约翰逊4-6-5

in his expectations.An instance at once of his pensive turn of mind, and his cheerfulness oftemper, appeared in a little story which he himself told to Mr. Langton,when they were walking in his garden: 'Here (said he) I had put ahandsome sun-dial, with this inscription, _Eheu fugaces!_[206] which(speaking with a smile) was sadly verified, for by the next morning mydial had been carried off.'[207]'It gives me much pleasure to observe, that however Johnson may havecasually talked,[208] yet when he sits, as "an ardent judge zealous tohis trust, giving sentence" [209] upon the excellent works of Young, heallows them the high praise to which they are justly entitled."The _Universal Passion_ (says he) is indeed a very greatperformance,--his distichs have the weight of solid sentiment, and hispoints the sharpness of resistless truth."'[210]But I was most anxious concerning Johnson's decision upon _NightThoughts_, which I esteem as a mass of the grandest and richest poetrythat human genius has ever produced; and was delighted to find thischaracter of that work: 'In his _Night Thoughts_, he has exhibited avery wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflectionsand striking allusions; a wilderness of thought, in which the fertilityof fancy scatters flowers of every hue and of every odour. This is oneof the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhime butwith disadvantage.'[211] And afterwards, 'Particular lines are not to beregarded; the power is in the whole; and in the whole there is amagnificence like that ascribed to Chinese plantation[212], themagnificence of vast extent and endless diversity.'But there is in this Poem not only all that Johnson so well brings inview, but a power of the _Pathetick_ beyond almost any example that Ihave seen. He who does not feel his nerves shaken, and his heart piercedby many passages in this extraordinary work, particularly by that mostaffecting one, which describes the gradual torment suffered by thecontemplation of an object of affectionate attachment, visibly andcertainly decaying into dissolution, must be of a hard and obstinateframe[213].To all the other excellencies of _Night Thoughts_ let me add the greatand peculiar one, that they contain not only the noblest sentiments ofvirtue, and contemplations on immortality, but the _ChristianSacrifice_, the _Divine Propitiation_, with all its interestingcircumstances, and consolations to 'a wounded spirit[214],' solemnly andpoetically displayed in such imagery and language, as cannot fail toexalt, animate, and soothe the truly pious. No book whatever can berecommended to young persons, with better hopes of seasoning their mindswith _vital religion_, than YOUNG'S _Night Thoughts_.In the Life of SWIFT, it appears to me that Johnson had a certain degreeof prejudice against that extraordinary man, of which I have elsewherehad occasion to speak[215]. Mr. Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposedapprehension in Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active inobtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited[216], but ofthis there was not sufficient evidence; and let me not presume to chargeJohnson with injustice, because he did not think so highly of thewritings of this authour, as I have done from my youth upwards. Yet thathe had an unfavourable bias is evident, were it only from that passagein which he speaks of Swift's practice of saving, as, 'first ridiculousand at last detestable;' and yet after some examination ofcircumstances, finds himself obliged to own, that 'it will perhapsappear that he only liked one mode of expence better than another, andsaved merely that he might have something to give[217].'One observation which Johnson makes in Swift's life should be ofteninculcated:--'It may be justly supposed, that there was in his conversation whatappears so frequently in his letters, an affectation of familiarity withthe great, an ambition of momentary equality, sought and enjoyed by theneglect of those ceremonies which custom has established as the barriersbetween one order of society and another. This transgression ofregularity was by himself and his admirers termed greatness of soul; buta great mind disdains to hold any thing by courtesy, and therefore neverusurps what a lawful claimant may take away. He that encroaches onanother's dignity puts himself in his power; he is either repelled withhelpless indignity, or endured by clemency and condescension[218].'_Various Readings in the Life of Swift_.'Charity may be persuaded to think that it might be written by a man of_a_ peculiar [opinions] _character_, without ill intention.He did not [disown] _deny_ it.'[To] _by_ whose kindness it is not unlikely that he was [indebted for]_advanced to_ his benefices.[With] _for_ this purpose he had recourse to Mr. Harley.Sharpe, whom he [represents] _describes_ as "the harmless tool ofothers' hate."Harley was slow because he was [irresolute] _doubtful_.When [readers were not many] _we were not yet a nation of readers_.[Every man who] _he that could say he_ knew him.Every man of known influence has so many [more] petitions [than] _which_he [can] _cannot_ grant, that he must necessarily offend more than he[can gratify] _gratifies_.Ecclesiastical [preferments] _benefices_.'Swift [procured] _contrived_ an interview.[As a writer] _In his works_ he has given very different specimens.On all common occasions he habitually [assumes] _affects_ a style of[superiority] _arrogance_.By the [omission] _neglect_ of those ceremonies.That their merits filled the world [and] _or that_ there was no [roomfor] _hope of_ more.'I have not confined myself to the order of the _Lives_, in making my fewremarks. Indeed a different order is observed in the originalpublication, and in the collection of Johnson's _Works_. And should itbe objected, that many of my various readings are inconsiderable, thosewho make the objection will be pleased to consider, that such smallparticulars are intended for those who are nicely critical incomposition, to whom they will be an acceptable selection[219]._Spence's Anecdotes_, which are frequently quoted and referred to inJohnson's _Lives of the Poets_, are in a manuscript collection, made bythe Reverend Mr. Joseph Spence[220], containing a number of particularsconcerning eminent men. To each anecdote is marked the name of theperson on whose authority it is mentioned. This valuable collection isthe property of the Duke of Newcastle, who upon the application of SirLucas Pepys, was pleased to permit it to be put into the hands of Dr.Johnson, who I am sorry to think made but an aukward return. 'Greatassistance (says he) has been given me by Mr. Spence's Collection, ofwhich I consider the communication as a favour worthy of publickacknowledgement[221];' but he has not owned to whom he was obliged; sothat the acknowledgement is unappropriated to his Grace.While the world in general was filled with admiration of Johnson's_Lives of the Poets_, there were narrow circles in which prejudice andresentment were fostered, and from which attacks of different sortsissued against him[222]. By some violent Whigs he was arraigned ofinjustice to Milton; by some Cambridge men of depreciating Gray; and hisexpressing with a dignified freedom what he really thought of George,Lord Lyttelton, gave offence to some of the friends of that nobleman,and particularly produced a declaration of war against him from Mrs.Montagu, the ingenious Essayist on Shakspeare, between whom and hisLordship a commerce of reciprocal compliments had long been carriedon[223]. In this war the smaller powers in alliance with him were ofcourse led to engage, at least on the defensive, and thus I for one wasexcluded from the enjoyment of 'A Feast of Reason,' such as Mr.Cumberland has described, with a keen, yet just and delicate pen, in his_Observer_[224]. These minute inconveniencies gave not the leastdisturbance to Johnson. He nobly said, when I talked to him of thefeeble, though shrill outcry which had been raised, 'Sir, I consideredmyself as entrusted with a certain portion of truth. I have given myopinion sincerely; let them shew where they think me wrong[225].'While my friend is thus contemplated in the splendour derived from hislast and perhaps most admirable work, I introduce him with peculiarpropriety as the correspondent of WARREN HASTINGS! a man whose regardreflects dignity even upon JOHNSON; a man, the extent of whose abilitieswas equal to that of his power; and who, by those who are fortunateenough to know him in private life, is admired for his literature andtaste, and beloved for the candour, moderation, and mildness of hischaracter. Were I capable of paying a suitable tribute of admiration tohim, I should certainly not withhold it at a moment[226] when it is notpossible that I should be suspected of being an interested flatterer.But how weak would be my voice after that of the millions whom hegoverned. His condescending and obliging compliance with mysolicitation, I with humble gratitude acknowledge; and while bypublishing his letter to me, accompanying the valuable communication, Ido eminent honour to my great friend, I shall entirely disregard anyinvidious suggestions, that as I in some degree participate in thehonour, I have, at the same time, the gratification of my own vanityin view.'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. Park Lane, Dec. 2, 1790.SIR,I have been fortunately spared the troublesome suspense of a longsearch, to which, in performance of my promise, I had devoted thismorning, by lighting upon the objects of it among the first papers thatI laid my hands on: my veneration for your great and good friend, Dr.Johnson, and the pride, or I hope something of a better sentiment, whichI indulged in possessing such memorials of his good will towards me,having induced me to bind them in a parcel containing other selectpapers, and labelled with the titles appertaining to them. They consistbut of three letters, which I believe were all that I ever received fromDr. Johnson. Of these, one, which was written in quadruplicate, underthe different dates of its respective dispatches, has already been madepublick[227], but not from any communication of mine. This, however, Ihave joined to the rest; and have now the pleasure of sending them toyou for the use to which you informed me it was your desire todestine them.'My promise was pledged with the condition, that if the letters werefound to contain any thing which should render them improper for thepublick eye, you would dispense with the performance of it. You willhave the goodness, I am sure, to pardon my recalling this stipulation toyour recollection, as I should be both to appear negligent of thatobligation which is always implied in an epistolary confidence. In thereservation of that right I have read them over with the most scrupulousattention, but have not seen in them the slightest cause on that groundto withhold them from you. But, though not on that, yet on anotherground I own I feel a little, yet but a little, reluctance to part withthem: I mean on that of my own credit, which I fear will suffer by theinformation conveyed by them, that I was early in the possession of suchvaluable instructions for the beneficial employment of the influence ofmy late station, and (as it may seem) have so little availed myself ofthem. Whether I could, if it were necessary, defend myself against suchan imputation, it little concerns the world to know. I look only to theeffect which these relicks may produce, considered as evidences of thevirtues of their authour: and believing that they will be found todisplay an uncommon warmth of private friendship, and a mind everattentive to the improvement and extension of useful knowledge, andsolicitous for the interests of mankind, I can cheerfully submit to thelittle sacrifice of my own fame, to contribute to the illustration of sogreat and venerable a character. They cannot be better applied, for thatend, than by being entrusted to your hands. Allow me, with thisoffering, to infer from it a proof of the very great esteem with which Ihave the honour to profess myself, Sir,Your most obedientAnd most humble servant,'WARREN HASTINGS.''_P.S_. At some future time, and when you have no further occasion forthese papers, I shall be obliged to you if you would return them.'The last of the three letters thus graciously put into my hands, andwhich has already appeared in publick, belongs to this year; but I shallpreviously insert the first two in the order of their dates. Theyaltogether form a grand group in my biographical picture.TO THE HONOURABLE WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ.'SIR,Though I have had but little personal knowledge of you, I have hadenough to make me wish for more; and though it be now a long time sinceI was honoured by your visit, I had too much pleasure from it to forgetit. By those whom we delight to remember, we are unwilling to beforgotten; and therefore I cannot omit this opportunity of revivingmyself in your memory by a letter which you will receive from the handsof my friend Mr. Chambers[228]; a man, whose purity of manners andvigour of mind are sufficient to make every thing welcome thathe brings.That this is my only reason for writing, will be too apparent by theuselessness of my letter to any other purpose. I have no questions toask; not that I want curiosity after either the ancient or present stateof regions in which have been seen all the power and splendour ofwide-extended empire; and which, as by some grant of naturalsuperiority, supply the rest of the world with almost all that pridedesires and luxury enjoys. But my knowledge of them is too scanty tofurnish me with proper topicks of enquiry; I can only wish forinformation; and hope, that a mind comprehensive like yours will findleisure, amidst the cares of your important station, to enquire intomany subjects of which the European world either thinks not at all, orthinks with deficient intelligence and uncertain conjecture. I shallhope, that he who once intended to increase the learning of his countryby the introduction of the Persian language[229], will examine nicelythe traditions and histories of the East; that he will survey thewonders of its ancient edifices, and trace the vestiges of its ruinedcities; and that, at his return, we shall know the arts and opinions ofa race of men, from whom very little has been hitherto derived.You, Sir, have no need of being told by me, how much may be added byyour attention and patronage to experimental knowledge and naturalhistory. There are arts of manufacture practised in the countries inwhich you preside, which are yet very imperfectly known here, either toartificers or philosophers. Of the natural productions, animate andinanimate, we yet have so little intelligence, that our books arefilled, I fear, with conjectures about things which an Indian peasantknows by his senses.Many of those things my first wish is to see; my second to know, by suchaccounts as a man like you will be able to give.As I have not skill to ask proper questions, I have likewise no suchaccess to great men as can enable me to send you any politicalinformation. Of the agitations of an unsettled government, and thestruggles of a feeble ministry[230], care is doubtless taken to give youmore exact accounts than I can obtain. If you are inclined to interestyourself much in publick transactions, it is no misfortune to you to beso distant from them.That literature is not totally forsaking us, and that your favouritelanguage is not neglected, will appear from the book[231], which Ishould have pleased myself more with sending, if I could have presentedit bound: but time was wanting. I beg, however, Sir, that you willaccept it from a man very desirous of your regard; and that if you thinkme able to gratify you by any thing more important you will employ me.I am now going to take leave, perhaps a very long leave, of my dear Mr.Chambers. That he is going to live where you govern, may justlyalleviate the regret of parting; and the hope of seeing both him and youagain, which I am not willing to mingle with doubt, must at presentcomfort as it can, Sir, Your most humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON.March 30, 1774.'To THE SAME.'SIR,Being informed that by the departure of a ship, there is now anopportunity of writing to Bengal, I am unwilling to slip out of yourmemory by my own negligence, and therefore take the liberty of remindingyou of my existence, by sending you a book which is not yetmade publick.I have lately visited a region less remote, and less illustrious thanIndia, which afforded some occasions for speculation; what has occurredto me, I have put into the volume[232], of which I beg your acceptance.Men in your station seldom have presents totally disinterested; my bookis received, let me now make my request.There is, Sir, somewhere within your government, a young adventurer, oneChauncey Lawrence, whose father is one of my oldest friends. Be pleasedto shew the young man what countenance is fit, whether he wants to berestrained by your authority, or encouraged by your favour. His fatheris now President of the College of Physicians, a man venerable for hisknowledge, and more venerable for his virtue[233].I wish you a prosperous government, a safe return, and a long enjoymentof plenty and tranquillity.I am, Sir,Your most obedientAnd most humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON[234].London, Dec. 20, 1774.'TO THE SAME.'Jan. 9, 1781.Sir,Amidst the importance and multiplicity of affairs in which your greatoffice engages you, I take the liberty of recalling your attention for amoment to literature, and will not prolong the interruption by anapology which your character makes needless.Mr. Hoole, a gentleman long known, and long esteemed in the India-House,after having translated Tasso[235], has undertaken Ariosto. How well heis qualified for his undertaking he has already shewn. He is desirous,Sir, of your favour in promoting his proposals, and flatters me bysupposing that my testimony may advance his interest.It is a new thing for a clerk of the India-House to translate poets;--it is new for a Governour of Bengal to patronize learning. That he mayfind his ingenuity rewarded, and that learning may flourish under yourprotection, is the wish of, Sir, Your most humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON.'I wrote to him in February, complaining of having been troubled by arecurrence of the perplexing question of Liberty and Necessity;--andmentioning that I hoped soon to meet him again in London.'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.DEAR SIR,I hoped you had got rid of all this hypocrisy of misery. What have youto do with Liberty and Necessity[236]? Or what more than to hold yourtongue about it? Do not doubt but I shall be most heartily glad to seeyou here again, for I love every part about you but your affectationof distress.I have at last finished my _Lives_, and have laid up for you a load ofcopy[237], all out of order, so that it will amuse you a long time toset it right. Come to me, my dear Bozzy, and let us be as happy as wecan. We will go again to the Mitre, and talk old times over.I am, dear Sir,Yours affectionately,'SAM. JOHNSON.'March, 14, 1781.On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on Tuesday, the 20th, methim in Fleet-street, walking, or rather indeed moving along; for hispeculiar march is thus described in a very just and picturesque manner,in a short Life[238] of him published very soon after his death:--'Whenhe walked the streets, what with the constant roll of his head, and theconcomitant motion of his body, he appeared to make his way by thatmotion, independent of his feet.' That he was often much stared at whilehe advanced in this manner, may easily be believed; but it was not safeto make sport of one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one day,in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load off a porter'sback, and walk forward briskly, without being conscious of what hehad done.