约翰逊4-6-10

'I am, dear Sir,Your obliged and most humble servant, SAM, JOHNSON. June 23, 1781.''To THOMAS ASTLE, Esq.[423]'SIR,'I am ashamed that you have been forced to call so often for your books,but it has been by no fault on either side. They have never been out ofmy hands, nor have I ever been at home without seeing you; for to see aman so skilful in the antiquities of my country, is an opportunity ofimprovement not willingly to be missed.'Your notes on Alfred[424] appear to me very judicious and accurate, butthey are too few. Many things familiar to you, are unknown to me, and tomost others; and you must not think too favourably of your readers: bysupposing them knowing, you will leave them ignorant. Measure of land,and value of money, it is of great importance to state with care. Hadthe Saxons any gold coin?'I have much curiosity after the manners and transactions of the middleages, but have wanted either diligence or opportunity, or both. You,Sir, have great opportunities, and I wish you both diligenceand success.'I am, Sir, &c. SAM. JOHNSON. July 17, 1781.'The following curious anecdote I insert in Dr. Burney's own words:--'Dr. Burney related to Dr. Johnson the partiality which his writings hadexcited in a friend of Dr. Burney's, the late Mr. Bewley, well known inNorfolk by the name of the _Philosopher of Massingham_[425]: who, fromthe _Ramblers_ and Plan of his _Dictionary_, and long before theauthour's fame was established by the _Dictionary_ itself, or any otherwork, had conceived such a reverence for him, that he urgently beggedDr. Burney to give him the cover of the first letter he had receivedfrom him, as a relick of so estimable a writer. This was in 1755. In1760[426], when Dr. Burney visited Dr. Johnson at the Temple in London,where he had then Chambers, he happened to arrive there before he wasup; and being shewn into the room where he was to breakfast, findinghimself alone, he examined the contents of the apartment, to try whetherhe could undiscovered steal any thing to send to his friend Bewley, asanother relick of the admirable Dr. Johnson. But finding nothing betterto his purpose, he cut some bristles off his hearth-broom, and enclosedthem in a letter to his country enthusiast, who received them with duereverence. The Doctor was so sensible of the honour done him by a man ofgenius and science, to whom he was an utter stranger, that he said toDr. Burney, "Sir, there is no man possessed of the smallest portion ofmodesty, but must be flattered with the admiration of such a man. I'llgive him a set of my _Lives_, if he will do me the honour to accept ofthem[427]." In this he kept his word; and Dr. Burney had not only thepleasure of gratifying his friend with a present more worthy of hisacceptance than the segment from the hearth-broom, but soon after ofintroducing him to Dr. Johnson himself in Bolt-court, with whom he hadthe satisfaction of conversing a considerable time, not a fortnightbefore his death; which happened in St. Martin's-street, during hisvisit to Dr. Burney, in the house where the great Sir Isaac Newton hadlived and died before.'In one of his little memorandum-books is the following minute:--'August 9, 3 P.M., aetat. 72, in the summer-house at Streatham. Afterinnumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I have retired hither, toplan a life of greater diligence, in hope that I may yet be useful, andbe daily better prepared to appear before my Creator and my Judge, fromwhose infinite mercy I humbly call for assistance and support.'My purpose is,'To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment.'Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks upon the Italianlanguage, for my settled study.'How venerably pious does he appear in these moments of solitude, and howspirited are his resolutions for the improvement of his mind, even inelegant literature, at a very advanced period of life, and whenafflicted with many complaints[428].In autumn he went to Oxford, Birmingham, Lichfield, and Ashbourne, forwhich very good reasons might be given in the conjectural yet positivemanner of writers, who are proud to account for every event which theyrelate[429]. He himself, however, says,'The motives of my journey I hardly know; I omitted it last year, and amnot willing to miss it again[430].'But some good considerations arise, amongst which is the kindlyrecollection of Mr. Hector, surgeon at Birmingham:'Hector is likewise an old friend, the only companion of my childhoodthat passed through the school with me. We have always loved oneanother; perhaps we may be made better by some serious conversation, ofwhich however I have no distinct hope.'He says too,'At Lichfield, my native place, I hope to shew a good example byfrequent attendance on publick worship.'My correspondence with him during the rest of this year was I know notwhy very scanty, and all on my side. I wrote him one letter to introduceMr. Sinclair (now Sir John), the member for Caithness, to hisacquaintance; and informed him in another that my wife had again beenaffected with alarming symptoms of illness.1782: AETAT. 73.--In 1782, his complaints increased, and the history ofhis life this year, is little more than a mournful recital of thevariations of his illness, in the midst of which, however, it willappear from his letters, that the powers of his mind were in nodegree impaired.'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.'DEAR SIR,'I sit down to answer your letter on the same day in which I receivedit, and am pleased that my first letter of the year is to you. No manought to be at ease while he knows himself in the wrong; and I have notsatisfied myself with my long silence. The letter relating to Mr.Sinclair, however, was, I believe, never brought.'My health has been tottering this last year; and I can give no verylaudable account of my time. I am always hoping to do better than I haveever hitherto done.'My journey to Ashbourne and Staffordshire was not pleasant; for whatenjoyment has a sick man visiting the sick[431]?--Shall we ever haveanother frolick like our journey to the Hebrides?'I hope that dear Mrs. Boswell will surmount her complaints; in losingher you would lose your anchor, and be tost, without stability, by thewaves of life[432]. I wish both her and you very many years, andvery happy.'For some months past I have been so withdrawn from the world, that Ican send you nothing particular. All your friends, however, are well,and will be glad of your return to London.'I am, dear Sir,'Yours most affectionately,'SAM. JOHNSON.''January 5, 1782.'At a time when he was less able than he had once been to sustain ashock, he was suddenly deprived of Mr. Levett, which event he thuscommunicated to Dr. Lawrence:--'SIR,'Our old friend, Mr. Levett, who was last night eminently cheerful, diedthis morning. The man who lay in the same room, hearing an uncommonnoise, got up and tried to make him speak, but without effect. He thencalled Mr. Holder, the apothecary, who, though when he came he thoughthim dead, opened a vein, but could draw no blood. So has ended the longlife of a very useful and very blameless man.'I am, Sir,'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''Jan. 17, 1782.'In one of his memorandum-books in my possession, is the followingentry:--'January 20, Sunday. Robert Levett was buried in the church-yard ofBridewell, between one and two in the afternoon. He died on Thursday 17,about seven in the morning, by an instantaneous death. He was an old andfaithful friend; I have known him from about 46. _Commendavi_. May GODhave mercy on him. May he have mercy on me.'Such was Johnson's affectionate regard for Levett[433], that he honouredhis memory with the following pathetick verses:--'Condemd'd to Hope's delusive mine,As on we toil from day to day,By sudden blast or slow declineOur social comforts drop away.Well try'd through many a varying year,See LEVETT to the grave descend;Officious, innocent, sincere,Of every friendless name the friend[434].Yet still he fills affection's eye,Obscurely wise[435], and coarsely kind;Nor, letter'd arrogance[436], denyThy praise to merit unrefin'd.When fainting Nature call'd for aid,And hov'ring Death prepar'd the blow,His vigorous remedy display'dThe power of art without the show.In Misery's darkest caverns known,His ready help was ever nigh,Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,And lonely want retir'd to die[437].No summons mock'd by chill delay,No petty gains disdain'd by pride;The modest wants of every dayThe toil of every day supply'd.His virtues walk'd their narrow round,Nor made a pause, nor left a void;And sure the Eternal Master foundHis single talent well employ'd.The busy day, the peaceful night[438],Unfelt, uncounted, glided by;His frame was firm, his powers were bright,Though now his eightieth year was nigh[439].Then, with no throbs of fiery pain,No cold gradations of decay,Death broke at once the vital chain,And freed his soul the nearest way.'In one of Johnson's registers of this year, there occurs the followingcurious passage:--'Jan. 20[440]. The Ministry is dissolved. I prayed with Francis and gavethanks[441].'It has been the subject of discussion, whether there are two distinctparticulars mentioned here? or that we are to understand the giving ofthanks to be in consequence of the dissolution of the Ministry? Insupport of the last of these conjectures may be urged his mean opinionof that Ministry, which has frequently appeared in the course of thiswork[442]; and it is strongly confirmed by what he said on the subjectto Mr. Seward:--'I am glad the Ministry is removed. Such a bunch ofimbecility never disgraced a country[443]. If they sent a messenger intothe City to take up a printer, the messenger was taken up instead ofthe printer, and committed by the sitting Alderman[444]. If they sentone army to the relief of another, the first army was defeated and takenbefore the second arrived[445]. I will not say that what they did wasalways wrong; but it was always done at a wrong time[446].''TO MRS. STRAHAN.'DEAR MADAM,'Mrs. Williams shewed me your kind letter. This little habitation is nowbut a melancholy place, clouded with the gloom of disease and death. Ofthe four inmates, one has been suddenly snatched away; two are oppressedby very afflictive and dangerous illness; and I tried yesterday to gainsome relief by a third bleeding, from a disorder which has for some timedistressed me, and I think myself to-day much better.'I am glad, dear Madam, to hear that you are so far recovered as to goto Bath. Let me once more entreat you to stay till your health is notonly obtained, but confirmed. Your fortune is such as that no moderateexpence deserves your care; and you have a husband, who, I believe, doesnot regard it. Stay, therefore, till you are quite well. I am, for mypart, very much deserted; but complaint is useless. I hope GOD willbless you, and I desire you to form the same wish for me.'I am, dear Madam,'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''Feb. 4, 1782.''To EDMOND MALONE, ESQ.'SIR,'I have for many weeks been so much out of order, that I have gone outonly in a coach to Mrs. Thrale's, where I can use all the freedom thatsickness requires. Do not, therefore, take it amiss, that I am not withyou and Dr. Farmer. I hope hereafter to see you often.'I am, Sir,'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''Feb. 27, 1782.'To THE SAME.'DEAR SIR,'I hope I grow better, and shall soon be able to enjoy the kindness ofmy friends. I think this wild adherence to Chatterton[447] moreunaccountable than the obstinate defence of Ossian. In Ossian there is anational pride, which may be forgiven, though it cannot be applauded. InChatterton there is nothing but the resolution to say again what hasonce been said.'I am, Sir,'Your humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''March 7, 1782.'These short letters shew the regard which Dr. Johnson entertained forMr. Malone, who the more he is known is the more highly valued. It ismuch to be regretted that Johnson was prevented from sharing the eleganthospitality of that gentleman's table, at which he would in everyrespect have been fully gratified. Mr. Malone, who has so ablysucceeded him as an Editor of Shakspeare, has, in his Preface, donegreat and just honour to Johnson's memory.'TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.'DEAR MADAM,'I went away from Lichfield ill, and have had a troublesome time with mybreath; for some weeks I have been disordered by a cold, of which Icould not get the violence abated, till I had been let blood threetimes. I have not, however, been so bad but that I could have written,and am sorry that I neglected it.'My dwelling is but melancholy; both Williams, and Desmoulins, andmyself, are very sickly: Frank is not well; and poor Levett died in hisbed the other day, by a sudden stroke; I suppose not one minute passedbetween health and death; so uncertain are human things.'Such is the appearance of the world about me; I hope your scenes aremore cheerful. But whatever befalls us, though it is wise to be serious,it is useless and foolish, and perhaps sinful, to be gloomy. Let us,therefore, keep ourselves as easy as we can; though the loss of friendswill be felt, and poor Levett had been a faithful adherent forthirty years.'Forgive me, my dear love, the omission of writing; I hope to mend thatand my other faults. Let me have your prayers.'Make my compliments to Mrs. Cobb, and Miss Adey, and Mr. Pearson, andthe whole company of my friends.I am, my dear,'Your most humble servant,'SAM. JOHNSON.''London, March 2, 1782.'TO THE SAME.'DEAR MADAM,'My last was but a dull letter, and I know not that this will be muchmore cheerful; I am, however, willing to write, because you are desirousto hear from me.'My disorder has now begun its ninth week, for it is not yet over. I waslast Thursday blooded for the fourth time, and have since found myselfmuch relieved, but I am very tender and easily hurt; so that since weparted I have had but little comfort, but I hope that the spring willrecover me; and that in the summer I shall see Lichfield again, for Iwill not delay my visit another year to the end of autumn.'I have, by advertising, found poor Mr. Levett's brothers in Yorkshire,who will take the little he has left: it is but little, yet it will bewelcome, for I believe they are of very low condition.'To be sick, and to see nothing but sickness and death, is but a gloomystate; but I hope better times, even in this world, will come, andwhatever this world may withhold or give, we shall be happy in a betterstate. Pray for me, my dear Lucy.'Make my compliments to Mrs. Cobb, and Miss Adey, and my old friendHetty Baily, and to all the Lichfield ladies.'I am, dear Madam,'Yours, affectionately,'SAM. JOHNSON.''Bolt-court, Fleet-street,March 19, 1782.'On the day on which this letter was written, he thus feelingly mentionshis respected friend and physician, Dr. Lawrence:--'Poor Lawrence has almost lost the sense of hearing; and I have lost theconversation of a learned, intelligent, and communicative companion, anda friend whom long familiarity has much endeared. Lawrence is one of thebest men whom I have known.--_Nostrum omnium miserere Deus_[448].'It was Dr. Johnson's custom when he wrote to Dr. Lawrence concerning hisown health, to use the Latin language[449]. I have been favoured by Miss