^/ p LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, ©{jap. dojmrtgfyi ifo. sheif ms mz UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. " AT LENGTH I DETERMINED TO TRY MY SKILL AND DEXTERITY." — Page 138. X X X X X XX X X X X X ■m -32 -SB -3# -JJS-- ft- ■&■ $ ■ft ■n- •Jl- ■$■ 4" if &£- Doctor Joh nson HIS LIFE WORKS fcf TABLE TALK • X Jllustratcfr ig 3oscpI) JH. (flxl«son Ncto Yorfe: FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY. PUBLISHERS. ¥' ••?!*■ ■■u- Ate ass- £& , , . .^ ff|Si& ^-•^■•••^•■•^-•^•••^-•^•••^••••n--^""n"-KJ""J3 , -''tS'-'^j|gj Copyright, 1893, by Frederick A. Stokes Company. t$i t&t tffa rO« Jsli^i n]*llAj >JvU«J J\U*»J ^Ai. ^> .JL. .JL. -JL jJU- -JU. ^V -JU -JL \y f *y ^ v$ >(> vfi ^ ■;&> <&■&. &.■& <&■ As <& & <& <&- PREFATORY NOTE. SEVENTY years ago Lord Byron, speaking of Johnson's " Lives of the Poets," which he de- scribed as " the finest critical work extant," said, "The opinion of that truly great man, whom it is the present fashion to decry, will ever be received by me with that deference which time will restore to him from all." If there was a temporary eclipse of the fame and popularity of Johnson it has long since passed away. In tyvefatGvtj &ote< every land where the English tongue is spoken, his name is mentioned with respect and honour. The centenary of his death, in 1784, being celebrated in his native city of Lichfield, this little book is offered as a tribute to the me- mory of one who, as a man even more than as an author, was recognized as the chief of the republic of letters in the eighteenth century. May the sha- dow of his great name never grow less, nor the influence of his noble character ever be diminished ! James Macau lay, M.A., M.D. Editor of the " Leisure Hour.'* 'vr^Nr- a tin: • ;.rw» CONTENTS. r PAGE PREFATORY NOTE .... 3 DR. JOHNSON 9 TABLE TALK. LONDON 71 SCOTLAND AND SCOTCHMEN . . 75 JOHNSON AND WILKES . . 80 LUXURY HAS BENEFITS ... 83 GRATIFICATION AT SEEING ONE'S WORKS 84 GOLDSMITH'S WISH FOR NEW MEMBERS AT THE CLUB .... 84 DR. YOUNG OF THE NIGHT THOUGHTS 85 WORKS OF FICTION .... 86 RICHARD BAXTER ... .86 Contend* a medical fop fine coats .... classical quotations . places for worship . hume's argument against mira CLES Johnson's opinion of hume bolingbroke .... the heads on temple bar . drinking and intemperance . begone, dull care ! pleasure or happiness . temperance and abstinence law as a profession conversation edmund burke .... JUNIUS OCEAN DR. PARR .... OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH . LIFE OF A CLERGYMAN . PREACHING A WOMAN PREACHING DAVID GARRICK .... LORD CHATHAM JOHN WESLEY .... BOS WELL AND JOHN WESLEY . GHOSTS THE COCK LANE GHOST . APPARITIONS POSSIBLE FANCY AND FACT AS TO GHOSTS RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD LIFE AT AN INN THE " THREE CROWNS " AT LICHFIELD PRAISE NOT ALWAYS SERVICEABLE DRESS AS INCREASING RESPECT . Content*. johnson's disregard of dress johnson's company manners . gallantry to ladies . mrs. williams . . . . . m;rs. tiirale . second marriages . ... mrs. johnson . signor piozzi . . the game of draughts TEA TO BE CONTINUED .... MRS. MACAULAY, THE REPUBLICAN HISTORIAN PLAYERS ... OSSIAN ..... STUDY IN EARLY LIFE JOHNSON'S ROUGHNESS OF SPEECH, . INFLUENCE OF TRADE ON CHARACTER SEA LIFE A HATTER IN THE BOROUGH DR. GOLDSMITH TALKATIVE LADIES OSBORNE THE BOOKSELLER IRELAND PERSONAL REMARKS AND QUESTIONS FRENCHMEN .... JOHNSON AS AN ATHLETE FOOTE ....... JOHNSON'S AGILITY .... TOLERATION .... LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE AND LIBERTY OF TEACHING .... VALUING THRALE'S BREWERY RIGHT USE OF MONEY ACTION IN ORATORY . THE MEDITERRANEAN (&0ntent&. PAGE BOOKS OF TRAVEL .... 145 DOCTRINE OF THE ATONEMENT . I46 GENIUS I46 NOT UNDERSTANDING AN ARGUMENT I47 FOOTE AND GARRICK .... I47 GARRICK'S ALLEGED PARSIMONY . I47 MARRYING AN HEIRESS . . . I48 CHARITABLE SPIRIT GROWS WITH AGE 149 WOMEN'S CLAIMS OF RIGHTS . . 150 ECCENTRIC LOVE OF DISTINCTION . I50 AN UNLETTERED TALKER . . 151 ABUSIVE CRITICISMS . . . . 151 EARLY TRAINING IN THRIFT . . 151 A CONSOLATION FOR A JEALOUS AUTHOR 1 52 DISLIKE OF FLATTERY . . . 1 52 REBUKE TO GARRULITY . . .153 BIOGRAPHY 154 DULNESS AND PLAINNESS . . .154 CONVENTS 155 FRIENDS OF EARLY AND LATER LIFE . 155 .^....^...jj^..jj^..^...]£...^...^...jj^..^...jjj_..^„..£j....jjj....jjj.. UwUi>u^ut-ui.ui>tim>ruKUi>ULUi.ui> DOCTOR JOHNSON. r IF the fame of Dr. Johnson de- pended on his writings alone, few wreaths would now be laid on his tomb. His name is indeed known, wherever the English language is spoken, as the author of the Dic- tionary; but his other works, whether in prose or verse, have not many readers in our days. They were popu- lar once, but they are little in accord with modern taste ; while the excel- lence of their matter does not make up i* UJuctjcrtr gtofyn^on. in public estimation for the ponderosity of their style. Nevertheless,, he is better known and more highly honoured than any other author of the last century, and no name stands out more con- spicuously in its literary annals. This fulness and freshness of fame, after he has been a hundred years in his grave, he owes in great measure to BoswelPs biography, " which has done more for Johnson," as Lord Macaulay says, " than the best of his own books could do." Boswell shows us the man, and it is as a man rather than as an author that he best deserves to be remembered. This immortal book will perpetuate his renown, and in it the sage appears to us still in stately majesty, as he did when he was supreme and almost without a rival in the literary circles of his time. This position he held as much by his moral excellence as by his intellectual power, and by his conversation more than by writings — a position unique in the his- gifje anb %$&vk#. tory of modern times. Not Dryden, not Addison had such a throne, and we must go back to classic instances, such as Socrates in Athens, or Cato in Rome, to find eminence and influence parallel to that of Johnson in London when George the Third was king. The extraordinary homage paid to Johnson, at least in his latter years, by people of every grade and calling in life, appears to us now scarcely cred- ible, yet the following facts will convince any one that there is no exaggeration as to the deference shown to him. The Doctor had composed a Latin epitaph for the monument in West- minster Abbey to Oliver Goldsmith. Some of his friends thought that it would be better to have the epitaph in English, so that the memory of so eminent an English writer might be per- petuated in that language to which his works are likely to be so lasting an ornament. The subject came up at a dinner at Sir Joshua Reynolds', and all i2 $i0ct&v golynzott. agreed that a respectful request should be made to that effect. But the ques- tion arose as to who was to make the proposal — either to write the epitaph in English, or at least so to alter the Latin as to bring out some of the more popular points of Goldsmith's character and works. No one seemed willing to sign a written petition, which the Bishop of Killaloe drew up, replete with wit and humour, but which it was feared the Doctor might think treated the sub- ject with too much levity. The sug- gestion was made that they might adopt a " round robin," as sailors call it, which they use when making a com- plaint, without wishing it to be seen who puts his name first or last on the paper. The proposition was instantly assented to, and Mr. Burke drew up the well-known Address, in the form in which it appears in Boswell's Life, be- gining, "We, the circumscribers," &c. Sir Joshua consented to carry it to Dr. Johnson, who received the document with great good humour, and desired Sir Joshua to tell the gentlemen " that he would alter the epitaph in any manner they pleased, as to the sense of it ; but he would not consent to disgrace the walls of Westminster Abbey with an English inscription." Fancy a number of distinguished men, among whom were Edmund Burke and Sir Joshua Reynolds, George Colman and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Sir William Forbes and Dean Barnard, James Warton and Edward Gibbon, hesitating to approach Johnson, except in a round robin, like sailors to their captain, or boys to their master ! In a letter to Boswell, a few years later, Bennett Langton describes a scene he had witnessed one evening at Mr. Vesey's house. "The company con- sisted chiefly of ladies, among whom were the Duchess Dowager of Portland , the Duchess of Beaufort, and her mother Mrs. Boscawen, Lady Lucan, Lady Clermont, and others of note, i4 Qoctov &&tyn&0tt< both for their station and under- standings. Among the gentlemen were Lord Althorp, Lord Macartney, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Lord Lucan, Mr Wraxall, Dr. Warren, Mr. Pepys, the Master in Chancery, and Dr. Barnard, Provost of Eton. As soon as Dr. Johnson was come in and had taken a chair, the company began to collect round him till they became not less than four or five deep : those behind standing, and listening over the heads of those that were sitting near him. The conversation for some time was chiefly between Dr. Johnson and the Provost of Eton, while the others contributed occasionally their remarks." This scene is rather a formal one, and looks like an instance of the skilful "lionizing" of a Mrs. Leo Hunter of that day, but it certainly shows the high estimation in which the Doctor was held in the best society. With the exception of two or three men, like Foote or Wolcot, who had gifle cmfcr pr^rk«. motives for their scurrility, there was hardly a man of public note who did not respect Johnson. Those who did not appreciate his moral greatness regarded him with wholesome fear. Even Wilkes, whom everybody abused, and who was ready to abuse everybody, showed marked respect for him. The first time they met at dinner it was feared that the strong antagonism of their political opinions might lead to unpleasant con- test ; but Wilkes met him with studied and courteous deference, and Johnson said afterwards that " Jack talked well ; he is a scholar ; and has the manners of a gentleman." An amusing instance of the Doctor's popularity is reported from Northamp- tonshire, where a man who represented himself as his brother was well received for about two years by the country gentlemen. At length he became so troublesome and impudent that sus- picions arose, and Allen the printer, a Northamptonshire man, was written to. 1 6 QGctov gtoJjn*tftt* Allen went to Johnson, and on being assured that he had no brother living, wrote to the country, and the impostor soon disappeared. In telling this story Johnson said, " It pleased me to hear that so much was got by using my name. It is not every name can carry double; do both for a man's self and his brother ! I should be glad to see the fellow. However, I could have done nothing against him. A man can have no redress for his name being used, or ridiculous stories being told of him in the newspapers, except he can show that he has suffered damage." The fame of Dr. Johnson's conver- sational powers was well known to the king, George III. His majesty signi- fied his desire to be told when he was next at the queen's library, where John- son went occasionally to assist his friend Dr. Barnard, the librarian, in arranging the books. The interview was a most satisfactory one, the king entering into conversation on a great "I FOUND HIS MAJESTY WISHED I SHOULD TALK, AND I MADE IT MY BUSINESS TO TALK,"— Page 17. variety of topics, and listening to John- son in the most gracious manner. " I found his majesty wished I should talk," he said afterwards, "and I made it my business to talk." . Bos well has gathered much of the conversation, and refers to this as " one of the most remarkable incidents of Johnson's life." His majesty asked if he was then writing anything. He answered, he was not, for he had pretty well told the world what he knew, and must now read to acquire more knowledge. The king then said, " I do not think that you borrow much from anybody," as if urging him to give more of his own original thoughts to the world. John- son said he thought he had already done his part as a writer. "I should have thought so, too," said the king, " if you had not written so well." Johnson told Boswell that "no man could have paid a handsomer compli- ment, and it was fit for a king to pay. It was decisive." When asked by t8 %}0ct0v g-olyn&on* another friend, at Sir Joshua Reynolds', whether he made any reply to this high compliment, he answered, " No, sir. When the king had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy civilities with my sovereign." After the king withdrew, Johnson showed himself highly pleased with his majesty's conversation and gracious behaviour. He said to Dr. Barnard, " Sir, they may talk of the king as they will ; but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen." And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, " Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentle- man as we may suppose Lewis the Fourteenth or Charles the Second." Johnson spoke to the king with pro- found respect, but in his usual manly,, independent manner. When Gold- smith heard of it he said to Johnson,. " Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation better than I should have done; for I should have bowed and stammered through the whole of it ! n gifb mtfc iptortaf* 19 While Johnson could suit his con- versation to all minds, from king to servant, or from philosopher to peasant, his freest utterances were among his congenial and appreciative companions at the club. In these social gatherings he found his chief recreation and plea- sure. To relieve the monotony of his labour when preparing the Dictionary, he joined some friends in establishing a club, which met in the evening for literary conversation and discussion. They met at the King's Head, in Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row. The members associated with him in this little society included Dr. Bathurst, Dr. Hawkes- worth, Sir John Hawkins, and others of various callings and professions. This was the precursor of the more famous " Literary Club," which in later years was founded by Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds, and which flou- rishes to our own day, although under conditions widely different from the homelier usages of older times. The g)xxctJ r>J oj oj «nJ r\J <^ 4 r\J «^ r^ <^ nJt oj r\A <\* ALTHOUGH the works of Dr. Johnson are now little read, and their former reputation may have been somewhat ex- aggerated, we must regret the compara- tive neglect to which they have been consigned. They are the productions of a powerful and generous mind, and they have excellences, both of thought and expression, in which the lighter literature of our time is generally de- ficient. With all their faults of style, 34 Qactcv gLoljn&on. the prose writings have a force and felicity of diction, rising often to noblest eloquence. And as to his poems, the words of one well qualified to judge, William Cowper, describe them now as when written in his epitaph — Whose verse may claim, grave, masculine, and strong, Superior praise to the mere poet's song. The first literary work undertaken by him by choice not from necessity, was his poem " London," in imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal. It was pub- lished anonymously. The remarkable ability of this poem was at once and uni- versally recognized. The veteran poet and satirist, Pope, was delighted, and he showed nothing of the meanness of jealousy with which he has sometimes been charged. Failing to ascertain the name of the new writer, he said that whoever he was he must soon be deterr'e ; he could not long remain con- cealed. Within a week a second edi- tion was called for. The poem breathes the spirit of manly independence, with patriotic affection for his native land, in spite of the abounding faults and follies which he satirized. There were touches, too, of personal feeling, as in the lines descriptive of his own posi- tion and aspirations — This mournful truth is everywhere confessed, Slow rises worth, by poverty oppressed ! " London " appeared in May, 1738. On this, and on his second poem of the same kind, " The Vanity of Human Wishes," an imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, his place among the classic poets of England mainly depends. In the tragedy of " Irene " are some noble sentiments and passages of stately blank verse ; but neither this nor any of his minor poems have retained popularity. No change of public taste, however, can alter the verdict as to " The Vanity of Human Wishes." " It is a grand poem," said Byron, "and so true ! true as the Tenth of Juvenal himself." Some of the instances of 36 Q&ct0v gjtoljn#xm« "the mirage of life," such as that of the warrior, Charles XII. of Sweden, are as highly finished pictures as poet ever drew. Very noble, too, is the conclu- sion of the poem, which shows where human wishes can alone find a satisfy- ing portion, and true happiness be found — Implore His aid, in His decisions rest, Secure whate'er He gives, He gives the best. Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the sky aspires. Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient passions, and a will resigned ; For love, which scarce collective man can fill ; For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted will ; For faith which, panting for a happier seat, Counts death kind nature's signal for retreat ; These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain, These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain ; With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find. The best of the prose works are 11 The Lives of the Poets," the " Preface to Shakespeare," the " Journey to the Hebrides," and " Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia." In all his other writings, notably in the "Rambler," are pieces of remarkable power or elegance, and some of the now forgotten essays and articles on miscellaneous subjects are worthy of permanent place in any col- lection of the "Beauties of English Literature." Few, however, find time for the perusal of older authorship amidst the multitude of modern works flowing incessantly from the press. The student and scholar alone take the trouble to read what Dr. Johnson wrote, and all who do will be amply rewarded for their pains. To a genera- tion which knows not Dr. Johnson, a few passages may serve to show the spirit and the style of his prose works. Let us begin with some which are familiar, because often quoted or re- ferred to, though not more striking or characteristic than others that remain unnoted. Who knows not the reflec- tions on landing at Iona? of which Boswell says, " Had our tour produced nothing else but this sublime passage, 38 factor g0\$n#0tt. the world must have acknowledged that it was not made in vain." Sir Joseph Banks, the President of the Royal Society, was so much struck on reading it, that he clasped his hands together, and remained for some time in an atti- tude of silent admiration. Thousands have read the words with sympathetic emotion amidst the scenes described. "We were now treading that illus- trious island which was once the lumi- nary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians de- rived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and my friends be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indiner- ent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. The man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force on the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona." Scarcely less striking in thought and rhythmic in language is the close of his Preface to Shakespeare. For a critical edition of the plays he lacked the necessary special learning and know- ledge, but not one of all the learned critics approaches Johnson in his gen- eral estimate and description of the great dramatic poet. " Shakespeare is, above all writers — at least, above all modern writers — the poet of nature ; the poet that holds up to his readers a faithful mirror of man- ners and of life. His characters are not modified by the customs of particular places, unpractised by the rest of the world; by the peculiarities of studies or professions which can operate but upon 40 Qvctov gjLjcrJjnaun* small numbers ; or by the accidents of transient fashions or temporary opin- ions: they are the genuine progeny of common humanity, such as the world will always supply, and observation will always find. His persons act and speak by the influence of those general pas- sions and principles by which all minds are agitated, and the whole system of life is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual; in those of Shake- speare it is commonly a species. "It is from this wide extension of design that so much instruction is derived. It is this which fills the plays of Shakespeare with practical axioms and domestic wisdom As his personages act upon principles arising from genuine passion, very little modi- fied by particular forms, their pleasures and vexations are communicable to all times and to all places ; they are natural, and therefore durable. The adventitious peculiarities of personal habits are only superficial dyes, bright and pleasing for a little while, yet soon fading to a dim tint, without any remains of former lustre ; but the dis- criminations of true passion are the colours of nature; they pervade the whole mass, and can only perish with the body that exhibits them. The accidental compositions of heterogene- ous modes are dissolved by the chance which combined them; but the uniform simplicity of primitive qualities neither admits increase nor suffers decay. The sand heaped by one flood is scattered by another; but the rock always continues in its place. The stream of time, which is continually washing the dissoluble fabrics of other poets, passes without injury the adamant of Shakespeare." As illustrating the wise and practical tone of his moral sentiments, a good specimen may be found in his picture of the miseries of war. "It is wonderful with what coolness and indifference the greater part of 42 *$0ctov gl&\$n#0%x. mankind see war commenced. Those that hear of it at a distance, or read of it in books, but have never presented its evils to their minds, consider it little more than a splendid game, a proclama- tion, an army, a battle, and a triumph. Some, indeed, must perish in the suc- cessful field, but they die upon the bed of honour, resign their lives amidst the joys of conquest, and, filled with Eng- land's glory, smile in death ! "The life of a modern soldier is ill represented by heroic fiction. War has means of destruction more terrible than the cannon or the sword. Of the thousands and ten thousands that perished in our late contests with France and Spain, a very small part ever felt the stroke of an enemy ; the rest languished in tents and ships, amidst damps and putrefaction; pale, torpid, spiritless, and helpless; gasping and groaning, unpitied among men, made obdurate by long continuance of hopeless misery; and were at last £\fc anh %$0vk#. 43 whelmed in pits, or heaved into the ocean, without notice and without remembrance. By incommodious en- campments and unwholesome stations, where courage is useless and enterprise impracticable, fleets are silently dis- peopled, and armies sluggishly melted away. "Thus is a people gradually ex- hausted, for the most part with little effect. The wars of civilized nations make very few changes in the system of empire. The public perceives scarcely any alteration but an increase of debt ; and the few individuals who are bene- fited are not supposed to have the clearest right to their advantages. If he that shared the danger enjoyed the profit, and after bleeding in battle grew rich by victory, he might show his gains without envy. But at the conclusion of a ten years' war, how are we recompensed for the death of multitudes and the expense of millions, but by contemplating the sudden glories 44 Q#ct0v Q0\jn#0n. of paymasters and agents, contractors and commissaries, whose equipages shine like meteors, and whose palaces rise like exhalations ! " The best and wisest statesmen of all times have ever been advocates of peace, and the most distinguished soldiers of our own country, such as the Duke of Wellington and Sir Charles Napier, have spoken and written as strongly about the evils and miseries of war. Would that the sentiments expressed by Dr. Johnson were laid to heart by the writers in the public press, who in our day influence as well express the voice of public opinion in this matter ! The famous letter to Lord Chester- field on the publication of the Diction- ary is too well known to be quoted here, and we give but the closing sentences of it: "The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind j but it has been delayed till I am Stfe an** %$0vh#. 45 indifferent, and cannot enjoy it ; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it ; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron which Provi- dence has enabled me to do for myself. " Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed if I should conclude it, if less be pos- sible, with less ; for I have been long awakened from that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation." The Preface to the Dictionary is itself one of the noblest pieces that Johnson ever wrote, and some of its personal allusions are so touching that few can withhold the warmest sympathy and affection for the writer. Home Tooke said he never could read it without tears. 46 gJtfjetov gjLx4jn£i|)(|)(|)^i|)(|)wwi<|>wwi|i OF the moral and religious side of Johnson's life and writings it is fitting that something should here be said. His mother (Sarah Ford was her maiden name) was a woman of much shrewd- ness and good sense, and her piety was not inferior to her understanding. By her Samuel was early trained in truth and virtue, and from her he obtained his first lessons of religious faith and duty. He tells us that these early im~ $ife an** tyflovk*. 57 pressions were not very durable ; but, when at Oxford, as he records, he was diligent in the study of Scripture and of religious books. " I took up * Law's Serious Call to a Holy Life,' " he says, "expecting to find it a dull book, as such books generally are, and perhaps to laugh at it. But I found Law quite an over-match for me ; and this was the first occasion of my thinking in ear- nest of religion, after I became capable of rational inquiry." The solemnity of feeling in regard to religious subjects he never afterwards lost, although he himself confessed that he allowed other pursuits too much to engross his thoughts, and often lamented that his practice of Christian duties fell far short of what it ought to be. His pro- fession as a man of letters and dramatic critic sometimes brought him into dangerous associations. Poverty had also brought him in contact with strange and not always reputable com- panions, as with Savage; but nothing 58 Q&ctov &oljtx&cm+ has ever truthfully been said against his own purity of life or honourable conduct. His own strong and honest intellect, with the study of the Chris- tian evidences, led him to fixed and firm conviction of the truths of revela- tion, and the main doctrines of the Christian creed. His devotions, his charities, the whole course of his life and tone of his character, attested the sincerity and strength of his belief. He attended church with much regularity, and partook of the sacrament with humble devotion. A volume of pri- vate prayer and meditation was pub- lished after his death, with notes of his thoughts and feelings, his confessions and resolves — notes never intended to see the light — and these give proof of his earnest desire throughout his life to live in communion with his Heavenly Father, and to mould his will to the spirit of his Saviour and Master. This devout frame of mind consecrated all his studies and labours. When he, giftf atxb ty$0vh&. 59 alone and unaided, commenced the publication of the " Rambler," he com- posed and offered earnestly at the throne of grace the following prayer : " Almighty God, the Giver of all good things, without whose help all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly : grant, I beseech Thee, that in this undertaking Thy Holy Spirit may not be withheld from me, but that I may promote Thy glory and the salvation of myself and others. Grant this, O Lord, for the sake of Thy Son, Jesus Christ. — Amen." Truly a noble resolve and admirable prayer in regard to literary as to all other work. In another of his prayers we find him pleading for grace to enable him " to use such diligence in lawful em- ployment as may enable me to support myself and do good to others. O Lord, forgive me the time lost in idle- ness; pardon the sins which I have committed, and grant that I may re- deem the time misspent, and be recon- 60 Qactixv Q0\yn#0tx. ciled to Thee, in true repentance, that I may live and die in peace, and be received to everlasting happiness. Take not from me, O Lord, Thy Holy Spirit, but let me have support and comfort, for Jesus Christ's sake. — Amen." Very solemn and touching are the Prayers and Meditations on various oc- casions, always the outpourings of a pious and devout spirit. Of these posthu- mous devotional pieces, Dr. Parr said, "He that possesses both integrity of principle and tenderness of feeling — he that admires virtue and reveres religion — he that glows with love of mankind, and reposes his trust in God, will him- self become a wiser and better man from contemplating those thoughts which passed in the mind of one of the wisest and best of men, when he com- muned with his own heart, and poured forth his supplications before the throne of Heaven for mercy and for grace." While such was the general tone of Dr. Johnson's mind as to religion, and &tf* <*ttfcr %$0vk#. while he stood forth, in a frivolous and sceptical age, as a foremost defender of the faith, there was one element lack- ing in his Christian life and experience. He had the solemnity and godly fear without the peace and joy of a believer. Of death itself he had no terror, but the dread of what follows death often op- pressed his spirit. In his last visit to Oxford, at the house of his old tutor, Dr. Adams, of Pembroke, he surprised his friends by a solemn declaration of his fear for the future. " I cannot be sure," he said on another occasion, "that I have fulfilled the conditions on which salvation is granted ; I am afraid I may be one of those who shall be condemned." He never could feel sure that he had done enough for the salvation of his soul. Even in that memorable Uttoxeter scene in his old age, when he stood bareheaded in the market-place to make atonement for an act of disobedience in his youth, while the tenderness of conscience is 62 QjQctov gtojjntfxro* admired, it is painful to find that he was ruled by what theologians call " the spirit of legality." " I hope," he says, "the penance was expiatory." All through his life the same spirit of self- righteousness runs, the notion of salva- tion being by works, in some form or other, instead of the evangelical doc- trine which Luther had so fully ex- pounded, and in his own bright active Christian life so nobly manifested, the doctrine of free salvation by grace, through faith. Lacking this truth, Johnson lacked the one thing which could give him real peace, to wit, true faith, or personal trust in the Saviour. Lacking this, he was one of those who, in Pauline phrase, "through fear of death are all their lifetime subject to bondage." But the light and the freedom came at last. It was this which Cowper re- ferred to in that epitaph which is one of the finest tributes ever paid to John- son's memory : Who many a noble gift from Heaven pos- sessed, And Faith at last, alone worth all the rest. He did not refer to intellectual belief, but to the faith which brings peace and joy. Dr. Brocklesby, his physician, a man who will not be suspected of fanaticism, told Boswell that "for some time be- fore his death all his fears were calmed and absorbed by the prevalence of his faith, and his trust in the merits and propitiation of Jesus Christ. He talked often to me about the necessity of faith in the sacrifice of Jesus, as necessary beyond all good works whatever for the salvation of mankind." A few days before his death he said to Brocklesby, who was alone with him, " Doctor, you are a worthy man, but I am afraid you are not a Christian ! What can I do better for you than offer up in your presence a prayer to the great God that you may become a Christian in my sense of the word ? " Instantly he 64 Qactciv &0bn&0ti. knelt and put up a fervent prayer. When he got up he caught hold of his friend's hand with great eagerness, cry- ing, " Doctor, you do not say Amen ! " The doctor looked confused, but after a pause said " Amen." Johnson said, " My dear doctor, believe a dying man, there is no salvation but in the sacrifice of the Lamb of God." Other remark- able incidents and sayings are recorded, but enough has been mentioned to prove that a great change had passed over him during these latter days and weeks of his life. From other records of the last illness we learn that it was through conversa- tion with Mr. Latrobe, the Moravian bishop, for whom Johnson had the highest regard, and through letters received from a good clergyman, Mr. Winstanley, that he was led to embrace "evangelical" views as to acceptance with God, the views expressed in such Divine words as these, " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be gifb anb iptotrk** 65 saved;" "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life." Receiving these truths, no wonder that his end was peace, and that he could say "the bitterness of death is past." He did not take to his bed till the day before he passed away, De- cember 13, 1784. Till within the last few hours his mind was clear, and his latest words were words of faith and love, of kindness and blessings. If Johnson had received the gospel in its freeness and fulness at an early period of his life, as Luther did, it would have been well for his personal peace and happiness. Whether his life would have been more useful to the world and the Church, it is vain now to conjecture. As a defender of revealed truth against the assaults of scoffers and infidels he rendered services for which he was fitted by his great intellect and learning. It was said not long since by Mr. Gladstone, that Johnson did more for the Church and State in 66 jp^jctov gtolru#*m. England during the eighteenth century than all the statesmen and bishops that it produced. However this may be, there is no part of his biography that can be viewed with the same satisfac- tion as the closing scene, of which his friend Hannah More said, in the words Shakespeare, that "no action of his life became him like the leaving it." In the collected works of Dr. John- son, and in an appendix to Murray's edition of Boswell's Life, a complete chronological list is given of all the writings known to the public. The list fills many pages, and it is probable that many minor miscellaneous pieces are not included. The following are the dates at which his most important works appeared: "London, a Poem," in 1738; "The Vanity of Human Wishes, a Poem," in 1749; "The Rambler," 1749- 1752; "The English Dictionary," 1754; "Rasselas," 1759; "The Lives of the Poets," 1777. He received his govern- ment pension of ^300 a year in 1762. Sife cxnfcr ^j&vvk*. 67 His first introduction to Boswell was in 1763, and his acquaintance with the Thrales commenced shortly after. He died December 13, 1784. In now proceeding to give a selection from Johnson's Table Talk, we are reminded of his words with regard to Shakespeare : " His real power is not shown in the splendour of particular passages; and he that tries to recom- mend him by select quotations will succeed like the pedant in Hierocles, who, when he offered his house to sale, carried a brick in his pocket as a specimen." But there is another way of regarding such selections ; they may lead the reader to the larger works from which they are gathered, and so induce him to explore the mines from which such gems have been extracted. COWPER'S EPITAPH ON DOCTOR JOHNSON. " Here Johnson lies — a sage, by all allowed, Whom to have bred may well make England proud : Whose prose was eloquence by wisdom taught, The graceful vehicle of virtuous thought ; Whose verse may claim, grave, masculine, and strong, Superior praise to the mere poet's song ; Who many a noble gift from Heaven possess'd, And faith at last— alone worth all the rest. Oh ! man immortal by a double prize, On earth by fame, by favour in the skies I" TABLE TALK. LONDON. TALKING with Boswell about London, Johnson said, "Sir, if you wish to have a just notion of the magnitude of this city, you must not be satisfied with seeing its great streets and squares, but must survey the innumerable little lanes and courts. It is not in the showy evolutions of buildings, but in the multiplicity of human habitations which are crowded together that the wonderful immensity of London con- 72 g)t% gttfljtttftftt* sists." What would he have said of the London of to-day ? * * * Talking of London life, he said, "The happiness of London is not to be conceived but by those who have been in it. I will venture to say, there is more learning and science within the circuit of ten miles from where we now sit than in all the rest of the kingdom." Boswell : "The only dis- advantage is the great distance at which people live from one another." Johnson : " Yes, sir ; but that is oc- casioned by the largeness of it, which is the cause of all the other advan- tages." On another occasion he said that "a man stored his mind better there than anywhere else ; and that in remote situations a man's body might be feasted, but his mind was starved, and his faculties apt to degenerate from want of exercise and competition. No place, he said, cured a man's vanity or arrogance so well as London ; for as no man was either great or good per se, but as compared with others not so good or great, he was sure to find in the metropolis many his equals and some his superiors." It being remarked that one might grow tired of London, and lose the exquisite zest with which occasional visits are relished, Johnson said, "Why, sir, you find no man at al intellectual who is willing to leave London. No, sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life ; for there is in London all that life can afford." * * He said also, " There is no place where economy can be so well practised as in London ; more can be had for the money, even by the ladies, than 4 74 *I\0rt0v gjLtfljnawt* anywhere else. You cannot play tricks with your fortune in a small place ; you must make a uniform appearance. Here a lady may have well-furnished apartments, and elegant dress, without any meat in the kitchen." Walking to church at St Clement Danes, Boswell remarked that Fleet Street was the most cheerful scene in the world, more delighful than the Vale of Tempe. " Ay, sir," responded Johnson ; " but let it be compared with Mull ! " To a similar remark on another occasion Johnson replied, "Yes, sir, Fleet Street has a very animated appearance ; but I think the full tide of human existence is at Charing Cross." gg9E^9E^Sg§B9ES§BSS^§eS SCOTLAND AND SCOTCH- MEN. JOHNSON'S prejudice against Scotland and Scotchmen is one of the most amusing traits in his character. Much of his banter- ing on the subject arose out of his love of teasing Boswell ; but he showed his dislike long before he met his bio- grapher. At the very first interview the silly Boswell exposed himself to ridicule. It was in the back parlour of the shop of Davies the bookseller ; who, on seeing Johnson coming in, said he would introduce Boswell, who was drinking tea with Davies and his wife. 76 gltfcttftr §i0lj%%#0tt* 11 Don't tell him where I come from," said Bos well. " Mr. Boswell, from Scotland," said Davies, roguishly. "Mr. Johnson," said Boswell, in apologetic tone ; ** I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it." It was an unlucky speech, although intended to be conciliatory and sub- missive. " That, sir," said Johnson, who took the Scotticism as meaning that he had left his native country, not that he merely belonged to it by birth ; " that, sir, I find, is what a great many of your countrymen cannot help ! " * * Not long afterwards Boswell enter- tained Johnson at the Mitre Tavern, and had among his guests Mr. Ogilvie, a fellow-Scotchman, who had written a poem. He asked Johnson's per- mission to introduce him. "Certainly," said the Doctor, with sly pleasantry adding, "but he must give us none Mr. Boswell, from Scotland." — Page 76. f&able ®alk* 77 of his poetry." Ogilvie was unlucky enough to choose for his topic of con- versation the praises of his native land. He thought he was safe in saying that Scotland had a great many noble, wild prospects. "I believe, sir," said Johnson, "you have a great many. Norway, too, has noble, wild prospects ; and Lapland is remarkable for pro- digious noble, wild prospects. But, sir, let me tell you, the noblest prospect which a Scotchman can see is the high road that leads him to England," a sally which set all the company in a roar. * * Of the learning of Scotland he had little opinion. "Their learning," he said, " is like bread in a besieged town; every man gets a little, but no man gets a full meal. There is in Scotland a diffusion of learning, a cer- tain portion of it widely and thinly spread. A merchant has as much learn- ing as one of their clergy. 78 Qoctov gtol}n#tr tfcr 'xlir t*t o^ a*i/ 3p/ o^ vqjb >^tx j:*^ &fc jsj^ j6(£ JOHNSON AND WILKES. THIS community of feeling' seemed to draw Johnson and Wilkes the nearer, for they had already had some interest- ing conversation during the evening. Alderman Lee having uttered the loyally pathetic plaint, "Poor old England is lost ! " Johnson said, " Sir, it is not so much to be lamented that old England is lost, as that the Scotch have found it," a sly allusion to the North Briton controversy in which Wilkes figured so conspicuously. " Had ©rtbU ©rtlh* 81 Lord Bute," said Wilkes, u governed Scotland only I should not have taken the trouble to write his eulogy." It was after this event that Johnson said how much he had enjoyed Mr. Wilkes' company. * * On a subsequent occasion Johnson and Wilkes again met at the dinner table of Mr. Dilly. The subject of Scotland again gave cause for merri- ment, chiefly at the expense of Boswell and Dr. Beattie of Aberdeen, author of * The Minstrel." Boswell was asked how much an advocate could make at the Scottish bar. He answered, about ^2000. Wilkes asked, " How can it be possible to spend that money in Scotland ? " On which Johnson inter- posed with what he said was a harder question, "If one man in Scotland gets possession of ^2000, what could remain for the rest of the nation?" Wilkes said, "You know in the last war the immense booty which Thurot 4* 82 Qactav gjLj0i}n#jcm + carried off by the complete plunder of seven Scotch isles; he re-embarked with three and sixpence ! " All this seems now rather small talk, but the simplicity of Boswell in putting this raillery on record is highly amus- ing. The same may be said about the familiar jokes as to oats being the food of horses in England and of men in Scotland; the loss of Johnson's stick in the Isle of Mull past all recovering, "considering the value of such a piece of timber there ; " and many such jests, in spite of all which every Scotchman delights in Johnson's Scottish Tour. ■Jfx. ••Jv sf\. Jjv Jfc. Jjx. ^\. ^^- ^>. .yjv .yjv v^. vp. Jfr* ■sfc- *&• -*V* '*fc -'T*- LUXURY HAS BENEFITS. AT ANY cry out against the evil of luxury. Now, the truth is that luxury produces much good. A man gives half a guinea for a dish of green peas. How much gardening does this occasion ? How many labourers must the competition to have such things early in the market keep in employ- ment ? You will hear it said gravely, "Why was not the half-guinea, thus spent in luxury, given to the poor? To how many might it have afforded a good meal ? " Alas ! has it not gone to the industrious poor, whom it is better to support than the idle poor. You are much surer that you are doing 84 Ipcu'totr gtolju^mt* good when you pay money to those who work, as the recompense of their labour, than when you give money merely in charity. GRATIFICATION AT SEEING ONE'S WORKS. YVTHEN viewing Keddlestone, the seat of Lord Scarsdale, during his Derbyshire tour, the Doctor espied the small edition of the Dictionary in his lordship's dressing-room. He showed it to Bos well with some eagerness, saying, " Look ye, Quce regio in terris no sir i non plena laboris ? " Observing also Goldsmith's " Animated Nature," he said, " Here's our friend ! The poor doctor would have been happy to bear of this!" GOLDSMITH'S WISH FOR NEW MEM- BERS AT THE CLUB. /^OLD^MITH once said that he ^"^ wished they had some new mem- bers at the Club to give variety, " for," l&abU ©rtlk* 85 said he, " there can be nothing new among us, we have travelled over one another's minds." Johnson seemed a little angry, and said, " Sir, you have not travelled over my mind, I promise you." Sir Joshua, however, thought Goldsmith was right, as when people are much together they usually know what each will say on every ordinary subject of conversation. DR. YOUNG OF THE NIGHT THOUGHTS. '""THE admiration of Young and John- son was mutual and warm. Young said of Rasselas that the book was "one mass of good sense." Johnson said of the " Night Thoughts " that it " exhibited a very wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflection and striking allusions," and that it was " one of the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhyme but with disadvantage." 86 Qoctov gcftynxon. WORKS OF FICTION. CPEAKING of the sameness in writers of novels he said, "There is very small quantity of real fiction in the world ; and the same images, with very little variation, have served all the authors who have ever written." *$? RICHARD BAXTER. TI> OS WELL asked what works of Baxter he should read. He said, " Read any of them ; they are all good." ^ A MEDICAL FOP. A FOPPISH physician once re- minded Johnson of his having been in company with him on a former occasion. "I do not remember it, sir." The physician still insisted, adding that he that day wore so fine a coat that it must have attracted his notice. "Sir," said Johnson, "had you been dipped in Pactolus, I should not have noticed you." FINE COATS. HPHE mention of a fine coat by the medical fop recals the strange costumes fashionable in those days. The first time Johnson met Wilkes, at a dinner party given by Mr. Dilly the bookseller, while the guests were as- sembling Johnson asked, " Who is that with the lace coat ?" It was Jack Wilkes, who usually assumed the garb and airs of " a fine gentleman." When Goldsmith once got some money his first purchase was a gay plum-coloured coat! CLASSICAL QUOTATIONS. '""THE subject of quoting well-known authors being introduced, Wilkes censured it as pedantry. Johnson said, " No, sir ; it is a good thing ; there is a community of mind in it. Classical quotation is the parole of literary men all over the world." 88 Hri*xcti?v gi0l)%x&0tu PLACES FOR WORSHIP. HPALKING of devotion he said, * "Though it be true that 'God dwelleth not in a temple made with hands,' yet in this state of being our minds are more piously affected in places appropriated to divine worship than in other places. Some people have a particular room in their houses where they say their prayers ; of which I do not disapprove, as it may animate their devotion." HUME'S ARGUMENT AGAINST MIRACLES. T^ALKING of Johnson's unwilling- ness to believe extraordinary things, or things contrary to the ordinary course of nature, Boswell said, " Sir, you come very near Hume's argument against miracles; that it is more probable witnesses should be deceived or lie than that miracles should happen." Johnson said, "Why, sir, Hume, taking the propo- sition simply, is right. But a Christian ©able fKallx. 89 revelation is not proved by miracles alone, but as connected with the prophecies, and with the doctrines in confirmation of which miracles were wrought." JOHNSON'S OPINION OF HUME. ID OS WELL having mentioned that he was much shocked by David Hume persisting in his infidelity when he was dying, Johnson said, "Why should it shock you, sir ? Hume owned he had never read the New Testament with attention. Here then was a man who had been at no pains to inquire into the truth of religion, and had con- tinually turned his mind the other way. It was not to be expected that the pros- pect of death would alter his way of thinking, unless God should send an angel to set him right." Boswell said he had reason to believe that the thought of annihilation gave Hume no pain. Johnson : " It was not so, sir. He had a vanity in being thought easy. 90 ^0d0V gjtoljlt00tt« It is more probable that he should assume an appearance of ease than so very improbable a thing should be, as a man not afraid of going (as, in spite of his delusive theory, he cannot be sure but he may go) into an unknown state, and not being uneasy." BOLINGBROKE. WfHEN Lord Bolingbroke's post- humous works appeared, edited by David Mallet, Johnson spoke with great indignation of the writer on account of his infidel principles : " Sir, he was a scoundrel and a coward; a scoundrel for charging a blunderbuss against religion and morality ; a coward because he had not resolution to fire it off himself, but left half a crown to a beggarly Scotchman to draw the trigger after his death." «$» THE HEADS ON TEMPLE BAR. T OHNSON and Goldsmith being once together in Westminster Abbey, in f&ablc ®*ik. 9* surveying Poets' Corner, Johnson said, " Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis." " When we got to Temple Bar," says Johnson, " Goldsmith stopped me, pointed to the heads of rebels upon it, and slily whispered me, 'Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis.' " DRINKING AND INTEMPERANCE. TDOSWELL, one of whose failings *-* was love of wine to excess, fre- quently led Johnson to talk on the subject, sometimes with the hope of finding excuse for his own convivial tastes. He generally got severely handled on such occasions. Once he resolutely ventured to defend the habit of indulgence in wine, quoting the phrase in vino Veritas, seeing that a man well warmed with wine will speak truth. "Why, sir," said Johnson, " that may be an argument for drink- ing, if you suppose men in general to be liars. But, sir, I would not keep company with a fellow who lies as long 92 Qoct&v &0tyn&0n. as he his sober, and whom you must make drunk before you can get a word of truth out of him." BEGONE, DULL CARE ! TD OSWELL said that "drinking drives away care, and makes us forget whatever is disagreeable. Would you not allow a man to drink for that reason?" "Yes, sir," said Johnson, " if he sat next to you." Poor Bozzy ! PLEASURE OR HAPPINESS. TEMPERANCE in drinking was the subject of talk one night at the club. Johnson said he did not leave off drinking wine because he could not bear it, he had drank three bottles of port at the university without being the worse for it. "But," he said, "it is better for a man never to lose the power over himself." He was re- minded that he had said that not to drink wine was a deduction from life. ©ctHe ©rtlk* 93 He replied, " It is a diminution of pleasure, to be sure ; but I do not say a diminution of happiness. When we talk of pleasure we mean sensual pleasure. Pleasure, as philosophers tell you, is contrary to happiness. Gross men prefer animal pleasure." TEMPERANCE AND ABSTINENCE. '""TALKING of a man's resolving to deny himself the use of wine from moral and religious considerations, he said, "We must not doubt about it. When one doubts as to pleasure, we know what will be the conclusion. I now no more think of drinking wine than a horse does. The wine upon the table is no more for me than for the dog that is under the table." He said he " had no objection to a man's drinking wine if he can do it in mod- eration. I found myself apt to go to excess in it, and therefore, after having been for some time without it on account of illness, I thought it better not to 94 ^0ctov JjtoJ}n#*n* return to it. Every man is to judge for himself, according to the effects he experiences." Johnson continued his temperate habits — in fact, complete abstinence — till the last, his drink at the club being usually lemonade. LAW AS A PROFESSION. TN conversation about the legal pro- fession in England he said, "You must not indulge in too sanguine hopes should you be called to our bar. I was told by a very sensible lawyer that there are a great many chances against any man's success in the profession of the law ; the candi- dates are so numerous, and those who get practice so few. He said it was by no means true that a man of good parts and application is sure of having business, though he indeed allowed that if such a man could but appear in a few causes, his merit would be known; and he would get forward; but that the ®aMe ®<*lh* 95 great risk was, that a man might pass half a lifetime in the courts, and never have an opportunity of showing his abilities." * * * Sir William Scott, upon the death of Lord Lichfield, Chancellor of the University of Oxford, said to Johnson, " What a pity it is, sir, that you did not follow the profession of the law. You might have been Lord Chancellor of Great Britain, and attained to the dignity of the peerage ; and now that the title of Lichfield, your native city, is extinct, you might have had it." Johnson upon this seemed much agi- tated, and in an angry tone exclaimed, 11 Why will you vex me by suggesting this when it is too late? " This was in 1778, when he was 69. CONVERSATION. PJOR conversation," Johnson said, * " there must, in the first place, be knowledge; there must be materials.: in 9 6 gljociatr |*£rj}rt£*m. the second place, there must be com- mand of words : in the third place, there must be imagination, to place things in such views as they are not commonly seen in ; and in the fourth place, there must be presence of mind, and a resolution that is not to be overcome by failures. This last is an essential requisite ; for want of it many people do not excel in conversa- tion. Now I want it ; I throw up the game upon losing a trick." Boswell remarked, " I don't know, sir, how this may be ; but I am sure you beat other people's cards out of their hands." Johnson did not hear this remark, or, if he did, took no notice of the im- pertinence. * * Though his usual phrase for con- versation was talk) yet he made a distinction, for he once told Boswell that " he had dined the day before at a friend's house, with a very pretty company." Being asked if there was good conversation, he answered, " No, sir ; we had talk enough, but no con- versation; there was nothing discussed" *$? EDMUND BURKE. I_TE said of Burke that "you could not stand five minutes with that man beneath a shed while it rained, but you must be convinced you had been standing with the greatest man you had ever seen." JUNIUS. TPALKING of the wonderful conceal- ment of the author of the cele- brated letters signed Junius, he said, "I should have believed Burke to be Junius, because I know no man but Burke who is capable of writing these letters ; but Burke spontaneously denied it to me. The case would have been different had I asked him if he was the author j a man so questioned, as to an anonymous publication, may think he has a right to deny it," S 98 Qoctav Qoljtt&otx. OCEAN. A GENTLEMAN told Johnson that a friend, looking into the Dic- tionary, could not find the word ocean. "Not find ocean?" said the lexico- grapher, stalking into the library to see if he had possibly made the omission ; and then, rapidly turning the leaves, pointed triumphantly to the word : " There, sir ; there is ocean / But never mind it, sir; perhaps your friend spells ocean with an s" * DR. PARR. A T the first interview of this learned scholar with Dr. Johnson, they got very warm in an argument. The subject was the liberty of the press. " While Johnson was arguing," says Parr, "I observed that he stamped. Upon this I stamped. Dr. Johnson said, ' Why did you stamp, Dr. Parr ? ' I replied, ' Sir, because you stamped ; and I was resolved not to give you the advantage even of a stamp, in the argument. ' '• ©able ®alk. 99 Parr soon showed the highest esteem and veneration for Johnson, and ex- pressed this in many ways. In recom- mending to a friend the study of the posthumous volume of the Doctor's Prayers and Meditations, he described them as " the thoughts which passed through the mind of the wisest and best of men when he communed with his own heart, and poured forth his supplication before the throne of Hea- ven for mercy and for grace." It was Parr who wrote the Latin epitaph re- corded on Johnson's monument in St. Paul's Cathedral. «$» OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. TN Johnson's last illness, he said to 1 his friend Mr. Nicholls, " Take care of your eternal salvation. Re- member to observe the Sabbath. Let it never be a day of business, nor wholly a day of dissipation. Let my words have their due weight. They are the words of a dying man." He ioo gJoctov |jLjc*l}tt# OS WELL was right, so far as the avoidance of what was disagreeable was concerned, if not increase of respect. Johnson was sometimes a sad sloven. At Mrs. Thrale's a footman always had f< a company wig ' ? ready to replace n6 Q0ct&v gjtoJpttittn* the Doctor's rugged and often singed covering, when going to the drawing- room or dining-room. The scene at the Temple, when he lodged there, is a familiar one, the Doctor being ludicrously described as seeing one visitor to her carriage in a miserable dressing-gown and with wig a-wry. But it was from carelessness not from defiance of propriety that these im- proprieties were witnessed. Frank Barber, the black valet, must surely be most to blame for allowing his master to get into such slovenly habits. Of Johnson's sense of propriety as to dress let one instance be given. Goldsmith's last comedy was to be produced, and Mr. Steevens made appointment to call on him and carry him to the tavern where they and other friends of the author were to dine. The Doctor was ready, but in coloured clothes, un- aware or forgetting that it was a time when society was in Court-mourning. Being told that every one would be in ®c*Me ®c*lk* 117 black, he was profusely thankful to Steevens for telling him; hastened to change his attire, and reiterating his gratitude for being prevented from the unseemly appearance which he would have made in the front row of a front box ! " I would not for ten pounds," he added, " have seemed so retrograde to any general observance. " JOHNSON'S COMPANY MANNERS. /^N proper occasions he was rather ^^ scrupulous as to the propriety of dress, and his manners in company were often studiously yet not obtrusively polite. With ladies he was generally a favourite, and his compliments and flatteries were sometimes most happy. At the time that Miss Linley was in her highest fame as a singer, Johnson came in the evening to drink tea with Miss Reynolds, and when he entered the room she said to him, "See, Dr. [ohnson, what a preference I give to n8 gJixduw gjtojjn&cm* your company, for I had an offer of a place in a box at the Oratorio to hear Miss Linley; but I would rather sit with you than hear Miss Linley sing." "And I, madam," replied Johnson, "would rather sit with you than sit upon a throne." He was not to be outdone even in a trifling compliment ! GALLANTRY TO LADIES. •""TO blind Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. Desmoulins, and other ladies of humble position, he always showed the most kind and considerate courtesy and kindness. His reference to Mrs. Williams, in a letter to Mrs. Lucy Porter, the year before his own death, is very touching. Having spoken of the death of Mr. Porter, he says, " Death has likewise visited my mourn- ful habitation. Last month died Mrs. Williams, who had been to me for thirty years in the place of a sister. Her knowledge was great, and her ®abU ®<%lk* "9 conversation pleasing. I now live in cheerless solitude.". This was written from Bolt Court, Nov. 10, 1783. MRS. WILLIAMS. •yOPHAM BEAUCLERK once said * to him, " Doctor, why do you keep that blind woman in your house?" "Why, sir," answered Johnson, "she was a friend of my poor wife, and was in the house with her when she died. And so, sir, as I could not find it in my heart to desire her to quit my house, poor thing ! she has remained in it ever since." ♦ MRS. THRALE. t> OSWELL has preserved many lively *"* sallies of Johnson in conversation with the leading wits and beauties of the time. With Mrs. Thrale he had more tender relations, for he evidently came to regard the bright and lively widow with more than Platonic affection. We 120 Qartov gfvljn&cm. gather this from his letters, and not merely from the disgust which he felt on her marrying the worthy Signor Piozzi, her singing-master. Her vanity having been sufficiently gratified by having the Colossus of literature attached to her for many years, she gradually became less assiduous in pleasing him. He soon saw that his presence at Streatham was no longer welcome, and he bade the place a last farewell, not without feelings of grati- tude, and the expression of pious wishes for the family. When he was actually told of the marriage with Piozzi, he was dumb with surprise for some moments ; at last recovering himself, he exclaimed with emotion, " Varium et mutabile semper fcemina." SECOND MARRIAGES. A/TADAME PIOZZI'S was certainly not one of those second mar- riages which Johnson thought of when he said, in reply to Boswell's remark ©<*bU? ®t*lk* i2i that a widower marrying showed dis- regard of his first wife. " No, sir, not at all. On the contrary, were he not to marry again, it might be concluded that his first wife had given him a dis- gust to marriage ; but by taking a second wife he pays the highest com- pliment to the first, by showing that she made him so happy as a married man that he wishes to be so the second time." This argument, we suppose, would be stronger for a third or fourth marriage ! At least, it applies equally to both widowers and widows. «$» MRS. JOHNSON. JOHNSON'S affection for his own wife was of almost romantic inten- sity, in spite of her being old enough to have been his mother. He seemed to forget all externals of age and form, for his friends saw little to cause such marked attachment ; shown even to his latest life, in his affectionate 6 122 gJxxctov &0\jn&0n. recollections of his " Tetty, " and even his prayers for her, always with the proviso that prayers for the departed were lawful. On one occasion he owned that he had once almost sought a promise from Mrs. Johnson not to marry again, should she survive him ! As Boswell says, "he seems to have wholly overlooked the prior claim of the honest Birmingham trader, Mr. Porter, whose widow she was." SIGNOR PIOZZI. T} ETURNING to Mrs. Piozzi, it is ^ only fair to add that she appears to have been happy with the Italian singer, of whom Anna Seward says, "Johnson did not tell me the truth when he asserted that Piozzi was an ugly dog, without particular skill in his profession. Mr. Piozzi is a handsome man, in middle life, with gentle, pleas- ing, and unaffected manners, and with very eminent skill in his profession. ®t*UU ©itlk* 123 Though he has not a powerful or fine- toned voice, he sings with transcendent grace and expression. Surely the finest sensibilities must vibrate through his frame, since they breath so sweetly through his song ! " «$» THE GAME OF DRAUGHTS. A T college Johnson was very fond of playing at draughts, a game which he said was sufficient to fix the attention without straining it. After beginning the struggle of life, he gave too little time to any such relaxations. When Mr. Payne, brother of the bookseller of that name, published a treatise on draughts, Johnson contributed a Pre- face, and a Dedication to Lord Roch- ford. In this he says, "Triflers may find or make any thing a trifle ; but since it is the great characteristic of a wise man to see events in their causes, to obviate consequences, and ascertain contingencies, your lordship will think nothing a trifle by which the mind is 124 ^octctv fMjttaott* inured to caution, foresight, and cir- cumspection." TEA. CVERY one has heard of Johnson's vast appetite for tea. In his Reply to Jonas Hanway's "Essay on Tea, and its Pernicious Consequences," the Doc- tor describes himself as "a hardened and shameless tea-drinker, who has for many years diluted his meals with only the infusion of this fascinating plant ; whose kettle has scarcely time to cool ; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnight, and with tea welcomes the morning." TO BE CONTINUED. TV/TR. SWINTON, chaplain of the Oxford gaol, a learned but often thoughtless and absent man, preached the "condemnation sermon" one Sun- day on repentance, before some convicts who were to be executed next day. At the close he said he would continue 3£abU ®alk* 125 the subject next Lord's day. One of the company at a dinner when this was mentioned, by way of apology for Mr. Swinton, said he had probably preached the same sermon before the University. "Yes, sir," said Johnson, "but the University were not going to be hanged next morning." MRS. MACAULAY, THE REPUBLICAN HISTORIAN. JOHNSON had a great antipathy to Mrs. Macaulay, daughter of Alderman Sawbridge, and author of a Whig, or rather Republican, history of England under the Stuarts. The book is still worthy of reference, as it contains a very full account of the Long Parliament and of the Common- wealth men. One day at her house, which was a resort of literary persons, Johnson said, " 'Madam, I am now a convert to your way of thinking. I am convinced that all mankind are on an equal footing. To convince you that I 126 Qcctov Q0\jn#0t\. am in earnest, there is your footman, a very sensible, civil, well-behaved fellow- citizen ; I desire that he may be allowed to sit down and dine at table with us.' I thus, sir, showed the absurdity of the levelling doctrine. She has never liked me since. Sir, your levellers wish to level down as far as themselves ; but they cannot bear levelling up to them- selves. PLAYERS. A LTHOUGH Johnson had great ^^ regard for Garrick personally, he often spoke with contempt of his profession. Boswell said, " Surely, sir, we respect a great player as a man who can conceive lofty sentiments and can express them gracefully." yohn- son : "What, sir; a fellow who claps a hump upon his back, and a lump on his leg, and cries, ' I am Richard the Third'? Nay, sir, a ballad singer is a higher man, for he does two things, he repeats and he sings. There is ©able (2£aUt* 127 both recitation and music in his per- formance; the player only recites." Boswell argued that Garrick must have high excellence, as he had made ,£100,000. Johnson: "Is getting ;£ 1 00, 000 a proof of excellence? That has been done by a scoundrel commis- sary." All this was mere talk for arguing sake, for Johnson at other times spoke highly of Garrick's art. Who does not remember the famous words in the "Lives of the Poets," "His death eclipsed the gaiety of nations." When once questioned by Boswell as to the propriety of so strong a eulogy, he said, " I could not have said more or less. It is the truth, eclipsed not extinguished ; and his death did eclipse, it was like a storm." Boswell: " But why nations ? Did his gaiety extend farther than his own nation ? " Johnson : " Why, sir, some exaggeration must be allowed. Besides, nations may be said — if we allow the Scotch to be a nation — to have gaiety i28 Qoctov gMjn# ^ largely on the natural history of the mouse he said, "I wonder what the fellow would have said if he had ever the luck to see a lion ! " * * On another occasion he said, " I am sorry if I vexed the creature, for there is certainly no harm in a fellow's rattling a rattle-box, only don't let him think that he thunders." i54 ^^ct^v gujljranttt* BIOGRAPHY. '""FHERE has perhaps never passed a life of which a judicious and faith- ful narrative would not be useful. For not only every man has, in the mighty mass of the world, great numbers in the same condition with himself, to whom his mistakes and miscarriages, escapes and expedients, would be of immediate and apparent use ; but there is such an uniformity in the state of man, considered apart from adventitious circumstances, that there is scarce any possibility of good or ill but is common to human kind. «$» DULNESS AND PLAINNESS. "P\ULNESS or deformity are not in themselves to be blamed, but may be very justly reproached when they pretend to the honour of wit or the influence of beauty. f&able $£alk» 155 CONVENTS. r ~PHOSE who cannot resist tempta- tion, and find they make them- selves worse by being in the world, without making it better, may retire. . . . But I think putting young people there who know nothing of life, nothing of retirement, is dangerous and wicked. If convents should be allowed at all, they should only be retreats for persons unable to serve the public, or who have served it. * * Johnson said once to the lady abbess of a convent, " Madam, you are here not for the love of virtue, but from the fear of vice," a remark which she said she would remember as long as she lived. 4r FRIENDS OF EARLY AND LATER LIFE. HP HE friends which merit or useful- - L ness can procure us are not able to supply the place of old acquaint- 156 Qoctov |*0jjn*Jttt* ances, with whom the days of youth may be retraced, and those images revived which gave the earliest delight. * * To lose an old friend is to be cut off from a great part of the little pleasure that this life allows. But such is the condition of our nature, that, as we live on, we must see those whom we love drop off successively, and find our circle of relations grow less and less, till we are almost unconnected with the world ; and then it must soon be our turn to drop into the grave. There is always this consolation, that we have one Friend who can never be lost but by our own fault, and every new ex- perience of the uncertainty of other comforts should determine us to fix our hearts where alone true joys are to be found. THE END. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 151 939 6 * Hi ►JK ^^ds&i !| , ;:oi