most humble servant.''To MR. PERKINS. 'DEAR SIR,'I cannot but flatter myself that your kindness for me will make youglad to know where I am, and in what state.'I have been struggling very hard with my diseases. My breath has beenvery much obstructed, and the water has attempted to encroach upon meagain. I past the first part of the summer at Oxford, afterwards I wentto Lichfield, thence to Ashbourne, in Derbyshire, and a week ago Ireturned to Lichfield.'My breath is now much easier, and the water is in a great measure runaway, so that I hope to see you again before winter.'Please to make my compliments to Mrs. Perkins, and to Mr. and Mrs.Barclay.'I am, dear Sir, 'Your most humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.' 'Lichfield,Oct. 4, 1784.''To THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON. 'DEAR SIR,'Considering what reason[1124] you gave me in the spring to concludethat you took part in whatever good or evil might befal me, I ought notto have omitted so long the account which I am now about to give you. Mydiseases are an asthma and a dropsy, and, what is less curable,seventy-five. Of the dropsy, in the beginning of the summer, or in thespring, I recovered to a degree which struck with wonder both me and myphysicians: the asthma now is likewise, for a time, very much relieved.I went to Oxford, where the asthma was very tyrannical, and the dropsybegan again to threaten me; but seasonable physick stopped theinundation: I then returned to London, and in July took a resolution tovisit Staffordshire and Derbyshire, where I am yet struggling with mydiseases. The dropsy made another attack, and was not easily ejected,but at last gave way. The asthma suddenly remitted in bed, on the 13thof August, and, though now very oppressive, is, I think, still somethinggentler than it was before the remission. My limbs are miserablydebilitated, and my nights are sleepless and tedious. When you readthis, dear Sir, you are not sorry that I wrote no sooner. I will notprolong my complaints. I hope still to see you _in a happierhour_[1125], to talk over what we have often talked, and perhaps to findnew topicks of merriment, or new incitements to curiosity. I am, dearSir, &c. SAM. JOHNSON. Lichfield, Oct. 20, 1784.''TO JOHN PARADISE, ESQ.[1126]DEAR SIR,Though in all my summer's excursion I have given you no account ofmyself, I hope you think better of me than to imagine it possible for meto forget you, whose kindness to me has been too great and too constantnot to have made its impression on a harder breast than mine. Silence isnot very culpable when nothing pleasing is suppressed. It would havealleviated none of your complaints to have read my vicissitudes of evil.I have struggled hard with very formidable and obstinate maladies; andthough I cannot talk of health, think all praise due to my Creator andPreserver for the continuance of my life. The dropsy has made twoattacks, and has given way to medicine; the asthma is very oppressive,but that has likewise once remitted. I am very weak, and very sleepless;but it is time to conclude the tale of misery. I hope, dear Sir, thatyou grow better, for you have likewise your share of human evil, andthat your lady and the young charmers are well.I am, dear Sir, &c. SAM. JOHNSON.Lichfield, Oct. 20, 1784.''To Mr. George Nicol[1127].'Dear Sir,'Since we parted, I have been much oppressed by my asthma, but it haslately been less laborious. When I sit I am almost at ease, and I canwalk, though yet very little, with less difficulty for this week past,than before. I hope I shall again enjoy my friends, and that you and Ishall have a little more literary conversation. Where I now am, everything is very liberally provided for me but conversation. My friend issick himself, and the reciprocation of complaints and groans affords notmuch of either pleasure or instruction. What we have not at home thistown does not supply, and I shall be glad of a little importedintelligence, and hope that you will bestow, now and then, a little timeon the relief and entertainment of, Sir, 'Yours, &c. 'Sam. Johnson.''Ashbourne, Aug. 19, 1784.''To Mr. Cruikshank.'Dear Sir,'Do not suppose that I forget you; I hope I shall never be accused offorgetting my benefactors[1128]. I had, till lately, nothing to writebut complaints upon complaints, of miseries upon miseries; but withinthis fortnight I have received great relief. Have your Lectures anyvacation? If you are released from the necessity of daily study, you mayfind time for a letter to me. [In this letter he states the particularsof his case.] In return for this account of my health, let me have agood account of yours, and of your prosperity in all your undertakings.'I am, dear Sir, yours, &c. 'Sam. Johnson.' 'Ashbourne, Sept. 4, 1784.'To Mr. Thomas Davies:--August 14. 'The tenderness with which you always treat me, makes meculpable in my own eyes for having omitted to write in so long aseparation; I had, indeed, nothing to say that you could wish to hear.All has been hitherto misery accumulated upon misery, diseasecorroborating disease, till yesterday my asthma was perceptibly andunexpectedly mitigated. I am much comforted with this short relief, andam willing to flatter myself that it may continue and improve. I have atpresent, such a degree of ease, as not only may admit the comforts, butthe duties of life. Make my compliments to Mrs. Davies. Poor dear Allen,he was a good man.'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS:--Ashbourne, July 21. 'The tenderness with which I am treated by myfriends, makes it reasonable to suppose that they are desirous to knowthe state of my health, and a desire so benevolent ought to begratified. I came to Lichfield in two days without any painful fatigue,and on Monday came hither, where I purpose to stay: and try what air andregularity will effect. I cannot yet persuade myself that I have mademuch progress in recovery. My sleep is little, my breath is very muchencumbered, and my legs are very weak. The water has encreased a little,but has again run off. The most distressing symptom is want of sleep.'August 19. 'Having had since our separation, little to say that couldplease you or myself by saying, I have not been lavish of uselessletters; but I flatter myself that you will partake of the pleasure withwhich I can now tell you that about a week ago, I felt suddenly asensible remission of my asthma, and consequently a greater lightness ofaction and motion. Of this grateful alleviation I know not the cause,nor dare depend upon its continuance, but while it lasts I endeavour toenjoy it, and am desirous of communicating, while it lasts, my pleasureto my friends. Hitherto, dear Sir, I had written before the post, whichstays in this town but a little while, brought me your letter. Mr.Davies seems to have represented my little tendency to recovery in termstoo splendid. I am still restless, still weak, still watery, but theasthma is less oppressive. Poor Ramsay[1129]! On which side soever Iturn, mortality presents its formidable frown. I left three old friendsat Lichfield when I was last there, and now found them all dead. I nosooner lose sight of dear Allen, than I am told that I shall see him nomore. That we must all die, we always knew; I wish I had soonerremembered it. Do not think me intrusive or importunate, if I now call,dear Sir, on you to remember it.'Sept. 2. 'I am glad that a little favour from the court has interceptedyour furious purposes[1130]. I could not in any case have approved suchpublick violence of resentment, and should have considered any whoencouraged it, as rather seeking sport for themselves, than honour foryou. Resentment gratifies him who intended an injury, and pains himunjustly who did not intend it. But all this is now superfluous. I stillcontinue by GOD'S mercy to mend. My breath is easier, my nights arequieter, and my legs are less in bulk, and stronger in use. I have,however, yet a great deal to overcome, before I can yet attain even anold man's health. Write, do write to me now and then; we are now oldacquaintance, and perhaps few people have lived so much and so longtogether, with less cause of complaint on either side. The retrospectionof this is very pleasant, and I hope we shall never think on each otherwith less kindness.'Sept. 9. 'I could not answer your letter[1131] before this day, becauseI went on the sixth to Chatsworth, and did not come back till the postwas gone. Many words, I hope, are not necessary between you and me, toconvince you what gratitude is excited in my heart, by the Chancellor'sliberality and your kind offices. I did not indeed expect that what wasasked by the Chancellor would have been refused[1132], but since it has,we will not tell that any thing has been asked. I have enclosed a letterto the Chancellor which, when you have read it, you will be pleased toseal with a head, or other general seal, and convey it to him; had Isent it directly to him, I should have seemed to overlook the favour ofyour intervention. My last letter told you of my advance in health,which, I think, in the whole still continues. Of the hydropick tumourthere is now very little appearance; the asthma is much lesstroublesome, and seems to remit something day after day. I do notdespair of supporting an English winter. At Chatsworth, I met young Mr.Burke, who led me very commodiously into conversation with the Duke andDuchess. We had a very good morning. The dinner was publick[1133].'Sept. 18. 'I flattered myself that this week would have given me aletter from you, but none has come. Write to me now and then, but directyour next to Lichfield. I think, and I hope, am sure, that I still growbetter; I have sometimes good nights; but am still in my legs weak, butso much mended, that I go to Lichfield in hope of being able to pay myvisits on foot, for there are no coaches. I have three letters this day,all about the balloon, I could have been content with one. Do not writeabout the balloon, whatever else you may think proper to say[1134].'October 2. 'I am always proud of your approbation, and therefore wasmuch pleased that you liked my letter. When you copied it[1135], youinvaded the Chancellor's right rather than mine. The refusal I did notexpect, but I had never thought much about it, for I doubted whether theChancellor had so much tenderness for me as to ask. He, being keeper ofthe King's conscience, ought not to be supposed capable of an improperpetition. All is not gold that glitters, as we have often been told; andthe adage is verified in your place[1136] and my favour; but if whathappens does not make us richer, we must bid it welcome, if it makes uswiser. I do not at present grow better, nor much worse; my hopes,however, are somewhat abated, and a very great loss is the loss of hope,but I struggle on as I can.'TO MR. JOHN NICHOLS:--Lichfield, Oct. 20. 'When you were here, you were pleased, as I am told,to think my absence an inconvenience. I should certainly have been veryglad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information about mynative place, of which, however, I know not much, and have reason tobelieve that not much is known. Though I have not given you anyamusement, I have received amusement from you. At Ashbourne, where I hadvery little company, I had the luck to borrow _Mr. Bowyer's Life_[1137];a book so full of contemporary history, that a literary man must findsome of his old friends. I thought that I could, now and then, have toldyou some hints[1138] worth your notice; and perhaps we may talk a lifeover. I hope we shall be much together; you must now be to me what youwere before, and what dear Mr. Allen was, besides. He was takenunexpectedly away, but I think he was a very good man. I have madelittle progress in recovery. I am very weak, and very sleepless; but Ilive on and hope[1139].'This various mass of correspondence, which I have thus brought together,is valuable, both as an addition to the store which the publick alreadyhas of Johnson's writings, and as exhibiting a genuine and noblespecimen of vigour and vivacity of mind, which neither age nor sicknesscould impair or diminish.It may be observed, that his writing in every way, whether for thepublick, or privately to his friends, was by fits and starts; for we seefrequently, that many letters are written on the same day. When he hadonce overcome his aversion to begin, he was, I suppose, desirous to goon, in order to relieve his mind from the uneasy reflection of delayingwhat he ought to do[1140].While in the country, notwithstanding the accumulation of illness whichhe endured, his mind did not lose its powers. He translated an Ode ofHorace[1141], which is printed in his _Works_, and composed severalprayers. I shall insert one of them, which is so wise and energetick, sophilosophical and so pious, that I doubt not of its affordingconsolation to many a sincere Christian, when in a state of mind towhich I believe the best are sometimes liable[1142].And here I am enabled fully to refute a very unjust reflection, by SirJohn Hawkins[1143], both against Dr. Johnson, and his faithful servant,Mr. Francis Barber[1144]; as if both of them had been guilty of culpableneglect towards a person of the name of Heely, whom Sir John chooses tocall a _relation_ of Dr. Johnson's. The fact is, that Mr. Heely was nothis relation; he had indeed been married to one of his cousins, but shehad died without having children, and he had married another woman; sothat even the slight connection which there once had been by _alliance_was dissolved. Dr. Johnson, who had shewn very great liberality to thisman while his first wife was alive, as has appeared in a former part ofthis work[1145], was humane and charitable enough to continue his bountyto him occasionally; but surely there was no strong call of duty uponhim or upon his legatee, to do more. The following letter, obliginglycommunicated to me by Mr. Andrew Strahan, will confirm what Ihave stated:--'TO MR. HEELY, No. 5, IN PYE-STREET, WESTMINSTER.'SIR,'As necessity obliges you to call so soon again upon me, you should atleast have told the smallest sum that will supply your present want; youcannot suppose that I have much to spare. Two guineas is as much as youought to be behind with your creditor. If you wait on Mr. Strahan, inNew-street, Fetter-lane, or in his absence, on Mr. Andrew Strahan, shewthis, by which they are entreated to advance you two guineas, and tokeep this as a voucher.'I am, Sir,'Your humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''Ashbourne, Aug. 12, 1784.'Indeed it is very necessary to keep in mind that Sir John Hawkins hasunaccountably viewed Johnson's character and conduct in almost everyparticular, with an unhappy prejudice[1146].We now behold Johnson for the last time, in his native city, for whichhe ever retained a warm affection, and which, by a sudden apostrophe,under the word _Lich_[1147], he introduces with reverence, into hisimmortal Work, THE ENGLISH DICTIONARY:--_Salve, magna parens![1148]While here, he felt a revival of all the tenderness of filial affection,an instance of which appeared in his ordering the grave-stone andinscription over Elizabeth Blaney[1149] to be substantially andcarefully renewed.To Mr. Henry White[1150], a young clergyman, with whom he now formed anintimacy, so as to talk to him with great freedom, he mentioned that hecould not in general accuse himself of having been an undutiful son.'Once, indeed, (said he,) I was disobedient; I refused to attend myfather to Uttoxeter-market. Pride was the source of that refusal, andthe remembrance of it was painful. A few years ago, I desired to atonefor this fault; I went to Uttoxeter in very bad weather, and stood for aconsiderable time bareheaded in the rain, on the spot where my father'sstall used to stand. In contrition I stood, and I hope the penance wasexpiatory[1151].''I told him (says Miss Seward) in one of my latest visits to him, of awonderful learned pig, which I had seen at Nottingham; and which did allthat we have observed exhibited by dogs and horses. The subject amusedhim. 'Then, (said he,) the pigs are a race unjustly calumniated. _Pig_has, it seems, not been wanting to _man_, but _man_ to _pig_. We do notallow _time_ for his education, we kill him at a year old.' Mr. HenryWhite, who was present, observed that if this instance had happened inor before Pope's time, he would not have been justified in instancingthe swine as the lowest degree of groveling instinct[1152]. Dr. Johnsonseemed pleased with the observation, while the person who made itproceeded to remark, that great torture must have been employed, ere theindocility of the animal could have been subdued. 'Certainly, (said theDoctor;) but, (turning to me,) how old is your pig?' I told him, threeyears old. 'Then, (said he,) the pig has no cause to complain; he wouldhave been killed the first year if he had not been _educated_, andprotracted existence is a good recompence for very considerable degreesof torture[1153].'As Johnson had now very faint hopes of recovery, and as Mrs. Thrale wasno longer devoted to him, it might have been supposed that he wouldnaturally have chosen to remain in the comfortable house of his belovedwife's daughter, and end his life where he began it. But there was inhim an animated and lofty spirit[1154], and however complicated diseasesmight depress ordinary mortals, all who saw him, beheld and acknowledgedthe _invictum animum Catonis_[1155]. Such was his intellectual ardoureven at this time, that he said to one friend, 'Sir, I look upon everyday to be lost, in which I do not make a new acquaintance[1156];' and toanother, when talking of his illness, 'I will be conquered; I will notcapitulate[1157].' And such was his love of London, so high a relishhad he of its magnificent extent, and variety of intellectualentertainment, that he languished when absent from it, his mind havingbecome quite luxurious from the long habit of enjoying the metropolis;and, therefore, although at Lichfield, surrounded with friends, wholoved and revered him, and for whom he had a very sincere affection, hestill found that such conversation as London affords, could be found nowhere else. These feelings, joined, probably, to some flattering hopesof aid from the eminent physicians and surgeons in London, who kindlyand generously attended him without accepting fees, made him resolve toreturn to the capital. From Lichfield he came to Birmingham, where hepassed a few days with his worthy old schoolfellow, Mr. Hector, who thuswrites to me:--'He was very solicitous with me to recollect some of our most earlytransactions, and transmit them to him, for I perceive nothing gave himgreater pleasure than calling to mind those days of our innocence. Icomplied with his request, and he only received them a few days beforehis death. I have transcribed for your inspection, exactly the minutes Iwrote to him.'This paper having been found in his repositories after his death, SirJohn Hawkins has inserted it entire[1158], and I have made occasionaluse of it and other communications from Mr. Hector[1159], in the courseof this Work. I have both visited and corresponded with him since Dr.Johnson's death, and by my inquiries concerning a great variety ofparticulars have obtained additional information. I followed the samemode with the Reverend Dr. Taylor, in whose presence I wrote down a gooddeal of what he could tell; and he, at my request, signed his name, togive it authenticity. It is very rare to find any person who is able togive a distinct account of the life even of one whom he has knownintimately, without questions being put to them. My friend Dr.Kippis[1160] has told me, that on this account it is a practice with himto draw out a biographical catechism.Johnson then proceeded to Oxford, where he was again kindly received byDr. Adams[1161], who was pleased to give me the following account in oneof his letters, (Feb. 17th, 1785):--'His last visit was, I believe, to my house, which he left, after a stayof four or five days. We had much serious talk together, for which Iought to be the better as long as I live. You will remember somediscourse which we had in the summer upon the subject of prayer, and thedifficulty of this sort of composition[1162]. He reminded me of this,and of my having wished him to try his hand, and to give us a specimenof the style and manner that he approved. He added, that he was now in aright frame of mind, and as he could not possibly employ his timebetter, he would in earnest set about it. But I find upon enquiry, thatno papers of this sort were left behind him, except a few shortejaculatory forms suitable to his present situation.'Dr. Adams had not then received accurate information on this subject;for it has since appeared that various prayers had been composed by himat different periods, which, intermingled with pious resolutions, andsome short notes of his life, were entitled by him _Prayers andMeditations_, and have, in pursuance of his earnest requisition, inthe hopes of doing good, been published, with a judicious well-writtenPreface, by the Reverend Mr. Strahan, to whom he delivered them[1163].This admirable collection, to which I have frequently referred in thecourse of this Work, evinces, beyond all his compositions for thepublick, and all the eulogies of his friends and admirers, the sincerevirtue and piety of Johnson. It proves with unquestionable authenticity,that amidst all his constitutional infirmities, his earnestness toconform his practice to the precepts of Christianity was unceasing, andthat he habitually endeavoured to refer every transaction of his life tothe will of the Supreme Being.He arrived in London on the 16th of November, and next day sent to Dr.Burney the following note, which I insert as the last token of hisremembrance of that ingenious and amiable man, and as another of themany proofs of the tenderness and benignity of his heart:--