约翰逊4-6-17

Such was the general vigour of his constitution, that he recovered fromthis alarming and severe attack with wonderful quickness; so that inJuly he was able to make a visit to Mr. Langton at Rochester[720], wherehe passed about a fortnight, and made little excursions as easily as atany time of his life[721]. In August he went as far as the neighbourhoodof Salisbury, to Heale[722], the seat of William Bowles, Esq[723]., agentleman whom I have heard him praise for exemplary religious order inhis family. In his diary I find a short but honourable mention of thisvisit: 'August 28, I came to Heale without fatigue. 30. I am entertainedquite to my mind.''To DR. BROCKLESBY. Heale, near Salisbury, Aug. 29, 1783.DEAR SIR, Without appearing to want a just sense of your kind attention,I cannot omit to give an account of the day which seemed to appear insome sort perilous. I rose at five and went out at six, and havingreached Salisbury about nine[724], went forward a few miles in myfriend's chariot. I was no more wearied with the journey, though it wasa high-hung, rough coach, than I should have been forty years ago. Weshall now see what air will do. The country is all a plain; and thehouse in which I am, so far as I can judge from my window, for I writebefore I have left my chamber, is sufficiently pleasant.Be so kind as to continue your attention to Mrs. Williams; it is greatconsolation to the well, and still greater to the sick, that they findthemselves not neglected; and I know that you will be desirous of givingcomfort even where you have no great hope of giving help.Since I wrote the former part of the letter, I find that by the courseof the post I cannot send it before the thirty-first.I am, &c. SAM. JOHNSON.'While he was here he had a letter from Dr. Brocklesby, acquainting himof the death of Mrs. Williams, which affected him a good deal[725].Though for several years her temper had not been complacent, she hadvaluable qualities, and her departure left a blank in his house[726].Upon this occasion he, according to his habitual course of piety,composed a prayer[727].I shall here insert a few particulars concerning him, with which I havebeen favoured by one of his friends[728].'He had once conceived the design of writing the Life of OliverCromwell[729], saying, that he thought it must be highly curious totrace his extraordinary rise to the supreme power, from so obscure abeginning. He at length laid aside his scheme, on discovering that allthat can be told of him is already in print; and that it isimpracticable to procure any authentick information in addition to whatthe world is already possessed of[730].''He had likewise projected, but at what part of his life is not known, awork to shew how small a quantity of REAL FICTION there is in the world;and that the same images, with very little variation, have served allthe authours who have ever written[731].''His thoughts in the latter part of his life were frequently employed onhis deceased friends. He often muttered these, or such like sentences:"Poor man! and then he died."''Speaking of a certain literary friend, "He is a very pompous puzzlingfellow, (said he); he lent me a letter once that somebody had written tohim, no matter what it was about; but he wanted to have the letter back,and expressed a mighty value for it; he hoped it was to be met withagain, he would not lose it for a thousand pounds. I layed my hand uponit soon afterwards, and gave it him. I believe I said, I was very gladto have met with it. O, then he did not know that it signified anything. So you see, when the letter was lost it was worth a thousandpounds, and when it was found it was not worth a farthing."''The style and character of his conversation is pretty generally known;it was certainly conducted in conformity with a precept of Lord Bacon,but it is not clear, I apprehend, that this conformity was eitherperceived or intended by Johnson. The precept alluded to is as follows:"In all kinds of speech, either pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, itis convenient to speak leisurely, and rather drawingly than hastily:because hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes, besides theunseemliness, drives the man either to stammering, a non-plus, orharping on that which should follow; whereas a slow speech confirmeththe memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers, besides aseemliness of speech and countenance[732]." Dr. Johnson's method ofconversation was certainly calculated to excite attention, and to amuseand instruct, (as it happened,) without wearying or confusing hiscompany. He was always most perfectly clear and perspicuous; and hislanguage was so accurate, and his sentences so neatly constructed, thathis conversation might have been all printed without any correction. Atthe same time, it was easy and natural; the accuracy of it had noappearance of labour, constraint, or stiffness; he seemed more correctthan others, by the force of habit, and the customary exercises of hispowerful mind[733].''He spoke often in praise of French literature. "The French areexcellent in this, (he would say,) they have a book on everysubject[734]." From what he had seen of them he denied them the praiseof superiour politeness[735], and mentioned, with very visible disgust,the custom they have of spitting on the floors of their apartments."This, (said the Doctor) is as gross a thing as can well be done; andone wonders how any man, or set of men, can persist in so offensive apractice for a whole day together; one should expect that the firsteffort towards civilization would remove it even among savages[736]."''Baxter's _Reasons of the Christian Religion_, he thought contained thebest collection of the evidences of the divinity of theChristian system.''Chymistry[737] was always an interesting pursuit with Dr. Johnson.Whilst he was in Wiltshire, he attended some experiments that were madeby a physician at Salisbury, on the new kinds of air[738]. In thecourse of the experiments frequent mention being made of Dr. Priestley,Dr. Johnson knit his brows, and in a stern manner enquired, "Why do wehear so much of Dr. Priestley[739]?" He was very properly answered,"Sir, because we are indebted to him for these important discoveries."On this Dr. Johnson appeared well content; and replied, "Well, well, Ibelieve we are; and let every man have the honour he has merited."''A friend was one day, about two years before his death, struck withsome instance of Dr. Johnson's great candour. "Well, Sir, (said he,) Iwill always say that you are a very candid man." "Will you," (replied theDoctor,) I doubt then you will be very singular. But, indeed, Sir,(continued he,) I look upon myself to be a man very much misunderstood.I am not an uncandid, nor am I a severe man. I sometimes say more than Imean, in jest; and people are apt to believe me serious: however, I ammore candid than I was when I was younger. As I know more of mankind Iexpect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a _good man_, uponeasier terms than I was formerly[740].'On his return from Heale he wrote to Dr. Burney:--'I came home on the 18th[741] at noon to a very disconsolate house. Youand I have lost our friends[742]; but you have more friends at home. Mydomestick companion is taken from me. She is much missed, for heracquisitions were many, and her curiosity universal; so that she partookof every conversation[743]. I am not well enough to go much out; and tosit, and eat, or fast alone, is very wearisome. I always mean to send mycompliments to all the ladies.'His fortitude and patience met with severe trials during this year. Thestroke of the palsy has been related circumstantially; but he was alsoafflicted with the gout, and was besides troubled with a complaint whichnot only was attended with immediate inconvenience, but threatened himwith a chirurgical operation, from which most men would shrink. Thecomplaint was a _sarcocele_, which Johnson bore with uncommon firmness,and was not at all frightened while he looked forward to amputation. Hewas attended by Mr. Pott and Mr. Cruikshank. I have before me a letterof the 30th of July this year, to Mr. Cruikshank, in which he says, 'Iam going to put myself into your hands;' and another, accompanying a setof his _Lives of the Poets_, in which he says, 'I beg your acceptance ofthese volumes, as an acknowledgement of the great favours which you havebestowed on, Sir, your most obliged and most humble servant.' I have inmy possession several more letters from him to Mr. Cruikshank, and alsoto Dr. Mudge at Plymouth, which it would be improper to insert, as theyare filled with unpleasing technical details. I shall, however, extractfrom his letters to Dr. Mudge such passages as shew either a felicity ofexpression, or the undaunted state of his mind.'My conviction of your skill, and my belief of your friendship,determine me to intreat your opinion and advice.'--'In this state I withgreat earnestness desire you to tell me what is to be done. Excision isdoubtless necessary to the cure, and I know not any means of palliation.The operation is doubtless painful; but is it dangerous? The pain I hopeto endure with decency[744]; but I am loth to put life into muchhazard.'--'By representing the gout as an antagonist to the palsy, youhave said enough to make it welcome. This is not strictly the first fit,but I hope it is as good as the first; for it is the second that everconfined me; and the first was ten years ago[745], much less fierce andfiery than this.'--'Write, dear Sir, what you can to inform or encourageme. The operation is not delayed by any fears or objections of mine.'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ. 'Dear Sir, You may very reasonably charge mewith insensibility of your kindness, and that of Lady Rothes, since Ihave suffered so much time to pass without paying any acknowledgement. Inow, at last, return my thanks; and why I did it not sooner I ought totell you. I went into Wiltshire as soon as I well could, and was theremuch employed in palliating my own malady. Disease produces muchselfishness. A man in pain is looking after ease; and lets most otherthings go as chance shall dispose of them. In the mean time I have losta companion[746], to whom I have had recourse for domestick amusementfor thirty years, and whose variety of knowledge never was exhausted;and now return to a habitation vacant and desolate. I carry about a verytroublesome and dangerous complaint, which admits no cure but by thechirurgical knife. Let me have your prayers. I am, &c.SAM. JOHNSON. London, Sept. 29, 1783.'Happily the complaint abated without his being put to the torture ofamputation. But we must surely admire the manly resolution which hediscovered while it hung over him.In a letter to the same gentleman he writes, 'The gout has within thesefour days come upon me with a violence which I never experienced before.It made me helpless as an infant.' And in another, having mentioned Mrs.Williams, he says,--'whose death following that of Levett, has now mademy house a solitude. She left her little substance to a charity-school.She is, I hope, where there is neither darkness, nor want, nor sorrow.'I wrote to him, begging to know the state of his health, and mentionedthat Baxter's _Anacreon_[747], 'which is in the library at Auchinleck,was, I find, collated by my father in 1727, with the MS. belonging tothe University of Leyden, and he has made a number of Notes upon it.Would you advise me to publish a new edition of it?'His answer was dated September 30:--'You should not make your letters such rarities, when you know, or mightknow, the uniform state of my health. It is very long since I heard fromyou; and that I have not answered is a very insufficient reason for thesilence of a friend. Your _Anacreon_ is a very uncommon book; neitherLondon nor Cambridge can supply a copy of that edition. Whether itshould be reprinted, you cannot do better than consult LordHailes.--Besides my constant and radical disease, I have been for theseten days much harassed with the gout; but that has now remitted. I hopeGOD will yet grant me a little longer life, and make me less unfit toappear before him.'He this autumn received a visit from the celebrated Mrs. Siddons. Hegives this account of it in one of his letters[748] to Mrs. Thrale:--'Mrs. Siddons, in her visit to me, behaved with great modesty andpropriety, and left nothing behind her to be censured or despised.Neither praise nor money, the two powerful corrupters of mankind, seemto have depraved her. I shall be glad to see her again. Her brotherKemble calls on me, and pleases me very well. Mrs. Siddons and I talkedof plays; and she told me her intention of exhibiting this winter thecharacters of Constance, Catharine, and Isabella, in Shakspeare.'Mr. Kemble has favoured me with the following minute of what passed atthis visit:--'When Mrs. Siddons came into the room, there happened to be no chairready for her, which he observing, said with a smile, "Madam, you who sooften occasion a want of seats to other people, will the more easilyexcuse the want of one yourself[749]."Having placed himself by her, he with great good-humour entered upon aconsideration of the English drama; and, among other inquiries,particularly asked her which of Shakspeare's characters she was mostpleased with. Upon her answering that she thought the character of QueenCatharine, in _Henry the Eighth_, the most natural:--"I think so too,Madam, (said he;) and whenever you perform it, I will once more hobbleout to the theatre myself[750]." Mrs. Siddons promised she would doherself the honour of acting his favourite part for him; but manycircumstances happened to prevent the representation of _King Henry theEighth_ during the Doctor's life.'In the course of the evening he thus gave his opinion upon the meritsof some of the principal performers whom he remembered to have seen uponthe stage. "Mrs. Porter,[751] in the vehemence of rage, and Mrs. Clivein the sprightliness of humour, I have never seen equalled. What Clivedid best, she did better than Garrick; but could not do half so manythings well; she was a better romp than any I ever saw in nature[752].Pritchard[753], in common life, was a vulgar ideot; she would talk ofher _gownd_: but, when she appeared upon the stage, seemed to beinspired by gentility and understanding. I once talked with ColleyCibber[754], and thought him ignorant of the principles of his art.Garrick, Madam, was no declaimer; there was not one of his ownscene-shifters who could not have spoken _To be, or not to be_, betterthan he did[755]; yet he was the only actor I ever saw, whom I couldcall a master both in tragedy and comedy[756]; though I liked him bestin comedy. A true conception of character, and natural expression of it,were his distinguished excellencies." Having expatiated, with his usualforce and eloquence, on Mr. Garrick's extraordinary eminence as anactor, he concluded with this compliment to his social talents: "Andafter all, Madam, I thought him less to be envied on the stage than atthe head of a table."'Johnson, indeed, had thought more upon the subject of acting than mightbe generally supposed[757]. Talking of it one day to Mr. Kemble, hesaid, 'Are you, Sir, one of those enthusiasts who believe yourselftransformed into the very character you represent?' Upon Mr. Kemble'sanswering that he had never felt so strong a persuasion himself[758];'To be sure not, Sir, (said Johnson;) the thing is impossible. And ifGarrick really believed himself to be that monster, Richard the Third,he deserved to be hanged every time he performed it[759].'A pleasing instance of the generous attention of one of his friends hasbeen discovered by the publication of Mrs. Thrale's collection of_Letters_. In a letter to one of the Miss Thrales[760], he writes,--'A friend, whose name I will tell when your mamma has tried to guessit, sent to my physician to enquire whether this long train of illnesshad brought me into difficulties for want of money, with an invitationto send to him for what occasion required. I shall write this night tothank him, having no need to borrow.'And afterwards, in a letter to Mrs. Thrale,--'Since you cannot guess, I will tell you, that the generous man wasGerard Hamilton. I returned him a very thankful and respectfulletter[761].'I applied to Mr. Hamilton, by a common friend, and he has been soobliging as to let me have Johnson's letter to him upon this occasion,to adorn my collection.'To THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON.'DEAR SIR,'Your kind enquiries after my affairs, and your generous offers, havebeen communicated to me by Dr. Brocklesby. I return thanks with greatsincerity, having lived long enough to know what gratitude is due tosuch friendship; and entreat that my refusal may not be imputed tosullenness or pride. I am, indeed, in no want. Sickness is, by thegenerosity of my physicians, of little expence to me. But if anyunexpected exigence should press me, you shall see, dear Sir, howcheerfully I can be obliged to so much liberality.'I am, Sir,Your most obedientAnd most humble servant,SAM. JOHNSON.''November, 19, 1783[762].'I find in this, as in former years, notices of his kind attention toMrs. Gardiner[763], who, though in the humble station of atallow-chandler upon Snow-hill, was a woman of excellent good sense,pious, and charitable. She told me, she had been introduced to him byMrs. Masters[764], the poetess, whose volumes he revised, and, it issaid, illuminated here and there with a ray of his own genius. Mrs.Gardiner was very zealous for the support of the Ladies' charity-school,in the parish of St. Sepulchre. It is confined to females; and, I amtold, it afforded a hint for the story of _Betty Broom_ in _TheIdler_[765]. Johnson this year, I find, obtained for it a sermon fromthe late Bishop of St. Asaph, Dr. Shipley, whom he, in one of hisletters to Mrs. Thrale[766], characterises as 'knowing and conversible;'and whom all who knew his Lordship, even those who differed from him inpoliticks, remember with much respect[767].The Earl of Carlisle having written a tragedy, entitled _The FathersRevenge_[768], some of his Lordship's friends applied to Mrs.Chapone[769] to prevail on Dr. Johnson to read and give his opinion ofit[770], which he accordingly did, in a letter to that lady. Sir JoshuaReynolds having informed me that this letter was in Lord Carlisle'spossession, though I was not fortunate enough to have the honour ofbeing known to his Lordship, trusting to the general courtesy ofliterature, I wrote to him, requesting the favour of a copy of it, andto be permitted to insert it in my _Life of Dr. Johnson_. His Lordshipwas so good as to comply with my request, and has thus enabled me toenrich my work with a very fine piece of writing, which displays boththe critical skill and politeness of my illustrious friend; and perhapsthe curiosity which it will excite, may induce the noble and elegantAuthour to gratify the world by the publication[771] of a performance,of which Dr. Johnson has spoken in such terms.'To MRS. CHAPONE.'MADAM,'By sending the tragedy to me a second time[772], I think that a veryhonourable distinction has been shewn me, and I did not delay theperusal, of which I am now to tell the effect.'The construction of the play is not completely regular; the stage istoo often vacant, and the scenes are not sufficiently connected. This,however, would be called by Dryden only a mechanical defect[773]; whichtakes away little from the power of the poem, and which is seen ratherthan felt.'A rigid examiner of the diction might, perhaps, wish some wordschanged, and some lines more vigorously terminated. But from such pettyimperfections what writer was ever free?'The general form and force of the dialogue is of more importance. Itseems to want that quickness of reciprocation which characterises theEnglish drama, and is not always sufficiently fervid or animated.'Of the sentiments I remember not one that I wished omitted. In theimagery I cannot forbear to distinguish the comparison of joy succeedinggrief to light rushing on the eye accustomed to darkness. It seems tohave all that can be desired to make it please. It is new, just, anddelightful[774].'With the characters, either as conceived or preserved, I have no faultto find; but was much inclined to congratulate a writer, who, indefiance of prejudice and fashion, made the Archbishop a good man, andscorned all thoughtless applause, which a vicious churchman would havebrought him.'The catastrophe is affecting. The Father and Daughter both culpable,both wretched, and both penitent, divide between them our pity andour sorrow.'Thus, Madam, I have performed what I did not willingly undertake, andcould not decently refuse. The noble writer will be pleased to remember,that sincere criticism ought to raise no resentment, because judgementis not under the controul of will; but involuntary criticism, as it hasstill less of choice, ought to be more remote from possibilityof offence.'I am, &c.,'SAM. JOHNSON.''November 28, 1783.'I consulted him on two questions of a very different nature: one,whether the unconstitutional influence exercised by the Peers ofScotland in the election of the representatives of the Commons[775], by