'July 25, 1776. O God, who hast ordained that whatever is to be desired
should be sought by labour, and who, by thy blessing, bringest 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.'
It appears from a note subjoined, that this was composed when he
'purposed to apply vigorously to study, particularly of the Greek and
Italian tongues.'
Such a purpose, so expressed, at the age of sixty-seven, is admirable
and encouraging; and it must impress all the thinking part of my readers
with a consolatory confidence in habitual devotion, when they see a man
of such enlarged intellectual powers as Johnson, thus in the genuine
earnestness of secrecy, imploring the aid of that Supreme Being, 'from
whom cometh down every good and every perfect gift.'
1777: AETAT. 68.]--In 1777, it appears from his Prayers and Meditations,
that Johnson suffered much from a state of mind 'unsettled and
perplexed,' and from that constitutional gloom, which, together with his
extreme humility and anxiety with regard to his religious state, made
him contemplate himself through too dark and unfavourable a medium. It
may be said of him, that he 'saw GOD in clouds.' Certain we may be of
his injustice to himself in the following lamentable paragraph, which it
is painful to think came from the contrite heart of this great man,
to whose labours the world is so much indebted: '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 deficiencies.' But we find his devotions in this year eminently
fervent; and we are comforted by observing intervals of quiet,
composure, and gladness.
On Easter-day we find the following emphatick prayer:
'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 incursion [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 Creator 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.'
'SIR ALEXANDER DICK TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
'Prestonfield, Feb. 17, 1777.
'SIR, I had yesterday the honour of receiving your book of your Journey
to the Western Islands of Scotland, which you was so good as to send me,
by the hands of our mutual friend, Mr. Boswell, of Auchinleck; for which
I return you my most hearty thanks; and after carefully reading it over
again, shall deposit in my little collection of choice books, next our
worthy friend's Journey to Corsica. As there are many things to admire
in both performances, I have often wished that no Travels or Journeys
should be published but those undertaken by persons of integrity and
capacity to judge well, and describe faithfully, and in good language,
the situation, condition, and manners of the countries past through.
Indeed our country of Scotland, in spite of the union of the crowns,
is still in most places so devoid of clothing, or cover from hedges and
plantations, that it was well you gave your readers a sound Monitoire
with respect to that circumstance. The truths you have told, and the
purity of the language in which they are expressed, as your Journey is
universally read, may, and already appear to have a very good effect.
For a man of my acquaintance, who has the largest nursery for trees and
hedges in this country, tells me, that of late the demand upon him for
these articles is doubled, and sometimes tripled. I have, therefore,
listed Dr. Samuel Johnson in some of my memorandums of the principal
planters and favourers of the enclosures, under a name which I took the
liberty to invent from the Greek, Papadendrion. Lord Auchinleck and some
few more are of the list. I am told that one gentleman in the shire of
Aberdeen, viz. Sir Archibald Grant, has planted above fifty millions of
trees on a piece of very wild ground at Monimusk: I must enquire if he
has fenced them well, before he enters my list; for, that is the soul
of enclosing. I began myself to plant a little, our ground being too
valuable for much, and that is now fifty years ago; and the trees, now
in my seventy-fourth year, I look up to with reverence, and shew them to
my eldest son now in his fifteenth year, and they are full the height
of my country-house here, where I had the pleasure of receiving you,
and hope again to have that satisfaction with our mutual friend, Mr.
Boswell. I shall always continue, with the truest esteem, dear Doctor,
your much obliged, and obedient humble servant,
'ALEXANDER DICK.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,--It is so long since I heard any thing from you, that I am
not easy about it; write something to me next post. When you sent your
last letter, every thing seemed to be mending; I hope nothing has lately
grown worse. I suppose young Alexander continues to thrive, and Veronica
is now very pretty company. I do not suppose the lady is yet reconciled
to me, yet let her know that I love her very well, and value her very
much. . . .
'Poor Beauclerk still continues very ill. Langton lives on as he used
to do. His children are very pretty, and, I think, his lady loses her
Scotch. Paoli I never see.
'I have been so distressed by difficulty of breathing, that I lost, as
was computed, six-and-thirty ounces of blood in a few days. I am better,
but not well. . . .
'Mrs. Williams sends her compliments, and promises that when you come
hither, she will accommodate you as well as ever she can in the old
room. She wishes to know whether you sent her book to Sir Alexander
Gordon.
'My dear Boswell, do not neglect to write to me; for your kindness is
one of the pleasures of my life, which I should be sorry to lose. I am,
Sir, your humble servant,
'February 18, 1777.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
'Glasgow, April 24, 1777.
'MY DEAR SIR, . . . My wife has made marmalade of oranges for you.
I left her and my daughters and Alexander all well yesterday. I have
taught Veronica to speak of you thus;--Dr. JohnSON, not JohnSTON. I
remain, my dear Sir, your most affectionate, and obliged humble servant,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR, . . . Tell Mrs. Boswell that I shall taste her marmalade
cautiously at first. Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. Beware, says the
Italian proverb, of a reconciled enemy. But when I find it does me no
harm, I shall then receive it and be thankful for it, as a pledge of
firm, and, I hope, of unalterable kindness. She is, after all, a dear,
dear lady. . . .
'I am, dear Sir, your most affectionate humble servant,
'May 3, 1777.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'Southill, Sept. 26, 1777.
'DEAR SIR, You will find by this letter, that I am still in the same
calm retreat, from the noise and bustle of London, as when I wrote to
you last. I am happy to find you had such an agreeable meeting with your
old friend Dr. Johnson; I have no doubt your stock is much increased by
the interview; few men, nay I may say, scarcely any man, has got that
fund of knowledge and entertainment as Dr. Johnson in conversation. When
he opens freely, every one is attentive to what he says, and cannot fail
of improvement as well as pleasure.
'The edition of The Poets, now printing, will do honour to the English
press; and a concise account of the life of each authour, by Dr.
Johnson, will be a very valuable addition, and stamp the reputation of
this edition superiour to any thing that is gone before. The first cause
that gave rise to this undertaking, I believe, was owing to the little
trifling edition of The Poets, printing by the Martins, at Edinburgh,
and to be sold by Bell, in London. Upon examining the volumes which were
printed, the type was found so extremely small, that many persons
could not read them; not only this inconvenience attended it, but the
inaccuracy of the press was very conspicuous. These reasons, as well as
the idea of an invasion of what we call our Literary Property, induced
the London Booksellers to print an elegant and accurate edition of all
the English Poets of reputation, from Chaucer to the present time.
'Accordingly a select number of the most respectable booksellers met
on the occasion; and, on consulting together, agreed, that all the
proprietors of copy-right in the various Poets should be summoned
together; and when their opinions were given, to proceed immediately on
the business. Accordingly a meeting was held, consisting of about forty
of the most respectable booksellers of London, when it was agreed
that an elegant and uniform edition of The English Poets should be
immediately printed, with a concise account of the life of each authour,
by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and that three persons should be deputed to
wait upon Dr. Johnson, to solicit him to undertake the Lives, viz., T.
Davies, Strahan, and Cadell. The Doctor very politely undertook it, and
seemed exceedingly pleased with the proposal. As to the terms, it was
left entirely to the Doctor to name his own: he mentioned two hundred
guineas:* it was immediately agreed to; and a farther compliment, I
believe, will be made him. A committee was likewise appointed to engage
the best engravers, viz., Bartolozzi, Sherwin, Hall, etc. Likewise
another committee for giving directions about the paper, printing, etc.,
so that the whole will be conducted with spirit, and in the best manner,
with respect to authourship, editorship, engravings, etc., etc. My
brother will give you a list of the Poets we mean to give, many of which
are within the time of the Act of Queen Anne, which Martin and Bell
cannot give, as they have no property in them; the proprietors are
almost all the booksellers in London, of consequence. I am, dear Sir,
ever your's,
'EDWARD DILLY.'
* Johnson's moderation in demanding so small a sum is
extraordinary. Had he asked one thousand, or even fifteen
hundred guineas, the booksellers, who knew the value of his
name, would doubtless have readily given it. They have
probably got five thousand guineas by this work in the
course of twenty-five years.--MALONE.
A circumstance which could not fail to be very pleasing to Johnson
occurred this year. The Tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, written by
his early companion in London, Richard Savage, was brought out with
alterations at Drury-lane theatre. The Prologue to it was written by Mr.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan; in which, after describing very pathetically
the wretchedness of
'Ill-fated Savage, at whose birth was giv'n
No parent but the Muse, no friend but Heav'n:'
he introduced an elegant compliment to Johnson on his Dictionary, that
wonderful performance which cannot be too often or too highly praised;
of which Mr. Harris, in his Philological Inquiries, justly and liberally
observes: 'Such is its merit, that our language does not possess a
more copious, learned, and valuable work.' The concluding lines of this
Prologue were these:--
'So pleads the tale that gives to future times
The son's misfortunes and the parent's crimes;
There shall his fame (if own'd to-night) survive,
Fix'd by THE HAND THAT BIDS OUR LANGUAGE LIVE.'
Mr. Sheridan here at once did honour to his taste and to his liberality
of sentiment, by shewing that he was not prejudiced from the unlucky
difference which had taken place between his worthy father and Dr.
Johnson. I have already mentioned, that Johnson was very desirous of
reconciliation with old Mr. Sheridan. It will, therefore, not seem at
all surprizing that he was zealous in acknowledging the brilliant
merit of his son. While it had as yet been displayed only in the drama,
Johnson proposed him as a member of THE LITERARY CLUB, observing,
that 'He who has written the two best comedies of his age, is surely a
considerable man.' And he had, accordingly, the honour to be elected;
for an honour it undoubtedly must be allowed to be, when it is
considered of whom that society consists, and that a single black ball
excludes a candidate.
On the 23rd of June, I again wrote to Dr. Johnson, enclosing a
ship-master's receipt for a jar of orange-marmalade, and a large packet
of Lord Hailes's Annals of Scotland.
'DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.
'MADAM,--Though I am well enough pleased with the taste of sweetmeats,
very little of the pleasure which I received at the arrival of your
jar of marmalade arose from eating it. I received it as a token of
friendship, as a proof of reconciliation, things much sweeter than
sweetmeats, and upon this consideration I return you, dear Madam,
my sincerest thanks. By having your kindness I think I have a double
security for the continuance of Mr. Boswell's, which it is not to be
expected that any man can long keep, when the influence of a lady so
highly and so justly valued operates against him. Mr. Boswell will tell
you that I was always faithful to your interest, and always endeavoured
to exalt you in his estimation. You must now do the same for me. We must
all help one another, and you must now consider me, as, dear Madam, your
most obliged, and most humble servant,
'July 22, 1777.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,--I am this day come to Ashbourne, and have only to tell
you, that Dr. Taylor says you shall be welcome to him, and you know how
welcome you will be to me. Make haste to let me know when you may be
expected.
'Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and tell her, I hope we shall be
at variance no more. I am, dear Sir, your most humble servant,
'August 30, 1777.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
On Sunday evening, Sept. 14, I arrived at Ashbourne, and drove directly
up to Dr. Taylor's door. Dr. Johnson and he appeared before I had got
out of the post-chaise, and welcomed me cordially.
I told them that I had travelled all the preceding night, and gone to
bed at Leek in Staffordshire; and that when I rose to go to church in
the afternoon, I was informed there had been an earthquake, of which,
it seems, the shock had been felt in some degree at Ashbourne. JOHNSON.
'Sir it will be much exaggerated in popular talk: for, in the first
place, the common people do not accurately adapt their thoughts to the
objects; nor, secondly, do they accurately adapt their words to their
thoughts: they do not mean to lie; but, taking no pains to be exact,
they give you very false accounts. A great part of their language is
proverbial. If anything rocks at all, they say it rocks like a cradle;
and in this way they go on.
The subject of grief for the loss of relations and friends being
introduced, I observed that it was strange to consider how soon it
in general wears away. Dr. Taylor mentioned a gentleman of the
neighbourhood as the only instance he had ever known of a person who had
endeavoured to RETAIN grief. He told Dr. Taylor, that after his Lady's
death, which affected him deeply, he RESOLVED that the grief, which he
cherished with a kind of sacred fondness, should be lasting; but that he
found he could not keep it long. JOHNSON. 'All grief for what cannot in
the course of nature be helped, soon wears away; in some sooner, indeed,
in some later; but it never continues very long, unless where there is
madness, such as will make a man have pride so fixed in his mind, as to
imagine himself a King; or any other passion in an unreasonable way: for
all unnecessary grief is unwise, and therefore will not be long retained
by a sound mind. If, indeed, the cause of our grief is occasioned by
our own misconduct, if grief is mingled with remorse of conscience, it
should be lasting.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we do not approve of a man who
very soon forgets the loss of a wife or a friend.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, we
disapprove of him, not because he soon forgets his grief, for the sooner
it is forgotten the better, but because we suppose, that if he forgets
his wife or his friend soon, he has not had much affection for them.'
I was somewhat disappointed in finding that the edition of The English
Poets, for which he was to write Prefaces and Lives, was not an
undertaking directed by him: but that he was to furnish a Preface and
Life to any poet the booksellers pleased. I asked him if he would do
this to any dunce's works, if they should ask him. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir,
and SAY he was a dunce.' My friend seemed now not much to relish talking
of this edition.
After breakfast,* Johnson carried me to see the garden belonging to the
school of Ashbourne, which is very prettily formed upon a bank, rising
gradually behind the house. The Reverend Mr. Langley, the head-master,
accompanied us.
* Next morning.--ED.
We had with us at dinner several of Dr. Taylor's neighbours, good civil
gentlemen, who seemed to understand Dr. Johnson very well, and not to
consider him in the light that a certain person did, who being struck,
or rather stunned by his voice and manner, when he was afterwards asked
what he thought of him, answered. 'He's a tremendous companion.'
Johnson told me, that 'Taylor was a very sensible acute man, and had a
strong mind; that he had great activity in some respects, and yet such
a sort of indolence, that if you should put a pebble upon his
chimney-piece, you would find it there, in the same state, a year
afterwards.'
And here is the proper place to give an account of Johnson's humane
and zealous interference in behalf of the Reverend Dr. William Dodd,
formerly Prebendary of Brecon, and chaplain in ordinary to his Majesty;
celebrated as a very popular preacher, an encourager of charitable
institutions, and authour of a variety of works, chiefly theological.
Having unhappily contracted expensive habits of living, partly
occasioned by licentiousness of manners, he in an evil hour, when
pressed by want of money, and dreading an exposure of his circumstances,
forged a bond of which he attempted to avail himself to support his
credit, flattering himself with hopes that he might be able to repay its
amount without being detected. The person, whose name he thus rashly and
criminally presumed to falsify, was the Earl of Chesterfield, to whom
he had been tutor, and who, he perhaps, in the warmth of his feelings,
flattered himself would have generously paid the money in case of
an alarm being taken, rather than suffer him to fall a victim to the
dreadful consequences of violating the law against forgery, the most
dangerous crime in a commercial country; but the unfortunate divine had
the mortification to find that he was mistaken. His noble pupil appeared
against him, and he was capitally convicted.
Johnson told me that Dr. Dodd was very little acquainted with him,
having been but once in his company, many years previous to this period
(which was precisely the state of my own acquaintance with Dodd); but
in his distress he bethought himself of Johnson's persuasive power of
writing, if haply it might avail to obtain for him the Royal Mercy.
He did not apply to him directly, but, extraordinary as it may seem,
through the late Countess of Harrington, who wrote a letter to Johnson,
asking him to employ his pen in favour of Dodd. Mr. Allen, the printer,
who was Johnson's landlord and next neighbour in Bolt-court, and for
whom he had much kindness, was one of Dodd's friends, of whom to the
credit of humanity be it recorded, that he had many who did not desert
him, even after his infringement of the law had reduced him to the state
of a man under sentence of death. Mr. Allen told me that he carried Lady
Harrington's letter to Johnson, that Johnson read it walking up and down
his chamber, and seemed much agitated, after which he said, 'I will do
what I can;'--and certainly he did make extraordinary exertions.
He this evening, as he had obligingly promised in one of his letters,
put into my hands the whole series of his writings upon this melancholy
occasion.
Dr. Johnson wrote in the first place, Dr. Dodd's Speech to the Recorder
of London, at the Old-Bailey, when sentence of death was about to be
pronounced upon him.
He wrote also The Convict's Address to his unhappy Brethren, a sermon
delivered by Dr. Dodd, in the chapel of Newgate.
The other pieces mentioned by Johnson in the above-mentioned collection,
are two letters, one to the Lord Chancellor Bathurst, (not Lord North,
as is erroneously supposed,) and one to Lord Mansfield;--A Petition
from Dr. Dodd to the King;--A Petition from Mrs. Dodd to the
Queen;--Observations of some length inserted in the news-papers, on
occasion of Earl Percy's having presented to his Majesty a petition for
mercy to Dodd, signed by twenty thousand people, but all in vain. He
told me that he had also written a petition from the city of London;
'but (said he, with a significant smile) they MENDED it.'
The last of these articles which Johnson wrote is Dr. Dodd's last solemn
Declaration, which he left with the sheriff at the place of execution.
I found a letter to Dr. Johnson from Dr. Dodd, May 23, 1777, in which
The Convict's Address seems clearly to be meant.
'I am so penetrated, my ever dear Sir, with a sense of your extreme
benevolence towards me, that I cannot find words equal to the sentiments
of my heart. . . .'
On Sunday, June 22, he writes, begging Dr. Johnson's assistance in
framing a supplicatory letter to his Majesty.
This letter was brought to Dr. Johnson when in church. He stooped down
and read it, and wrote, when he went home, the following letter for Dr.
Dodd to the King:
'SIR,--May it not offend your Majesty, that the most miserable of men
applies himself to your clemency, as his last hope and his last refuge;
that your mercy is most earnestly and humbly implored by a clergyman,
whom your Laws and Judges have condemned to the horrour and ignominy of
a publick execution. . . .'