'August 9, 3 P.M., aetat. 72, in the summer-house at Streatham. After
innumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I have retired hither, to
plan a life of greater diligence, in hope that I may yet be useful, and
be daily better prepared to appear before my Creator and my Judge, from
whose infinite mercy I humbly call for assistance and support.
'My purpose is,
'To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment.
'Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks upon the Italian
language, for my settled study.'
How venerably pious does he appear in these moments of solitude, and how
spirited are his resolutions for the improvement of his mind, even in
elegant literature, at a very advanced period of life, and when
afflicted with many complaints[428].
In autumn he went to Oxford, Birmingham, Lichfield, and Ashbourne, for
which very good reasons might be given in the conjectural yet positive
manner of writers, who are proud to account for every event which they
relate[429]. He himself, however, says,
'The motives of my journey I hardly know; I omitted it last year, and am
not willing to miss it again[430].'
But some good considerations arise, amongst which is the kindly
recollection of Mr. Hector, surgeon at Birmingham:
'Hector is likewise an old friend, the only companion of my childhood
that passed through the school with me. We have always loved one
another; perhaps we may be made better by some serious conversation, of
which however I have no distinct hope.'
He says too,
'At Lichfield, my native place, I hope to shew a good example by
frequent attendance on publick worship.'
My correspondence with him during the rest of this year was I know not
why very scanty, and all on my side. I wrote him one letter to introduce
Mr. Sinclair (now Sir John), the member for Caithness, to his
acquaintance; and informed him in another that my wife had again been
affected with alarming symptoms of illness.
1782: AETAT. 73.--In 1782, his complaints increased, and the history of
his life this year, is little more than a mournful recital of the
variations of his illness, in the midst of which, however, it will
appear from his letters, that the powers of his mind were in no
degree impaired.
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I sit down to answer your letter on the same day in which I received
it, and am pleased that my first letter of the year is to you. No man
ought to be at ease while he knows himself in the wrong; and I have not
satisfied myself with my long silence. The letter relating to Mr.
Sinclair, however, was, I believe, never brought.
'My health has been tottering this last year; and I can give no very
laudable account of my time. I am always hoping to do better than I have
ever hitherto done.
'My journey to Ashbourne and Staffordshire was not pleasant; for what
enjoyment has a sick man visiting the sick[431]?--Shall we ever have
another frolick like our journey to the Hebrides?
'I hope that dear Mrs. Boswell will surmount her complaints; in losing
her you would lose your anchor, and be tost, without stability, by the
waves of life[432]. I wish both her and you very many years, and
very happy.
'For some months past I have been so withdrawn from the world, that I
can send you nothing particular. All your friends, however, are well,
and will be glad of your return to London.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Yours most affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'January 5, 1782.'
At a time when he was less able than he had once been to sustain a
shock, he was suddenly deprived of Mr. Levett, which event he thus
communicated to Dr. Lawrence:--
'SIR,
'Our old friend, Mr. Levett, who was last night eminently cheerful, died
this morning. The man who lay in the same room, hearing an uncommon
noise, got up and tried to make him speak, but without effect. He then
called Mr. Holder, the apothecary, who, though when he came he thought
him dead, opened a vein, but could draw no blood. So has ended the long
life of a very useful and very blameless man.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Jan. 17, 1782.'
In one of his memorandum-books in my possession, is the following
entry:--
'January 20, Sunday. Robert Levett was buried in the church-yard of
Bridewell, between one and two in the afternoon. He died on Thursday 17,
about seven in the morning, by an instantaneous death. He was an old and
faithful friend; I have known him from about 46. _Commendavi_. May GOD
have mercy on him. May he have mercy on me.'
Such was Johnson's affectionate regard for Levett[433], that he honoured
his memory with the following pathetick verses:--
'Condemd'd to Hope's delusive mine,
As on we toil from day to day,
By sudden blast or slow decline
Our social comforts drop away.
Well try'd through many a varying year,
See LEVETT to the grave descend;
Officious, innocent, sincere,
Of every friendless name the friend[434].
Yet still he fills affection's eye,
Obscurely wise[435], and coarsely kind;
Nor, letter'd arrogance[436], deny
Thy praise to merit unrefin'd.
When fainting Nature call'd for aid,
And hov'ring Death prepar'd the blow,
His vigorous remedy display'd
The power of art without the show.
In Misery's darkest caverns known,
His ready help was ever nigh,
Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,
And lonely want retir'd to die[437].
No summons mock'd by chill delay,
No petty gains disdain'd by pride;
The modest wants of every day
The toil of every day supply'd.
His virtues walk'd their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
And sure the Eternal Master found
His single talent well employ'd.
The busy day, the peaceful night[438],
Unfelt, uncounted, glided by;
His frame was firm, his powers were bright,
Though now his eightieth year was nigh[439].
Then, with no throbs of fiery pain,
No cold gradations of decay,
Death broke at once the vital chain,
And freed his soul the nearest way.'
In one of Johnson's registers of this year, there occurs the following
curious passage:--
'Jan. 20[440]. The Ministry is dissolved. I prayed with Francis and gave
thanks[441].'
It has been the subject of discussion, whether there are two distinct
particulars mentioned here? or that we are to understand the giving of
thanks to be in consequence of the dissolution of the Ministry? In
support of the last of these conjectures may be urged his mean opinion
of that Ministry, which has frequently appeared in the course of this
work[442]; and it is strongly confirmed by what he said on the subject
to Mr. Seward:--'I am glad the Ministry is removed. Such a bunch of
imbecility never disgraced a country[443]. If they sent a messenger into
the City to take up a printer, the messenger was taken up instead of
the printer, and committed by the sitting Alderman[444]. If they sent
one army to the relief of another, the first army was defeated and taken
before the second arrived[445]. I will not say that what they did was
always wrong; but it was always done at a wrong time[446].'
'TO MRS. STRAHAN.
'DEAR MADAM,
'Mrs. Williams shewed me your kind letter. This little habitation is now
but a melancholy place, clouded with the gloom of disease and death. Of
the four inmates, one has been suddenly snatched away; two are oppressed
by very afflictive and dangerous illness; and I tried yesterday to gain
some relief by a third bleeding, from a disorder which has for some time
distressed me, and I think myself to-day much better.
'I am glad, dear Madam, to hear that you are so far recovered as to go
to Bath. Let me once more entreat you to stay till your health is not
only obtained, but confirmed. Your fortune is such as that no moderate
expence deserves your care; and you have a husband, who, I believe, does
not regard it. Stay, therefore, till you are quite well. I am, for my
part, very much deserted; but complaint is useless. I hope GOD will
bless you, and I desire you to form the same wish for me.
'I am, dear Madam,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Feb. 4, 1782.'
'To EDMOND MALONE, ESQ.
'SIR,
'I have for many weeks been so much out of order, that I have gone out
only in a coach to Mrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom that
sickness requires. Do not, therefore, take it amiss, that I am not with
you and Dr. Farmer. I hope hereafter to see you often.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Feb. 27, 1782.'
To THE SAME.
'DEAR SIR,
'I hope I grow better, and shall soon be able to enjoy the kindness of
my friends. I think this wild adherence to Chatterton[447] more
unaccountable than the obstinate defence of Ossian. In Ossian there is a
national pride, which may be forgiven, though it cannot be applauded. In
Chatterton there is nothing but the resolution to say again what has
once been said.
'I am, Sir,
'Your humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 7, 1782.'
These short letters shew the regard which Dr. Johnson entertained for
Mr. Malone, who the more he is known is the more highly valued. It is
much to be regretted that Johnson was prevented from sharing the elegant
hospitality of that gentleman's table, at which he would in every
respect have been fully gratified. Mr. Malone, who has so ably
succeeded him as an Editor of Shakspeare, has, in his Preface, done
great and just honour to Johnson's memory.
'TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
'DEAR MADAM,
'I went away from Lichfield ill, and have had a troublesome time with my
breath; for some weeks I have been disordered by a cold, of which I
could not get the violence abated, till I had been let blood three
times. I have not, however, been so bad but that I could have written,
and am sorry that I neglected it.
'My dwelling is but melancholy; both Williams, and Desmoulins, and
myself, are very sickly: Frank is not well; and poor Levett died in his
bed the other day, by a sudden stroke; I suppose not one minute passed
between health and death; so uncertain are human things.
'Such is the appearance of the world about me; I hope your scenes are
more cheerful. But whatever befalls us, though it is wise to be serious,
it is useless and foolish, and perhaps sinful, to be gloomy. Let us,
therefore, keep ourselves as easy as we can; though the loss of friends
will be felt, and poor Levett had been a faithful adherent for
thirty years.
'Forgive me, my dear love, the omission of writing; I hope to mend that
and my other faults. Let me have your prayers.
'Make my compliments to Mrs. Cobb, and Miss Adey, and Mr. Pearson, and
the whole company of my friends.