Life of Johnson

J >> James Boswell >> Life of Johnson


Johnson now thought of trying his fortune in London, the great field of
genius and exertion, where talents of every kind have the fullest scope,
and the highest encouragement. It is a memorable circumstance that his
pupil David Garrick went thither at the same time,* with intention to
complete his education, and follow the profession of the law, from which
he was soon diverted by his decided preference for the stage.

* Both of them used to talk pleasantly of this their first
journey to London. Garrick, evidently meaning to embellish
a little, said one day in my hearing, 'we rode and tied.'
And the Bishop of Killaloe informed me, that at another
time, when Johnson and Garrick were dining together in a
pretty large company, Johnson humorously ascertaining the
chronology of something, expressed himself thus: 'that was
the year when I came to London with two-pence half-penny in
my pocket.' Garrick overhearing him, exclaimed, 'eh? what
do you say? with two-pence half-penny in your pocket?'--
JOHNSON, 'Why yes; when I came with two-pence half-penny in
MY pocket, and thou, Davy, with three half-pence in thine.'
--BOSWELL.

They were recommended to Mr. Colson, an eminent mathematician and master
of an academy, by the following letter from Mr. Walmsley:


'TO THE REVEREND MR. COLSON.

'Lichfield, March 2,1737.

'Dear Sir, I had the favour of yours, and am extremely obliged to you;
but I cannot say I had a greater affection for you upon it than I had
before, being long since so much endeared to you, as well by an early
friendship, as by your many excellent and valuable qualifications; and,
had I a son of my own, it would be my ambition, instead of sending him
to the University, to dispose of him as this young gentleman is.

'He, and another neighbour of mine, one Mr. Samuel Johnson, set out this
morning for London together. Davy Garrick is to be with you early the
next week, and Mr. Johnson to try his fate with a tragedy, and to see to
get himself employed in some translation, either from the Latin or the
French. Johnson is a very good scholar and poet, and I have great hopes
will turn out a fine tragedy-writer. If it should any way lie in your
way, doubt not but you would be ready to recommend and assist your
countryman.

'G. WALMSLEY.'


How he employed himself upon his first coming to London is not
particularly known.'

* One curious anecdote was communicated by himself to Mr.
John Nichols. Mr. Wilcox, the bookseller, on being informed
by him that his intention was to get his livelihood as an
authour, eyed his robust frame attentively, and with a
significant look, said, 'You had better buy a porter's
knot.' He however added, 'Wilcox was one of my best
friends.'--BOSWELL.

He had a little money when he came to town, and he knew how he could
live in the cheapest manner. His first lodgings were at the house of Mr.
Norris, a staymaker, in Exeter-street, adjoining Catharine-street, in
the Strand. 'I dined (said he) very well for eight-pence, with very good
company, at the Pine Apple in New-street, just by. Several of them
had travelled. They expected to meet every day; but did not know one
another's names. It used to cost the rest a shilling, for they drank
wine; but I had a cut of meat for six-pence, and bread for a penny, and
gave the waiter a penny; so that I was quite well served, nay, better
than the rest, for they gave the waiter nothing.' He at this time, I
believe, abstained entirely from fermented liquors: a practice to which
he rigidly conformed for many years together, at different periods of
his life.

His Ofellus in the Art of Living in London, I have heard him relate, was
an Irish painter, whom he knew at Birmingham, and who had practised his
own precepts of oeconomy for several years in the British capital. He
assured Johnson, who, I suppose, was then meditating to try his fortune
in London, but was apprehensive of the expence, 'that thirty pounds
a year was enough to enable a man to live there without being
contemptible. He allowed ten pounds for clothes and linen. He said a
man might live in a garret at eighteen-pence a week; few people would
inquire where he lodged; and if they did, it was easy to say, "Sir, I am
to be found at such a place." By spending three-pence in a coffeehouse,
he might be for some hours every day in very good company; he might dine
for six-pence, breakfast on bread and milk for a penny, and do without
supper. On clean-shirt-day he went abroad, and paid visits.' I have
heard him more than once talk of this frugal friend, whom he recollected
with esteem and kindness, and did not like to have one smile at the
recital. 'This man (said he, gravely) was a very sensible man, who
perfectly understood common affairs: a man of a great deal of knowledge
of the world, fresh from life, not strained through books. He amused
himself, I remember, by computing how much more expence was absolutely
necessary to live upon the same scale with that which his friend
described, when the value of money was diminished by the progress of
commerce. It may be estimated that double the money might now with
difficulty be sufficient.'

Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circumstance to
cheer him; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry Hervey, one of the
branches of the noble family of that name, who had been quartered at
Lichfield as an officer of the army, and had at this time a house in
London, where Johnson was frequently entertained, and had an opportunity
of meeting genteel company. Not very long before his death, he
mentioned this, among other particulars of his life, which he was kindly
communicating to me; and he described this early friend, 'Harry Hervey,'
thus: 'He was a vicious man, but very kind to me. If you call a dog
HERVEY, I shall love him.'

He told me he had now written only three acts of his Irene, and that he
retired for some time to lodgings at Greenwich, where he proceeded in it
somewhat further, and used to compose, walking in the Park; but did not
stay long enough at that place to finish it.

In the course of the summer he returned to Lichfield, where he had left
Mrs. Johnson, and there he at last finished his tragedy, which was not
executed with his rapidity of composition upon other occasions, but
was slowly and painfully elaborated. A few days before his death,
while burning a great mass of papers, he picked out from among them the
original unformed sketch of this tragedy, in his own hand-writing,
and gave it to Mr. Langton, by whose favour a copy of it is now in my
possession.

Johnson's residence at Lichfield, on his return to it at this time, was
only for three months; and as he had as yet seen but a small part of
the wonders of the Metropolis, he had little to tell his townsmen. He
related to me the following minute anecdote of this period: 'In the
last age, when my mother lived in London, there were two sets of people,
those who gave the wall, and those who took it; the peaceable and the
quarrelsome. When I returned to Lichfield, after having been in London,
my mother asked me, whether I was one of those who gave the wall, or
those who took it. NOW it is fixed that every man keeps to the right;
or, if one is taking the wall, another yields it; and it is never a
dispute.'

He now removed to London with Mrs. Johnson; but her daughter, who had
lived with them at Edial, was left with her relations in the
country. His lodgings were for some time in Woodstock-street, near
Hanover-square, and afterwards in Castle-street, near Cavendish-square.

His tragedy being by this time, as he thought, completely finished
and fit for the stage, he was very desirous that it should be brought
forward. Mr. Peter Garrick told me, that Johnson and he went together to
the Fountain tavern, and read it over, and that he afterwards solicited
Mr. Fleetwood, the patentee of Drury-lane theatre, to have it acted at
his house; but Mr. Fleetwood would not accept it, probably because it
was not patronized by some man of high rank; and it was not acted till
1749, when his friend David Garrick was manager of that theatre.

The Gentleman's Magazine, begun and carried on by Mr. Edward Cave,
under the name of SYLVANUS URBAN, had attracted the notice and esteem of
Johnson, in an eminent degree, before he came to London as an adventurer
in literature. He told me, that when he first saw St. John's Gate, the
place where that deservedly popular miscellany was originally printed,
he 'beheld it with reverence.'

It appears that he was now enlisted by Mr. Cave as a regular coadjutor
in his magazine, by which he probably obtained a tolerable livelihood.
At what time, or by what means, he had acquired a competent knowledge
both of French and Italian, I do not know; but he was so well skilled in
them, as to be sufficiently qualified for a translator. That part of his
labour which consisted in emendation and improvement of the productions
of other contributors, like that employed in levelling ground, can be
perceived only by those who had an opportunity of comparing the original
with the altered copy. What we certainly know to have been done by him
in this way, was the Debates in both houses of Parliament, under the
name of 'The Senate of Lilliput,' sometimes with feigned denominations
of the several speakers, sometimes with denominations formed of the
letters of their real names, in the manner of what is called anagram, so
that they might easily be decyphered. Parliament then kept the press in
a kind of mysterious awe, which made it necessary to have recourse to
such devices. In our time it has acquired an unrestrained freedom, so
that the people in all parts of the kingdom have a fair, open, and
exact report of the actual proceedings of their representatives and
legislators, which in our constitution is highly to be valued; though,
unquestionably, there has of late been too much reason to complain of
the petulance with which obscure scribblers have presumed to treat men
of the most respectable character and situation.

This important article of the Gentlemen's Magazine was, for several
years, executed by Mr. William Guthrie, a man who deserves to be
respectably recorded in the literary annals of this country. The debates
in Parliament, which were brought home and digested by Guthrie, whose
memory, though surpassed by others who have since followed him in the
same department, was yet very quick and tenacious, were sent by Cave
to Johnson for his revision; and, after some time, when Guthrie had
attained to greater variety of employment, and the speeches were more
and more enriched by the accession of Johnson's genius, it was resolved
that he should do the whole himself, from the scanty notes furnished
by persons employed to attend in both houses of Parliament. Sometimes,
however, as he himself told me, he had nothing more communicated to
him than the names of the several speakers, and the part which they had
taken in the debate.*

* Johnson later told Boswell that 'as soon as he found that
the speeches were thought genuine he determined that he
would write no more of them: for "he would not be accessary
to the propagation of falsehood." And such was the
tenderness of his conscience, that a short time before his
death he expressed his regret for his having been the
authour of fictions which had passed for realities.'--Ed.

But what first displayed his transcendent powers, and 'gave the world
assurance of the MAN,' was his London, a Poem, in Imitation of the Third
Satire of Juvenal: which came out in May this year, and burst forth with
a splendour, the rays of which will for ever encircle his name. Boileau
had imitated the same satire with great success, applying it to Paris;
but an attentive comparison will satisfy every reader, that he is
much excelled by the English Juvenal. Oldham had also imitated it, and
applied it to London; all which performances concur to prove, that great
cities, in every age, and in every country, will furnish similar topicks
of satire. Whether Johnson had previously read Oldham's imitation, I do
not know; but it is not a little remarkable, that there is scarcely any
coincidence found between the two performances, though upon the very
same subject.

Johnson's London was published in May, 1738; and it is remarkable, that
it came out on the same morning with Pope's satire, entitled '1738;' so
that England had at once its Juvenal and Horace as poetical monitors.
The Reverend Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, to whom I am indebted
for some obliging communications, was then a student at Oxford,
and remembers well the effect which London produced. Every body was
delighted with it; and there being no name to it, the first buz of the
literary circles was 'here is an unknown poet, greater even than Pope.'
And it is recorded in the Gentleman's Magazine of that year, that it
'got to the second edition in the course of a week.'

One of the warmest patrons of this poem on its first appearance was
General Oglethorpe, whose 'strong benevolence of soul,' was unabated
during the course of a very long life; though it is painful to think,
that he had but too much reason to become cold and callous, and
discontented with the world, from the neglect which he experienced of
his publick and private worth, by those in whose power it was to gratify
so gallant a veteran with marks of distinction. This extraordinary
person was as remarkable for his learning and taste, as for his other
eminent qualities; and no man was more prompt, active, and generous, in
encouraging merit. I have heard Johnson gratefully acknowledge, in his
presence, the kind and effectual support which he gave to his London,
though unacquainted with its authour.

Pope, who then filled the poetical throne without a rival, it may
reasonably be presumed, must have been particularly struck by the sudden
appearance of such a poet; and, to his credit, let it be remembered,
that his feelings and conduct on the occasion were candid and liberal.
He requested Mr. Richardson, son of the painter, to endeavour to find
out who this new authour was. Mr. Richardson, after some inquiry, having
informed him that he had discovered only that his name was Johnson, and
that he was some obscure man, Pope said; 'he will soon be deterre.' We
shall presently see, from a note written by Pope, that he was himself
afterwards more successful in his inquiries than his friend.

While we admire the poetical excellence of this poem, candour obliges us
to allow, that the flame of patriotism and zeal for popular resistance
with which it is fraught, had no just cause. There was, in truth, no
'oppression;' the 'nation' was NOT 'cheated.' Sir Robert Walpole was
a wise and a benevolent minister, who thought that the happiness and
prosperity of a commercial country like ours, would be best promoted by
peace, which he accordingly maintained, with credit, during a very long
period. Johnson himself afterwards honestly acknowledged the merit
of Walpole, whom he called 'a fixed star;' while he characterised his
opponent, Pitt, as 'a meteor.' But Johnson's juvenile poem was naturally
impregnated with the fire of opposition, and upon every account was
universally admired.

Though thus elevated into fame, and conscious of uncommon powers, he
had not that bustling confidence, or, I may rather say, that animated
ambition, which one might have supposed would have urged him to
endeavour at rising in life. But such was his inflexible dignity of
character, that he could not stoop to court the great; without which,
hardly any man has made his way to a high station. He could not expect
to produce many such works as his London, and he felt the hardships of
writing for bread; he was, therefore, willing to resume the office of a
schoolmaster, so as to have a sure, though moderate income for his life;
and an offer being made to him of the mastership of a school, provided
he could obtain the degree of Master of Arts, Dr. Adams was applied
to, by a common friend, to know whether that could be granted him as
a favour from the University of Oxford. But though he had made such a
figure in the literary world, it was then thought too great a favour to
be asked.

Pope, without any knowledge of him but from his London, recommended him
to Earl Gower, who endeavoured to procure for him a degree from Dublin.

It was, perhaps, no small disappointment to Johnson that this
respectable application had not the desired effect; yet how much reason
has there been, both for himself and his country, to rejoice that it did
not succeed, as he might probably have wasted in obscurity those hours
in which he afterwards produced his incomparable works.

About this time he made one other effort to emancipate himself from
the drudgery of authourship. He applied to Dr. Adams, to consult
Dr. Smalbroke of the Commons, whether a person might be permitted to
practice as an advocate there, without a doctor's degree in Civil Law.
'I am (said he) a total stranger to these studies; but whatever is a
profession, and maintains numbers, must be within the reach of common
abilities, and some degree of industry.' Dr. Adams was much pleased with
Johnson's design to employ his talents in that manner, being confident
he would have attained to great eminence.

As Mr. Pope's note concerning Johnson, alluded to in a former page,
refers both to his London, and his Marmor Norfolciense, I have deferred
inserting it till now. I am indebted for it to Dr. Percy, the Bishop
of Dromore, who permitted me to copy it from the original in his
possession. It was presented to his Lordship by Sir Joshua Reynolds, to
whom it was given by the son of Mr. Richardson the painter, the person
to whom it is addressed. I have transcribed it with minute exactness,
that the peculiar mode of writing, and imperfect spelling of that
celebrated poet, may be exhibited to the curious in literature. It
justifies Swift's epithet of 'Paper-sparing Pope,' for it is written
on a slip no larger than a common message-card, and was sent to Mr.
Richardson, along with the Imitation of Juvenal.


'This is imitated by one Johnson who put in for a Publick-school in
Shropshire, but was disappointed. He has an infirmity of the convulsive
kind, that attacks him sometimes, so as to make him a sad Spectacle. Mr.
P. from the Merit of this Work which was all the knowledge he had of him
endeavour'd to serve him without his own application; & wrote to my Ld
gore, but he did not succeed. Mr. Johnson published afterwds another
Poem in Latin with Notes the whole very Humerous call'd the Norfolk
Prophecy. P.'


Johnson had been told of this note; and Sir Joshua Reynolds informed
him of the compliment which it contained, but, from delicacy, avoided
shewing him the paper itself. When Sir Joshua observed to Johnson that
he seemed very desirous to see Pope's note, he answered, 'Who would not
be proud to have such a man as Pope so solicitous in inquiring about
him?'

The infirmity to which Mr. Pope alludes, appeared to me also, as I have
elsewhere observed, to be of the convulsive kind, and of the nature
of that distemper called St. Vitus's dance; and in this opinion I am
confirmed by the description which Sydenham gives of that disease. 'This
disorder is a kind of convulsion. It manifests itself by halting or
unsteadiness of one of the legs, which the patient draws after him like
an ideot. If the hand of the same side be applied to the breast, or any
other part of the body, he cannot keep it a moment in the same
posture, but it will be drawn into a different one by a convulsion,
notwithstanding all his efforts to the contrary.' Sir Joshua Reynolds,
however, was of a different opinion, and favoured me with the following
paper.

'Those motions or tricks of Dr. Johnson are improperly called
convulsions. He could sit motionless, when he was told so to do, as well
as any other man; my opinion is that it proceeded from a habit which
he had indulged himself in, of accompanying his thoughts with certain
untoward actions, and those actions always appeared to me as if they
were meant to reprobate some part of his past conduct. Whenever he was
not engaged in conversation, such thoughts were sure to rush into his
mind; and, for this reason, any company, any employment whatever, he
preferred to being alone. The great business of his life (he said) was
to escape from himself; this disposition he considered as the disease of
his mind, which nothing cured but company.

'One instance of his absence and particularity, as it is characteristick
of the man, may be worth relating. When he and I took a journey together
into the West, we visited the late Mr. Banks, of Dorsetshire; the
conversation turning upon pictures, which Johnson could not well see, he
retired to a corner of the room, stretching out his right leg as far as
he could reach before him, then bringing up his left leg, and stretching
his right still further on. The old gentleman observing him, went up to
him, and in a very courteous manner assured him, that though it was not
a new house, the flooring was perfectly safe. The Doctor started from
his reverie, like a person waked out of his sleep, but spoke not a
word.'

While we are on this subject, my readers may not be displeased with
another anecdote, communicated to me by the same friend, from the
relation of Mr. Hogarth.

Johnson used to be a pretty frequent visitor at the house of Mr.
Richardson, authour of Clarissa, and other novels of extensive
reputation. Mr. Hogarth came one day to see Richardson, soon after the
execution of Dr. Cameron, for having taken arms for the house of Stuart
in 1745-6; and being a warm partisan of George the Second, he
observed to Richardson, that certainly there must have been some very
unfavourable circumstances lately discovered in this particular case,
which had induced the King to approve of an execution for rebellion so
long after the time when it was committed, as this had the appearance of
putting a man to death in cold blood, and was very unlike his Majesty's
usual clemency. While he was talking, he perceived a person standing at
a window in the room, shaking his head, and rolling himself about in a
strange ridiculous manner. He concluded that he was an ideot, whom his
relations had put under the care of Mr. Richardson, as a very good man.
To his great surprise, however, this figure stalked forwards to where he
and Mr. Richardson were sitting, and all at once took up the argument,
and burst out into an invective against George the Second, as one,
who, upon all occasions was unrelenting and barbarous; mentioning many
instances, particularly, that when an officer of high rank had been
acquitted by a Court Martial, George the Second had with his own hand,
struck his name off the list. In short, he displayed such a power of
eloquence, that Hogarth looked at him with astonishment, and actually
imagined that this ideot had been at the moment inspired. Neither
Hogarth nor Johnson were made known to each other at this interview.

1740: AETAT. 31.]--In 1740 he wrote for the Gentleman's Magazine the
'Preface,' 'Life of Sir Francis Drake,' and the first parts of those of
'Admiral Blake,' and of 'Philip Baretier,' both which he finished the
following year. He also wrote an 'Essay on Epitaphs,' and an 'Epitaph
on Philips, a Musician,' which was afterwards published with some other
pieces of his, in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies. This Epitaph is so
exquisitely beautiful, that I remember even Lord Kames, strangely
prejudiced as he was against Dr. Johnson, was compelled to allow it very
high praise. It has been ascribed to Mr. Garrick, from its appearing at
first with the signature G; but I have heard Mr. Garrick declare, that
it was written by Dr. Johnson, and give the following account of the
manner in which it was composed. Johnson and he were sitting together;
when, amongst other things, Garrick repeated an Epitaph upon this
Philips by a Dr. Wilkes, in these words:

'Exalted soul! whose harmony could please
The love-sick virgin, and the gouty ease;
Could jarring discord, like Amphion, move
To beauteous order and harmonious love;
Rest here in peace, till angels bid thee rise,
And meet thy blessed Saviour in the skies.'

Johnson shook his head at these common-place funereal lines, and said to
Garrick, 'I think, Davy, I can make a better.' Then, stirring about his
tea for a little while, in a state of meditation, he almost extempore
produced the following verses:

'Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power or hapless love;
Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more,
Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep, undisturb'd, within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine!'

1742: AETAT. 33.]--In 1742 he wrote . . . 'Proposals for Printing
Bibliotheca Harleiana, or a Catalogue of the Library of the Earl of
Oxford.' He was employed in this business by Mr. Thomas Osborne the
bookseller, who purchased the library for 13,000l., a sum which Mr.
Oldys says, in one of his manuscripts, was not more than the binding of
the books had cost; yet, as Dr. Johnson assured me, the slowness of
the sale was such, that there was not much gained by it. It has been
confidently related, with many embellishments, that Johnson one day
knocked Osborne down in his shop, with a folio, and put his foot upon
his neck. The simple truth I had from Johnson himself. 'Sir, he was
impertinent to me, and I beat him. But it was not in his shop: it was in
my own chamber.'