Life of Johnson

J >> James Boswell >> Life of Johnson


'DEAR SIR, . . . Tell Mrs. Boswell that I shall taste her marmalade
cautiously at first. Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. Beware, says the
Italian proverb, of a reconciled enemy. But when I find it does me no
harm, I shall then receive it and be thankful for it, as a pledge of
firm, and, I hope, of unalterable kindness. She is, after all, a dear,
dear lady. . . .

'I am, dear Sir, your most affectionate humble servant,

'May 3, 1777.'

'SAM. JOHNSON.'


'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'Southill, Sept. 26, 1777.

'DEAR SIR, You will find by this letter, that I am still in the same
calm retreat, from the noise and bustle of London, as when I wrote to
you last. I am happy to find you had such an agreeable meeting with your
old friend Dr. Johnson; I have no doubt your stock is much increased by
the interview; few men, nay I may say, scarcely any man, has got that
fund of knowledge and entertainment as Dr. Johnson in conversation. When
he opens freely, every one is attentive to what he says, and cannot fail
of improvement as well as pleasure.

'The edition of The Poets, now printing, will do honour to the English
press; and a concise account of the life of each authour, by Dr.
Johnson, will be a very valuable addition, and stamp the reputation of
this edition superiour to any thing that is gone before. The first cause
that gave rise to this undertaking, I believe, was owing to the little
trifling edition of The Poets, printing by the Martins, at Edinburgh,
and to be sold by Bell, in London. Upon examining the volumes which were
printed, the type was found so extremely small, that many persons
could not read them; not only this inconvenience attended it, but the
inaccuracy of the press was very conspicuous. These reasons, as well as
the idea of an invasion of what we call our Literary Property, induced
the London Booksellers to print an elegant and accurate edition of all
the English Poets of reputation, from Chaucer to the present time.

'Accordingly a select number of the most respectable booksellers met
on the occasion; and, on consulting together, agreed, that all the
proprietors of copy-right in the various Poets should be summoned
together; and when their opinions were given, to proceed immediately on
the business. Accordingly a meeting was held, consisting of about forty
of the most respectable booksellers of London, when it was agreed
that an elegant and uniform edition of The English Poets should be
immediately printed, with a concise account of the life of each authour,
by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and that three persons should be deputed to
wait upon Dr. Johnson, to solicit him to undertake the Lives, viz., T.
Davies, Strahan, and Cadell. The Doctor very politely undertook it, and
seemed exceedingly pleased with the proposal. As to the terms, it was
left entirely to the Doctor to name his own: he mentioned two hundred
guineas:* it was immediately agreed to; and a farther compliment, I
believe, will be made him. A committee was likewise appointed to engage
the best engravers, viz., Bartolozzi, Sherwin, Hall, etc. Likewise
another committee for giving directions about the paper, printing, etc.,
so that the whole will be conducted with spirit, and in the best manner,
with respect to authourship, editorship, engravings, etc., etc. My
brother will give you a list of the Poets we mean to give, many of which
are within the time of the Act of Queen Anne, which Martin and Bell
cannot give, as they have no property in them; the proprietors are
almost all the booksellers in London, of consequence. I am, dear Sir,
ever your's,

'EDWARD DILLY.'

* Johnson's moderation in demanding so small a sum is
extraordinary. Had he asked one thousand, or even fifteen
hundred guineas, the booksellers, who knew the value of his
name, would doubtless have readily given it. They have
probably got five thousand guineas by this work in the
course of twenty-five years.--MALONE.

A circumstance which could not fail to be very pleasing to Johnson
occurred this year. The Tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, written by
his early companion in London, Richard Savage, was brought out with
alterations at Drury-lane theatre. The Prologue to it was written by Mr.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan; in which, after describing very pathetically
the wretchedness of

'Ill-fated Savage, at whose birth was giv'n
No parent but the Muse, no friend but Heav'n:'

he introduced an elegant compliment to Johnson on his Dictionary, that
wonderful performance which cannot be too often or too highly praised;
of which Mr. Harris, in his Philological Inquiries, justly and liberally
observes: 'Such is its merit, that our language does not possess a
more copious, learned, and valuable work.' The concluding lines of this
Prologue were these:--

'So pleads the tale that gives to future times
The son's misfortunes and the parent's crimes;
There shall his fame (if own'd to-night) survive,
Fix'd by THE HAND THAT BIDS OUR LANGUAGE LIVE.'

Mr. Sheridan here at once did honour to his taste and to his liberality
of sentiment, by shewing that he was not prejudiced from the unlucky
difference which had taken place between his worthy father and Dr.
Johnson. I have already mentioned, that Johnson was very desirous of
reconciliation with old Mr. Sheridan. It will, therefore, not seem at
all surprizing that he was zealous in acknowledging the brilliant
merit of his son. While it had as yet been displayed only in the drama,
Johnson proposed him as a member of THE LITERARY CLUB, observing,
that 'He who has written the two best comedies of his age, is surely a
considerable man.' And he had, accordingly, the honour to be elected;
for an honour it undoubtedly must be allowed to be, when it is
considered of whom that society consists, and that a single black ball
excludes a candidate.

On the 23rd of June, I again wrote to Dr. Johnson, enclosing a
ship-master's receipt for a jar of orange-marmalade, and a large packet
of Lord Hailes's Annals of Scotland.


'DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.

'MADAM,--Though I am well enough pleased with the taste of sweetmeats,
very little of the pleasure which I received at the arrival of your
jar of marmalade arose from eating it. I received it as a token of
friendship, as a proof of reconciliation, things much sweeter than
sweetmeats, and upon this consideration I return you, dear Madam,
my sincerest thanks. By having your kindness I think I have a double
security for the continuance of Mr. Boswell's, which it is not to be
expected that any man can long keep, when the influence of a lady so
highly and so justly valued operates against him. Mr. Boswell will tell
you that I was always faithful to your interest, and always endeavoured
to exalt you in his estimation. You must now do the same for me. We must
all help one another, and you must now consider me, as, dear Madam, your
most obliged, and most humble servant,

'July 22, 1777.'

'SAM. JOHNSON.'


'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,--I am this day come to Ashbourne, and have only to tell
you, that Dr. Taylor says you shall be welcome to him, and you know how
welcome you will be to me. Make haste to let me know when you may be
expected.

'Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and tell her, I hope we shall be
at variance no more. I am, dear Sir, your most humble servant,

'August 30, 1777.'

'SAM. JOHNSON.'


On Sunday evening, Sept. 14, I arrived at Ashbourne, and drove directly
up to Dr. Taylor's door. Dr. Johnson and he appeared before I had got
out of the post-chaise, and welcomed me cordially.

I told them that I had travelled all the preceding night, and gone to
bed at Leek in Staffordshire; and that when I rose to go to church in
the afternoon, I was informed there had been an earthquake, of which,
it seems, the shock had been felt in some degree at Ashbourne. JOHNSON.
'Sir it will be much exaggerated in popular talk: for, in the first
place, the common people do not accurately adapt their thoughts to the
objects; nor, secondly, do they accurately adapt their words to their
thoughts: they do not mean to lie; but, taking no pains to be exact,
they give you very false accounts. A great part of their language is
proverbial. If anything rocks at all, they say it rocks like a cradle;
and in this way they go on.

The subject of grief for the loss of relations and friends being
introduced, I observed that it was strange to consider how soon it
in general wears away. Dr. Taylor mentioned a gentleman of the
neighbourhood as the only instance he had ever known of a person who had
endeavoured to RETAIN grief. He told Dr. Taylor, that after his Lady's
death, which affected him deeply, he RESOLVED that the grief, which he
cherished with a kind of sacred fondness, should be lasting; but that he
found he could not keep it long. JOHNSON. 'All grief for what cannot in
the course of nature be helped, soon wears away; in some sooner, indeed,
in some later; but it never continues very long, unless where there is
madness, such as will make a man have pride so fixed in his mind, as to
imagine himself a King; or any other passion in an unreasonable way: for
all unnecessary grief is unwise, and therefore will not be long retained
by a sound mind. If, indeed, the cause of our grief is occasioned by
our own misconduct, if grief is mingled with remorse of conscience, it
should be lasting.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we do not approve of a man who
very soon forgets the loss of a wife or a friend.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, we
disapprove of him, not because he soon forgets his grief, for the sooner
it is forgotten the better, but because we suppose, that if he forgets
his wife or his friend soon, he has not had much affection for them.'

I was somewhat disappointed in finding that the edition of The English
Poets, for which he was to write Prefaces and Lives, was not an
undertaking directed by him: but that he was to furnish a Preface and
Life to any poet the booksellers pleased. I asked him if he would do
this to any dunce's works, if they should ask him. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir,
and SAY he was a dunce.' My friend seemed now not much to relish talking
of this edition.

After breakfast,* Johnson carried me to see the garden belonging to the
school of Ashbourne, which is very prettily formed upon a bank, rising
gradually behind the house. The Reverend Mr. Langley, the head-master,
accompanied us.

* Next morning.--ED.

We had with us at dinner several of Dr. Taylor's neighbours, good civil
gentlemen, who seemed to understand Dr. Johnson very well, and not to
consider him in the light that a certain person did, who being struck,
or rather stunned by his voice and manner, when he was afterwards asked
what he thought of him, answered. 'He's a tremendous companion.'

Johnson told me, that 'Taylor was a very sensible acute man, and had a
strong mind; that he had great activity in some respects, and yet such
a sort of indolence, that if you should put a pebble upon his
chimney-piece, you would find it there, in the same state, a year
afterwards.'

And here is the proper place to give an account of Johnson's humane
and zealous interference in behalf of the Reverend Dr. William Dodd,
formerly Prebendary of Brecon, and chaplain in ordinary to his Majesty;
celebrated as a very popular preacher, an encourager of charitable
institutions, and authour of a variety of works, chiefly theological.
Having unhappily contracted expensive habits of living, partly
occasioned by licentiousness of manners, he in an evil hour, when
pressed by want of money, and dreading an exposure of his circumstances,
forged a bond of which he attempted to avail himself to support his
credit, flattering himself with hopes that he might be able to repay its
amount without being detected. The person, whose name he thus rashly and
criminally presumed to falsify, was the Earl of Chesterfield, to whom
he had been tutor, and who, he perhaps, in the warmth of his feelings,
flattered himself would have generously paid the money in case of
an alarm being taken, rather than suffer him to fall a victim to the
dreadful consequences of violating the law against forgery, the most
dangerous crime in a commercial country; but the unfortunate divine had
the mortification to find that he was mistaken. His noble pupil appeared
against him, and he was capitally convicted.

Johnson told me that Dr. Dodd was very little acquainted with him,
having been but once in his company, many years previous to this period
(which was precisely the state of my own acquaintance with Dodd); but
in his distress he bethought himself of Johnson's persuasive power of
writing, if haply it might avail to obtain for him the Royal Mercy.
He did not apply to him directly, but, extraordinary as it may seem,
through the late Countess of Harrington, who wrote a letter to Johnson,
asking him to employ his pen in favour of Dodd. Mr. Allen, the printer,
who was Johnson's landlord and next neighbour in Bolt-court, and for
whom he had much kindness, was one of Dodd's friends, of whom to the
credit of humanity be it recorded, that he had many who did not desert
him, even after his infringement of the law had reduced him to the state
of a man under sentence of death. Mr. Allen told me that he carried Lady
Harrington's letter to Johnson, that Johnson read it walking up and down
his chamber, and seemed much agitated, after which he said, 'I will do
what I can;'--and certainly he did make extraordinary exertions.

He this evening, as he had obligingly promised in one of his letters,
put into my hands the whole series of his writings upon this melancholy
occasion.

Dr. Johnson wrote in the first place, Dr. Dodd's Speech to the Recorder
of London, at the Old-Bailey, when sentence of death was about to be
pronounced upon him.

He wrote also The Convict's Address to his unhappy Brethren, a sermon
delivered by Dr. Dodd, in the chapel of Newgate.

The other pieces mentioned by Johnson in the above-mentioned collection,
are two letters, one to the Lord Chancellor Bathurst, (not Lord North,
as is erroneously supposed,) and one to Lord Mansfield;--A Petition
from Dr. Dodd to the King;--A Petition from Mrs. Dodd to the
Queen;--Observations of some length inserted in the news-papers, on
occasion of Earl Percy's having presented to his Majesty a petition for
mercy to Dodd, signed by twenty thousand people, but all in vain. He
told me that he had also written a petition from the city of London;
'but (said he, with a significant smile) they MENDED it.'

The last of these articles which Johnson wrote is Dr. Dodd's last solemn
Declaration, which he left with the sheriff at the place of execution.

I found a letter to Dr. Johnson from Dr. Dodd, May 23, 1777, in which
The Convict's Address seems clearly to be meant.

'I am so penetrated, my ever dear Sir, with a sense of your extreme
benevolence towards me, that I cannot find words equal to the sentiments
of my heart. . . .'

On Sunday, June 22, he writes, begging Dr. Johnson's assistance in
framing a supplicatory letter to his Majesty.

This letter was brought to Dr. Johnson when in church. He stooped down
and read it, and wrote, when he went home, the following letter for Dr.
Dodd to the King:

'SIR,--May it not offend your Majesty, that the most miserable of men
applies himself to your clemency, as his last hope and his last refuge;
that your mercy is most earnestly and humbly implored by a clergyman,
whom your Laws and Judges have condemned to the horrour and ignominy of
a publick execution. . . .'

Subjoined to it was written as follows:--


'TO DR. DODD.

'SIR,--I most seriously enjoin you not to let it be at all known that I
have written this letter, and to return the copy to Mr. Allen in a cover
to me. I hope I need not tell you, that I wish it success.--But do not
indulge hope.--Tell nobody.'

It happened luckily that Mr. Allen was pitched on to assist in this
melancholy office, for he was a great friend of Mr. Akerman, the keeper
of Newgate. Dr. Johnson never went to see Dr. Dodd. He said to me, 'it
would have done HIM more harm, than good to Dodd, who once expressed a
desire to see him, but not earnestly.'

All applications for the Royal Mercy having failed, Dr. Dodd prepared
himself for death; and, with a warmth of gratitude, wrote to Dr. Johnson
as follows:--

'June 25, Midnight.

'Accept, thou GREAT and GOOD heart, my earnest and fervent thanks and
prayers for all thy benevolent and kind efforts in my behalf--Oh! Dr.
Johnson! as I sought your knowledge at an early hour in life, would
to heaven I had cultivated the love and acquaintance of so excellent
a man!--I pray GOD most sincerely to bless you with the highest
transports--the infelt satisfaction of HUMANE and benevolent
exertions!--And admitted, as I trust I shall be, to the realms of bliss
before you, I shall hail YOUR arrival there with transports, and rejoice
to acknowledge that you was my Comforter, my Advocate and my FRIEND! GOD
BE EVER WITH YOU!'


Dr. Johnson lastly wrote to Dr. Dodd this solemn and soothing letter:--


'TO THE REVEREND DR. DODD.

'DEAR SIR,--That which is appointed to all men is now coming upon you.
Outward circumstances, the eyes and the thoughts of men, are below
the notice of an immortal being about to stand the trial for eternity,
before the Supreme Judge of heaven and earth. Be comforted: your crime,
morally or religiously considered, has no very deep dye of turpitude.
It corrupted no man's principles; it attacked no man's life. It involved
only a temporary and reparable injury. Of this, and of all other sins,
you are earnestly to repent; and may GOD, who knoweth our frailty, and
desireth not our death, accept your repentance, for the sake of his SON
JESUS CHRIST our Lord.

'In requital of those well-intended offices which you are pleased so
emphatically to acknowledge, let me beg that you make in your devotions
one petition for my eternal welfare. I am, dear Sir, your affectionate
servant,

'June 26, 1777.'

'SAM. JOHNSON.'


Under the copy of this letter I found written, in Johnson's own hand,
'Next day, June 27, he was executed.'

Tuesday, September 16, Dr. Johnson having mentioned to me the
extraordinary size and price of some cattle reared by Dr. Taylor, I rode
out with our host, surveyed his farm, and was shown one cow which he had
sold for a hundred and twenty guineas, and another for which he had
been offered a hundred and thirty. Taylor thus described to me his old
schoolfellow and friend, Johnson: 'He is a man of a very clear head,
great power of words, and a very gay imagination; but there is no
disputing with him. He will not hear you, and having a louder voice than
you, must roar you down.'

In the evening, the Reverend Mr. Seward, of Lichfield, who was passing
through Ashbourne in his way home, drank tea with us. Johnson described
him thus:--'Sir, his ambition is to be a fine talker; so he goes to
Buxton, and such places, where he may find companies to listen to him.
And, Sir, he is a valetudinarian, one of those who are always mending
themselves. I do not know a more disagreeable character than a
valetudinarian, who thinks he may do any thing that is for his ease, and
indulges himself in the grossest freedoms: Sir, he brings himself to the
state of a hog in a stye.'

Dr. Taylor's nose happening to bleed, he said, it was because he had
omitted to have himself blooded four days after a quarter of a year's
interval. Dr. Johnson, who was a great dabbler in physick, disapproved
much of periodical bleeding. 'For (said he,) you accustom yourself to
an evacuation which Nature cannot perform of herself, and therefore she
cannot help you, should you, from forgetfulness or any other cause,
omit it; so you may be suddenly suffocated. You may accustom yourself to
other periodical evacuations, because should you omit them, Nature can
supply the omission; but Nature cannot open a vein to blood you.'--'I
do not like to take an emetick, (said Taylor,) for fear of breaking some
small vessels.'--'Poh! (said Johnson,) if you have so many things that
will break, you had better break your neck at once, and there's an end
on't. You will break no small vessels:' (blowing with high derision.)

The horrour of death which I had always observed in Dr. Johnson,
appeared strong to-night. I ventured to tell him, that I had been,
for moments in my life, not afraid of death; therefore I could suppose
another man in that state of mind for a considerable space of time. He
said, 'he never had a moment in which death was not terrible to him.' He
added, that it had been observed, that scarce any man dies in publick,
but with apparent resolution; from that desire of praise which never
quits us. I said, Dr. Dodd seemed to be willing to die, and full of
hopes of happiness. 'Sir, (said he,) Dr. Dodd would have given both his
hands and both his legs to have lived. The better a man is, the more
afraid he is of death, having a clearer view of infinite purity.' He
owned, that our being in an unhappy uncertainty as to our salvation, was
mysterious; and said, 'Ah! we must wait till we are in another state of
being, to have many things explained to us.' Even the powerful mind of
Johnson seemed foiled by futurity.

On Wednesday, September 17, Dr. Butter, physician at Derby, drank tea
with us; and it was settled that Dr. Johnson and I should go on Friday
and dine with him. Johnson said, 'I'm glad of this.' He seemed weary of
the uniformity of life at Dr. Taylor's.

Talking of biography, I said, in writing a life, a man's peculiarities
should be mentioned, because they mark his character. JOHNSON. 'Sir,
there is no doubt as to peculiarities: the question is, whether a man's
vices should be mentioned; for instance, whether it should be mentioned
that Addison and Parnell drank too freely: for people will probably more
easily indulge in drinking from knowing this; so that more ill may be
done by the example, than good by telling the whole truth.' Here was an
instance of his varying from himself in talk; for when Lord Hailes and
he sat one morning calmly conversing in my house at Edinburgh, I well
remember that Dr. Johnson maintained, that 'If a man is to write A
Panegyrick, he may keep vices out of sight; but if he professes to write
A Life, he must represent it really as it was:' and when I objected to
the danger of telling that Parnell drank to excess, he said, that 'it
would produce an instructive caution to avoid drinking, when it was
seen, that even the learning and genius of Parnell could be debased by
it.' And in the Hebrides he maintained, as appears from my Journal,
that a man's intimate friend should mention his faults, if he writes his
life.

Thursday, September 18. Last night Dr. Johnson had proposed that the
crystal lustre, or chandelier, in Dr. Taylor's large room, should be
lighted up some time or other. Taylor said, it should be lighted up
next night. 'That will do very well, (said I,) for it is Dr. Johnson's
birth-day.' When we were in the Isle of Sky, Johnson had desired me not
to mention his birth-day. He did not seem pleased at this time that I
mentioned it, and said (somewhat sternly,) 'he would not have the lustre
lighted the next day.'

Some ladies, who had been present yesterday when I mentioned his
birth-day, came to dinner to-day, and plagued him unintentionally,
by wishing him joy. I know not why he disliked having his birth-day
mentioned, unless it were that it reminded him of his approaching nearer
to death, of which he had a constant dread.

I mentioned to him a friend of mine who was formerly gloomy from low
spirits, and much distressed by the fear of death, but was now uniformly
placid, and contemplated his dissolution without any perturbation. 'Sir,
(said Johnson,) this is only a disordered imagination taking a different
turn.'

He observed, that a gentleman of eminence in literature had got into a
bad style of poetry of late. 'He puts (said he,) a very common thing
in a strange dress till he does not know it himself, and thinks other
people do not know it.' BOSWELL. 'That is owing to his being so much
versant in old English poetry.' JOHNSON. 'What is that to the purpose,
Sir? If I say a man is drunk, and you tell me it is owing to his taking
much drink, the matter is not mended. No, Sir, ------ has taken to an
odd mode. For example, he'd write thus:

"Hermit hoar, in solemn cell,
Wearing out life's evening gray."

Gray evening is common enough; but evening gray he'd think
fine.--Stay;--we'll make out the stanza:

"Hermit hoar, in solemn cell,
Wearing out life's evening gray;
Smite thy bosom, sage, and tell,
What is bliss? and which the way?"'

BOSWELL. 'But why smite his bosom, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Why, to shew he
was in earnest,' (smiling.)--He at an after period added the following
stanza:

'Thus I spoke; and speaking sigh'd;
--Scarce repress'd the starting tear;--
When the smiling sage reply'd--
--Come, my lad, and drink some beer.'