_Dictionary_. The last paper of his _Rambler_ was published March 2[685],
this year; after which, there was a cessation for some time of any
exertion of his talents as an essayist. But, in the same year, Dr.
Hawkesworth, who was his warm admirer, and a studious imitator of his
style[686], and then lived in great intimacy with him, began a periodical
paper, entitled _The Adventurer_, in connection with other gentlemen,
one of whom was Johnson's much-loved friend, Dr. Bathurst; and, without
doubt, they received many valuable hints from his conversation, most of
his friends having been so assisted in the course of their works.
[Page 235: Communications by dreams. Ætat 43.]
That there should be a suspension of his literary labours during a part
of the year 1752, will not seem strange, when it is considered that soon
after closing his _Rambler_, he suffered a loss which, there can be no
doubt, affected him with the deepest distress[687]. For on the 17th of
March, O.S., his wife died. Why Sir John Hawkins should unwarrantably
take upon him even to _suppose_ that Johnson's fondness for her was
_dissembled_ (meaning simulated or assumed,) and to assert, that if it
was not the case, 'it was a lesson he had learned by rote[688],' I cannot
conceive; unless it proceeded from a want of similar feelings in his own
breast. To argue from her being much older than Johnson, or any other
circumstances, that he could not really love her, is absurd; for love is
not a subject of reasoning, but of feeling, and therefore there are no
common principles upon which one can persuade another concerning it.
Every man feels for himself, and knows how he is affected by particular
qualities in the person he admires, the impressions of which are too
minute and delicate to be substantiated in language.
The following very solemn and affecting prayer was found after Dr.
Johnson's decease, by his servant, Mr. Francis Barber, who delivered it
to my worthy friend the Reverend Mr. Strahan[689], Vicar of Islington, who
at my earnest request has obligingly favoured me with a copy of it,
which he and I compared with the original. I present it to the world as
an undoubted proof of a circumstance in the character of my illustrious
friend, which though some whose hard minds I never shall envy, may
attack as superstitious, will I am sure endear him more to numbers of
good men[690]. I have an additional, and that a personal motive for
presenting it, because it sanctions what I myself have always maintained
and am fond to indulge.
'April 26, 1752, being after 12 at Night of the 25th.
'O Lord! Governour of heaven and earth, in whose hands are embodied and
departed Spirits, if thou hast ordained the Souls of the Dead to
minister to the Living, and appointed my departed Wife to have care of
me, grant that I may enjoy the good effects of her attention and
ministration, whether exercised by appearance, impulses, dreams[691] or in
any other manner agreeable to thy Government. Forgive my presumption,
enlighten my ignorance, and however meaner agents are employed, grant me
the blessed influences of thy holy Spirit, through Jesus Christ our
Lord. Amen.'
[Page 236: Johnson's love for his wife. A.D. 1752.]
What actually followed upon this most interesting piece of devotion by
Johnson, we are not informed; but I, whom it has pleased GOD to afflict
in a similar manner to that which occasioned it, have certain experience
of benignant communication by dreams[692].
That his love for his wife was of the most ardent kind, and, during the
long period of fifty years, was unimpaired by the lapse of time, is
evident from various passages in the series of his _Prayers and
Meditations_, published by the Reverend Mr. Strahan, as well as from
other memorials, two of which I select, as strongly marking the
tenderness and sensibility of his mind.
'March 28, 1753. I kept this day[693] as the anniversary of my Tetty's
death[694], with prayer and tears in the morning. In the evening I prayed
for her conditionally, if it were lawful.'
[Page 237: Her wedding-ring. Ætat 43.]
'April 23, 1753. I know not whether I do not too much indulge the vain
longings of affection; but I hope they intenerate my heart, and that
when I die like my Tetty, this affection will be acknowledged in a happy
interview, and that in the mean time I am incited by it to piety. I
will, however, not deviate too much from common and received methods of
devotion.'
Her wedding-ring, when she became his wife, was, after her death,
preserved by him, as long as he lived, with an affectionate care, in a
little round wooden box, in the inside of which he pasted a slip of
paper, thus inscribed by him in fair characters, as follows:
'Eheu!
Eliz. Johnson,
Nupta Jul. 9° 1736,
Mortua, eheu!
Mart. 17° 1752[695].
After his death, Mr. Francis Barber, his faithful servant and residuary
legatee, offered this memorial of tenderness to Mrs. Lucy Porter, Mrs.
Johnson's daughter; but she having declined to accept of it, he had it
enamelled as a mourning ring for his old master, and presented it to his
wife, Mrs. Barber, who now has it.
The state of mind in which a man must be upon the death of a woman whom
he sincerely loves, had been in his contemplation many years before. In
his _Irene_, we find the following fervent and tender speech of
Demetrius, addressed to his Aspasia:
'From those bright regions of eternal day,
Where now thou shin'st amongst thy fellow saints,
Array'd in purer light, look down on me!
In pleasing visions and delusive dreams,
O! sooth my soul, and teach me how to lose thee[696].'
[Page 238: The shock of separation. A.D. 1752.]
I have, indeed, been told by Mrs. Desmoulins, who, before her marriage,
lived for some time with Mrs. Johnson at Hampstead[697], that she indulged
herself in country air and nice living, at an unsuitable expense[698],
while her husband was drudging in the smoke of London, and that she by
no means treated him with that complacency which is the most engaging
quality in a wife. But all this is perfectly compatible with his
fondness for her, especially when it is remembered that he had a high
opinion of her understanding, and that the impressions which her beauty,
real or imaginary, had originally made upon his fancy, being continued
by habit, had not been effaced, though she herself was doubtless much
altered for the worse. The dreadful shock of separation took place in
the night; and he immediately dispatched a letter to his friend, the
Reverend Dr. Taylor, which, as Taylor told me, expressed grief in the
strongest manner he had ever read; so that it is much to be regretted it
has not been preserved[699]. The letter was brought to Dr. Taylor, at his
house in the Cloisters, Westminster, about three in the morning; and as
it signified an earnest desire to see him, he got up, and went to
Johnson as soon as he was dressed, and found him in tears and in extreme
agitation. After being a little while together, Johnson requested him to
join with him in prayer. He then prayed extempore, as did Dr. Taylor;
and thus, by means of that piety which was ever his primary object, his
troubled mind was, in some degree, soothed and composed.
The next day he wrote as follows:
'To The Revernd Dr. Taylor.
Dear Sir,
'Let me have your company and instruction. Do not live away from me. My
distress is great.
'Pray desire Mrs. Taylor to inform me what mourning I should buy for my
mother and Miss Porter, and bring a note in writing with you.
'Remember me in your prayers, for vain is the help of man.
'I am, dear Sir, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 18, 1752.'
[Page 239: Francis Barber. Ætat 43.]
[Page 240: Prayers for the dead. A.D. 1752.]
That his sufferings upon the death of his wife were severe, beyond what
are commonly endured, I have no doubt, from the information of many who
were then about him, to none of whom I give more credit than to Mr.
Francis Barber, his faithful negro servant[700], who came into his family
about a fortnight after the dismal event. These sufferings were
aggravated by the melancholy inherent in his constitution; and although
he probably was not oftener in the wrong than she was, in the little
disagreements which sometimes troubled his married state[701], during
which, he owned to me, that the gloomy irritability of his existence was
more painful to him than ever, he might very naturally, after her death,
be tenderly disposed to charge himself with slight omissions and
offences, the sense of which would give him much uneasiness[702].
Accordingly we find, about a year after her decease, that he thus
addressed the Supreme Being: 'O LORD, who givest the grace of
repentance, and hearest the prayers of the penitent, grant that by true
contrition I may obtain forgiveness of all the sins committed, and of
all duties neglected in my union with the wife whom thou hast taken from
me; for the neglect of joint devotion, patient exhortation, and mild
instruction[703].' The kindness of his heart, notwithstanding the
impetuosity of his temper, is well known to his friends; and I cannot
trace the smallest foundation for the following dark and uncharitable
assertion by Sir John Hawkins: 'The apparition of his departed wife was
altogether of the terrifick kind, and hardly afforded him a hope that
she was in a state of happiness[704].' That he, in conformity with the
opinion of many of the most able, learned, and pious Christians in all
ages, supposed that there was a middle state after death, previous to
the time at which departed souls are finally received to eternal
felicity, appears, I think, unquestionably from his devotions[705]: 'And,
O LORD, so far as it may be lawful in me[706], I commend to thy fatherly
goodness _the soul of my departed wife_; beseeching thee to grant her
whatever is best in her _present state_, and _finally to receive her to
eternal happiness_[707].' But this state has not been looked upon with
horrour, but only as less gracious.
[Page 241: The funeral sermon on Mrs. Johnson. Ætat 43.]
He deposited the remains of Mrs. Johnson in the church of Bromley, in
Kent[708], to which he was probably led by the residence of his friend
Hawkesworth at that place. The funeral sermon which he composed for her,
which was never preached, but having been given to Dr. Taylor, has been
published since his death[709], is a performance of uncommon excellence,
and full of rational and pious comfort to such as are depressed by that
severe affliction which Johnson felt when he wrote it. When it is
considered that it was written in such an agitation of mind, and in the
short interval between her death and burial, it cannot be read without
wonder[710].
From Mr. Francis Barber I have had the following authentick and artless
account of the situation in which he found him recently after his wife's
death:
[Page 242: Johnson's friends in 1752.]
He was in great affliction. Mrs. Williams was then living in his house,
which was in Gough-square. He was busy with the Dictionary. Mr. Shiels,
and some others of the gentlemen who had formerly written for him, used
to come about him. He had then little for himself, but frequently sent
money to Mr. Shiels when in distress[711]. The friends who visited him at
that time, were chiefly Dr. Bathurst[712], and Mr. Diamond, an apothecary
in Cork-street, Burlington-gardens, with whom he and Mrs. Williams
generally dined every Sunday. There was a talk of his going to Iceland
with him, which would probably have happened had he lived. There were
also Mr. Cave, Dr. Hawkesworth, Mr. Ryland[713], merchant on Tower Hill,
Mrs. Masters, the poetess[714], who lived with Mr. Cave, Mrs. Carter, and
sometimes Mrs. Macaulay[715], also Mrs. Gardiner, wife of a
tallow-chandler on Snow-hill, not in the learned way, but a worthy good
woman[716]; Mr. (now Sir Joshua) Reynolds[717]; Mr. Millar, Mr. Dodsley,
Mr. Bouquet, Mr. Payne of Paternoster-row, booksellers; Mr. Strahan, the
printer; the Earl of Orrery[718], Lord Southwell[719], Mr. Garrick.
[Page 243: Robert Levet. Ætat 43.]
Many are, no doubt, omitted in this catalogue of his friends, and, in
particular, his humble friend Mr. Robert Levet, an obscure practiser in
physick amongst the lower people, his fees being sometimes very small
sums, sometimes whatever provisions his patients could afford him; but
of such extensive practice in that way, that Mrs. Williams has told me,
his walk was from Hounsditch to Marybone. It appears from Johnson's
diary that their acquaintance commenced about the year 1746; and such
was Johnson's predilection for him, and fanciful estimation of his
moderate abilities, that I have heard him say he should not be
satisfied, though attended by all the College of Physicians, unless he
had Mr. Levet with him. Ever since I was acquainted with Dr. Johnson,
and many years before, as I have been assured by those who knew him
earlier, Mr. Levet had an apartment in his house, or his chambers, and
waited upon him every morning, through the whole course of his late and
tedious breakfast. He was of a strange grotesque appearance, stiff and
formal in his manner, and seldom said a word while any company was
present[720].
[Page 244: Sir Joshua Reynolds. A.D. 1752.]
[Page 245: One of 'Dr. Johnson's school.' Ætat 43.]
The circle of his friends, indeed, at this time was extensive and
various, far beyond what has been generally imagined. To trace his
acquaintance with each particular person, if it could be done, would be
a task, of which the labour would not be repaid by the advantage. But
exceptions are to be made; one of which must be a friend so eminent as
Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was truly his _dulce decus_[721], and with whom
he maintained an uninterrupted intimacy to the last hour of his life.
When Johnson lived in Castle-street, Cavendish-square, he used
frequently to visit two ladies, who lived opposite to him, Miss
Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell. Reynolds used also to visit
there, and thus they met[722]. Mr. Reynolds, as I have observed above[723],
had, from the first reading of his _Life of Savage_, conceived a very
high admiration of Johnson's powers of writing. His conversation no less
delighted him; and he cultivated his acquaintance with the laudable zeal
of one who was ambitious of general improvement[724]. Sir Joshua, indeed,
was lucky enough at their very first meeting to make a remark, which was
so much above the common-place style of conversation, that Johnson at
once perceived that Reynolds had the habit of thinking for himself. The
ladies were regretting the death of a friend, to whom they owed great
obligations; upon which Reynolds observed, 'You have, however, the
comfort of being relieved from a burthen of gratitude[725].' They were
shocked a little at this alleviating suggestion, as too selfish; but
Johnson defended it in his clear and forcible manner, and was much
pleased with the _mind_, the fair view of human nature, which it
exhibited, like some of the reflections of Rochefaucault. The
consequence was, that he went home with Reynolds, and supped with him.
[Page 246: The Miss Cotterells. A.D. 1752.]
Sir Joshua told me a pleasant characteristical anecdote of Johnson about
the time of their first acquaintance. When they were one evening
together at the Miss Cotterells', the then Duchess of Argyle and another
lady of high rank came in. Johnson thinking that the Miss Cotterells
were too much engrossed by them, and that he and his friend were
neglected, as low company of whom they were somewhat ashamed, grew
angry; and resolving to shock their supposed pride, by making their
great visitors imagine that his friend and he were low indeed, he
addressed himself in a loud tone to Mr. Reynolds, saying, 'How much do
you think you and I could get in a week, if we were to _work as hard_ as
we could?'--as if they had been common mechanicks[726].
[Page 247: Bennet Langton. Ætat 43.]
His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq. of Langton, in Lincolnshire,
another much valued friend, commenced soon after the conclusion of his
_Rambler_; which that gentleman, then a youth, had read with so much
admiration, that he came to London chiefly with the view of endeavouring
to be introduced to its authour[727]. By a fortunate chance he happened to
take lodgings in a house where Mr. Levet frequently visited; and having
mentioned his wish to his landlady, she introduced him to Mr. Levet, who
readily obtained Johnson's permission to bring Mr. Langton to him[728];
as, indeed, Johnson, during the whole course of his life, had no
shyness, real or affected, but was easy of access to all who were
properly recommended, and even wished to see numbers at his _levee_[729],
as his morning circle of company might, with strict propriety, be
called. Mr. Langton was exceedingly surprised when the sage first
appeared. He had not received the smallest intimation of his figure,
dress, or manner. From perusing his writings, he fancied he should see a
decent, well-drest, in short, a remarkably decorous philosopher. Instead
of which, down from his bedchamber, about noon, came, as newly risen, a
huge uncouth figure, with a little dark wig which scarcely covered his
head, and his clothes hanging loose about him. But his conversation was
so rich, so animated, and so forcible, and his religious and political
notions so congenial with those in which Langton had been educated, that
he conceived for him that veneration and attachment which he ever
preserved. Johnson was not the less ready to love Mr. Langton, for his
being of a very ancient family; for I have heard him say, with pleasure,
'Langton, Sir, has a grant of free warren from Henry the Second; and
Cardinal Stephen Langton, in King John's reign, was of this family[730].'
[Page 248: Topham Beauclerk. A.D. 1752.]
Mr. Langton afterwards went to pursue his studies at Trinity College,
Oxford, where he formed an acquaintance with his fellow student, Mr.
Topham Beauclerk[731]; who, though their opinions and modes of life were
so different, that it seemed utterly improbable that they should at all
agree, had so ardent a love of literature, so acute an understanding,
such elegance of manners, and so well discerned the excellent qualities
of Mr. Langton, a gentleman eminent not only for worth and learning, but
for an inexhaustible fund of entertaining conversation[732], that they
became intimate friends.
[Page 249: Topham Beauclerk. Ætat 43.]
Johnson, soon after this acquaintance began, passed a considerable time
at Oxford[733]. He at first thought it strange that Langton should
associate so much with one who had the character of being loose, both in
his principles and practice; but, by degrees, he himself was fascinated.
Mr. Beauclerk's being of the St. Alban's family, and having, in some
particulars, a resemblance to Charles the Second, contributed, in
Johnson's imagination, to throw a lustre upon his other qualities[734];
and, in a short time, the moral, pious Johnson, and the gay, dissipated
Beauclerk, were companions. 'What a coalition! (said Garrick, when he
heard of this;) I shall have my old friend to bail out of the
Round-house[735].' But I can bear testimony that it was a very agreeable
association. Beauclerk was too polite, and valued learning and wit too
much, to offend Johnson by sallies of infidelity or licentiousness; and
Johnson delighted in the good qualities of Beauclerk, and hoped to
correct the evil. Innumerable were the scenes in which Johnson was
amused by these young men. Beauclerk could take more liberty with him,
than any body with whom I ever saw him; but, on the other hand,
Beauclerk was not spared by his respectable companion, when reproof was
proper. Beauclerk had such a propensity to satire, that at one time
Johnson said to him, 'You never open your mouth but with intention to
give pain; and you have often given me pain, not from the power of what
you said, but from seeing your intention.' At another time applying to
him, with a slight alteration, a line of Pope, he said,
'Thy love of folly, and thy scorn of fools.[736]
'Every thing thou dost shews the one, and every thing thou say'st the
other.' At another time he said to him, 'Thy body is all vice, and thy
mind all virtue.' Beauclerk not seeming to relish the compliment,
Johnson said, 'Nay, Sir, Alexander the Great, marching in triumph into
Babylon, could not have desired to have had more said to him.'
[Page 250: Johnson the Idle Apprentice. A.D. 1752.]
Johnson was some time with Beauclerk at his house at Windsor, where he
was entertained with experiments in natural philosophy[737]. One Sunday,
when the weather was very fine, Beauclerk enticed him, insensibly, to
saunter about all the morning. They went into a church-yard, in the time
of divine service, and Johnson laid himself down at his ease upon one of
the tomb-stones. 'Now, Sir, (said Beauclerk) you are like Hogarth's Idle
Apprentice.' When Johnson got his pension, Beauclerk said to him, in the
humorous phrase of Falstaff, 'I hope you'll now purge and live cleanly
like a gentleman[738].'
[Page 251: A frisk with Beuclerk and Langton. Ætat 44.]
One night when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a tavern in London,
and sat till about three in the morning, it came into their heads to go
and knock up Johnson, and see if they could prevail on him to join them
in a ramble. They rapped violently at the door of his chambers in the
Temple, till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little black wig
on the top of his head, instead of a nightcap, and a poker in his hand,
imagining, probably, that some ruffians were coming to attack him. When
he discovered who they were, and was told their errand, he smiled, and
with great good humour agreed to their proposal: 'What, is it you, you
dogs! I'll have a frisk with you.' He was soon drest, and they sallied
forth together into Covent-Garden, where the greengrocers and fruiterers
were beginning to arrange their hampers, just come in from the country.
Johnson made some attempts to help them; but the honest gardeners stared
so at his figure and manner, and odd interference, that he soon saw his
services were not relished. They then repaired to one of the
neighbouring taverns, and made a bowl of that liquor called
"_Bishop_"[739], which Johnson had always liked; while in joyous contempt
of sleep, from which he had been roused, he repeated the festive lines,
'Short, O short then be thy reign,
And give us to the world again!'[740]
They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, took a boat, and
rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and Johnson were so well pleased with
their amusement, that they resolved to persevere in dissipation for the
rest of the day: but Langton deserted them, being engaged to breakfast
with some young Ladies. Johnson scolded him for 'leaving his social
friends, to go and sit with a set of wretched _un-idea'd_ girls.'
Garrick being told of this ramble, said to him smartly, 'I heard of your
frolick t'other night. You'll be in the Chronicle.' Upon which Johnson
afterwards observed, '_He_ durst not do such a thing. His _wife_ would
not _let_ him!'
[Page 252: The Adventurer. A.D. 1753.]
1753: ÆTAT. 44.--He entered upon this year 1753 with his usual piety,
as appears from the following prayer, which I transcribed from that part
of his diary which he burnt a few days before his death[741]:
'Jan. 1, 1753, N. S. which I shall use for the future.
'Almighty God, who hast continued my life to this day, grant that, by
the assistance of thy Holy Spirit, I may improve the time which thou
shall grant me, to my eternal salvation. Make me to remember, to thy
glory, thy judgements and thy mercies. Make me so to consider the loss
of my wife, whom thou hast taken from me, that it may dispose me, by thy
grace, to lead the residue of my life in thy fear. Grant this, O LORD,
for JESUS CHRIST'S sake. Amen.'