'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON[1090].''July 12, 1784.'On the same day he wrote to Mr. Langton:--'I cannot but think that in my languid and anxious state, I have somereason to complain that I receive from you neither enquiry norconsolation. You know how much I value your friendship, and with whatconfidence I expect your kindness, if I wanted any act of tendernessthat you could perform; at least, if you do not know it, I think yourignorance is your own fault. Yet how long is it that I have lived almostin your neighbourhood without the least notice. I do not, however,consider this neglect as particularly shown to me; I hear two of yourmost valuable friends make the same complaint. But why are all thusoverlooked? You are not oppressed by sickness, you are not distracted bybusiness; if you are sick, you are sick of leisure:--And allow yourselfto be told, that no disease is more to be dreaded or avoided. Rather todo nothing than to do good, is the lowest state of a degraded mind.Boileau says to his pupil,'_Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi,Cultivez vos amis_[1091].'--That voluntary debility, which modern language is content to termindolence, will, if it is not counteracted by resolution, render in timethe strongest faculties lifeless, and turn the flame to the smoke ofvirtue. I do not expect nor desire to see you, because I am much pleasedto find that your mother stays so long with you, and I should think youneither elegant nor grateful, if you did not study her gratification.You will pay my respects to both the ladies, and to all the youngpeople. I am going Northward for a while, to try what help the countrycan give me; but, if you will write, the letter will come after me.'Next day he set out on a jaunt to Staffordshire and Derbyshire,flattering himself that he might be in some degree relieved.During his absence from London he kept up a correspondence with severalof his friends, from which I shall select what appears to me proper forpublication, without attending nicely to chronological order.To Dr. BROCKLESBY, he writes, Ashbourne, July 20:--'The kind attention which you have so long shewn to my health andhappiness, makes it as much a debt of gratitude as a call of interest,to give you an account of what befals me, when accident recovers[1092]me from your immediate care. The journey of the first day was performedwith very little sense of fatigue; the second day brought me toLichfield, without much lassitude; but I am afraid that I could not haveborne such violent agitation for many days together. Tell Dr. Heberden,that in the coach I read _Ciceronianus_ which I concluded as I enteredLichfield. My affection and understanding went along with Erasmus,except that once or twice he somewhat unskilfully entangles Cicero'scivil or moral, with his rhetorical, character. I staid five days atLichfield, but, being unable to walk, had no great pleasure, andyesterday (19th) I came hither, where I am to try what air and attentioncan perform. Of any improvement in my health I cannot yet please myselfwith the perception.--The asthma has no abatement. Opiates stop the fit,so as that I can sit and sometimes lie easy, but they do not now procureme the power of motion; and I am afraid that my general strength of bodydoes not encrease. The weather indeed is not benign; but how low is hesunk whose strength depends upon the weather[1093]! I am now lookinginto Floyer[1094] who lived with his asthma to almost his ninetiethyear. His book by want of order is obscure, and his asthma, I think, notof the same kind with mine. Something however I may perhaps learn. Myappetite still continues keen enough; and what I consider as a symptomof radical health, I have a voracious delight in raw summer fruit, ofwhich I was less eager a few years ago[1095]. You will be pleased tocommunicate this account to Dr. Heberden, and if any thing is to bedone, let me have your joint opinion. Now--_abite curoe_;--let meenquire after the Club[1096].'July 31. 'Not recollecting that Dr. Heberden might be at Windsor, Ithought your letter long in coming. But, you know, _nociturapetuntur_[1097], the letter which I so much desired, tells me that Ihave lost one of my best and tenderest friends[1098]. My comfort is,that he appeared to live like a man that had always before his eyes thefragility of our present existence, and was therefore, I hope, notunprepared to meet his judge. Your attention, dear Sir, and that of Dr.Heberden, to my health, is extremely kind. I am loth to think that Igrow worse; and cannot fairly prove even to my own partiality, that Igrow much better.'August 5. 'I return you thanks, dear Sir, for your unwearied attention,both medicinal and friendly, and hope to prove the effect of your careby living to acknowledge it.'August 12[1099]. 'Pray be so kind as to have me in your thoughts, andmention my case to others as you have opportunity. I seem to myselfneither to gain nor lose strength. I have lately tried milk, but haveyet found no advantage, and am afraid of it merely as a liquid. Myappetite is still good, which I know is dear Dr. Heberden's criterion ofthe _vis vitoe_. As we cannot now see each other, do not omit to write,for you cannot think with what warmth of expectation I reckon the hoursof a post-day.'August 14. 'I have hitherto sent you only melancholy letters, you willbe glad to hear some better account. Yesterday the asthma remitted,perceptibly remitted, and I moved with more ease than I have enjoyed formany weeks. May GOD continue his mercy. This account I would not delay,because I am not a lover of complaints, or complainers, and yet I havesince we parted uttered nothing till now but terrour and sorrow. Writeto me, dear Sir.'August 16. 'Better I hope, and better. My respiration gets more and moreease and liberty. I went to church yesterday, after a very liberaldinner, without any inconvenience; it is indeed no long walk, but Inever walked it without difficulty, since I came, before.--the intentionwas only to overpower the seeming _vis inertioe_ of the pectoral andpulmonary muscles. I am favoured with a degree of ease that very muchdelights me, and do not despair of another race upon the stairs of theAcademy[1100]. If I were, however, of a humour to see, or to shew thestate of my body, on the dark side, I might say,_"Quid te exempta juvat spinis de pluribus una[1101]?"_The nights are still sleepless, and the water rises, though it does notrise very fast. Let us, however, rejoice in all the good that we have.The remission of one disease will enable nature to combat the rest. Thesquills I have not neglected; for I have taken more than a hundred dropsa day, and one day took two hundred and fifty, which, according to thepopular equivalence of a drop to a grain, is more than half an ounce. Ithank you, dear Sir, for your attention in ordering the medicines; yourattention to me has never failed. If the virtue of medicines could beenforced by the benevolence of the prescriber, how soon should Ibe well.'August 19. 'The relaxation of the asthma still continues, yet I do nottrust it wholly to itself, but soothe it now and then with an opiate. Inot only perform the perpetual act of respiration with less labour, butI can walk with fewer intervals of rest, and with greater freedom ofmotion. I never thought well of Dr. James's compounded medicines[1102];his ingredients appeared to me sometimes inefficacious and trifling, andsometimes heterogeneous and destructive of each other. This prescriptionexhibits a composition of about three hundred and thirty grains, inwhich there are four grains of emetick tartar, and six drops [of]thebaick tincture. He that writes thus, surely writes for show. Thebasis of his medicine is the gum ammoniacum, which dear Dr. Lawrenceused to give, but of which I never saw any effect. We will, if youplease, let this medicine alone. The squills have every suffrage, and inthe squills we will rest for the present.'August 21. 'The kindness which you shew by having me in your thoughtsupon all occasions, will, I hope, always fill my heart with gratitude.Be pleased to return my thanks to Sir George Baker[1103], for theconsideration which he has bestowed upon me. Is this the balloon thathas been so long expected, this balloon to which I subscribed, butwithout payment[1104]? It is pity that philosophers have beendisappointed, and shame that they have been cheated; but I know not wellhow to prevent either. Of this experiment I have read nothing; where wasit exhibited? and who was the man that ran away with so much money?Continue, dear Sir, to write often and more at a time; for none of yourprescriptions operate to their proper uses more certainly than yourletters operate as cordials.'August 26. 'I suffered you to escape last post without a letter, but youare not to expect such indulgence very often; for I write not so muchbecause I have any thing to say, as because I hope for an answer; andthe vacancy of my life here makes a letter of great value. I have herelittle company and little amusement, and thus abandoned to thecontemplation of my own miseries, I am sometimes gloomy and depressed;this too I resist as I can, and find opium, I think, useful, but Iseldom take more than one grain. Is not this strange weather? Winterabsorbed the spring, and now autumn is come before we have had summer.But let not our kindness for each other imitate the inconstancy ofthe seasons.'Sept. 2. 'Mr. Windham has been here to see me; he came, I think, fortymiles out of his way, and staid about a day and a half, perhaps I makethe time shorter than it was. Such conversation I shall not have againtill I come back to the regions of literature; and there Windham is,_inter stellas_[1105] _Luna minores_[1106].' He then mentions theeffects of certain medicines, as taken; that 'Nature is recovering itsoriginal powers, and the functions returning to their proper state. Godcontinue his mercies, and grant me to use them rightly.'Sept. 9. 'Do you know the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire? And have youever seen Chatsworth? I was at Chatsworth on Monday: I had indeed seenit before[1107], but never when its owners were at home; I was verykindly received, and honestly pressed to stay: but I told them that asick man is not a fit inmate of a great house. But I hope to go againsome time.'Sept. 11. 'I think nothing grows worse, but all rather better, exceptsleep, and that of late has been at its old pranks. Last evening, I feltwhat I had not known for a long time, an inclination to walk foramusement; I took a short walk, and came back again neither breathlessnor fatigued. This has been a gloomy, frigid, ungenial summer, but oflate it seems to mend; I hear the heat sometimes mentioned, but I donot feel it:"Praterea minimus gelido jam in corpore sanguisFebre calet sola[1108].----"I hope, however, with good help, to find means of supporting a winter athome, and to hear and tell at the Club what is doing, and what ought tobe doing in the world. I have no company here, and shall naturally comehome hungry for conversation. To wish you, dear Sir, more leisure, wouldnot be kind; but what leisure you have, you must bestow upon me.'Sept. 16. 'I have now let you alone for a long time, having indeedlittle to say. You charge me somewhat unjustly with luxury. AtChatsworth, you should remember, that I have eaten but once; and theDoctor, with whom I live, follows a milk diet. I grow no fatter, thoughmy stomach, if it be not disturbed by physick, never fails me. I nowgrow weary of solitude, and think of removing next week to Lichfield, aplace of more society, but otherwise of less convenience. When I amsettled, I shall write again. Of the hot weather that you mention, wehave [not] had in Derbyshire very much, and for myself I seldom feelheat, and suppose that my frigidity is the effect of my distemper; asupposition which naturally leads me to hope that a hotter climate maybe useful. But I hope to stand another English winter.'Lichfield, Sept. 29. 'On one day I had three letters about theair-balloon[1109]: yours was far the best, and has enabled me to impartto my friends in the country an idea of this species of amusement. Inamusement, mere amusement, I am afraid it must end, for I do not findthat its course can be directed so as that it should serve any purposesof communication; and it can give no new intelligence of the state ofthe air at different heights, till they have ascended above the heightof mountains, which they seem never likely to do. I came hither on the27th. How long I shall stay I have not determined. My dropsy is gone,and my asthma much remitted, but I have felt myself a little decliningthese two days, or at least to-day; but such vicissitudes must beexpected. One day may be worse than another; but this last month is farbetter than the former; if the next should be as much better than this,I shall run about the town on my own legs.'October 6. 'The fate of the balloon I do not much lament[1110]: to makenew balloons, is to repeat the jest again. We now know a method ofmounting into the air, and, I think, are not likely to know more. Thevehicles can serve no use till we can guide them; and they can gratifyno curiosity till we mount with them to greater heights than we canreach without; till we rise above the tops of the highest mountains,which we have yet not done. We know the state of the air in all itsregions, to the top of Teneriffe, and therefore, learn nothing fromthose who navigate a balloon below the clouds. The first experiment,however, was bold, and deserved applause and reward. But since it hasbeen performed, and its event is known, I had rather now find a medicinethat can ease an asthma.'October 25. 'You write to me with a zeal that animates, and a tendernessthat melts me. I am not afraid either of a journey to London, or aresidence in it. I came down with little fatigue, and am now not weaker.In the smoky atmosphere I was delivered from the dropsy, which Iconsider as the original and radical disease. The town is myelement[1111]; there are my friends, there are my books, to which Ihave not yet bid farewell, and there are my amusements. Sir Joshua toldme long ago that my vocation was to publick life, and I hope still tokeep my station, till GOD shall bid me _Go in peace_[1112].'To MR. HOOLE:--Ashbourne, Aug. 7. 'Since I was here I have two little letters from you,and have not had the gratitude to write. But every man is most free withhis best friends, because he does not suppose that they can suspect himof intentional incivility. One reason for my omission is, that being ina place to which you are wholly a stranger, I have no topicks ofcorrespondence. If you had any knowledge of Ashbourne, I could tell youof two Ashbourne men, who, being last week condemned at Derby to behanged for a robbery, went and hanged themselves in their cell[1113].But this, however it may supply us with talk, is nothing to you. Yourkindness, I know, would make you glad to hear some good of me, but Ihave not much good to tell; if I grow not worse, it is all that I cansay. I hope Mrs. Hoole receives more help from her migration. Make hermy compliments, and write again to, dear Sir, your affectionate servant.'Aug. 13. 'I thank you for your affectionate letter. I hope we shall bothbe the better for each other's friendship, and I hope we shall not veryquickly be parted. Tell Mr. Nicholls that I shall be glad of hiscorrespondence, when his business allows him a little remission; thoughto wish him less business, that I may have more pleasure, would be tooselfish. To pay for seats at the balloon is not very necessary, becausein less than a minute, they who gaze at a mile's distance will see allthat can be seen. About the wings[1114] I am of your mind; they cannotat all assist it, nor I think regulate its motion. I am now grownsomewhat easier in my body, but my mind is sometimes depressed. Aboutthe Club I am in no great pain. The forfeitures go on, and the house, Ihear, is improved for our future meetings. I hope we shall meet oftenand sit long.'Sept. 4. 'Your letter was, indeed, long in coming, but it was verywelcome. Our acquaintance has now subsisted long[1115] and ourrecollection of each other involves a great space, and many littleoccurrences, which melt the thoughts to tenderness. Write to me,therefore, as frequently as you can. I hear from Dr. Brocklesby and Mr.Ryland, that the Club is not crouded. I hope we shall enliven it whenwinter brings us together.'To DR. BURNEY:--August 2. 'The weather, you know, has not been balmy; I am now reducedto think, and am at last content to talk of the weather. Pride must havea fall[1116]. I have lost dear Mr. Allen, and wherever I turn, the deador the dying meet my notice, and force my attention upon misery andmortality. Mrs. Burney's escape from so much danger, and her ease afterso much pain, throws, however, some radiance of hope upon the gloomyprospect. May her recovery be perfect, and her continuance long. Istruggle hard for life. I take physick, and take air; my friend'schariot is always ready. We have run this morning twenty-four miles, andcould run forty-eight more. _But who can run the race with death?_''Sept. 4. [Concerning a private transaction, in which his opinion wasasked, and after giving it he makes the following reflections, which areapplicable on other occasions.] Nothing deserves more compassion thanwrong conduct with good meaning; than loss or obloquy suffered by onewho, as he is conscious only of good intentions, wonders why he losesthat kindness which he wishes to preserve; and not knowing his ownfault, if, as may sometimes happen, nobody will tell him, goes on tooffend by his endeavours to please. I am delighted by finding that ouropinions are the same. You will do me a real kindness by continuing towrite. A post-day has now been long a day of recreation.'Nov. 1. 'Our correspondence paused for want of topicks. I had said whatI had to say on the matter proposed to my consideration; and nothingremained but to tell you, that I waked or slept; that I was more or lesssick. I drew my thoughts in upon myself, and supposed yours employedupon your book. That your book[1117] has been delayed I am glad, sinceyou have gained an opportunity of being more exact. Of the cautionnecessary in adjusting narratives there is no end. Some tell what theydo not know, that they may not seem ignorant, and others from mereindifference about truth. All truth is not, indeed, of equal importance;but, if little violations are allowed, every violation will in time bethought little; and a writer should keep himself vigilantly on his guardagainst the first temptations to negligence or supineness. I had ceasedto write, because respecting you I had no more to say, and respectingmyself could say little good. I cannot boast of advancement, and incases of convalescence it may be said, with few exceptions, _nonprogredi, est regredi_. I hope I may be excepted. My great difficultywas with my sweet Fanny[1118], who, by her artifice of inserting herletter in yours, had given me a precept of frugality[1119] which I wasnot at liberty to neglect; and I know not who were in town under whosecover I could send my letter[1120]. I rejoice to hear that you are allso well, and have a delight particularly sympathetick in the recovery ofMrs. Burney.'To MR. LANGTON:--Aug. 25. 'The kindness of your last letter, and my omission to answerit, begins to give you, even in my opinion, a right to recriminate, andto charge me with forgetfulness for the absent. I will, therefore, delayno longer to give an account of myself, and wish I could relate whatwould please either myself or my friend. On July 13, I left London,partly in hope of help from new air and change of place, and partlyexcited by the sick man's impatience of the present. I got to Lichfieldin a stage vehicle, with very little fatigue, in two days, and had theconsolation[1121] to find, that since my last visit my three oldacquaintance are all dead. July 20, I went to Ashbourne, where I havebeen till now; the house in which we live is repairing. I live in toomuch solitude, and am often deeply dejected: I wish we were nearer, andrejoice in your removal to London. A friend, at once cheerful andserious, is a great acquisition. Let us not neglect one another for thelittle time which Providence allows us to hope. Of my health I cannottell you, what my wishes persuaded me to expect, that it is muchimproved by the season or by remedies. I am sleepless; my legs growweary with a very few steps, and the water breaks its boundaries in somedegree. The asthma, however, has remitted; my breath is still muchobstructed, but is more free than it was. Nights of watchfulness producetorpid days; I read very little, though I am alone; for I am tempted tosupply in the day what I lost in bed. This is my history; like all otherhistories, a narrative of misery. Yet am I so much better than in thebeginning of the year, that I ought to be ashamed of complaining. I nowsit and write with very little sensibility of pain or weakness; but whenI rise, I shall find my legs betraying me. Of the money which youmentioned, I have no immediate need; keep it, however, for me, unlesssome exigence requires it. Your papers I will shew you certainly whenyou would see them, but I am a little angry at you for not keepingminutes of your own _acceptum et expensum_[1122], and think a littletime might be spared from Aristophanes, for the _res familiares_.Forgive me for I mean well. I hope, dear Sir, that you and Lady Rothes,and all the young people, too many to enumerate, are well and happy. GODbless you all.'To MR. WINDHAM:--August. 'The tenderness with which you have been pleased to treat me,through my long illness, neither health nor sickness can, I hope, makeme forget; and you are not to suppose, that after we parted you were nolonger in my mind. But what can a sick man say, but that he is sick? Histhoughts are necessarily concentered in himself; he neither receives norcan give delight; his enquiries are after alleviations of pain, and hisefforts are to catch some momentary comfort. Though I am now in theneighbourhood of the Peak, you must expect no account of its wonders, ofits hills, its waters, its caverns, or its mines; but I will tell you,dear Sir, what I hope you will not hear with less satisfaction, that,for about a week past, my asthma has been less afflictive.'Lichfield. October 2[1123]. 'I believe you have been long enoughacquainted with the _phoenomena_ of sickness, not to be surprised that asick man wishes to be where he is not, and where it appears to everybody but himself that he might easily be, without having the resolutionto remove. I thought Ashbourne a solitary place, but did not come hithertill last Monday. I have here more company, but my health has for thislast week not advanced; and in the languor of disease how little can bedone? Whither or when I shall make my next remove I cannot tell; but Ientreat you, dear Sir, to let me know, from time to time, where you maybe found, for your residence is a very powerful attractive to, Sir, your