in his expectations.
An instance at once of his pensive turn of mind, and his cheerfulness of
temper, appeared in a little story which he himself told to Mr. Langton,
when they were walking in his garden: 'Here (said he) I had put a
handsome sun-dial, with this inscription, _Eheu fugaces!_[206] which
(speaking with a smile) was sadly verified, for by the next morning my
dial had been carried off.'[207]
'It gives me much pleasure to observe, that however Johnson may have
casually talked,[208] yet when he sits, as "an ardent judge zealous to
his trust, giving sentence" [209] upon the excellent works of Young, he
allows them the high praise to which they are justly entitled.
"The _Universal Passion_ (says he) is indeed a very great
performance,--his distichs have the weight of solid sentiment, and his
points the sharpness of resistless truth."'[210]
But I was most anxious concerning Johnson's decision upon _Night
Thoughts_, which I esteem as a mass of the grandest and richest poetry
that human genius has ever produced; and was delighted to find this
character of that work: 'In his _Night Thoughts_, he has exhibited a
very wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflections
and striking allusions; a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility
of fancy scatters flowers of every hue and of every odour. This is one
of the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhime but
with disadvantage.'[211] And afterwards, 'Particular lines are not to be
regarded; the power is in the whole; and in the whole there is a
magnificence like that ascribed to Chinese plantation[212], the
magnificence of vast extent and endless diversity.'
But there is in this Poem not only all that Johnson so well brings in
view, but a power of the _Pathetick_ beyond almost any example that I
have seen. He who does not feel his nerves shaken, and his heart pierced
by many passages in this extraordinary work, particularly by that most
affecting one, which describes the gradual torment suffered by the
contemplation of an object of affectionate attachment, visibly and
certainly decaying into dissolution, must be of a hard and obstinate
frame[213].
To all the other excellencies of _Night Thoughts_ let me add the great
and peculiar one, that they contain not only the noblest sentiments of
virtue, and contemplations on immortality, but the _Christian
Sacrifice_, the _Divine Propitiation_, with all its interesting
circumstances, and consolations to 'a wounded spirit[214],' solemnly and
poetically displayed in such imagery and language, as cannot fail to
exalt, animate, and soothe the truly pious. No book whatever can be
recommended to young persons, with better hopes of seasoning their minds
with _vital religion_, than YOUNG'S _Night Thoughts_.
In the Life of SWIFT, it appears to me that Johnson had a certain degree
of prejudice against that extraordinary man, of which I have elsewhere
had occasion to speak[215]. Mr. Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposed
apprehension in Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active in
obtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited[216], but of
this there was not sufficient evidence; and let me not presume to charge
Johnson with injustice, because he did not think so highly of the
writings of this authour, as I have done from my youth upwards. Yet that
he had an unfavourable bias is evident, were it only from that passage
in which he speaks of Swift's practice of saving, as, 'first ridiculous
and at last detestable;' and yet after some examination of
circumstances, finds himself obliged to own, that 'it will perhaps
appear that he only liked one mode of expence better than another, and
saved merely that he might have something to give[217].'
One observation which Johnson makes in Swift's life should be often
inculcated:--
'It may be justly supposed, that there was in his conversation what
appears so frequently in his letters, an affectation of familiarity with
the great, an ambition of momentary equality, sought and enjoyed by the
neglect of those ceremonies which custom has established as the barriers
between one order of society and another. This transgression of
regularity was by himself and his admirers termed greatness of soul; but
a great mind disdains to hold any thing by courtesy, and therefore never
usurps what a lawful claimant may take away. He that encroaches on
another's dignity puts himself in his power; he is either repelled with
helpless indignity, or endured by clemency and condescension[218].'
_Various Readings in the Life of Swift_.
'Charity may be persuaded to think that it might be written by a man of
_a_ peculiar [opinions] _character_, without ill intention.
He did not [disown] _deny_ it.
'[To] _by_ whose kindness it is not unlikely that he was [indebted for]
_advanced to_ his benefices.
[With] _for_ this purpose he had recourse to Mr. Harley.
Sharpe, whom he [represents] _describes_ as "the harmless tool of
others' hate."
Harley was slow because he was [irresolute] _doubtful_.
When [readers were not many] _we were not yet a nation of readers_.
[Every man who] _he that could say he_ knew him.
Every man of known influence has so many [more] petitions [than] _which_
he [can] _cannot_ grant, that he must necessarily offend more than he
[can gratify] _gratifies_.
Ecclesiastical [preferments] _benefices_.
'Swift [procured] _contrived_ an interview.
[As a writer] _In his works_ he has given very different specimens.
On all common occasions he habitually [assumes] _affects_ a style of
[superiority] _arrogance_.
By the [omission] _neglect_ of those ceremonies.
That their merits filled the world [and] _or that_ there was no [room
for] _hope of_ more.'
I have not confined myself to the order of the _Lives_, in making my few
remarks. Indeed a different order is observed in the original
publication, and in the collection of Johnson's _Works_. And should it
be objected, that many of my various readings are inconsiderable, those
who make the objection will be pleased to consider, that such small
particulars are intended for those who are nicely critical in
composition, to whom they will be an acceptable selection[219].
_Spence's Anecdotes_, which are frequently quoted and referred to in
Johnson's _Lives of the Poets_, are in a manuscript collection, made by
the Reverend Mr. Joseph Spence[220], containing a number of particulars
concerning eminent men. To each anecdote is marked the name of the
person on whose authority it is mentioned. This valuable collection is
the property of the Duke of Newcastle, who upon the application of Sir
Lucas Pepys, was pleased to permit it to be put into the hands of Dr.
Johnson, who I am sorry to think made but an aukward return. 'Great
assistance (says he) has been given me by Mr. Spence's Collection, of
which I consider the communication as a favour worthy of publick
acknowledgement[221];' but he has not owned to whom he was obliged; so
that the acknowledgement is unappropriated to his Grace.
While the world in general was filled with admiration of Johnson's
_Lives of the Poets_, there were narrow circles in which prejudice and
resentment were fostered, and from which attacks of different sorts
issued against him[222]. By some violent Whigs he was arraigned of
injustice to Milton; by some Cambridge men of depreciating Gray; and his
expressing with a dignified freedom what he really thought of George,
Lord Lyttelton, gave offence to some of the friends of that nobleman,
and particularly produced a declaration of war against him from Mrs.
Montagu, the ingenious Essayist on Shakspeare, between whom and his
Lordship a commerce of reciprocal compliments had long been carried
on[223]. In this war the smaller powers in alliance with him were of
course led to engage, at least on the defensive, and thus I for one was
excluded from the enjoyment of 'A Feast of Reason,' such as Mr.
Cumberland has described, with a keen, yet just and delicate pen, in his
_Observer_[224]. These minute inconveniencies gave not the least
disturbance to Johnson. He nobly said, when I talked to him of the
feeble, though shrill outcry which had been raised, 'Sir, I considered
myself as entrusted with a certain portion of truth. I have given my
opinion sincerely; let them shew where they think me wrong[225].'
While my friend is thus contemplated in the splendour derived from his
last and perhaps most admirable work, I introduce him with peculiar
propriety as the correspondent of WARREN HASTINGS! a man whose regard
reflects dignity even upon JOHNSON; a man, the extent of whose abilities
was equal to that of his power; and who, by those who are fortunate
enough to know him in private life, is admired for his literature and
taste, and beloved for the candour, moderation, and mildness of his
character. Were I capable of paying a suitable tribute of admiration to
him, I should certainly not withhold it at a moment[226] when it is not
possible that I should be suspected of being an interested flatterer.
But how weak would be my voice after that of the millions whom he
governed. His condescending and obliging compliance with my
solicitation, I with humble gratitude acknowledge; and while by
publishing his letter to me, accompanying the valuable communication, I
do eminent honour to my great friend, I shall entirely disregard any
invidious suggestions, that as I in some degree participate in the
honour, I have, at the same time, the gratification of my own vanity
in view.
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. Park Lane, Dec. 2, 1790.
SIR,
I have been fortunately spared the troublesome suspense of a long
search, to which, in performance of my promise, I had devoted this
morning, by lighting upon the objects of it among the first papers that
I laid my hands on: my veneration for your great and good friend, Dr.
Johnson, and the pride, or I hope something of a better sentiment, which
I indulged in possessing such memorials of his good will towards me,
having induced me to bind them in a parcel containing other select
papers, and labelled with the titles appertaining to them. They consist
but of three letters, which I believe were all that I ever received from
Dr. Johnson. Of these, one, which was written in quadruplicate, under
the different dates of its respective dispatches, has already been made
publick[227], but not from any communication of mine. This, however, I
have joined to the rest; and have now the pleasure of sending them to
you for the use to which you informed me it was your desire to
destine them.
'My promise was pledged with the condition, that if the letters were
found to contain any thing which should render them improper for the
publick eye, you would dispense with the performance of it. You will
have the goodness, I am sure, to pardon my recalling this stipulation to
your recollection, as I should be both to appear negligent of that
obligation which is always implied in an epistolary confidence. In the
reservation of that right I have read them over with the most scrupulous
attention, but have not seen in them the slightest cause on that ground
to withhold them from you. But, though not on that, yet on another
ground I own I feel a little, yet but a little, reluctance to part with
them: I mean on that of my own credit, which I fear will suffer by the
information conveyed by them, that I was early in the possession of such
valuable instructions for the beneficial employment of the influence of
my late station, and (as it may seem) have so little availed myself of
them. Whether I could, if it were necessary, defend myself against such
an imputation, it little concerns the world to know. I look only to the
effect which these relicks may produce, considered as evidences of the
virtues of their authour: and believing that they will be found to
display an uncommon warmth of private friendship, and a mind ever
attentive to the improvement and extension of useful knowledge, and
solicitous for the interests of mankind, I can cheerfully submit to the
little sacrifice of my own fame, to contribute to the illustration of so
great and venerable a character. They cannot be better applied, for that
end, than by being entrusted to your hands. Allow me, with this
offering, to infer from it a proof of the very great esteem with which I
have the honour to profess myself, Sir,
Your most obedient
And most humble servant,
'WARREN HASTINGS.'
'_P.S_. At some future time, and when you have no further occasion for
these papers, I shall be obliged to you if you would return them.'
The last of the three letters thus graciously put into my hands, and
which has already appeared in publick, belongs to this year; but I shall
previously insert the first two in the order of their dates. They
altogether form a grand group in my biographical picture.
TO THE HONOURABLE WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ.
'SIR,
Though I have had but little personal knowledge of you, I have had
enough to make me wish for more; and though it be now a long time since
I was honoured by your visit, I had too much pleasure from it to forget
it. By those whom we delight to remember, we are unwilling to be
forgotten; and therefore I cannot omit this opportunity of reviving
myself in your memory by a letter which you will receive from the hands
of my friend Mr. Chambers[228]; a man, whose purity of manners and
vigour of mind are sufficient to make every thing welcome that
he brings.
That this is my only reason for writing, will be too apparent by the
uselessness of my letter to any other purpose. I have no questions to
ask; not that I want curiosity after either the ancient or present state
of regions in which have been seen all the power and splendour of
wide-extended empire; and which, as by some grant of natural
superiority, supply the rest of the world with almost all that pride
desires and luxury enjoys. But my knowledge of them is too scanty to
furnish me with proper topicks of enquiry; I can only wish for
information; and hope, that a mind comprehensive like yours will find
leisure, amidst the cares of your important station, to enquire into
many subjects of which the European world either thinks not at all, or
thinks with deficient intelligence and uncertain conjecture. I shall
hope, that he who once intended to increase the learning of his country
by the introduction of the Persian language[229], will examine nicely
the traditions and histories of the East; that he will survey the
wonders of its ancient edifices, and trace the vestiges of its ruined
cities; and that, at his return, we shall know the arts and opinions of
a race of men, from whom very little has been hitherto derived.
You, Sir, have no need of being told by me, how much may be added by
your attention and patronage to experimental knowledge and natural
history. There are arts of manufacture practised in the countries in
which you preside, which are yet very imperfectly known here, either to
artificers or philosophers. Of the natural productions, animate and
inanimate, we yet have so little intelligence, that our books are
filled, I fear, with conjectures about things which an Indian peasant
knows by his senses.
Many of those things my first wish is to see; my second to know, by such
accounts as a man like you will be able to give.
As I have not skill to ask proper questions, I have likewise no such
access to great men as can enable me to send you any political
information. Of the agitations of an unsettled government, and the
struggles of a feeble ministry[230], care is doubtless taken to give you
more exact accounts than I can obtain. If you are inclined to interest
yourself much in publick transactions, it is no misfortune to you to be
so distant from them.
That literature is not totally forsaking us, and that your favourite
language is not neglected, will appear from the book[231], which I
should have pleased myself more with sending, if I could have presented
it bound: but time was wanting. I beg, however, Sir, that you will
accept it from a man very desirous of your regard; and that if you think
me able to gratify you by any thing more important you will employ me.
I am now going to take leave, perhaps a very long leave, of my dear Mr.
Chambers. That he is going to live where you govern, may justly
alleviate the regret of parting; and the hope of seeing both him and you
again, which I am not willing to mingle with doubt, must at present
comfort as it can, Sir, Your most humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON.
March 30, 1774.'
To THE SAME.
'SIR,
Being informed that by the departure of a ship, there is now an
opportunity of writing to Bengal, I am unwilling to slip out of your
memory by my own negligence, and therefore take the liberty of reminding
you of my existence, by sending you a book which is not yet
made publick.
I have lately visited a region less remote, and less illustrious than
India, which afforded some occasions for speculation; what has occurred
to me, I have put into the volume[232], of which I beg your acceptance.
Men in your station seldom have presents totally disinterested; my book
is received, let me now make my request.
There is, Sir, somewhere within your government, a young adventurer, one
Chauncey Lawrence, whose father is one of my oldest friends. Be pleased
to shew the young man what countenance is fit, whether he wants to be
restrained by your authority, or encouraged by your favour. His father
is now President of the College of Physicians, a man venerable for his
knowledge, and more venerable for his virtue[233].
I wish you a prosperous government, a safe return, and a long enjoyment
of plenty and tranquillity.
I am, Sir,
Your most obedient
And most humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON[234].
London, Dec. 20, 1774.'
TO THE SAME.
'Jan. 9, 1781.
Sir,
Amidst the importance and multiplicity of affairs in which your great
office engages you, I take the liberty of recalling your attention for a
moment to literature, and will not prolong the interruption by an
apology which your character makes needless.
Mr. Hoole, a gentleman long known, and long esteemed in the India-House,
after having translated Tasso[235], has undertaken Ariosto. How well he
is qualified for his undertaking he has already shewn. He is desirous,
Sir, of your favour in promoting his proposals, and flatters me by
supposing that my testimony may advance his interest.
It is a new thing for a clerk of the India-House to translate poets;
--it is new for a Governour of Bengal to patronize learning. That he may
find his ingenuity rewarded, and that learning may flourish under your
protection, is the wish of, Sir, Your most humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON.'
I wrote to him in February, complaining of having been troubled by a
recurrence of the perplexing question of Liberty and Necessity;--and
mentioning that I hoped soon to meet him again in London.
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
DEAR SIR,
I hoped you had got rid of all this hypocrisy of misery. What have you
to do with Liberty and Necessity[236]? Or what more than to hold your
tongue about it? Do not doubt but I shall be most heartily glad to see
you here again, for I love every part about you but your affectation
of distress.
I have at last finished my _Lives_, and have laid up for you a load of
copy[237], all out of order, so that it will amuse you a long time to
set it right. Come to me, my dear Bozzy, and let us be as happy as we
can. We will go again to the Mitre, and talk old times over.
I am, dear Sir,
Yours affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
March, 14, 1781.
On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on Tuesday, the 20th, met
him in Fleet-street, walking, or rather indeed moving along; for his
peculiar march is thus described in a very just and picturesque manner,
in a short Life[238] of him published very soon after his death:--'When
he walked the streets, what with the constant roll of his head, and the
concomitant motion of his body, he appeared to make his way by that
motion, independent of his feet.' That he was often much stared at while
he advanced in this manner, may easily be believed; but it was not safe
to make sport of one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one day,
in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load off a porter's
back, and walk forward briskly, without being conscious of what he
had done.
