While he was here he had a letter from Dr. Brocklesby, acquainting him
of the death of Mrs. Williams, which affected him a good deal[725].
Though for several years her temper had not been complacent, she had
valuable qualities, and her departure left a blank in his house[726].
Upon this occasion he, according to his habitual course of piety,
composed a prayer[727].
I shall here insert a few particulars concerning him, with which I have
been favoured by one of his friends[728].
'He had once conceived the design of writing the Life of Oliver
Cromwell[729], saying, that he thought it must be highly curious to
trace his extraordinary rise to the supreme power, from so obscure a
beginning. He at length laid aside his scheme, on discovering that all
that can be told of him is already in print; and that it is
impracticable to procure any authentick information in addition to what
the world is already possessed of[730].'
'He had likewise projected, but at what part of his life is not known, a
work to shew how small a quantity of REAL FICTION there is in the world;
and that the same images, with very little variation, have served all
the authours who have ever written[731].'
'His thoughts in the latter part of his life were frequently employed on
his deceased friends. He often muttered these, or such like sentences:
"Poor man! and then he died."'
'Speaking of a certain literary friend, "He is a very pompous puzzling
fellow, (said he); he lent me a letter once that somebody had written to
him, no matter what it was about; but he wanted to have the letter back,
and expressed a mighty value for it; he hoped it was to be met with
again, he would not lose it for a thousand pounds. I layed my hand upon
it soon afterwards, and gave it him. I believe I said, I was very glad
to have met with it. O, then he did not know that it signified any
thing. So you see, when the letter was lost it was worth a thousand
pounds, and when it was found it was not worth a farthing."'
'The style and character of his conversation is pretty generally known;
it was certainly conducted in conformity with a precept of Lord Bacon,
but it is not clear, I apprehend, that this conformity was either
perceived or intended by Johnson. The precept alluded to is as follows:
"In all kinds of speech, either pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, it
is convenient to speak leisurely, and rather drawingly than hastily:
because hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes, besides the
unseemliness, drives the man either to stammering, a non-plus, or
harping on that which should follow; whereas a slow speech confirmeth
the memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers, besides a
seemliness of speech and countenance[732]." Dr. Johnson's method of
conversation was certainly calculated to excite attention, and to amuse
and instruct, (as it happened,) without wearying or confusing his
company. He was always most perfectly clear and perspicuous; and his
language was so accurate, and his sentences so neatly constructed, that
his conversation might have been all printed without any correction. At
the same time, it was easy and natural; the accuracy of it had no
appearance of labour, constraint, or stiffness; he seemed more correct
than others, by the force of habit, and the customary exercises of his
powerful mind[733].'
'He spoke often in praise of French literature. "The French are
excellent in this, (he would say,) they have a book on every
subject[734]." From what he had seen of them he denied them the praise
of superiour politeness[735], and mentioned, with very visible disgust,
the custom they have of spitting on the floors of their apartments.
"This, (said the Doctor) is as gross a thing as can well be done; and
one wonders how any man, or set of men, can persist in so offensive a
practice for a whole day together; one should expect that the first
effort towards civilization would remove it even among savages[736]."'
'Baxter's _Reasons of the Christian Religion_, he thought contained the
best collection of the evidences of the divinity of the
Christian system.'
'Chymistry[737] was always an interesting pursuit with Dr. Johnson.
Whilst he was in Wiltshire, he attended some experiments that were made
by a physician at Salisbury, on the new kinds of air[738]. In the
course of the experiments frequent mention being made of Dr. Priestley,
Dr. Johnson knit his brows, and in a stern manner enquired, "Why do we
hear so much of Dr. Priestley[739]?" He was very properly answered,
"Sir, because we are indebted to him for these important discoveries."
On this Dr. Johnson appeared well content; and replied, "Well, well, I
believe we are; and let every man have the honour he has merited."'
'A friend was one day, about two years before his death, struck with
some instance of Dr. Johnson's great candour. "Well, Sir, (said he,) I
will always say that you are a very candid man." "Will you," (replied the
Doctor,) I doubt then you will be very singular. But, indeed, Sir,
(continued he,) I look upon myself to be a man very much misunderstood.
I am not an uncandid, nor am I a severe man. I sometimes say more than I
mean, in jest; and people are apt to believe me serious: however, I am
more candid than I was when I was younger. As I know more of mankind I
expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a _good man_, upon
easier terms than I was formerly[740].'