A
POETICAL REVIEW, &c.
A Generous tear will Caledonia shed?
Her ancient foe, illustrious Johnson's dead;
Mac-Ossian's sons may now securely rest,
Safe from the bitter sneer, the cynick jest.[21]
The song of triumph now I seem to hear,
And these the sounds that vibrate on my ear:
"Low lies the man, who scarce deigns Gray to praise,
But from the tomb calls Blackmore's sleeping lays;
A passport grants to Pomfret's dismal chimes,
To Yalden's hymns, and Watts's holy rhimes;[22]
By subtle doubts would Swift's fair fame invade,
And round his brows the ray of glory shade;[23]
With poignant taunt mild Shenstone's life arraigns,
His taste contemns, and sweetly-flowing strains;
At zealous Milton aims his tory dart,
But in his Savage finds a moral heart;
At great Nassau despiteful rancour flings,[24]
But pension'd kneels ev'n to usurping kings:
Rich, old and dying, bows his laurel'd head,
And almost deigns to ask superfluous bread."[25]
A sceptick once, he taught the letter'd throng
To doubt the existence of fam'd Ossian's song;
Yet by the eye of faith, in reason's spite,
Saw ghosts and witches, preach'd up second sight:
For o'er his soul sad Superstition threw
Her gloom, and ting'd his genius with her hue.
On popish ground he takes his high church station,
To sound mysterious tenets through the nation;[26]
On Scotland's kirk he vents a bigot's gall,[27]
Though her young chieftains prophecy like Saul![28]
On Tetty's state his frighted fancy runs,[29]
And Heaven's appeas'd by cross unbutter'd buns:[30]
He sleeps and fasts,[31] pens on himself a libel,[32]
And still believes, but never reads the Bible.[33]
Fame says, at school, of scripture science vain,
Bel and the Dragon smote him on the brain;[34]
Scar'd with the blow, he shun'd the Jewish law,
And eyed the Ark with reverential awe:[35]
Let priestly S—h—n in a godly fit
The tale relate, in aid of Holy Writ;
Though candid Adams, by whom David fell,[36]
Who ancient miracles sustain'd so well,
To recent wonders may deny his aid,[37]
Nor own a buzy zealot of the trade.
A coward wish, long stigmatiz'd by fame,
Devotes Mæcenas to eternal shame;[38]
Religious Johnson, future life to gain,
Would ev'n submit to everlasting pain:
How clear, how strong, such kindred colours paint
The Roman epicure and Christian saint!
O, had he liv'd in more enlighten'd times,
When signs from heaven proclaim'd vile mortals' crimes,
How had he groan'd, with sacred horrors pale,
When Noah's comet shook her angry tail;[39]
That wicked comet, which Will Whiston swore
Would burn the earth that she had drown'd before![40]
Or when Moll Tosts, by throes parturient vext,
Saw her young rabbets peep from Esdras' text![41]
To him such signs, prepar'd by mystick grace,
Had shewn the impending doom of Adam's race.
But who to blaze his frailties feels delight,
When the great author rises to our sight?
When the pure tenour of his life we view,
Himself the bright exemplar that he drew?
Whose works console the good, instruct the wise,
And teach the soul to claim her kindred skies.
By grateful bards his name be ever sung,
Whose sterling touch has fix'd the English tongue!
Fortune's dire weight, the patron's cold disdain,
"Shook off, as dew-drops from the lion's mane;"[42]
Unknown, unaided, in a friendless state,[43]
Without one smile of favour from the great;
The bulky tome his curious care refines,
Till the great work in full perfection shines;
His wide research and patient skill displays
What scarce was sketch'd in Anna's golden days;[44]
What only learning's aggregated toil
Slowly accomplish'd in each foreign soil.[45]
Yet to the mine though the rich coin he trace,
No current marks his early essays grace;
For in each page we find a massy store
Of English bullion mix'd with Latian ore:
In solemn pomp, with pedantry combin'd,
He vents the morbid sadness of his mind;[46]
In scientifick phrase affects to smile,
Form'd on Brown's turgid Latin-English style:[47]
Too oft the abstract decorates his prose,[48]
While measur'd ternaries the periods close:
But all propriety his Ramblers mock,
When Betty prates from Newton and from Locke;
When no diversity we trace between
The lofty moralist and gay fifteen—[49]
Yet genius still breaks through the encumbering phrase;
His taste we censure, but the work we praise:
There learning beams with fancy's brilliant dyes,
Vivid as lights that gild the northern skies;
Man's complex heart he bares to open day,
Clear as the prism unfolds the blended ray:
The picture from his mind assumes its hue;
The shades too dark, but the design still true.
Though Johnson's merits thus I freely scan,
And paint the foibles of this wond'rous man;
Yet can I coolly read, and not admire,
When Learning, Wit and Poetry conspire
To shed a radiance o'er his moral page,
And spread truth's sacred light to many an age?
For all his works with innate lustre shine,
Strength all his own, and energy divine.
While through life's maze he sent a piercing view,
His mind expansive to the object grew.
With various stores of erudition fraught,
The lively image, the deep-searching thought,
Slept in repose;—but when the moment press'd,
The bright ideas flood at once confess'd;[50]
Instant his genius sped its vigorous rays,
And o'er the letter'd world diffus'd a blaze:
As womb'd with fire the cloud electrick flies,
And calmly o'er the horizon seems to rise;
Touch'd by the pointed steel, the lightning flows,
And all the expanse with rich effulgence glows.
In judgment keen, he acts the critick's part,
By reason proves the feelings of the heart;
In thought profound, in nature's study wise,
Shews from what source our fine sensations rise;
With truth, precision, fancy's claims defines,
And throws new splendour o'er the poet's lines.[51]
When specious sophists with presumption scan
The source of evil, hidden still from man;[52]
Revive Arabian tales[53], and vainly hope
To rival St. John, and his scholar, Pope;[54]
Though metaphysicks spread the gloom of night,
By reason's star he guides our aching sight;
The bounds of knowledge marks; and points the way
To pathless wastes, where wilder'd sages stray;
Where, like a farthing linkboy, Jennings stands,
And the dim torch drops from his feeble hands.
Impressive truth, in splendid fiction drest,[55]
Checks the vain wish, and calms the troubled breast;
O'er the dark mind a light celestial throws,
And sooths the angry passions to repose;
As oil effus'd illumes and smooths the deep,[56]
When round the bark the foaming surges sweep.—
But hark, he sings! the strain ev'n Pope admires;
Indignant Virtue her own bard inspires;
Sublime as Juvenal, he pours his lays,[57]
And with the Roman shares congenial praise:—
In glowing numbers now he fires the age,
And Shakspeare's sun relumes the clouded stage.[58]
So full his mind with images was fraught,
The rapid strains scarce claim'd a second thought;
And with like ease his vivid lines assume
The garb and dignity of ancient Rome.—
Let college versemen trite conceits express,
Trick'd out in splendid shreds of Virgil's dress;
From playful Ovid cull the tinsel phrase,
And vapid notions hitch in pilfer'd lays;
Then with mosaick art the piece combine,
And boast the glitter of each dulcet line:
Johnson adventur'd boldly to transfuse
His vigorous sense into the Latian muse;
Aspir'd to shine by unreflected light,
And with a Roman's ardour think and write.
He felt the tuneful Nine his breast inspire,
And, like a master, wak'd the[59] soothing lyre:
Horatian strains a grateful heart proclaim,
While Sky's wild rocks resound his Thralia's name.—
Hesperia's plant, in some less skillful hands,
To bloom a while, factitious heat demands;
Though glowing Maro a faint warmth supplies,
The sickly blossom in the hot-house dies:
By Johnson's genial culture, art, and toil,
Its root strikes deep, and owns the fost'ring soil;
Imbibes our sun through all its swelling veins,
And grows a native of Britannia's plains.
Soft-ey'd compassion, with a look benign
His fervent vows he offer'd at thy shrine;
To guilt, to woe, the sacred debt was paid,[60]
And helpless females bless'd his pious aid:
Snatch'd from disease, and want's abandon'd crew,
Despair and anguish from their victims flew;
Hope's soothing balm into their bosoms stole,
And tears of penitence restor'd the soul.
Nor did philanthrophy alone expand
His liberal heart, and ope his bounteous hand;
His talents ev'n he gave to friendship's claim,[61]
And by the gift imparted wealth and fame:
His mind exhaustless sped its vivid force,
Yet with unbated vigour held its course;
As some fix'd star fulfills heaven's great designs,
Lights other spheres, yet undiminish'd shines.
How few distinguish'd of the studious train
At the gay board their empire can maintain!
In their own books intomb'd their wisdom lies;
Too dull for talk, their slow conceptions rise:
Yet the mute author, of his writings proud,
For wit unshewn claims homage from the crowd;
As thread-bare misers, by mean avarice school'd,
Expect obeisance from their hidden gold.—
In converse quick, impetuous Johnson press'd
His weighty logick, or sarcastick jest:
Strong in the chace, and nimble in the turns,[62]
For victory still his fervid spirit burns;
Subtle when wrong, invincible when right,
Arm'd at all points, and glorying in his might,
Gladiator-like, he traverses the field,
And strength and skill compel the foe to yield.—
Yet have I seen him, with a milder air,
Encircled by the witty and the fair,
Ev'n in old age with placid mien rejoice
At beauty's smile, and beauty's flattering voice.—
With Reynolds' pencil, vivid, bold, and true,
So fervent Boswell gives him to our view.
In every trait we see his mind expand;
The master rises by the pupil's hand;
We love the writer, praise his happy vein,
Grac'd with the naiveté of the sage Montaigne.
Hence not alone are brighter parts display'd,
But ev'n the specks of character portray'd:
We see the Rambler with fastidious smile
Mark the lone tree, and note the heath-clad isle;
But when the heroick tale of Flora charms,[63]
Deck'd in a kilt, he wields a chieftain's arms:
The tuneful piper sounds a martial strain,
And Samuel sings, "The King shall have his ain":
Two Georges in his loyal zeal are slur'd,[64]
A gracious pension only saves the third!—
By Nature's gifts ordain'd mankind to rule,
He, like a Titian, form'd his brilliant school;
And taught congenial spirits to excel,
While from his lips impressive wisdom fell.
Our boasted Goldsmith felt the sovereign sway;
From him deriv'd the sweet yet nervous lay.
To Fame's proud cliff he bade our Raphael rise;
Hence Reynolds' pen with Reynolds' pencil vyes.
With Johnson's flame melodious Burney glows,[65]
While the grand strain in smoother cadence flows.
And you, Malone, to critick learning dear,
Correct and elegant, refin'd, though clear,
By studying him, acquir'd that classick taste,
Which high in Shakspeare's fane thy statue plac'd.
Near Johnson Steevens stands, on scenick ground,
Acute, laborious, fertile, and profound.
Ingenious Hawkesworth to this school we owe,
And scarce the pupil from the tutor know.
Here early parts accomplish'd Jones[66] sublimes,
And science blends with Asia's lofty rhimes:
Harmonious Jones! who in his splendid strains
Sings Camdeo's sports, on Agra's flowery plains;
In Hindu fictions while we fondly trace
Love and the Muses, deck'd with Attick grace.[67]
Amid these names can Boswell be forgot,
Scarce by North Britons now esteem'd a Scot?[68]
Who to the sage devoted from his youth,
Imbib'd from him the sacred love of truth;
The keen research, the exercise of mind,
And that best art, the art to know mankind.—
Nor was his energy confin'd alone
To friends around his philosophick throne;
Its influence wide improv'd our letter'd isle,
And lucid vigour mark'd the general style:
As Nile's proud waves, swol'n from their oozy bed,
First o'er the neighbouring meads majestick spread;
Till gathering force, they more and more expand,
And with new virtue fertilise the land.
Thus sings the Muse, to Johnson's memory just,
And scatters praise and censure o'er his dust;
For through each checker'd scene a contrast ran,
Too sad a proof, how great, how weak is man!
Though o'er his passions conscience held the rein,
He shook at dismal phantoms of the brain:
A boundless faith that noble mind debas'd,
By piercing wit, energick reason grac'd:
A generous Briton[69], yet he seems to hope
For James's grandson, and for James's Pope:
With courtly zeal fair freedom's sons defames,[70]
Yet, like a Hamden, pleads Ierne's claims.[71]
Though proudly splenetick, yet idly vain,
Accepted flattery, and dealt disdain.—
E'en shades like these, to brilliancy ally'd,
May comfort fools, and curb the Sage's pride.
Yet Learning's sons, who o'er his foibles mourn,
To latest time shall fondly view his urn;
And wond'ring praise, to human frailties blind,
Talents and virtue of the brightest kind;
Revere the man, with various knowledge stor'd,
Who science, arts, and life's whole scheme explor'd;
Who firmly scorn'd, when in a lowly state,
To flatter vice, or court the vain and great;[72]
Whose heart still felt a sympathetick glow,
Prompt to relieve man's variegated woe;
Whose ardent hope, intensely fix'd on high,
Saw future bliss with intellectual eye.
Still in his breast Religion held her sway,
Disclosing visions of celestial day;
And gave his soul, amidst this world of strife,
The blest reversion of eternal life:
By this dispell'd, each doubt and horrour flies,
And calm at length in holy peace he dies.
The sculptur'd trophy, and imperial bust,
That proudly rise around his hallow'd dust,
Shall mould'ring fall, by Time's slow hand decay'd,
But the bright meed of virtue ne'er shall fade.
Exulting Genius stamps his sacred name,
Enroll'd for ever in the dome of Fame.
T H E E N D.
Footnotes:
[[21]] "A Scotchman must be a sturdy moralist, who does not prefer Scotland to truth." Johnson's Journey to the Western Isles of Scotland.
[[22]] "The Poems of Dr. Watts were by my recommendation inserted in this collection; the readers of which are to impute to me whatever pleasure or weariness they may find in the perusal of Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret and Yalden." Johnson's Life of Watts.
The following specimen of their productions may be sufficient to enable the reader to judge of their respective merits:
"Alas, Jerusalem! alas! where's now
Thy pristine glory, thy unmatch'd renown,
To which the heathen monarchies did bow?
Ah, hapless, miserable town!"
Eleazar's Lamentation over Jerusalem, paraphrased by Pomfret.
"Before the Almighty Artist fram'd the sky,
Or gave the earth its harmony,
His first command was for thy light;
He view'd the lovely birth, and blessed it:
In purple swaddling bands it struggling lay,
Old Chaos then a chearful smile put on,
And from thy beauteous form did first presage its own."
Yalden's Hymn to Light.
"My chearful soul now all the day
Sits waiting here and sings;
Looks through the ruins of her clay,
And practises her wings.
O, rather let this flesh decay,
The ruins wider grow!
Till glad to see the enlarged way,
I stretch my pinions through."
A Sight of Heaven in Sickness, by Isaac Watts.
[[23]] "He seemed to me to have an unaccountable prejudice against Swift.—He said to-day,—I doubt if the Tale of a Tub was his; it has so much more thinking, more knowledge, more power, more colour, than any of the works that are indisputably his. If it was his, I shall only say, he was impar sibi." Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, p. 38.
Doctor Johnson's "unaccountable prejudice against Swift" may probably be derived from the same source as Blackmore's, if we may venture to form a judgement from the panegyrick he bestows on the following groundless invective, expressly aimed at Swift as the author of A Tale of a Tub, which he quotes in his life of Blackmore: "Several, in their books, have many sarcastical and spiteful strokes at religion in general; while others make themselves pleasant with the principles of the Christian. Of the last kind, this age has seen a most audacious example, in the book intituled "A Tale of a Tub." Had this writing been published in a pagan or popish nation, who are justly impatient of all indignity offered to the established religion of their country, no doubt but the author would have received the punishment he deserved.—But the fate of this impious buffoon is very different; for in a protestant kingdom, zealous of their civil and religious immunities, he has not only escaped affronts and the effects of publick resentment, but has been caressed and patronised by persons of great figure of all denominations."
The malevolent dullness of bigotry alone could have inspired Blackmore with these sentiments. The fact is, that the Tale of a Tub is a continued panegyrick on the Church of England, and a bitter satire on Popery, Calvinism, and every sect of dissenters. At the same time I am persuaded, that every reader of taste and discernment will perceive in many parts of Swift's other writings strong internal proofs of that style which characterises the Tale of a Tub; especially in the Publick Spirit of the Whigs. It is well known, that he affected simplicity, and studiously avoided any display of learning, except where the subject made it absolutely necessary. Temporary, local, and political topicks compose too great a part of his works; but in a treatise that admitted "more thinking, more knowledge," &c. he naturally exerted all his powers.—Let us hear the author himself on this point.
"The greatest part of that book was finished above thirteen years since, (1696) which is eight years before it was published. The author was then young, his invention at the height, and his reading fresh in his head." And again: "Men should be more cautious in losing their time, if they did but consider, that to answer a book effectually requireth more pains and skill, more wit, learning and judgement, than were employed in writing it.—And the author assureth those gentlemen, who have given themselves that trouble with him, that his discourse is the product of the study, the observation, and the invention of several years; that he often blotted out more than he left; and if his papers had not been a long time out of his possession, they must still have undergone more severe corrections." An Apology for the Tale of a Tub.—With respect to this work being the production of Swift, see his letter to the printer, Mr. Benjamin Tooke, dated Dublin, June 29, 1710, and Tooke's Answer on the publication of the Apology and a new edition of the Tale of a Tub. Hawkesworth's edition of Swift's Works, 8vo. vol. xvi. p. 145.
Doctor Hawkesworth mentions, in his preface, that the edition of A Tale of a Tub, printed in 1710, was revised and corrected by the Dean a short time before his understanding was impaired, and that the corrected copy was, in the year 1760, in the hands of his kinsman, Mr. Deane Swift.
[[24]] Johnson. "I would tell truth of the two Georges, or of that scoundrel, King William." Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, p. 312.
[[25]] See his letter to Lord Thurlow, in which he seems to approve of the application (though he was not previously consulted), thanks his Lordship for having made it, and even expresses some degree of surprize and resentment on the proposed addition to his pension being refused.
[[26]] "If (added Dr. Johnson) God had never spoken figuratively, we might hold that he speaks literally, when he says, "This is my body." Boswell's Tour, p. 67.—Here his only objection to transubstantiation seems to rest on the style of the Scripture being figurative elsewhere as well as in this passage. Hence we may infer, that he would otherwise have believed in it.—But Archbishop Tillotson and Mr. Locke reason more philosophically, by asserting that "no doctrine, however clearly expressed in Scripture, is to be admitted, if it contradict the evidence of our senses:—For our evidence for the truth of revealed religion is less than the evidence for the truth of our senses, because, even in the first authors of our religion, it was no greater; and it is evident it must diminish in passing from them to us, through the medium of human testimony."—This question, however, may perhaps be better elucidated by the following Anecdote, preserved by Mr. Richardson, than by a more serious discussion:
"Mr. Pope, who loved to talk of Titcum, (one who used to be of the party with him, Gay, Swift, Craggs, and Addison, and that set, in his youth,) told us, that Gay went to see him as he was dying, and asked him, if he would have a priest; (for he was a papist,) 'No, said he, what should I do with them? But I would rather have one of them, than one of yours, of the two. Our fools, (continued he) write great books to prove that bread is God; but your booby (he meant Tillotson) has wrote a long argument to prove that bread is bread.'" Richardsoniana, p. 167.
[[27]] See his conversation with Lord Auchinleck. Boswell's Tour.
[[28]] See the First Book of Samuel, ch. x.
[[29]] "And I commend to thy fatherly goodness the soul of my departed wife, beseeching thee to grant her whatever is best in her present state."
Johnson's Meditations.
[[30]] "I returned home, but could not settle my mind. At last I read a chapter. Then went down about six or seven, and eat two cross-buns."
Meditations, p. 154.
[[31]] "I fasted, though less rigorously than at other times. I by negligence poured some milk into my tea. Ibid. p. 146.—Yesterday, I fasted, as I have always, or commonly done, since the death of Tetty; the fast was more painful than usual."
[[32]]
"Purposes.
To keep a journal. To begin this day. (Sept. 18th, 1766.)
To spend four hours in study every day, and as much more as I can.
To read a portion of Scripture in Greek every Sunday.
To rise at eight.—Oct. 3d. Of all this I have done nothing." Ibid.
[[33]] "I resolved last Easter to read, within the year, the whole Bible; a great part of which I had never looked upon." Meditations.
[[34]] "I have never yet read the Apocrypha. When I was a boy I have read or heard Bel and the Dragon." Meditations.
[[35]] See the First Book of Samuel, ch. v. and vi. in which an account is given of the punishment of the Philistines for looking into the ark.
[[36]] The Rev. Dr. Adams of Oxford, distinguished for his answer to David Hume's Essay on Miracles.
[[37]] From the following letter there is reason to apprehend that Dr. Adams would not support Mr. S——n, if he should add this to the other singular anecdotes that he has published relative to Dr. Johnson.
Mr. Urban, Oxford, Oct. 22d, 1785.
In your last month's Review of books, you have asserted, that the publication of Dr. Johnson's Prayers and Meditations appears to have been at the instance of Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, Oxford. This, I think, is more than you are warranted by the editor's preface to say; and is so far from being true, that Dr. Adams never saw a line of these compositions, before they appeared in print, nor ever heard from Dr. Johnson, or the editor, that any such existed. Had he been consulted about the publication, he would certainly have given his voice against it: and he therefore hopes, that you will clear him, in as publick a manner as you can, from being any way accessary to it. Wm. Adams.
[[38]]
"Debilem facite manu,
Debilem pede, coxa;
Tuber adstrue gibberum;
Lubricos quate dentes;
Vita dum superest, bene est:
Hanc mihi, vel acuta
Si sedeam cruce, sustine." Senec. Epist. 101.
Let me but live, the fam'd Mæcenas cries,
Lame of both hands, and lame in feet and thighs;
Hump-back'd, and toothless;—all convuls'd with pain,
Ev'n on the cross,—so precious life remain.
Dr. Johnson, in his last illness, is said to have declared (in the presence of Doctors H. and B.) that he would prefer a state of existence in eternal pain to annihilation.
[[39]] "This last comet (which appeared in the year 1680) I may well call the most remarkable one that ever appeared; since, besides the former consideration, I shall presently shew, that it is no other than that very comet, which came by the earth at the time of Noah's deluge, and which was the cause of the same." Whiston's Theory of the Earth, p. 188.
[[40]] "Since 575 years appear to be the period of the comet that caused the deluge, what a learned friend who was the occasion of my examination of this matter, suggests, will deserve to be considered; viz. Whether the story of the phœnix, that celebrated emblem of the resurrection in Christian antiquity, (that it returns once after five centuries, and goes to the altar and city of the sun, and is there burnt; and another arises out of its ashes, and carries away the remains of the former; &c.) be not an allegorical representation of this comet, which returns once after five centuries, and goes down to the sun, and is there vehemently heated, and its outward regions dissolved; yet that it flies off again, and carries away what remains after that terrible burning; &c. and whether the conflagration and renovation of things, which some such comet may bring on the earth, be not hereby prefigured, I will not here be positive: but I own, that I do not know of any solution of this famous piece of mythology and hieroglyphics, as this seems to be, that can be compared with it." Ibid. p. 196.
[[41]] "'Tis here foretold [by Esdras] that there should be signs in the woman; and before all others this prediction has been verified in the famous rabbet-woman of Surrey, in the days of King George I.—This story has been so unjustly laughed out of countenance, that I must distinctly give my reasons for believing it to be true, and alleging it here as the fulfilling of this ancient prophecy before us.—1st. The man-midwife, Mr. Howard of Godalmin in Surrey, a person of very great honesty, skill and reputation in his profession, attested it.—It was believed by King George to be real; and it was also believed by my old friends the Speaker and Mr. Samuel Collet, as they told me themselves, and was generally by sober persons in the neighbourhood. Nay Mr. Molyneux, the Prince's Secretary, a very inquisitive person, and my very worthy friend, assured me he had at first so great a diffidence in the truth of the fact, and was so little biassed by the other believers, even by the King himself, that he would not be satisfied till he was permitted both to see and feel the rabbet, in that very passage, whence we all come into this world."
Whiston's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 110.
[[42]] "The incumbrances of fortune were shaken from his mind as dew-drops from the lion's mane." Johnson's Preface to his edition of Shakespeare.
[[43]] Every reader of sensibility must be strongly affected by the following pathetick passages:—"Much of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease; much has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall not think my employment useless or ignoble, if by my assistance foreign nations and distant ages gain access to the propagators of knowledge, and understand the teachers of truth; if my labours afford light to the repositories of science, and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to Milton, and to Boyle."
"In this work, when it shall be found that much is omitted, let it not be forgotten that much likewise is performed; and though no book was ever spared out of tenderness to the authour, and the world is little solicitous to know whence proceeded the faults of that which it condemns, yet it may gratify curiosity to inform it, that the English Dictionary was written with little assistance of the learned, and without any patronage of the great; not in the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academick bowers, but amidst inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow." Preface to Dr. Johnson's Dictionary.
[[44]] See Swift's letter to Lord Oxford for the institution of an academy to improve and fix the English language.
[[45]] The great French and Italian Dictionaries were not the productions of an individual, but were compiled by a body of Academicians in each country.
[[46]] "In times and regions so disjoined from each other, that there can scarcely be imagined any communication of sentiments, either by commerce or tradition, has prevailed a general and uniform expectation of propitiating God by corporal austerities, of anticipating his vengeance by voluntary inflictions, and appeasing his justice by a speedy and cheerful submission to a less penalty when a greater is incurred."
Rambler, No. 110.
[[47]] The style of the Ramblers seem to have been formed on that of Sir Thomas Brown's Vulgar Errors and Christian Morals.
"But ice is water congealed by the frigidity of the air, whereby it acquireth no new form, but rather a consistence or determination of its defluency, and amitteth not its essence, but condition of fluidity. Neither doth there any thing properly conglaciate but water, or watery humidity, for the determination of quicksilver is properly fixation, that of milk coagulation, and that of oil and unctuous bodies only incrassation."—Is this written by Brown or Johnson?
[[48]] In the Ramblers the abstract too often occurs instead of the concrete;—one of Dr. Johnson's peculiarities.
[[49]] See Victoria's Letter, Rambler, No. 130.—"I was never permitted to sleep till I had passed through the cosmetick discipline, part of which was a regular lustration performed with bean-flower water and may-dews; my hair was perfumed with a variety of unguents, by some of which it was to be thickened, and by others to be curled. The softness of my hands was secured by medicated gloves, and my bosom rubbed with a pomade prepared by my mother, of virtue to discuss pimples, and clear discolorations."
[[50]] Dr. Johnson's extraordinary facility of composition is well known from many circumstances. He wrote forty pages of the Life of Savage in one night. He composed seventy lines of his Imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, and wrote them down from memory, without altering a word. In the Prologue on opening Drury-Lane theatre, he changed but one word, and that in compliment to Mr. Garrick. Some of his Ramblers were written while the printer's messenger was waiting to carry the copy to the press. Many of the Idlers were written at Oxford; Dr. Johnson often began his talk only just in time not to miss the post, and sent away the paper without reading it over.
[[51]] See his admirable Lives of the Poets, and particularly his Disquisition on metaphysical and religious poetry.
[[52]] See his Review of Soame Jennings's Essay on the Origin of Evil; a masterpiece of composition, both for vigour of style and precision of ideas.
[[53]] Pope's or rather Bolingbroke's system was borrowed from the Arabian metaphysicians.
[[54]] The scheme of the Essay on Man was given by Lord Bolingbroke to Pope.
[[55]] See that sublime and beautiful Tale, The Prince of Abyssinia; and The Rambler, No. 65, 204, &c. &c.
[[56]] "The world is disposed to call this a discovery of Dr. Franklin's, (from his paper inserted in the Philosophical Transactions) but in this they are much mistaken. Pliny, Plutarch, and other naturalists were acquainted with it."—"Ea natura est olei, ut lucem afferat, ac tranquillar omnia, etiam mare, quo non aliud elementum implacabilius."
Memoirs of the Society of Manchester.
[[57]] London, a Satire, and The Vanity of Human Wishes, are both imitations of Juvenal. On the publication of London in 1738, Mr. Pope was so much struck by it, that he desired Mr. Dodsley, his bookseller, to find out the author. Dodsley having sought him in vain for some time, Mr. Pope said, he would very soon be deterré. Afterwards Mr. Richardson the painter found out Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Pope recommended him to Lord Gower.
[[58]] See the Prologue spoken by Mr. Garrick in 1747, on the opening of Drury-Lane theatre.
[[59]] "Inter ignotæ strepitus loquelæ."—Ode to Mrs. Thrale.
[[60]] The dignified and affecting letter written by him to the King in the name of Doctor Dodd, after his condemnation, is justly, and, I believe, universally admired. His benevolence, indeed, was uniform and unbounded.——I have been assured, that he has often been so much affected by the sight of several unfortunate women, whom he has seen almost perishing in the streets, that he has taken them to his own house; had them attended with care and tenderness; and, on their recovery, clothed, and placed them in a way of life to earn their bread by honest industry.
[[61]] The papers in the Adventurer, signed with the letter T, are commonly attributed to one of Dr. Johnson's earliest and most intimate friends, Dr. Bathurst; but there is good reason to believe that they were written by Dr. Johnson, and given by him to his friend. At that time Dr. Johnson was himself engaged in writing the Rambler, and could ill afford to make a present of his labours. The various other pieces that he gave away, have bestowed fame, and probably fortune, on several persons. To the great disgrace of some of his clerical friends, forty sermons, which he himself tells us he wrote, have not yet been deterré.
[[62]] "A good continued speech (says Bacon in his Essays) without a good speech of interlocution, shews slowness; and a good reply or second speech, without a good settled speech, sheweth shallowness and weakness. As we see in beasts, that those that are weakest in the course, are yet nimblest in the turn; as it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare."—If this observation be just, Dr. Johnson is an exception to the rule; for he was certainly as strong "in the course, as nimble in the turn"; as ready in "reply," as in "a settled speech."
[[63]] The celebrated Flora Macdonald. See Boswell's Tour.
[[65]] Dr. Burney's History of Musick is equally distinguished by elegance and perspicuity of style, and for scientifick knowledge.
[[66]] Sir William Jones produced that learned and ingenious work, Poeseos Asiaticæ Commentarii, at a very early age.
[[67]] "The Hindu God, to whom the following poem is addressed, appears evidently the same with the Grecian Eros, and the Roman Cupido.——His favourite place of resort is a large tract of country round Agra, and principally the plains of Matra, where Krishen also and the nine Gopia, who are clearly the Apollo and Muses of the Greeks, usually spend the night with musick and dance." Preface to the Hymn to Camdeo, translated from the Hindu language into Persian, and re-translated by Sir William Jones.
There can be little doubt, considering the antiquity and early civilisation of Hindostan, that both the philosophy and beautiful mythology of the Greeks were drawn from that part of Asia.
[[68]] The following observation in Mr. Boswell's Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, may sufficiently account for that gentleman's being "now scarcely esteem'd a Scot" by many of his countrymen; "If he [Dr. Johnson] was particularly prejudiced against the Scots it was because they were more in his way; because he thought their success in England rather exceeded the due proportion of their real merit; and because he could not but see in them that nationality which, I believe, no liberal-minded Scotchman will deny." Mr. Boswell indeed is so free from national prejudices, that he might with equal propriety have been described as—
"Scarce by South Britons now esteem'd a Scot."
[[69]] When Dr. Johnson repeated to Mr. Boswell Goldsmith's beautiful eulogium on the English nation, his eyes filled with tears.—Boswell's Tour, p. 431.—See also the Dissertation on the Bravery of the English common Soldiers, at the end of the Idler.
[[70]] See Taxation no Tyranny.
[[71]] Though Dr. Johnson has called Hamden the zealot of rebellion, yet that distinguished patriot could not have expressed himself with more ardour in the cause of liberty, than Dr. Johnson does in the following passage in his Life of Swift: "In the succeeding reign [that of George I.] he delivered Ireland from plunder and oppression; and shewed that wit, confederated with truth, had such force as authority was unable to resist.—It was from the time when he first began to patronize the Irish, that they may date their riches, and prosperity. He taught them first to know their own interest, their weight and their strength, and gave them spirit to assert that equality with their fellow-subjects to which they have been ever since making vigorous advances, and to claim those rights which they have at last established."
The truth indeed seems to be, that Dr. Johnson, though he had been bred in high-church principles, and always expressed himself in controversial argument like a Tory, possessed a high independent spirit, and appears to have been a friend to the rights of man. His definition of the word Caitiff, in his Dictionary, may throw some light on this part of his character. "Caitiff. [cattivo, Ital. a slave; whence it came to signify a bad man, with some implication of meanness; as knave in English, and fur in Latin; so certainly does slavery destroy virtue.
'Ημισυ τῆς αρετῆς ἀποαινυται δουλιον ἤμαρ.
A slave and a scoundrel are signified by the same words in many languages.] A mean villain," &c. See also that animated passage in his London, beginning, "Here let those reign," &c.
[[72]] It is observable that Dr. Johnson did not prefix a dedication to any one of his various works.