of has given me such an idea of the whole, that I most sincerely
congratulate the publick upon the acquisition of a work long wanted, and
now executed with an industry, accuracy, and judgement, equal to the
importance of the subject. You might, perhaps, have chosen one in which
your genius would have appeared to more advantage; but you could not
have fixed upon any other in which your labours would have done such
substantial service to the present age and to posterity. I am glad that
your health has supported the application necessary to the performance
of so vast a task; and can undertake to promise you as one (though
perhaps the only) reward of it, the approbation and thanks of every
well-wisher to the honour of the English language. I am, with the
greatest regard,
'Sir,
'Your most faithful and
'Most affectionate humble servant,
'THO. BIRCH.'
Mr. Charles Burney, who has since distinguished himself so much in the
science of Musick, and obtained a Doctor's degree from the University of
Oxford, had been driven from the capital by bad health, and was now
residing at Lynne Regis, in Norfolk[839]. He had been so much delighted
with Johnson's _Rambler_ and the _Plan_ of his _Dictionary_, that when
the great work was announced in the news-papers as nearly finished, he
wrote to Dr. Johnson, begging to be informed when and in what manner his
_Dictionary_ would be published; intreating, if it should be by
subscription, or he should have any books at his own disposal, to be
favoured with six copies for himself and friends.
[Page 286: Johnson's letter to Mr. Burney. A.D. 1755.]
In answer to this application, Dr. Johnson wrote the following letter,
of which (to use Dr. Burney's own words) 'if it be remembered that it
was written to an obscure young man, who at this time had not much
distinguished himself even in his own profession, but whose name could
never have reached the authour of _The Rambler_, the politeness and
urbanity may be opposed to some of the stories which have been lately
circulated of Dr. Johnson's natural rudeness and ferocity.'
'To MR. BURNKY, IN LYNNE REGIS, NORFOLK.
'SIR,
'If you imagine that by delaying my answer I intended to shew any
neglect of the notice with which you have favoured me, you will neither
think justly of yourself nor of me. Your civilities were offered with
too much elegance not to engage attention; and I have too much pleasure
in pleasing men like you, not to feel very sensibly the distinction
which you have bestowed upon me.
'Few consequences of my endeavours to please or to benefit mankind have
delighted me more than your friendship thus voluntarily offered, which
now I have it I hope to keep, because I hope to continue to deserve it.
'I have no _Dictionaries_ to dispose of for myself, but shall be glad to
have you direct your friends to Mr. Dodsley, because it was by his
recommendation that I was employed in the work.
'When you have leisure to think again upon me, let me be favoured with
another letter; and another yet, when you have looked into my
_Dictionary_. If you find faults, I shall endeavour to mend them; if you
find none, I shall think you blinded by kind partiality: but to have
made you partial in his favour, will very much gratify the ambition of,
Sir,
'Your most obliged
'And most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Cough-square, Fleet-street,
'April 8, 1755,'
[Page 287: Andrew Millar. Ætat 46.]
Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the principal charge
of conducting the publication of Johnson's _Dictionary_; and as the
patience of the proprietors was repeatedly tried and almost exhausted,
by their expecting that the work would be completed within the time
which Johnson had sanguinely supposed, the learned authour was often
goaded to dispatch, more especially as he had received all the
copy-money, by different drafts, a considerable time before he had
finished his task[840]. When the messenger who carried the last sheet to
Millar returned, Johnson asked him, 'Well, what did he say?'--'Sir,
(answered the messenger) he said, thank GOD I have done with him.' 'I am
glad (replied Johnson, with a smile) that he thanks GOD for any
thing[841].' It is remarkable that those with whom Johnson chiefly
contracted for his literary labours were Scotchmen, Mr. Millar and Mr.
Strahan. Millar, though himself no great judge of literature, had good
sense enough to have for his friends very able men to give him their
opinion and advice in the purchase of copyright; the consequence of
which was his acquiring a very large fortune, with great liberality[842].
Johnson said of him, 'I respect Millar, Sir; he has raised the price of
literature.' The same praise may be justly given to Panckoucke, the
eminent bookseller of Paris. Mr. Strahan's liberality, judgement, and
success, are well known.
[Page 288: An Excursion to Langton deferred. A.D. 1755.]
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
'SIR,
'It has been long observed, that men do not suspect faults which they do
not commit; your own elegance of manners, and punctuality of
complaisance, did not suffer you to impute to me that negligence of
which I was guilty, and which I have not since atoned. I received both
your letters, and received them with pleasure proportionate to the
esteem which so short an acquaintance strongly impressed, and which I
hope to confirm by nearer knowledge, though I am afraid that
gratification will be for a time withheld.
'I have, indeed, published my Book[843], of which I beg to know your
father's judgement, and yours; and I have now staid long enough to watch
its progress into the world. It has, you see, no patrons, and, I think,
has yet had no opponents, except the criticks of the coffee-house, whose
outcries are soon dispersed into the air, and are thought on no more:
from this, therefore, I am at liberty, and think of taking the
opportunity of this interval to make an excursion; and why not then into
Lincolnshire? or, to mention a stronger attraction, why not to dear Mr.
Langton? I will give the true reason, which I know you will approve:--I
have a mother more than eighty years old, who has counted the days to
the publication of my book, in hopes of seeing me; and to her, if I can
disengage myself here, I resolve to go.
'As I know, dear Sir, that to delay my visit for a reason like this,
will not deprive me of your esteem, I beg it may not lessen your
kindness. I have very seldom received an offer of friendship which I so
earnestly desire to cultivate and mature. I shall rejoice to hear from
you, till I can see you, and will see you as soon as I can; for when the
duty that calls me to Lichfield is discharged, my inclination will carry
me to Langton. I shall delight to hear the ocean roar, or see the stars
twinkle, in the company of men to whom Nature does not spread her
volumes or utter her voice in vain.
'Do not, dear Sir, make the slowness of this letter a precedent for
delay, or imagine that I approved the incivility that I have committed;
for I have known you enough to love you, and sincerely to wish a further
knowledge; and I assure you, once more, that to live in a house that
contains such a father and such a son, will be accounted a very uncommon
degree of pleasure, by, dear Sir, your most obliged, and
'Most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 6, 1755.'
[Page 289: Letters to Mr. Warton. Ætat 46.]
'To THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
'DEAR SIR,
'I am grieved that you should think me capable of neglecting your
letters; and beg you will never admit any such suspicion again. I
purpose to come down next week, if you shall be there; or any other
week, that shall be more agreeable to you. Therefore let me know. I can
stay this visit but a week, but intend to make preparations for a longer
stay next time; being resolved not to lose sight of the University. How
goes Apollonius[844]? Don't let him be forgotten. Some things of this kind
must be done, to keep us up. Pay my compliments to Mr. Wise, and all my
other friends. I think to come to Kettel-Hall[845].
'I am, Sir,
'Your most affectionate, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'[London,] May 13, 1755.'
To THE SAME.
'DEAR SIR,
'It is strange how many things will happen to intercept every pleasure,
though it [be] only that of two friends meeting together. I have
promised myself every day to inform you when you might expect me at
Oxford, and have not been able to fix a time. The time, however, is, I
think, at last come; and I promise myself to repose in Kettel-Hall, one
of the first nights of the next week. I am afraid my stay with you
cannot be long; but what is the inference? We must endeavour to make it
chearful. I wish your brother could meet us, that we might go and drink
tea with Mr. Wise in a body. I hope he will be at Oxford, or at his nest
of British and Saxon antiquities[846]. I shall expect to see _Spenser_
finished, and many other things begun. Dodsley is gone to visit the
Dutch. The _Dictionary_ sells well[847]. The rest of the world goes on as
it did. Dear Sir,
[Page 290: Letters to Mr. Warton. A.D. 1755.]
'Your most affectionate, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'[London,] June 10, 1755.'
TO THE SAME.
'DEAR SIR,
'To talk of coming to you, and not yet to come, has an air of trifling
which I would not willingly have among you; and which, I believe, you
will not willingly impute to me, when I have told you, that since my
promise, two of our partners[848] are dead, and that I was solicited to
suspend my excursion till we could recover from our confusion.
'I have not laid aside my purpose; for every day makes me more impatient
of staying from you. But death, you know, hears not supplications, nor
pays any regard to the convenience of mortals. I hope now to see you
next week; but next week is but another name for to-morrow, which has
been noted for promising and deceiving.
'I am, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'[London,] June 24, 1755.'
To THE SAME.
'DEAR SIR,
'I told you, that among the manuscripts are some things of Sir Thomas
More. I beg you to pass an hour in looking on them, and procure a
transcript of the ten or twenty first lines of each, to be compared with
what I have; that I may know whether they are yet published. The
manuscripts are these:
'Catalogue of Bodl. MS. pag. 122. F. 3. Sir Thomas More.
'1. Fall of angels. 2. Creation and fall of mankind. 3. Determination of
the Trinity for the rescue of mankind. 4. Five lectures of our Saviour's
passion. 5. Of the institution of the sacrament, three lectures. 6. How
to receive the blessed body of our Lord sacramentally. 7. Neomenia, the
new moon. 8. _De tristitia, tædio, pavore, et oratione Christi, ante
captionem ejus_.
'Catalogue, pag. 154. Life of Sir Thomas More. _Qu_. Whether Roper's?
Pag. 363. _De resignatione Magni Sigilli in manus Regis per D. Thomam
Morum_. Pag. 364. _Mori Defensio Morice_.
'If you procure the young gentleman in the library to write out what you
think fit to be written, I will send to Mr. Prince the bookseller to pay
him what you shall think proper.
'Be pleased to make my compliments to Mr. Wise, and all my friends.
'I am, Sir,
'Your affectionate, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'[London] Aug. 7, 1755.'
[Page 291: Publication of the DICTIONARY. Ætat 46.]
The _Dictionary_, with a _Grammar and History of the English Language_,
being now at length published, in two volumes folio, the world
contemplated with wonder so stupendous a work achieved by one man,
while other countries had thought such undertakings fit only for whole
academies. Vast as his powers were, I cannot but think that his
imagination deceived him, when he supposed that by constant application
he might have performed the task in three years. Let the Preface be
attentively perused, in which is given, in a clear, strong, and glowing
style, a comprehensive, yet particular view of what he had done; and it
will be evident, that the time he employed upon it was comparatively
short. I am unwilling to swell my book with long quotations from what is
in every body's hands, and I believe there are few prose compositions in
the English language that are read with more delight, or are more
impressed upon the memory, than that preliminary discourse. One of its
excellencies has always struck me with peculiar admiration: I mean the
perspicuity with which he has expressed abstract scientifick notions. As
an instance of this, I shall quote the following sentence: 'When the
radical idea branches out into parallel ramifications, how can a
consecutive series be formed of senses in their own[849] nature
collateral?' We have here an example of what has been often said, and I
believe with justice, that there is for every thought a certain nice
adaptation of words which none other could equal, and which, when a man
has been so fortunate as to hit, he has attained, in that particular
case, the perfection of language.
[Page 292: The Preface to the Dictionary. A.D. 1755.]
The extensive reading which was absolutely necessary for the
accumulation of authorities, and which alone may account for Johnson's
retentive mind being enriched with a very large and various store of
knowledge and imagery, must have occupied several years. The Preface
furnishes an eminent instance of a double talent, of which Johnson was
fully conscious. Sir Joshua Reynolds heard him say, 'There are two
things which I am confident I can do very well: one is an introduction
to any literary work, stating what it is to contain, and how it should
be executed in the most perfect manner; the other is a conclusion,
shewing from various causes why the execution has not been equal to what
the authour promised to himself and to the publick.'
How should puny scribblers be abashed and disappointed, when they find
him displaying a perfect theory of lexicographical excellence, yet at
the same time candidly and modestly allowing that he 'had not satisfied
his own expectations[850].' Here was a fair occasion for the exercise of
Johnson's modesty, when he was called upon to compare his own arduous
performance, not with those of other individuals, (in which case his
inflexible regard to truth would have been violated, had he affected
diffidence,) but with speculative perfection[851]; as he, who can outstrip
all his competitors in the race, may yet be sensible of his deficiency
when he runs against time. Well might he say, that 'the _English
Dictionary_ was written with little assistance of the learned[852],' for
he told me, that the only aid which he received was a paper containing
twenty etymologies, sent to him by a person then unknown, who he was
afterwards informed was Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester[853]. The
etymologies, though they exhibit learning and judgement, are not, I
think, entitled to the first praise amongst the various parts of this
immense work. The definitions have always appeared to me such
astonishing proofs of acuteness of intellect and precision of language,
as indicate a genius of the highest rank[854]. This it is which marks the
superiour excellence of Johnson's _Dictionary_ over others equally or
even more voluminous, and must have made it a work of much greater
mental labour than mere Lexicons, or _Word-books_, as the Dutch call
them. They, who will make the experiment of trying how they can define a
few words of whatever nature, will soon be satisfied of the
unquestionable justice of this observation, which I can assure my
readers is founded upon much study, and upon communication with more
minds than my own.
[Page 293: Erroneous definitions. Ætat 46.]
A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. Thus,
_Windward_ and _Leeward_[855], though directly of opposite meaning, are
defined identically the same way; as to which inconsiderable specks it
is enough to observe, that his Preface announces that he was aware there
might be many such in so immense a work[856]; nor was he at all
disconcerted when an instance was pointed out to him. A lady once asked
him how he came to define _Pastern_ the _knee_ of a horse: instead of
making an elaborate defence, as she expected, he at once answered,
'Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance[857].' His definition of _Network_[858]
has been often quoted with sportive malignity[859], as obscuring a thing
in itself very plain. But to these frivolous censures no other answer is
necessary than that with which we are furnished by his own Preface.
[Page 294: Humorous definitions. A.D. 1755.]
'To explain, requires the use of terms less abstruse than that which is
to be explained, and such terms cannot always be found. For as nothing
can be proved but by supposing something intuitively known, and evident
without proof, so nothing can be defined but by the use of words too
plain to admit of definition[860]. Sometimes easier words are changed into
harder; as, _burial_, into _sepulture_ or _interment; dry_[861], into
_desiccative_; _dryness_, into _siccity_ or _aridity; fit_, into
_paroxism_; for the _easiest_ word, whatever it be, can never be
translated into one more easy.'
[Page 295: Humorous definitions.]
His introducing his own opinions, and even prejudices, under general
definitions of words, while at the same time the original meaning of the
words is not explained, as his _Tory_[862], _Whig_[863], _Pension_[864],
_Oats_[865], _Excise_[866], and a few more, cannot be fully defended, and
must be placed to the account of capricious and humorous indulgence[867].
Talking to me upon this subject when we were at Ashbourne in 1777, he
mentioned a still stronger instance of the predominance of his private
feelings in the composition of this work, than any now to be found in
it. 'You know, Sir, Lord Gower forsook the old Jacobite interest. When I
came to the word _Renegado_, after telling that it meant "one who
deserts to the enemy, a revolter," I added, _Sometimes we say a
GOWER_[868]. Thus it went to the press; but the printer had more wit than
I, and struck it out.'
[Page 296: Humorous definitions. A.D. 1756.]
Let it, however, be remembered, that this indulgence does not display
itself only in sarcasm towards others, but sometimes in playful allusion
to the notions commonly entertained of his own laborious task. Thus:
'_Grub-street_, the name of a street in London, much inhabited by
writers of small histories, _dictionaries_, and temporary poems; whence
any mean production is called _Grub-street_[869].'--'_Lexicographer_, a
writer of dictionaries, a _harmless drudge_[870]'.
[Page 297: The gloom of solitude. Ætat 46.]
At the time when he was concluding his very eloquent Preface, Johnson's
mind appears to have been in such a state of depression[871], that we
cannot contemplate without wonder the vigorous and splendid thoughts
which so highly distinguish that performance. 'I (says he) may surely be
contented without the praise of perfection, which if I could obtain in
this gloom of solitude, what would it avail me? I have protracted my
work till most of those whom I wished to please have sunk into the
grave; and success and miscarriage are empty sounds, I therefore dismiss
it with frigid tranquillity, having little to fear or hope from censure
or from praise[872].' That this indifference was rather a temporary than
an habitual feeling, appears, I think, from his letters to Mr.
Warton[873]; and however he may have been affected for the moment, certain
it is that the honours which his great work procured him, both at home
and abroad, were very grateful to him[874]. His friend the Earl of Corke
and Orrery, being at Florence, presented it to the _Academia della
Crusca_. That Academy sent Johnson their _Vocabulario_, and the French
Academy sent him their _Dictionnaire_, which Mr. Langton had the
pleasure to convey to him[875].
[Page 298: His melancholy at its meridian. A.D. 1755.]
It must undoubtedly seem strange, that the conclusion of his Preface
should be expressed in terms so desponding, when it is considered that
the authour was then only in his forty-sixth year. But we must ascribe
its gloom to that miserable dejection of spirits to which he was
constitutionally subject, and which was aggravated by the death of his
wife two years before[876]. I have heard it ingeniously observed by a lady
of rank and elegance, that 'his melancholy was then at its meridian[877].'
It pleased GOD to grant him almost thirty years of life after this time;
and once, when he was in a placid frame of mind, he was obliged to own
to me that he had enjoyed happier days, and had many more friends, since
that gloomy hour than before[878].
[Page 299: Johnson's happiest days last. Ætat 46.]
It is a sad saying, that 'most of those whom he wished to please had
sunk into the grave;' and his case at forty-five was singularly unhappy,
unless the circle of his friends was very narrow. I have often thought,
that as longevity is generally desired, and I believe, generally
expected, it would be wise to be continually adding to the number of our
friends, that the loss of some may be supplied by others. Friendship,
'the wine of life[879],' should like a well-stocked cellar, be thus
continually renewed; and it is consolatory to think, that although we
can seldom add what will equal the generous _first-growths_ of our
youth, yet friendship becomes insensibly old in much less time than is
commonly imagined, and not many years are required to make it very
mellow and pleasant. _Warmth_ will, no doubt, make a considerable
difference. Men of affectionate temper and bright fancy will coalesce a
great deal sooner than those who are cold and dull.
[Page 300: Garrick's complimentary epigram. A.D. 1755.]
The proposition which I have now endeavoured to illustrate was, at a
subsequent period of his life, the opinion of Johnson himself. He said
to Sir Joshua Reynolds, 'If a man does not make new acquaintance as he
advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir,
should keep his friendship _in constant repair_.'
The celebrated Mr. Wilkes, whose notions and habits of life were very
opposite to his, but who was ever eminent for literature and vivacity,
sallied forth with a little _Jeu d'Esprit_ upon the following passage in
his Grammar of the English Tongue, prefixed to the _Dictionary_: '_H_
seldom, perhaps never, begins any but the first syllable.' In an Essay
printed in _The Publick Advertiser_, this lively writer enumerated many
instances in opposition to this remark; for example, 'The authour of
this observation must be a man of a quick _apprehension_, and of a most
_compre-hensive_ genius.' The position is undoubtedly expressed with too
much latitude.
This light sally, we may suppose, made no great impression on our
Lexicographer; for we find that he did not alter the passage till many
years afterwards[880].
He had the pleasure of being treated in a very different manner by his
old pupil Mr. Garrick, in the following complimentary Epigram[881]:
'_On_ JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY,
'Talk of war with a Briton, he'll boldly advance,
That one English soldier will beat ten of France;
Would we alter the boast from the sword to the pen,
Our odds are still greater, still greater our men:
In the deep mines of science though Frenchmen may toil,
Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, and Boyle?
Let them rally their heroes, send forth all their pow'rs,
Their verse-men and prose-men, then match them with ours!
First Shakspeare and Milton[882], like gods in the fight,
Have put their whole drama and epick to flight;
In satires, epistles, and odes, would they cope,
Their numbers retreat before Dryden and Pope;
And Johnson, well arm'd like a hero of yore,
Has beat forty French[883], and will beat forty more!'
[Page 301: Zachariah Williams. Ætat 46.]