expected that I should collect into one view the capital and distinguishing features of this extraordinary man, I shall endeavour to acquit myself of that part of my biographical undertaking[1285], however difficult it may be to do that which many of my readers will do better for themselves.

His figure was large and well formed, and his countenance of the cast of an ancient statue; yet his appearance was rendered strange and somewhat uncouth, by convulsive cramps, by the scars of that distemper which it was once imagined the royal touch could cure, and by a slovenly mode of dress. He had the use only of one eye; yet so much does mind govern and even supply the deficiency of organs, that his visual perceptions, as far as they extended, were uncommonly quick and accurate[1286]. So morbid was his temperament, that he never knew the natural joy of a free and vigorous use of his limbs: when he walked, it was like the struggling gait of one in fetters; when he rode, he had no command or direction of his horse, but was carried as if in a balloon[1287]. That with his constitution and habits of life he should have lived seventy-five years, is a proof that an inherent _vivida vis_[1288] is a powerful preservative of the human frame.

Man is, in general, made up of contradictory qualities; and these will ever shew themselves in strange succession, where a consistency in appearance at least, if not in reality, has not been attained by long habits of philosophical discipline. In proportion to the native vigour of the mind, the contradictory qualities will be the more prominent, and more difficult to be adjusted; and, therefore, we are not to wonder, that Johnson exhibited an eminent example of this remark which I have made upon human nature. At different times, he seemed a different man, in some respects; not, however, in any great or essential article, upon which he had fully employed his mind, and settled certain principles of duty, but only in his manners, and in the display of argument and fancy in his talk. He was prone to superstition, but not to credulity. Though his imagination might incline him to a belief of the marvellous and the mysterious, his vigorous reason examined the evidence with jealousy[1289]. He was a sincere and zealous Christian, of high Church-of-England and monarchical principles, which he would not tamely suffer to be questioned; and had, perhaps, at an early period, narrowed his mind somewhat too much, both as to religion and politicks. His being impressed with the danger of extreme latitude in either, though he was of a very independent spirit, occasioned his appearing somewhat unfavourable to the prevalence of that noble freedom of sentiment which is the best possession of man. Nor can it be denied, that he had many prejudices; which, however, frequently suggested many of his pointed sayings, that rather shew a playfulness of fancy than any settled malignity. He was steady and inflexible in maintaining the obligations of religion and morality; both from a regard for the order of society, and from a veneration for the GREAT SOURCE of all order; correct, nay stern in his taste; hard to please, and easily offended[1290]; impetuous and irritable in his temper, but of a most humane and benevolent heart[1291], which shewed itself not only in a most liberal charity, as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a thousand instances of active benevolence. He was afflicted with a bodily disease, which made him often restless and fretful; and with a constitutional melancholy, the clouds of which darkened the brightness of his fancy, and gave a gloomy cast to his whole course of thinking: we, therefore, ought not to wonder at his sallies of impatience and passion at any time; especially when provoked by obtrusive ignorance, or presuming petulance; and allowance must be made for his uttering hasty and satirical sallies even against his best friends. And, surely, when it is considered, that, 'amidst sickness and sorrow[1292],'he exerted his faculties in so many works for the benefit of mankind, and particularly that he atchieved the great and admirable DICTIONARY of our language, we must be astonished at his resolution. The solemn text, 'of him to whom much is given, much will be required[1293],' seems to have been ever present to his mind, in a rigorous sense, and to have made him dissatisfied with his labours and acts of goodness, however comparatively great; so that the unavoidable consciousness of his superiority was, in that respect, a cause of disquiet. He suffered so much from this, and from the gloom which perpetually haunted him, and made solitude frightful, that it may be said of him, 'If in this life only he had hope, he was of all men most miserable[1294].' He loved praise, when it was brought to him; but was too proud to seek for it. He was somewhat susceptible of flattery. As he was general and unconfined in his studies, he cannot be considered as master of any one particular science; but he had accumulated a vast and various collection of learning and knowledge, which was so arranged in his mind, as to be ever in readiness to be brought forth. But his superiority over other learned men consisted chiefly in what may be called the art of thinking, the art of using his mind; a certain continual power of seizing the useful substance of all that he knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and forcible manner; so that knowledge, which we often see to be no better than lumber in men of dull understanding, was, in him, true, evident, and actual wisdom. His moral precepts are practical; for they are drawn from an intimate acquaintance with human nature. His maxims carry conviction; for they are founded on the basis of common sense, and a very attentive and minute survey of real life. His mind was so full of imagery, that he might have been perpetually a poet; yet it is remarkable, that, however rich his prose is in this respect, his poetical pieces, in general, have not much of that splendour, but are rather distinguished by strong sentiment and acute observation, conveyed in harmonious and energetick verse, particularly in heroick couplets. Though usually grave, and even aweful, in his deportment, he possessed uncommon and peculiar powers of wit and humour; he frequently indulged himself in colloquial pleasantry; and the heartiest merriment[1295] was often enjoyed in his company; with this great advantage, that as it was entirely free from any poisonous tincture of vice or impiety, it was salutary to those who shared in it. He had accustomed himself to such accuracy in his common conversation[1296], that he at all times expressed his thoughts with great force, and an elegant choice of language, the effect of which was aided by his having a loud voice, and a slow deliberate utterance[1297]. In him were united a most logical head with a most fertile imagination, which gave him an extraordinary advantage in arguing: for he could reason close or wide, as he saw best for the moment. Exulting in his intellectual strength and dexterity, he could, when he pleased, be the greatest sophist that ever contended in the lists of declamation; and, from a spirit of contradiction and a delight in shewing his powers, he would often maintain the wrong side with equal warmth and ingenuity; so that, when there was an audience, his real opinions could seldom be gathered from his talk[1298]; though when he was in company with a single friend, he would discuss a subject with genuine fairness: but he was too conscientious to make errour permanent and pernicious, by deliberately writing it; and, in all his numerous works, he earnestly inculcated what appeared to him to be the truth; his piety being constant, and the ruling principle of all his conduct[1299].

Such was SAMUEL JOHNSON, a man whose talents, acquirements, and virtues, were so extraordinary, that the more his character is considered, the more he will be regarded by the present age, and by posterity, with admiration and reverence[1300].

APPENDIX A.

(_Page_ 115, _note_ 4.)

There are at least three accounts of this altercation and three versions of the lines. Two of these versions nearly agree. The earliest is found in a letter by Richard Burke, senior, dated Jan. 6, 1773 (_Burke Corres_. i. 403); the second in _The Annual Register_ for 1776, p. 223; and the third in Miss Reynolds's _Recollections_ (Croker's _Boswell_, 8vo. p. 833). R. Burke places the scene in Reynolds's house. Whether he himself was present is not clear. 'The dean,' he says, 'asserted that after forty-five a man did not improve. "I differ with you, Sir," answered Johnson; "a man may improve, and you yourself have great room for improvement." The dean was confounded, and for the instant silent. Recovering, he said, "On recollection I see no cause to alter my opinion, except I was to call it improvement for a man to grow (which I allow he may) positive, rude, and insolent, and save arguments by brutality."' Neither the _Annual Register_ nor Miss Reynolds reports the Dean's speech. But she says that 'soon after the ladies withdrew, Dr. Johnson followed them, and sitting down by the lady of the house [that is by herself, if they were at Sir Joshua's] he said, "I am very sorry for having spoken so rudely to the Dean." "You very well may, Sir." "Yes," he said, "it was highly improper to speak in that style to a minister of the gospel, and I am the more hurt on reflecting with what mild dignity he received it."' If Johnson really spoke of the Dean's _mild dignity_, it is clear that Richard Burke's account is wrong. But it was written just after the scene, and Boswell says there was 'a pretty smart altercation.' Miss Reynolds continues:--'When the Dean came up into the drawing-room, Dr. Johnson immediately rose from his seat, and made him sit on the sofa by him, and with such a beseeching look for pardon and with such fond gestures--literally smoothing down his arms and his knees,' &c. The _Annual Register_ says that Barnard the next day sent the verses addressed to 'Sir Joshua Reynolds & Co.' On the next page I give Richard Burke's version of the lines, and show the various readings.

MISS REYNOLD'S RICHARD BURKE'S VERSION. _Annual Register_
VERSION
I lately thought no man alive
Could e'er improve past forty-five,
And ventured to assert it;
The observation was not new,
But seem'd to me so just and true,
That none could controvert it.

'No, Sir,' says Johnson, ''tis not so;
'Tis _That's_ your mistake, and I can show
An instance, if you doubt it;
You who perhaps are _You, Sir, who are near_ forty-eight,
still May _much_ improve, 'tis not too late;
I wish you'd set about it.'

Encouraged thus to mend my faults,
I turn'd his counsel in my thoughts,
could Which way I _should_ apply it:
Genius I knew was _Learning and wit seem'd_ past my reach,
what none can For who can learn _where none will_ teach? when
And wit--I could not buy it.

Then come, my friends, and try your skill,
may You _can improve me, if you will; inform
(My books are at a distance).
With you I'll live and learn; and then
Instead of books I shall read men,
_So_ lend me your assistance. To

Dear Knight of Plympton[1301], teach me how unclouded To suffer with _unruffled_ brow, as And smile serene _like_ thine, and The jest uncouth _or_ truth severe, Like thee to turn _To such apply_ my deafest ear, To such And calmly drink my wine. I'll turn

Thou say'st, not only skill is gain'd, attained But genius too may be _obtain'd_, attained invitation By studious _imitation_; Thy temper mild, thy genius fine, study I'll _copy_ till I make _them_ mine, thee meditation By constant _application_.

Thy art of pleasing teach me, Garrick,
reverest (_sic_) Thou who _reversest_ odes Pindarick[1302],
A second time read o'er;
Oh! could we read thee backwards too,
Past _Last_ thirty years thou shouldst review,
And charm us thirty more.

If I have thoughts and can't express 'em,
Gibbon shall teach me how to dress 'em
In terms select and terse;
Jones teach me modesty--and Greek;
Smith how to think; _Burke_ how to speak, Burk
And Beauclerk to converse.

Let Johnson teach me how to place
In fairest light each borrowed grace,
From him I'll learn to write;
free and easy Copy his _clear and easy_ style, clear
And from the roughness of his file, familiar
like Grow _as_ himself--polite.' like

Horace Walpole, on Dec. 27, 1775, speaks of these verses as if they were fresh. 'They are an answer,' he writes, 'to a gross brutality of Dr. Johnson, to which a properer answer would have been to fling a glass of wine in his face. I have no patience with an unfortunate monster trusting to his helpless deformity for indemnity for any impertinence that his arrogance suggests, and who thinks that what he has read is an excuse for everything he says.' Horace Walpole's _Letters,_ vi. 302. It is strange that Walpole should be so utterly ignorant of Johnson's courage and bodily strength. The date of Walpole's letter makes me suspect that Richard Burke dated his Jan. 6, 1775 (he should have written 1776), and that the blunder of a copyist has changed 1775 into 1773.

APPENDIX B.

(_Page_ 238.)

Had Boswell continued the quotation from Priestley's _Illustrations of Philosophical Necessity_ he would have shown that though Priestley could not _hate_ the rioters, he could very easily _prosecute_ them. He says:--

'If as a Necessarian I cease to _blame_ men for their vices in the ultimate sense of the word, though, in the common and proper sense of it, I continue to do as much as other persons (for how necessarily soever they act, they are influenced by a base and mischievous disposition of mind, against which I must guard myself and others in proportion as I love myself and others),' &c. Priestley's _Works_, iii. 508.

Of his interview with Johnson, Priestley, in his _Appeal to the Public_, part ii, published in 1792 (_Works_, xix. 502), thus writes, answering 'the impudent falsehood that when I was at Oxford Dr. Johnson left a company on my being introduced to it':--

'In fact we never were at Oxford at the same time, and the only interview I ever had with him was at Mr. Paradise's, where we dined together at his own request. He was particularly civil to me, and promised to call upon me the next time he should go through Birmingham. He behaved with the same civility to Dr. Price, when they supped together at Dr. Adams's at Oxford. Several circumstances show that Dr. Johnson had not so much of bigotry at the decline of life as had distinguished him before, on which account it is well known to all our common acquaintance, that I declined all their pressing solicitations to be introduced to him.'

Priestley expresses himself ill, but his meaning can be made out. Parr answered Boswell in the March number of the _Gent. Mag._ for 1795, p. 179. But the evidence that he brings is rendered needless by Priestley's positive statement. May peace henceforth fall on 'Priestley's injured name.' (Mrs. Barbauld's _Poems_, ii. 243.)

When Boswell asserts that Johnson 'was particularly resolute in not giving countenance to men whose writings he considered as pernicious to society,' he forgets that that very summer of 1783 he had been willing to dine at Wilkes's house (_ante_, p. 224, note 2).

Dr. Franklin (_Memoirs_, ed. 1833, iii. 157) wrote to Dr. Price in 1784:--'It is said that scarce anybody but yourself and Dr. Priestley possesses the art of knowing how to differ decently.' Gibbon (_Misc. Works_, i. 304), describing in 1789 the honestest members of the French Assembly, calls them 'a set of wild visionaries, like our Dr. Price, who gravely debate, and dream about the establishment of a pure and perfect democracy of five and twenty millions, the virtues of the golden age, and the primitive rights and equality of mankind.' Admiration of Price made Samuel Rogers, when a boy, wish to be a preacher. 'I thought there was nothing on earth so _grand_ as to figure in a pulpit. Dr. Price lived much in the society of Lord Lansdowne [Earl of Shelburne] and other people of rank; and his manners were extremely polished. In the pulpit he was great indeed.' Rogers's _Table Talk_, p. 3.

The full title of the tract mentioned by Boswell is, _A small Whole-Length of Dr. Priestley from his Printed Works_. It was published in 1792, and is a very poor piece of writing.

Johnson had refused to meet the Abbé Raynal, the author of the _Histoire Philosophique et Politique du Commerce des Deux Indes_, when he was over in England in 1777. Mrs. Chapone, writing to Mrs. Carter on June 15 of that year, says:--

'I suppose you have heard a great deal of the Abbé Raynal, who is in London. I fancy you would have served him as Dr. Johnson did, to whom when Mrs. Vesey introduced him, he turned from him, and said he had read his book, and would have nothing to say to him.' Mrs. Chapone's _Posthumous Works_, i. 172.

See Walpole's _Letters_, v. 421, and vi. 444. His book was burnt by the common hangman in Paris. Carlyle's _French Revolution_, ed. 1857, i. 45.

APPENDIX C.

(_Page 253_.)

Hawkins gives the two following notes:--

'DEAR SIR,

'As Mr. Ryland was talking with me of old friends and past times, we warmed ourselves into a wish, that all who remained of the club should meet and dine at the house which once was Horseman's, in Ivy-lane. I have undertaken to solicit you, and therefore desire you to tell on what day next week you can conveniently meet your old friends.

'I am, Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Bolt-court, Nov. 22, 1783.'

'DEAR SIR,

'In perambulating Ivy-lane, Mr. Ryland found neither our landlord Horseman, nor his successor. The old house is shut up, and he liked not the appearance of any near it; he therefore bespoke our dinner at the Queen's Arms, in St. Paul's Church-yard, where, at half an hour after three, your company will be desired to-day by those who remain of our former society.

'Your humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Dec. 3.'

Four met--Johnson, Hawkins, Ryland, and Payne (_ante_, i. 243).

'We dined,' Hawkins continues, 'and in the evening regaled with coffee. At ten we broke up, much to the regret of Johnson, who proposed staying; but finding us inclined to separate, he left us with a sigh that seemed to come from his heart, lamenting that he was retiring to solitude and cheerless meditation.' Hawkins's _Johnson_, p. 562.

Hawkins is mistaken in saying that they had a second meeting at a tavern at the end of a month; for Johnson, on March 10, 1784, wrote:--

'I have been confined from the fourteenth of December, and know not when I shall get out.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 351.

He thus describes these meetings:--

'Dec. 13. I dined about a fortnight ago with three old friends; we had not met together for thirty years, and one of us thought the other grown very old. In the thirty years two of our set have died; our meeting may be supposed to be somewhat tender.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 339.

'Jan. 12, 1784. I had the same old friends to dine with me on Wednesday, and may say that since I lost sight of you I have had one pleasant day.' Ib. p. 346.

'April 15, 1784. Yesterday I had the pleasure of giving another dinner to the remainder of the old club. We used to meet weekly, about the year fifty, and we were as cheerful as in former times; only I could not make quite so much noise, for since the paralytick affliction my voice is sometimes weak.' Ib. p. 361.

'April 19, 1784. The people whom I mentioned in my letter are the remnant of a little club that used to meet in Ivy-lane about three and thirty years ago, out of which we have lost Hawkesworth and Dyer; the rest are yet on this side the grave. Our meetings now are serious, and I think on all parts tender.' Ib. 363.

See _ante_, i. 191, note 5.

APPENDIX D.

(_Page 254_.)

It is likely that Sir Joshua Reynolds refused to join the Essex Head Club because he did not wish to meet Barry. Not long before this time he had censured Barry's delay in entering upon his duties as Professor of painting.

'Barry answered:--"If I had no more to do in the composition of my lectures than to produce such poor flimsy stuff as your discourses, I should soon have done my work, and be prepared to read." It is said this speech was delivered with his fist clenched, in a menacing posture.' (Northcote's _Life of Reynolds_, ii. 146.)

The Hon. Daines Barrington was the author of an _Essay on the Migration of Birds_ (_ante_, ii. 248) and of _Observations on the Statutes_ (_ante_, iii. 314). Horace Walpole wrote on Nov. 24, 1780 (_Letters_, vii. 464):--

'I am sorry for the Dean of Exeter; if he dies I conclude the leaden mace of the Antiquarian Society will be given to Judge Barrington.' (He was 'second Justice of Chester.')

For Dr. Brocklesby see _ante_, pp. 176, 230, 338, 400.

Of Mr. John Nichols, Murphy says that 'his attachment to Dr. Johnson was unwearied.' _Life of Johnson_, p. 66. He was the printer of _The Lives of the Poets_ (_ante_, p. 36), and the author of _Biographical and Literary Anecdotes of William Bowyer, Printer_, 'the last of the learned printers,' whose apprentice he had been (_ante_, p. 369). Horace Walpole (_Letters_, viii. 259) says:--

'I scarce ever saw a book so correct as Mr. Nichols's _Life of Mr. Bowyer_. I wish it deserved the pains he has bestowed on it every way, and that he would not dub so many men _great_. I have known several of his _heroes_, who were very _little_ men.'

The _Life of Bowyer_ being recast and enlarged was republished under the title of _Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century_. From 1778 till his death in 1826 the _Gentleman's Magazine_ was in great measure in his hands. Southey, writing in 1804, says:--

'I have begun to take in here at Keswick the _Gentleman's Magazine_, _alias_ the _Oldwomania_, to enlighten a Portuguese student among the mountains; it does amuse me by its exquisite inanity, and the glorious and intense stupidity of its correspondents; it is, in truth, a disgrace to the age and the country.' Southey's _Life and Correspondence_, ii. 281.

Mr. William Cooke, 'commonly called Conversation Cooke,' wrote _Lives of Macklin and Foote_. Forster's _Essays_, ii. 312, and _Gent. Mag._ 1824, p. 374. Mr. Richard Paul Joddrel, or Jodrell, was the author of _The Persian Heroine, a Tragedy_, which, in Baker's _Biog. Dram._ i. 400, is wrongly assigned to Sir R.P. Jodrell, M.D. Nichols's _Lit. Anec._ ix. 2.

For Mr. Paradise see _ante_, p. 364, note 2.

Dr. Horsley was the controversialist, later on Bishop of St. David's and next of Rochester. Gibbon makes splendid mention of him (_Misc. Works_, i. 232) when he tells how 'Dr. Priestley's Socinian shield has repeatedly been pierced by the mighty spear of Horsley.' Windham, however, in his _Diary_ in one place (p. 125) speaks of him as having his thoughts 'intent wholly on prospects of Church preferment;' and in another place (p. 275) says that 'he often lays down with great confidence what turns out afterwards to be wrong.' In the House of Lords he once said that 'he did not know what the mass of the people in any country had to do with the laws but to obey them.' _Parl. Hist_. xxxii. 258. Thurlow rewarded him for his _Letters to Priestley_ by a stall at Gloucester, 'saying that "those who supported the Church should be supported by it."' Campbell's _Chancellors_, ed. 1846, v. 635.

For Mr. Windham, see _ante_, p. 200.

Hawkins (_Life of Johnson_, p. 567) thus writes of the formation of the Club:--

'I was not made privy to this his intention, but all circumstances considered, 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 designation of this club as a sixpenny club, meeting at an ale-house. ... Honestly speaking, I dare say my father did not like being passed over.'

Sir Joshua Reynolds, writing of the club, says:--

'Any company was better than none; by which Johnson connected himself with many mean persons whose presence he could command. For this purpose he established a club at a little ale-house in Essex-street, composed of a strange mixture of very learned and very ingenious odd people. Of the former were Dr. Heberden, Mr. Windham, Mr. Boswell, Mr. Steevens, Mr. Paradise. Those of the latter I do not think proper to enumerate.' Taylor's _Life of Reynolds_, ii. 455.

It is possible that Reynolds had never seen the Essex Head, and that the term 'little ale-house' he had borrowed from Hawkins's account. Possibly too his disgust at Barry here found vent. Murphy (_Life of Johnson_, p. 124) says:--

'The members of the club were respectable for their rank, their talents, and their literature.'

The 'little ale-house' club saw one of its members, Alderman Clarke (_ante_, p. 258), Lord Mayor within a year; another, Horsley, a Bishop within five years; and a third, Windham, Secretary at War within ten years. Nichols (_Literary Anecdotes_, ii. 553) gives a list of the 'constant members' at the time of Johnson's death.

APPENDIX E.

(Page 399.)

Miss Burney's account of Johnson's last days is interesting, but her dates are confused more even than is common with her. I have corrected them as well as I can.

'Dec. 9. He will not, it seems, be talked to--at least very rarely. At times indeed he re-animates; but it is soon over and he says of himself:--"I am now like Macbeth--question enrages me."'

'Dec. 10. At night my father brought us the most dismal tidings of dear Dr. Johnson. He had thanked and taken leave of all his physicians. Alas! I shall lose him, and he will take no leave of me. My father was deeply depressed. I hear from everyone he is now perfectly resigned to his approaching fate, and no longer in terror of death.'

'Dec. 11. My father in the morning saw this first of men. He was up and very composed. He took his hand very kindly, asked after all his family, and then in particular how Fanny did. "I hope," he said, "Fanny did not take it amiss that I did not see her. I was very bad. Tell Fanny to pray for me." After which, still grasping his hand, he made a prayer for himself, the most fervent, pious, humble, eloquent, and touching, my father says, that ever was composed. Oh! would I had heard it! He ended it with Amen! in which my father joined, and was echoed by all present; and again, when my father was leaving him, he brightened up, something of his arch look returned, and he said: "I think I shall throw the ball at Fanny yet."'

'Dec. 12. [Miss Burney called at Bolt-court.] All the rest went away but a Mrs. Davis, a good sort of woman, whom this truly charitable soul had sent for to take a dinner at his house. [See _ante_, p. 239, note 2.] Mr. Langton then came. He could not look at me, and I turned away from him. Mrs. Davis asked how the Doctor was. "Going on to death very fast," was his mournful answer. "Has he taken," said she, "anything?" "Nothing at all. We carried him some bread and milk--he refused it, and said:--'The less the better.'"'

'Dec. 20. This day was the ever-honoured, ever-lamented Dr. Johnson committed to the earth. Oh, how sad a day to me! My father attended. I could not keep my eyes dry all day; nor can I now in the recollecting it; but let me pass over what to mourn is now so vain.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 333-339.

APPENDIX F.

(_Notes on Boswell's note on pages 403-405_.)

[F-1] In a letter quoted in Mr. Croker's Boswell, p. 427, Dr. Johnson calls Thomas Johnson 'cousin,' and says that in the last sixteen months he had given him £40. He mentions his death in 1779. _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 45.

[F-2] Hawkins (_Life_, p. 603) says that Elizabeth Herne was Johnson's first-cousin, and that he had constantly--how long he does not say--contributed £15 towards her maintenance.

[F-3] For Mauritius Lowe, see _ante_, iii. 324, and iv. 201.

[F-4] To Mr. Windham, two days earlier, he had given a copy of the _New Testament_, saying:--'Extremum hoc munus morientis habeto.' Windham's _Diary_, p. 28.

[F-5] For Mrs. Gardiner see _ante_, i. 242.

[F-6] Mr. John Desmoulins was the son of Mrs. Desmoulins (_ante_, iii. 222, 368), and the grandson of Johnson's god-father, Dr. Swinfen (_ante_, i. 34). Johnson mentions him in a letter to Mrs. Thrale in 1778. 'Young Desmoulins is taken in an _under-something_ of Drury Lane; he knows not, I believe, his own denomination.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 25.

[F-7] The reference is to _The Rambler_, No. 41 (not 42 as Boswell says), where Johnson mentions 'those vexations and anxieties with which all human enjoyments are polluted.'

[F-8] Bishop Sanderson described his soul as 'infinitely polluted with sin.' Walton's _Lives_, ed. 1838, p. 396.

[F-9] Hume, writing in 1742 about his _Essays Moral and Political_, says:--

'Innys, the great bookseller in Paul's Church-yard, wonders there is not a new edition, for that he cannot find copies for his customers.' J.H. Burton's _Hume_, i. 143.

[F-10] Nichols (_Lit. Anec._ ii. 554) says that, on Dec. 7,

'Johnson asked him whether any of the family of Faden 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."'

[F-11] Nowhere does Hawkins more shew the malignancy of his character than in his attacks on Johnson's black servant, and through him on Johnson. With the passage in which this offensive _caveat_ is found he brings his work to a close. At the first mention of Frank (_Life_, p. 328) he says:--

'His first master had _in great humanity_ made him a Christian, and his last for no assignable reason, nay rather in despite of nature, and to unfit him for being useful according to his capacity, determined to make him a scholar.'

But Hawkins was a brutal fellow. See _ante_, i. 27, note 2, and 28, note 1.

[F-12] Johnson had written to Taylor on Oct. 23 of this year:--

'"Coming down from a very restless night I found your letter, which made me a little angry. You tell me that recovery is in my power. This indeed I should be glad to hear if I could once believe it. But you mean to charge me with neglecting or opposing my own health. Tell me, therefore, what I do that hurts me, and what I neglect that would help me." This letter is endorsed by Taylor: "This is the last letter. My answer, which were (_sic_) the words of advice he gave to Mr. Thrale the day he dyed, he resented extremely from me."' Mr. Alfred Morrison's _Collection of Autographs_, &c., ii. 343.

'The words of advice' which were given to Mr. Thrale _the day before_ the fatal fit seized him, were that he should abstain from full meals. _Ante_, iv. 84, note 4. Johnson's resentment of Taylor's advice may account for the absence of his name in his will.

[F-13] They were sold in 650 Lots, in a four days' sale. Besides the books there were 146 portraits, of which 61 were framed and glazed. These prints in their frames were sold in lots of 4, 8, and even 10 together, though certainly some of them--and perhaps many--were engravings from Reynolds. The Catalogue of the sale is in the Bodleian Library.

APPENDIX G.

(_Notes on Boswell's note on page 408_.)

[G-1] Mrs. Piozzi records (_Anecdotes_, p. 120) that Johnson told her,--

'When Boyse 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 ketch-up; 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.'

Hawkins (_Life_, p. 159) gives 1740 as the year of Boyse's destitution.

'He was,' he says, 'confined to a bed which had no sheets; here, to procure food, he wrote; his posture sitting up in bed, his only covering a blanket, in which a hole was made to admit of the employment of his arm.'

Two years later Boyse wrote the following verses to Cave from a spunging-house:--

'Hodie, teste coelo summo,
Sine pane, sine nummo,
Sorte positus infeste,
Scribo tibi dolens moeste.
Fame, bile tumet jecur:
Urbane, mitte opem, precor.
Tibi enim cor humanum
Non a malis alienum:
Mihi mens nee male grato,
Pro a te favore dato.
Ex gehenna debitoria,
Vulgo, domo spongiatoria.'

He adds that he hopes to have his _Ode on the British Nation_ done that day. This _Ode_, which is given in the _Gent. Mag._ 1742, p. 383, contains the following verse, which contrasts sadly with the poor poet's case:--

'Thou, sacred isle, amidst thy ambient main,
_Enjoyst the sweets of freedom_ all thy own.'

[G-2] It is not likely that Johnson called a sixpence 'a serious consideration.' He who in his youth would not let his comrades say _prodigious_ (_ante/_, in. 303) was not likely in his old age so to misuse a word.

[G-3] Hugh Kelly is mentioned _ante_, ii. 48, note 2, and iii. 113.

[G-4] It was not on the return from Sky, but on the voyage from Sky to Rasay, that the spurs were lost. _Post_, v. 163.

[G-5] Dr. White's _Bampton Lectures_ of 1784 'became part of the triumphant literature of the University of Oxford,' and got the preacher a Christ Church Canonry. Of these _Lectures_ Dr. Parr had written about one-fifth part. White, writing to Parr about a passage in the manuscript of the last Lecture, said:--'I fear I did not clearly explain myself; I humbly beg the favour of you to make my meaning more intelligible.' On the death of Mr. Badcock in 1788, a note for £500 from White was found in his pocket-book. White pretended that this was remuneration for some other work; but it was believed on good grounds that Badcock had begun what Parr had completed, and that these famous _Lectures_ were mainly their work. Badcock was one of the writers in the _Monthly Review_. Johnstone's _Life of Dr. Parr_, i. 218-278. For Badcock's correspondence with the editor of the _Monthly Review_, see _Bodleian_ MS. _Add._ C. 90.

[G-6] 'Virgilium vidi tantum.' Ovid, _Tristia_, iv. 10. 51.

[G-7] Mackintosh says of Priestley:--'Frankness and disinterestedness in the avowal of his opinion were his point of honour.' He goes on to point out that there was 'great mental power in him wasted and scattered.' _Life of Mackintosh_, i. 349. See _ante_, ii. 124, and iv. 238 for Johnson's opinion of Priestley.

[G-8] Badcock, in using the term 'index-scholar,' was referring no doubt to Pope's lines:--

'How Index-learning turns no student pale, Yet holds the eel of science by the tail.'

_Dunciad_, i. 279.

APPENDIX H.

(_Notes on Boswell's note on pages 421-422_.)

[H-1] The last lines of the inscription on this urn are borrowed, with a slight change, from the last paragraph of the last _Rambler/_. (Johnson's _Works_, iii. 465, and _ante_, i. 226.) Johnson visited Colonel Myddelton on August 29, 1774, in his Tour to Wales. See _post_, v. 453.

[H-2] Johnson, writing to Dr. Taylor on Sept. 3, 1783, said:--'I sat to Opey (sic) as long as he desired, and I think the head is finished, but it is not much admired.' _Notes and Queries_, 6th S. v. 481. Hawkins (_Life of Johnson_, p. 569) says that in 1784 'Johnson resumed sitting to Opie, but,' he adds, 'I believe the picture was never finished.'

[H-3] Of this picture, which was the one painted for Beauclerk (_ante_, p. 180), it is stated in Johnson's _Work_, ed. 1787, xi. 204, that 'there is in it that appearance of a labouring working mind, of an indolent reposing body, which he had to a very great degree.'

[H-4] It seems almost certain that the portrait of Johnson in the Common Room of University College, Oxford, is this very mezzotinto. It was given to the College by Sir William Scott, and it is a mezzotinto from Opie's portrait. It has been reproduced for this work, and will be found facing page 244 of volume iii. Scott's inscription on the back of the frame is given on page 245, note 3, of the same volume.

APPENDIX I.

(_Page_ 424.)

Boswell most likely never knew that in the year 1790 Mr. Seward, in the name of Cadell the publisher, had asked Parr to write a _Life of Johnson_. (Johnstone's _Life of Parr_, iv. 678.) Parr, in his amusing vanity, was as proud of this _Life_ as if he had written it. '"It would have been," he said, "the third most learned work that has ever yet appeared. The most learned work ever published I consider Bentley _On the Epistles of Phalaris_; the next Salmasius _On the Hellenistic Language_." Alluding to Boswell's Life he continued, "Mine should have been, not the droppings of his lips, but the history of his mind."' Field's _Life of Parr_, i. 164.

In the epitaph that he first sent in were found the words 'Probabili Poetae.'

'In arms,' wrote Parr, 'were all the Johnsonians: Malone, Steevens, Sir W. Scott, Windham, and even Fox, all in arms. The epithet was cold. They do not understand it, and I am a Scholar, not a Belles-Lettres man.'

Parr had wished to pass over all notice of Johnson's poetical character. To this, Malone said, none of his friends of the Literary Club would agree. He pointed out also that Parr had not noticed 'that part of Johnson's genius, which placed him on higher ground than perhaps any other quality that can be named--the universality of his knowledge, the promptness of his mind in producing it on all occasions in conversation, and the vivid eloquence with which he clothed his thoughts, however suddenly called upon.' Parr, regardless of Johnson's rule that 'in lapidary inscriptions a man is not upon oath' (_ante_, ii. 407), replied, that if he mentioned his conversation he should have to mention also his roughness in contradiction, &c. As for the epithet _probabili_, he 'never reflected upon it without almost a triumphant feeling in its felicity.' Nevertheless he would change it into 'poetae sententiarum et verborum ponderibus admirabili.' Yet these words, 'energetic and sonorous' though they were, 'fill one with a secret and invincible loathing, because they tend to introduce into the epitaph a character of magnificence.' With every fresh objection he rose in importance. He wrote for the approbation of real scholars of generations yet unborn. 'That the epitaph was written by such or such a man will, from the publicity of the situation, and the popularity of the subject, be long remembered.' Johnstone's _Life of Parr_, iv. 694-712. No objection seems to have been raised to the five pompous lines of perplexing dates and numerals in which no room is found even for Johnson's birth and birth-place.

'After I had written the epitaph,' wrote Parr to a friend, 'Sir Joshua Reynolds told me there was a scroll. I was in a rage. A scroll! Why, Ned, this is vile modern contrivance. I wanted one train of ideas. What could I do with the scroll? Johnson held it, and Johnson must speak in it. I thought of this, his favourite maxim, in the Life of Milton, [Johnson's _Works_, vii. 77],

"[Greek: Otti toi en megaroisi kakon t agathon te tetuktai.]."

In Homer [_Odyssey_, iv. 392] you know--and shewing the excellence of Moral Philosophy. There Johnson and Socrates agree. Mr. Seward, hearing of my difficulty, and no scholar, suggested the closing line in the _Rambler_ [_ante_, i. 226, note 1]; had I looked there I should have anticipated the suggestion. It is the closing line in Dionysius's _Periegesis_,

"[Greek: Anton ek makaron antaxios eiae amoibae.]."

I adopted it, and gave Seward the praise. "Oh," quoth Sir William Scott, "_[Greek: makaron]_ is Heathenish, and the Dean and Chapter will hesitate." "The more fools they," said I. But to prevent disputes I have altered it.

"[Greek: En makaressi ponon antaxios ein amoibae]."
Johnstone's _Life of Parr_, iv. 713.

Though the inscription on the scroll is not strictly speaking part of the epitaph, yet this mixture of Greek and Latin is open to the censure Johnson passed on Pope's Epitaph on Craggs.

'It may be proper to remark,' he said, 'the absurdity of joining in the same inscription Latin and English, or verse and prose. If either language be preferable to the other, let that only be used; for no reason can be given why part of the information should be given in one tongue and part in another on a tomb more than in any other place, or on any other occasion.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 353.

Bacon the sculptor was anxious, wrote Malone, 'that posterity should know that he was entitled to annex R.A. to his name.' Parr was ready to give his name, lest if it were omitted 'Bacon should slily put the figure of a hog on Johnson's monument'; just as 'Saurus and Batrachus, when Octavia would not give them leave to set their names on the Temples they had built in Rome, scattered one of them [Greek: saurai] [lizards], and the other [Greek: batrachoi] [frogs] on the bases and capitals of the columns.' But as for the R.A., the sculptor 'very reluctantly had to agree to its omission.' Johnstone's _Parr_, iv. 705 and 710.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Nothing can compensate for this want this year of all years. Johnson's health was better than it had been for long, and his mind happier perhaps than it had ever been. The knowledge that in his _Lives of the Poets_, he had done, and was doing good work, no doubt was very cheering to him. At no time had he gone more into society, and at no time does he seem to have enjoyed it with greater relish. 'How do you think I live?' he wrote on April 25. 'On Thursday, I dined with Hamilton, and went thence to Mrs. Ord. On Friday, with much company at Reynolds's. On Saturday, at Dr. Bell's. On Sunday, at Dr. Burney's; at night, came Mrs. Ord, Mr. Greville, &c. On Monday with Reynolds, at night with Lady Lucan; to-day with Mr. Langton; to-morrow with the Bishop of St. Asaph; on Thursday with Mr. Bowles; Friday ----; Saturday, at the Academy; Sunday with Mr. Ramsay.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 107. On May 1, he wrote:--'At Mrs. Ord's, I met one Mrs. B---- [Buller], a travelled lady, of great spirit, and some consciousness of her own abilities. We had a contest of gallantry an hour long, so much to the diversion of the company that at Ramsay's last night, in a crowded room, they would have pitted us again. There were Smelt, [one of the King's favourites] and the Bishop of St. Asaph, who comes to every place; and Lord Monboddo, and Sir Joshua, and ladies out of tale.' _Ib_. p. 111. The account that Langton gives of the famous evening at Mrs. Vesey's, 'when the company began to collect round Johnson till they became not less than four, if not five deep (_ante_, May 2, 1780), is lively enough; but 'the particulars of the conversation' which he neglects, Boswell would have given us in full.

[2] In 1792, Miss Burney, after recording that Boswell told some of his Johnsonian stories, continues:--'Mr. Langton told some stories in imitation of Dr. Johnson; but they became him less than Mr. Boswell, and only reminded me of what Dr. Johnson himself once said to me--"Every man has some time in his life an ambition to be a wag."' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, v. 307.

[3] _Stephanorum Historia, vitas ipsorum ac libros complectens_. London, 1709.

[4] _Senilia_ was published in 1742. The line to which Johnson refers is, 'Mel, nervos, fulgur, Carteret, unus, habes,' p. 101. In another line, the poet celebrates Colley Cibber's Muse--the _Musa Cibberi_: 'Multa Cibberum levat aura.' p. 50. See Macaulay's Essays, ed. 1843, i. 367.

[5] _Graecae Linguae Dialecti in Scholae Westmonast. usum_, 1738.

[6] Giannone, an Italian historian, born 1676, died 1748. When he published his _History of the Kingdom of Naples_, a friend congratulating him on its success, said:--'Mon ami, vous vous êtes mis une couronne sur la tête, mais une couronne d'épines.' His attacks on the Church led to persecution, in the end he made a retractation, but nevertheless he died in prison. _Nouv. Biog. Gén._ xx. 422.

[7] See _ante_, ii. 119.

[8] 'There is no kind of impertinence more justly censurable than his who is always labouring to level thoughts to intellects higher than his own; who apologises for every word which his own narrowness of converse inclines him to think unusual; keeps the exuberance of his faculties under visible restraint; is solicitous to anticipate inquiries by needless explanations; and endeavours to shade his own abilities lest weak eyes should be dazzled with their lustre.' _The Rambler_, No. 173.

[9] Johnson, in his _Dictionary_, defines _Anfractuousness_ as _Fulness of windings and turnings_. _Anfractuosity_ is not given. Lord Macaulay, in the last sentence in his _Biography of Johnson_, alludes to this passage.

[10] See _ante_, iii. 149, note 2.

[11] 'My purpose was to admit no testimony of living authors, that I might not be misled by partiality, and that none of my contemporaries might have reason to complain; nor have I departed from this resolution, but when some performance of uncommon excellence excited my veneration, when my memory supplied me from late books with an example that was wanting, or when my heart, in the tenderness of friendship, solicited admission for a favourite name.' Johnson's _Works_, v. 39. He cites himself under _important_, Mrs. Lennox under _talent_, Garrick under _giggler_; from Richardson's _Clarissa_, he makes frequent quotations. In the fourth edition, published in 1773 (_ante_, ii. 203), he often quotes Reynolds; for instance, under _vulgarism_, which word is not in the previous editions. Beattie he quotes under _weak_, and Gray under _bosom_. He introduces also many quotations from Law, and Young. In the earlier editions, in his quotations from _Clarissa_, he very rarely gives the author's name; in the fourth edition I have found it rarely omitted.

[12] In one of his _Hypochondriacks_ (_London Mag._ 1782, p. 233) Boswell writes:--'I have heard it remarked by one, of whom more remarks deserve to be remembered than of any person I ever knew, that a man is often as narrow as he is prodigal for want of counting.'

[13] 'Sept. 1778. We began talking of _Irene_, and Mrs. Thrale made Dr. Johnson read some passages which I had been remarking as uncommonly applicable to the present time. He read several speeches, and told us he had not ever read so much of it before since it was first printed.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, i. 96. 'I was told,' wrote Sir Walter Scott, 'that a gentleman called Pot, or some such name, was introduced to him as a particular admirer of his. The Doctor growled and took no further notice. "He admires in especial your _Irene_ as the finest tragedy modern times;" to which the Doctor replied, "If Pot says so, Pot lies!" and relapsed into his reverie.' _Croker Corres._ ii. 32.

[14] _Scrupulosity_ was a word that Boswell had caught up from Johnson. Sir W. Jones (_Life_, i. 177) wrote in 1776:--'You will be able to examine with the minutest _scrupulosity_, as Johnson would call it.' Johnson describes Addison's prose as 'pure without scrupulosity.' _Works_, vii. 472. 'Swift,' he says, 'washed himself with oriental scrupulosity.' _Ib._ viii. 222. Boswell (_Hebrides_, Aug. 15) writes of 'scrupulosity of conscience.'

[15]

'When thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known.'
_The Tempest_, act i. sc. 2.

[16] Secretary to the British Herring Fishery, remarkable for an extraordinary number of occasional verses, not of eminent merit. BOSWELL. See _ante_, i. 115, note i. Lockman was known in France as the translator of Voltaire's _La Henriade_. See Marmontel's Preface. Voltaire's _Works_, ed. 1819, viii. 18.

[17] _Luke_ vii. 50. BOSWELL.

[18] Miss Burney, describing him in 1783, says:--'He looks unformed in his manners and awkward in his gestures. He joined not one word in the general talk.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 237. See _ante_, ii. 41, note 1.

[19] By Garrick.

[20] See _ante_, i. 201.

[21] See _post_, under Sept. 30, 1783.

[22] The actor. Churchill introduces him in _The Rosciad_ (_Poems_, i. 16):--'Next Holland came. With truly tragic stalk, He creeps, he flies. A Hero should not walk.'

[23] In a letter written by Johnson to a friend in 1742-43, he says: 'I never see Garrick.' MALONE.

[24] See _ante_, ii. 227.

[25] _The Wonder! A Woman keeps a Secret_, by Mrs. Centlivre. Acted at Drury Lane in 1714. Revived by Garrick in 1757. Reed's _Biog. Dram_. iii. 420.

[26] In _Macbeth_.