'In an enlightened and improving age, much perhaps is not to be
apprehended from the inroads of mere caprice; at such a period it will
generally be perceived, that needless irregularity is the worst of all
deformities, and that nothing is so truly elegant in language as the
simplicity of unviolated analogy. Rules will, therefore, be observed, so
far as they are known and acknowledged: but, at the same time, the
desire of improvement having been once excited will not remain inactive;
and its efforts, unless assisted by knowledge, as much as they are
prompted by zeal, will not unfrequently be found pernicious; so that the
very persons whose intention it is to perfect the instrument of reason,
will deprave and disorder it unknowingly. At such a time, then, it
becomes peculiarly necessary that the analogy of language should be
fully examined and understood; that its rules should be carefully laid
down; and that it should be clearly known how much it contains, which
being already right should be defended from change and violation: how
much it has that demands amendment; and how much that, for fear of
greater inconveniencies, must, perhaps, be left unaltered, though
irregular.'
A distinguished authour in _The Mirror_[1188], a periodical paper,
published at Edinburgh, has imitated Johnson very closely. Thus, in
No. 16,--
'The effects of the return of spring have been frequently remarked as
well in relation to the human mind as to the animal and vegetable world.
The reviving power of this season has been traced from the fields to the
herds that inhabit them, and from the lower classes of beings up to man.
Gladness and joy are described as prevailing through universal Nature,
animating the low of the cattle, the carol of the birds, and the pipe of
the shepherd.'
The Reverend Dr. KNOX[1189], master of Tunbridge school, appears to have
the _imitari avco_[1190] of Johnson's style perpetually in his mind;
and to his assiduous, though not servile, study of it, we may partly
ascribe the extensive popularity of his writings[1191].
In his _Essays, Moral and Literary_, No. 3, we find the following
passage:--
'The polish of external grace may indeed be deferred till the approach
of manhood. When solidity is obtained by pursuing the modes prescribed
by our fore-fathers, then may the file be used. The firm substance will
bear attrition, and the lustre then acquired will be durable.'
There is, however, one in No. 11, which is blown up into such tumidity,
as to be truly ludicrous. The writer means to tell us, that Members of
Parliament, who have run in debt by extravagance, will sell their votes
to avoid an arrest[1192], which he thus expresses:--
'They who build houses and collect costly pictures and furniture with
the money of an honest artisan or mechanick, will be very glad of
emancipation from the hands of a bailiff, by a sale of their senatorial
suffrage.'
But I think the most perfect imitation of Johnson is a professed one,
entitled _A Criticism on Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-Yard_, said to
be written by Mr. Young, Professor of Greek, at Glasgow, and of which
let him have the credit, unless a better title can be shewn. It has not
only the peculiarities of Johnson's style, but that very species of
literary discussion and illustration for which he was eminent. Having
already quoted so much from others, I shall refer the curious to this
performance, with an assurance of much entertainment[1193].
Yet whatever merit there may be in any imitations of Johnson's style,
every good judge must see that they are obviously different from the
original; for all of them are either deficient in its force, or
overloaded with its peculiarities; and the powerful sentiment to which
it is suited is not to be found[1194].
Johnson's affection for his departed relations seemed to grow warmer as
he approached nearer to the time when he might hope to see them again.
It probably appeared to him that he should upbraid himself with unkind
inattention, were he to leave the world without having paid a tribute of
respect to their memory.
'To MR. GREEN[1195], APOTHECARY, AT LICHFIELD.
'DEAR SIR,
'I have enclosed the Epitaph[1196] for my Father, Mother, and Brother,
to be all engraved on the large size, and laid in the middle aisle in
St. Michael's church, which I request the clergyman and churchwardens
to permit.
'The first care must be to find the exact place of interment, that the
stone may protect the bodies[1197]. Then let the stone be deep, massy,
and hard; and do not let the difference of ten pounds, or more, defeat
our purpose.
'I have enclosed ten pounds, and Mrs. Porter will pay you ten more,
which I gave her for the same purpose. What more is wanted shall be
sent; and I beg that all possible haste may be made, for I wish to have
it done while I am yet alive. Let me know, dear Sir, that you
receive this.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Dec. 2, 1784.'
'To MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
'DEAR MADAM,
'I am very ill, and desire your prayers. I have sent Mr. Green the
Epitaph, and a power to call on you for ten pounds.
'I laid this summer a stone over Tetty, in the chapel of Bromley, in
Kent[1198]. The inscription is in Latin, of which this is the English.
[Here a translation.]
'That this is done, I thought it fit that you should know. What care
will be taken of us, who can tell? May GOD pardon and bless us, for
JESUS CHRIST'S sake.
'I am, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON[1199],'
'Dec. 2, 1784.'
My readers are now, at last, to behold SAMUEL JOHNSON preparing himself
for that doom, from which the most exalted powers afford no exemption to
man[1200]. Death had always been to him an object of terrour; so that,
though by no means happy, he still clung to life with an eagerness at
which many have wondered. At any time when he was ill, he was very much
pleased to be told that he looked better. An ingenious member of the
_Eumelian Club_[1201], informs me, that upon one occasion when he said
to him that he saw health returning to his cheek, Johnson seized him by
the hand and exclaimed, 'Sir, you are one of the kindest friends I
ever had.'
His own state of his views of futurity will appear truly rational; and
may, perhaps, impress the unthinking with seriousness.
'You know, (says he,)[1202] I never thought confidence with respect to
futurity, any part of the character of a brave, a wise, or a good man.
Bravery has no place where it can avail nothing; wisdom impresses
strongly the consciousness of those faults, of which it is, perhaps,
itself an aggravation; and goodness, always wishing to be better, and
imputing every deficience to criminal negligence, and every fault to
voluntary corruption, never dares to suppose the condition of
forgiveness fulfilled, nor what is wanting in the crime supplied by
penitence.
'This is the state of the best; but what must be the condition of him
whose heart will not suffer him to rank himself among the best, or among
the good? Such must be his dread of the approaching trial, as will leave
him little attention to the opinion of those whom he is leaving for
ever; and the serenity that is not felt, it can be no virtue to feign.'
His great fear of death, and the strange dark manner in which Sir John
Hawkins[1203] imparts the uneasiness which he expressed on account of
offences with which he charged himself, may give occasion to injurious
suspicions, as if there had been something of more than ordinary
criminality weighing upon his conscience. On that account, therefore, as
well as from the regard to truth which he inculcated[1204], I am to
mention, (with all possible respect and delicacy, however,) that his
conduct, after he came to London, and had associated with Savage and
others, was not so strictly virtuous, in one respect, as when he was a
younger man. It was well known, that his amorous inclinations were
uncommonly strong and impetuous. He owned to many of his friends, that
he used to take women of the town to taverns, and hear them relate their
history[1205]. In short, it must not be concealed, that, like many other
good and pious men, among whom we may place the Apostle Paul upon his
own authority, Johnson was not free from propensities which were ever
'warring against the law of his mind[1206],'--and that in his combats
with them, he was sometimes overcome[1207].
Here let the profane and licentious pause; let them not thoughtlessly
say that Johnson was an _hypocrite_, or that his _principles_ were not
firm, because his _practice_ was not uniformly conformable to what he
professed.
Let the question be considered independent of moral and religious
association; and no man will deny that thousands, in many instances, act
against conviction. Is a prodigal, for example, an _hypocrite_, when he
owns he is satisfied that his extravagance will bring him to ruin and
misery? We are _sure_ he _believes_ it; but immediate inclination,
strengthened by indulgence, prevails over that belief in influencing his
conduct. Why then shall credit be refused to the _sincerity_ of those
who acknowledge their persuasion of moral and religious duty, yet
sometimes fail of living as it requires? I heard Dr. Johnson once
observe, 'There is something noble in publishing truth, though it
condemns one's self[1208].' And one who said in his presence, 'he had
no notion of people being in earnest in their good professions, whose
practice was not suitable to them,' was thus reprimanded by him:--'Sir,
are you so grossly ignorant of human nature as not to know that a man
may be very sincere in good principles, without having good
practice[1209]?'
But let no man encourage or soothe himself in 'presumptuous sin[1210],'
from knowing that Johnson was sometimes hurried into indulgences which
he thought criminal. I have exhibited this circumstance as a shade in so
great a character, both from my sacred love of truth, and to shew that
he was not so weakly scrupulous as he has been represented by those who
imagine that the sins, of which a deep sense was upon his mind, were
merely such little venial trifles as pouring milk into his tea on
Good-Friday. His understanding will be defended by my statement, if his
consistency of conduct be in some degree impaired. But what wise man
would, for momentary gratifications, deliberately subject himself to
suffer such uneasiness as we find was experienced by Johnson in
reviewing his conduct as compared with his notion of the ethicks of the
gospel? Let the following passages be kept in remembrance:--
'O, GOD, giver and preserver of all life, by whose power I was created,
and by whose providence I am sustained, look down upon me with
tenderness and mercy; grant that I may not have been created to be
finally destroyed; that I may not be preserved to add wickedness to
wickedness[1211].' 'O, LORD, let me not sink into total depravity; look
down upon me, and rescue me at last from the captivity of sin[1212].'
'Almighty and most merciful Father, who hast continued my life from year
to year, grant that by longer life I may become less desirous of sinful
pleasures, and more careful of eternal happiness[1213].' 'Let not my
years be multiplied to increase my guilt; but as my age advances, let me
become more pure in my thoughts, more regular in my desires, and more
obedient to thy laws[1214].' 'Forgive, O merciful LORD, whatever I have
done contrary to thy laws. Give me such a sense of my wickedness as may
produce true contrition and effectual repentance; so that when I shall
be called into another state, I may be received among the sinners to
whom whom sorrow and reformation have obtained pardon, for JESUS
CHRIST'S sake. Amen[1215].'
Such was the distress of mind, such the penitence of Johnson, in his
hours of privacy, and in his devout approaches to his Maker. His
_sincerity_, therefore, must appear to every candid mind unquestionable.
It is of essential consequence to keep in view, that there was in this
excellent man's conduct no false principle of _commutation_, no
_deliberate_ indulgence in sin, in consideration of a counter-balance of
duty. His offending, and his repenting, were distinct and
separate[1216]: and when we consider his almost unexampled attention to
truth, his inflexible integrity, his constant piety, who will dare to
'cast a stone at him[1217]?' Besides, let it never be forgotten, that he
cannot be charged with any offence indicating badness of _heart_, any
thing dishonest, base, or malignant; but that, on the contrary, he was
charitable in an extraordinary degree: so that even in one of his own
rigid judgements of himself, (Easter-eve, 1781,) while he says, 'I have
corrected no external habits;' he is obliged to own, 'I hope that since
my last communion I have advanced, by pious reflections, in my
submission to GOD, and my benevolence to man[1218].'
I am conscious that this is the most difficult and dangerous part of my
biographical work, and I cannot but be very anxious concerning it. I
trust that I have got through it, preserving at once my regard to
truth,--to my friend,--and to the interests of virtue and religion. Nor
can I apprehend that more harm can ensue from the knowledge of the
irregularity of Johnson, guarded as I have stated it, than from knowing
that Addison and Parnell were intemperate in the use of wine; which he
himself, in his _Lives_ of those celebrated writers and pious men, has
not forborne to record[1219].
It is not my intention to give a very minute detail of the particulars
of Johnson's remaining days[1220], of whom it was now evident, that the
crisis was fast approaching, when he must '_die like men, and fall like
one of the Princes_[1221].' Yet it will be instructive, as well as
gratifying to the curiosity of my readers, to record a few
circumstances, on the authenticity of which they may perfectly rely, as
I have been at the utmost pains to obtain an accurate account of his
last illness, from the best authority[1222].
Dr. Heberden[1223], Dr. Brocklesby, Dr. Warren[1224], and Dr. Butter,
physicians, generously attended him, without accepting any fees, as did
Mr. Cruikshank, surgeon; and all that could be done from professional
skill and ability, was tried, to prolong a life so truly valuable. He
himself, indeed, having, on account of his very bad constitution, been
perpetually applying himself to medical inquiries, united his own
efforts with those of the gentlemen who attended him; and imagining that
the dropsical collection of water which oppressed him might be drawn off
by making incisions in his body, he, with his usual resolute defiance of
pain, cut deep, when he thought that his surgeon had done it too
tenderly[1225].
About eight or ten days before his death, when Dr. Brocklesby paid him
his morning visit, he seemed very low and desponding, and said, 'I have
been as a dying man all night.' He then emphatically broke out in the
words of Shakspeare,--
'Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?'