and was, at length (in 1773), prevailed on to set out. Where he went,
and what he saw and heard, is sufficiently known by the relation which
he gave the world next year, in his Journey to the Western Islands of
Scotland, and in his letters to Mrs. Thrale. It cannot be said of him,
as he has said of Gray, that whoever reads his narrative wishes that to
travel and to tell his travels had been more of his employment. He seems
to have proceeded on his way, with the view of finding something at
every turn, on which to exercise his powers of argument or of raillery.
His mind is scarcely ever passive to the objects it encounters, but
shapes them to his own moods. After we lay down his book, little
impression is left of the places through which he has passed, and a
strong one of his own character. With his fellow-traveller, though
kindness sometimes made him over-officious, he was so well pleased, as
to project a voyage up the Baltic, and a visit to the northern countries
of Europe, in his society. He had before indulged himself with a
visionary scheme of sailing to Iceland, with his friend Bathurst. In
1774, he went with the Thrales to the extremity of North Wales. A few
trifling memoranda of this journey, which were found among his papers,
have been lately published; but, as he wrote to Boswell, he found the
country so little different from England, that it offered nothing to the
speculation of a traveller. Such was his apathy in a land
Where each old poetic mountain
Inspiration breathes around,
Every shade and hallow'd fountain
Murmurs deep a solemn sound.
In the following year (1775) he made his usual visit to the midland
counties, and accompanied the Thrales in a Tour to Paris, from whence
they returned by way of Rouen. This was the only time he was on the
Continent. It is to be regretted that he left only some imperfect notes
of his Journey; for there could scarcely have failed to be something
that would have gratified our curiosity in his observations on the
manners of a foreign country. We find him in the next year (1776)
removing from Johnson's Court, No. 7, to Bolt Court, Fleet-street, No.
8; from whence at different times he made excursions to Lichfield and
Ashbourne; to Bath with the Thrales; and, in the autumn, to
Brighthelmstone, where Mr. Thrale had a house. This gentleman had, for
some time, fed his expectations with the prospect of a journey to Italy.
"A man," said Johnson, "who has not been in Italy, is always conscious
of an inferiority, from his not having seen what it is expected a man
should see. The grand object of travelling is to see the shores of the
Mediterranean. All our religion, almost all our law, almost all our
arts, almost all that sets us above savages, has come to us from the
shores of the Mediterranean." Much as he had set his heart on this
journey, and magnificent as his conceptions were of the promised land,
he was employed with more advantage to his own country at home; for, at
the solicitation of the booksellers, he now (1777) undertook to write
the Lives of the English Poets. The judicious selection of the facts
which he relates, the vivacity of the narrative, the profoundness of the
observations, and the terseness of the style, render this the most
entertaining, as it is, perhaps, the most instructive of his works. His
criticisms, indeed, often betray either the want of a natural perception
for the higher beauties of poetry, or a taste unimproved by the diligent
study of the most perfect models; yet they are always acute, lucid, and
original. That his judgment is often warped by a political bias can
scarcely be doubted; but there is no good reason to suspect that it is
ever perverted by malevolence or envy. The booksellers left it to him to
name his price, which he modestly fixed at 200 guineas; though, as Mr.
Malone says, 1000 or 1500 would have been readily given if he had asked
it. As he proceeded, the work grew on his hands. In 1781 it was
completed; and another 100_l_. was voluntarily added to the sum which
had been at first agreed on. In the third edition, which was called for
in 1783, he made several alterations and additions; of which, to shew
the unreasonableness of murmurs respecting improved editions, it is
related in the Biographical Dictionary [12], on the information of Mr.
Nichols, that though they were printed separately, and offered gratis to
the purchasers of the former editions, scarcely a single copy was
demanded.
This was the last of his literary labours; nor do we hear of his writing
any thing for the press in the meanwhile, except such slight
compositions as a prologue for a comedy by Mr. Hugh Kelly, and a
dedication to the King of the Posthumous Works of Pearce, Bishop of
Rochester.
His body was weighed down with disease, and his mind clouded with
apprehensions of death. He sought for respite from these sufferings in
the usual means--in short visits to his native place, or to
Brighthelmstone, and in the establishment of new clubs. In 1781, another
of these societies was, by his desire, formed in the city. It was to
meet at the Queen's Arms, in St. Paul's Churchyard; and his wish was,
that no patriot should be admitted. He now returned to the use of wine,
which, when he did take it, he swallowed greedily.
About this time Mr. Thrale died, leaving Johnson one of his executors,
with a legacy of 200_l_. The death of Levett, in the same year, and of
Miss Williams, in 1783, left him yet more lonely. A few months before
the last of these deprivations befel him, he had a warning of his own
dissolution, which he could not easily mistake. The night of the 16th of
June, on which day he had been sitting for his picture, he perceived
himself, soon after going to bed, to be seized with a sudden confusion
and indistinctness in his head, which seemed to him to last about half a
minute. His first fear was lest his intellect should be affected. Of
this he made experiment, by turning into Latin verse a short prayer,
which he had breathed out for the averting of that calamity. The lines
were not good, but he knew that they were not so, and concluded his
faculties to be unimpaired. Soon after he was conscious of having
suffered a paralytic stroke, which had taken away his speech. "I had no
pain," he observed afterwards, "and so little dejection in this dreadful
state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and considered, that perhaps
death itself, when it should come, would excite less horror than seems
now to attend it." In hopes of stimulating the vocal organs, he
swallowed two drams, and agitated his body into violent motion, but it
was to no purpose; whereupon he returned to his bed, and, as he thought,
fell asleep. In the morning, finding that he had the use of his hand, he
was in the act of writing a note to his servant, when the man entered.
He then wrote a card to his friend and neighbour, Mr. Allen, the
printer, but not without difficulty, his hand sometimes, he knew not
why, making a different letter from that which he intended; his next
care was to acquaint Dr. Taylor, his old schoolfellow, and now a
prebendary of Westminster, with his condition, and to desire he would
come and bring Dr. Heberden with him. At the same time, he sent in for
Dr. Brocklesby, who was his near neighbour. The next day his speech was
restored, and he perceived no deterioration, either in his memory or
understanding. In the following month he was well enough to pass a week
at Rochester, with Mr. Langton, and to appear again at the Literary
Club; and at the end of August, to make a visit to Mr. Bowles, at Heale,
near Salisbury, where he continued about three weeks.
On his return to London, he was confined to the house by a fit of the
gout, a disorder which had once attacked him, but with less violence,
ten years before, and to which he was now reconciled, by being taught to
consider it as an antagonist to the palsy. To this was added, a
sarcocele, which, as it threatened to render excision necessary, caused
him more uneasiness, though he looked forward to the operation with
sufficient courage; but the complaint subsided of itself.
When he was able to go about again, that society might be insured to him
at least three days in the week, another club was founded at the Essex
Head, in Essex street, where an old servant of Mr. Thrale's was the
landlord. "Its principles (he said) were to be laid in frequency and
frugality; and he drew up a set of rules, which he prefaced with two
lines from a Sonnet of Milton.
To-day resolve deep thoughts with me to drench,
In mirth that after no repenting draws."
The number was limited to twenty-four. Each member present engaged
himself to spend at least sixpence; and, to pay a forfeit of three-pence
if he did not attend. But even here, in the club-room, after his
sixpence was duly laid down, and the arm chair taken, there was no
security for him against the intrusion of those maladies which had so
often assailed him. On the first night of meeting (13th of December,
1783) he was seized with a spasmodic asthma, and hardly made his way
home to his own house, where the dropsy combined with asthma to hold him
a prisoner for more than four months. An occurrence during his illness,
which he mentioned to Boswell, deserves notice, from the insight which
it gives into his peculiar frame of mind. "He had shut himself up, and
employed a day in particular exercises of religion--fasting,
humiliation, and prayer. On a sudden, he obtained extraordinary relief,
for which he looked up to heaven with grateful devotion. He made no
direct inference from the fact; but from his manner of telling it," adds
Boswell, "I could perceive that it appeared to him as something more
than an incident in the common course of events." Yet at this time, with
all his aspirations after a state of greater perfectness, he was not
able to bear the candour of Langton, who, when Johnson him desired to
tell him sincerely wherein he had observed his life to be faulty,
brought him a sheet of paper, on which were written many texts of
Scripture, recommendatory of Christian meekness.
At the beginning of June he had sufficiently rallied his strength to set
out with Boswell, for Oxford, where he remained about a fortnight, with
Dr. Adams, the master of Pembroke, his old college. In his discourse,
there was the same alternation of gloominess and gaiety, the same
promptness of repartee, and keenness of sarcasm, as there had ever been.
Several of his friends were now anxious that he should escape the rigour
of an English winter by repairing to Italy, a measure which his
physicians recommended, not very earnestly indeed, and more I think in
compliance with his known wishes, than in expectation of much benefit to
his health. It was thought requisite, however, that some addition should
previously be made to his income, in order to his maintaining an
appearance somewhat suitable to the character which he had established
throughout Europe by his writings. For this purpose, Boswell addressed
an application to the Ministry, through Lord Thurlow, who was then
Chancellor. After some accidental delay, and some unsuccessful
negotiation on the part of Lord Thurlow, who was well disposed to
befriend him, during which time Johnson was again buoyed up with the
prospect of visiting Italy, an answer was returned which left him no
reason to expect from Government any further assistance than that which
he was then receiving in the pension already granted him. This refusal
the Chancellor accompanied with a munificent offer of supply out of his
own purse, which he endeavoured to convey in such a manner as should
least alarm the independent spirit of Johnson. "It would be a reflection
on us all, (said Thurlow,) if such a man should perish for want of the
means to take care of his health." The abilities of Thurlow had always
been held in high estimation by Johnson, who had been heard to say of
him, "I would prepare myself for no man in England but Lord Thurlow.
When I am to meet with him, I should wish to know a day before." One
day, while this scheme was pending, Johnson being at the house of Sir
Joshua Reynolds, was overcome by the tenderness of his friends, and by
the near view, as he thought, of this long-hoped Italian tour being
effected, and exclaimed with much emotion, "God bless you all;" and
then, after a short silence, again repeating the words in a form yet
more solemn, was no longer able to command his feelings, but hurried
away to regain his composure in solitude.
After all these efforts, Johnson was fated to disappointment; and the
authors of his disappointment have incurred the sentence denounced on
them by the humanity of Thurlow. In this, Dr. Brocklesby, the physician,
has no share; for by him a noble offer of £100 a year was made to
Johnson during his life.
In the meantime he had paid the summer visit, which had now become
almost an annual one to his daughter-in-law, at Lichfield, from whence
he made an excursion to Dr. Taylor's, at Ashbourne, and to Chatsworth,
still labouring under his asthma, but willing to believe that as Floyer,
the celebrated physician of his native city, had been allowed to pant on
till near ninety, so he might also yet pant on a little longer. Whilst
he was on this journey, he translated an ode of Horace, and composed
several prayers. As he passed through Birmingham and Oxford, he once
more hailed his old schoolfellow Hector, and his fellow collegian,
Adams. It is delightful to see early intimacies thus enduring through
all the accidents of life, local attachments unsevered by time, and the
old age and childhood of man bound together by these natural charities.
The same willow tree which Johnson had known when a boy, was still his
favourite, and still flourishing in the meadow, near Lichfield. Hector
(whom I can remember several years after, a man of erect form, and grave
deportment) still met him with the same, or perhaps more cordiality than
in their first days; and the virtues of Adams, which he had seen opening
in their early promise, had now grown up to full maturity. To London he
returned, only to prove that death was not the terrible thing which he
had fancied it. He arrived there on the 15th of November. In little more
than a fortnight after, when Dr. Brocklesby (with whom three other
eminent physicians, and a chirurgeon, were in the habit of attending him
gratuitously) was paying him a morning visit, he said that he had been
as a dying man all night, and then with much emphasis repeated the words
of Macbeth:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain
And, with _some_ sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
To which Brocklesby promptly returned the answer, which is made by the
doctor in that play,
--Therein the patient
Must minister unto himself.
He now committed to the flames a large mass of papers, among which were
two 4to. volumes, containing a particular account of his life, from his
earliest recollections.
His few remaining days were occasionally cheered by the presence of such
men as have been collected about a death-bed in few ages and countries
of the world--Langton, Reynolds, Windham, and Burke. Of these, none was
more attentive to him than Mr. Langton, of whom he had been heard to
say, I could almost wish "anima mea sit cum Langtono," and whom he now
addressed in the tender words of Tibullus,
Te teneam moriens deficiente manu.
At another time, Burke, who was sitting with him in the company of four
or five others, expressed his fear that so large a number might be
oppressive to him, "No, Sir," said Johnson, "it is not so; and I must be
in a wretched state, indeed, when your company would not be a delight to
me." Burke's voice trembled, when he replied, "My dear Sir, you have
always been too good to me." These were the last words that passed
between them. Mr. Windham having settled a pillow for him, he thanked
him for his kindness.
This will do (said he,) all that a pillow can do. Of Sir Joshua Reynolds
he made three requests, which were readily granted; to forgive him
thirty pounds which he had borrowed of him; to read the Bible; and never
to use his pencil on a Sunday. The church service was frequently read to
him by some clergyman of his acquaintance. On one of these occasions,
when Mr. Nichols was present, he cried out to Mr. Hoole, who was reading
the Litany, "Louder, my dear Sir, louder, I entreat you, or you pray in
vain;" and when the service was done, he turned to a lady who had come
to pray with him, and said to her with much earnestness, "I thank you,
Madam, very heartily, for your kindness in joining me in this solemn
service. Live well, I conjure you, and you will not feel the compunction
at the last which I now feel."
He entreated Dr. Brocklesby to dismiss any vain speculative opinions
that he might entertain, and to settle his mind on the great truths of
Christianity. He then insisted on his writing down the purport of their
conversation; and when he had done, made him affix his signature to the
paper, and urged him to keep it for the remainder of his life. The
following is the account communicated to Boswell by this affectionate
physician, who was very free from any suspicion of fanaticism, as indeed
is well shewn by Johnson's discourse with him.
"For some time before his death, all his fears were calmed and absorbed
by the prevalence of his faith, and his trust in the merits and
propitiation of Jesus Christ." "He talked often to me about the
necessity of faith in the sacrifice of Jesus, as necessary beyond all
good works whatever, for the salvation of mankind." "He pressed me to
study Dr. Clarke, and to read his Sermons. I asked him why he pressed
Dr. Clarke, an Arian. 'Because (said he) he is fullest on the
propitiatory sacrifice.'" This was the more remarkable, because his
prejudice against Clarke, on account of the Arianism imputed to him, had
formerly been so strong, that he made it a rule not to admit his name
into his Dictionary.
He desired Dr. Brocklesby to tell him whether he could recover, charging
him to give a direct answer. The Doctor having first asked whether he
could bear to hear the whole truth, told him that without a miracle he
could not recover. "Then," said Johnson, "I will take no more physic, or
even opiates; for I have prayed that I may render up my soul to God
unclouded." He not only kept this resolution, but abstained from all
food, excepting such as was of the weakest kind. When Mr. Windham
pressed him to take something more generous, lest too poor a diet should
produce the effects which he dreaded, "I will take any thing," said he,
"but inebriating sustenance."
Mr. Strahan, the clergyman, who administered to him the comforts of
religion, affirmed that after having been much agitated, he became
tranquil, and continued so to the last.
On the eighth and ninth of December, he made his will, by which he
bequeathed the chief of his property to Francis Barber, his negro
servant. The value of this legacy is estimated by Sir John Hawkins, at
near £1500. From this time he languished on till the twelfth. That
night his bodily uneasiness increased; his attendants assisted him every
hour to raise himself in his bed, and move his legs, which were in much
pain; each time he prayed fervently; the only support he took was cyder
and water. He said he was prepared, but the time to his dissolution
seemed long. At six in the morning he inquired the hour; and, being
told, observed that all went on regularly, and that he had but a few
hours to live. In two hours after, he ordered his servant to bring him a
drawer, out of which he chose one lancet, from amongst some others, and
pierced his legs; and then seizing a pair of scissars that lay near him,
plunged them into both his calves, no doubt with the hopes of easing
them of the water; for he had often reproached his medical attendants
with want of courage in not scarifying them more deeply. At ten he
dismissed Mr. Windham's servant, who was one of those who had sat up
with him, thanking him, and desiring him to bear his remembrance to his
master. Afterwards a Miss Morris, the daughter of one of his friends,
came into the room to beg his blessing; of which, being informed by his
servant Francis, he turned round in his bed, and said to her, "God bless
you, my dear." About seven in the evening he expired so quietly, that
those about him did not perceive his departure. His body being opened,
two of the valves of the aorta were found to be ossified; the air cells
of the lungs unusually distended; one of the kidneys consumed, and the
liver schirrous. A stone, as large as a common gooseberry, was in the
gall-bladder.
On the 20th of December, he was interred in Westminster Abbey, under a
blue flagstone, which bears this inscription.
Samuel Johnson, LLD.
Obiit XIII. die Decembris,
Anno Domini
MDCCLXXXIV.
Aetatis suae LXXV.
He was attended to his grave by many of his friends, particularly such
members of the Literary Club as were then in London; the pall being
borne by Burke, Sir Joseph Banks, Windham, Langton, Sir Charles Bunbury,
and Colman. Monuments have been erected to his memory, in the cathedrals
of Lichfield and St. Paul's. That in the latter consists of his statue,
by Bacon, larger than life, with an epitaph from the pen of Dr. Parr.
[Greek: Alpha-Omega]
Samueli Johnson
Grammatico et Critico
Scriptorum Anglicorum litterate perito
Poetae luminibus sententiarum
Et ponderibus verborum admirabili
Magistro virtutis gravissimo
Homini optimo et singularis exempli.
Qui vixit ann. lxxv. Mens. il. Dieb. xiiiil.
Decessit idib. Dec. ann. Christ. clc. lccc. lxxxiiil.
Sepult. in AED. Sanct. Petr. Westmonasteriens.
xiil. Kal. Januar. Ann. Christ, clc. lccc. lxxxv.
Amici et Sodales Litterarii
Pecunia Conlata
H.M. Faciund. Curaver.
In the hand there is a scroll, with the following inscription:--
[Greek: ENMAKARESSIAPONOANTAXIOS EIAEAMOIBAE.]
Besides the numerous and various works which he executed, he had at
different times, formed schemes of a great many more, of which the
following catalogue was given by him to Mr. Langton, and by that
gentleman presented to his Majesty.
_Divinity_.
A small Book of Precepts and Directions for Piety; the hint taken from
the directions in Morton's exercise.
_Philosophy, History, and Literature in general._
History of Criticism, as it relates to judging of authors, from
Aristotle to the present age. An account of the rise and improvements of
that art: of the different opinions of authors, ancient and modern.
Translation of the History of Herodian.
New Edition of Fairfax's Translation of Tasso, with notes, glossary, &c.
Chaucer, a new edition of him, from manuscripts and old editions, with
various readings, conjectures, remarks on his language, and the changes
it had undergone from the earliest times to his age, and from his to the
present; with notes, explanatory of customs, &c. and references to
Boccace, and other authors from whom he has borrowed, with an account of
the liberties he has taken in telling the stories; his life, and an
exact etymological glossary.
Aristotle's Rhetoric, a translation of it into English.
A Collection of Letters, translated from the modern writers, with some
account of the several authors.
Oldham's Poems, with notes, historical and critical.
Roscommon's Poems, with notes.
Lives of the Philosophers, written with a polite air, in such a manner
as may divert as well as instruct.
History of the Heathen Mythology, with an explication of the fables,
both allegorical and historical; with references to the poets.
History of the State of Venice, in a compendious manner.
Aristotle's Ethics, an English translation of them, with notes.
Geographical Dictionary, from the French.
Hierocles upon Pythagoras, translated into English, perhaps with notes.
This is done by Norris.
A Book of Letters, upon all kinds of subjects.
Claudian, a new edition of his works, "cum notis variorum," in the
manner of Burman.
Tully's Tusculan Questions, a translation of them.
Tully's De Natura Deorum, a translation of those books.
Benzo's New History of the New World, to be translated.
Machiavel's History of Florence, to be translated.
History of the Revival of Learning in Europe, containing an account of
whatever contributed to the restoration of literature; such as
controversies, printing, the destruction of the Greek empire, the
encouragement of great men, with the lives of the most eminent patrons,
and most eminent early professors of all kinds of learning in different
countries.
A Body of Chronology, inverse, with historical notes.
A Table of the Spectators, Tatlers, and Guardians, distinguished by
figures into six degrees of value, with notes, giving the reasons of
preference or degradation.
A Collection of Letters from English Authors, with a preface, giving
some account of the writers; with reasons for selection, and criticism
upon styles; remarks on each letter, if needful.
A Collection of Proverbs from various languages.--Jan. 6--53.
A Dictionary to the Common Prayer, in imitation of Calmet's Dictionary
of the Bible.--March,--52.
A Collection of Stories and Examples, like those of Valerius Maximus.--
Jan. 10,--53.
From Elian, a volume of select Stories, perhaps from others.--Jan. 28,--
53.
Collection of Travels, Voyages, Adventures, and Descriptions of
Countries.