In the Literary Magazine; or, Universal Review, which began in January 1756.
HisOriginal Essaysare
Preliminary Address,intern. evid..
An introduction to the Political State of Great Britain,intern. evid..
Remarks on the Militia Bill,intern. evid..
Observations on his Britannick Majesty's Treaties with the Empress ofRussia and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel.intern. evid..
Observations on the Present State of Affairs.intern. evid..
Memoirs of Frederick III. King of Prussia.intern. evid..
In the same Magazine his Reviews_ are of the following Books:
'Birch's History of the Royal Society.'—'Browne's Christian Morals.'—'Warton's Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope, Vol. I.'—'Hampton's Translation of Polybius.'—'Sir Isaac Newton's Arguments in Proof of a Deity.'—'Borlase's History of the Isles of Scilly.'—'Home's Experiments on Bleaching.'—'Browne's History of Jamaica.'—'Hales on Distilling Sea Waters, Ventilators in Ships, and curing an ill Taste in Milk.'—'Lucas's Essay on Waters.'—'Keith's Catalogue of the Scottish Bishops.'—'Philosophical Transactions, Vol. XLIX.'—'Miscellanies by Elizabeth Harrison.'—'Evans's Map and Account of the Middle Colonies in America.'—'The Cadet, a Military Treatise.'—'The Conduct of the Ministry relating to the present War impartially examined.'intern. evid..
'Mrs. Lennox's Translation of Sully's Memoirs.'—'Letter on the Case ofAdmiral Byng.'—'Appeal to the People concerning AdmiralByng.'—'Hanway's Eight Days' Journey, and Essay on Tea.'—'Some furtherParticulars in Relation to the Case of Admiral Byng, by a Gentleman ofOxford.'acknowl.
Mr. Jonas Hanway having written an angry Answer to the Review of his Essay on Tea, Johnson in the same Collection made a Reply to it.acknowl. This is the only Instance, it is believed, when he condescended to take Notice of any Thing that had been written against him; and here his chief Intention seems to have been to make Sport.
Dedication to the Earl of Rochford of, and Preface to, Mr. Payne'sIntroduction to the Game of Draughts,acknowl.
Introduction to the London Chronicle, an Evening Paper which still subsists with deserved credit.acknowl.
1757. Speech on the Subject of an Address to the Throne after the Expedition to Rochefort; delivered by one of his Friends in some publick Meeting: it is printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for October 1785.intern. evid.
The first two Paragraphs of the Preface to Sir William Chambers'sDesigns of Chinese Buildings, &c.acknowl.
1758. THE IDLER, which began April 5, in this year, and was continued till April 5, 1760.acknowl.
An Essay on the Bravery of the English Common Soldiers was added to it when published in Volumes.acknowl.
1759. Rasselas Prince of Abyssinia, a Tale.acknowl.
Advertisement for the Proprietors of the Idler against certain Persons who pirated those Papers as they came out singly in a Newspaper called the Universal Chronicle or Weekly Gazette.intern. evid.
For Mrs. Charlotte Lennox's English Version of Brumoy,—'A Dissertation on the Greek Comedy,' and the General Conclusion of the Book.intern. evid.
Introduction to the World Displayed, a Collection of Voyages andTravels.acknowl.
Three Letters in the Gazetteer, concerning the best plan for BlackfriarsBridge.acknowl.
1760. Address of the Painters to George III. on his Accession to the Throne.intern. evid.
Dedication of Baretti's Italian and English Dictionary to the Marquis ofAbreu, then Envoy-Extraordinary from Spain at the Court ofGreat-Britain.intern. evid.
Review in the Gentleman's Magazine of Mr. Tytler's acute and ableVindication of Mary Queen of Scots.acknowl.
Introduction to the Proceedings of the Committee for Cloathing theFrench Prisoners.acknowl.
1761. Preface to Rolfs Dictionary of Trade and Commerce.acknowl.
Corrections and Improvements for Mr. Gwyn the Architect's Pamphlet, intitled 'Thoughts on the Coronation of George III.'acknowl.
1762. Dedication to the King of the Reverend Dr. Kennedy's Complete System of Astronomical Chronology, unfolding the Scriptures, Quarto Edition.acknowl.
Concluding Paragraph of that Work.intern. evid.
Preface to the Catalogue of the Artists' Exhibition.intern. evid.
1763.
Character of Collins in the Poetical Calendar, published by Fawkes andWoty.acknowl.
Dedication to the Earl of Shaftesbury of the Edition of Roger Ascham'sEnglish Works, published by the Reverend Mr. Bennet.acknowl.
The Life of Ascham, also prefixed to that edition.acknowl.
Review of Telemachus, a Masque, by the Reverend George Graham of EtonCollege, in the Critical Review.acknowl.
Dedication to the Queen of Mr. Hoole's Translation of Tasso.acknowl.
Account of the Detection of the Imposture of the Cock-Lane Ghost, published in the Newspapers and Gentleman's Magazine.acknowl.
1764.
Review of Goldsmith's Traveller, a Poem, in the Critical Review.acknowl.
1765.
The Plays of William Shakspeare, in eight volumes, 8vo. with Notes.acknowl.
1766.
The Fountains, a Fairy Tale, in Mrs. Williams's Miscellanies.acknowl.
1767.
Dedication to the King of Mr. Adams's Treatise on the Globes.acknowl.
1769.
Character of the Reverend Mr. Zachariah Mudge, in the London Chronicle.acknowl.
1770.
The False Alarm.acknowl.
1771.
Thoughts on the late Transactions respecting Falkland's Islands.acknowl.
1772.
Defence of a Schoolmaster; dictated to me for the House of Lords.acknowl.
Argument in Support of the Law ofVicious Intromission; dictated to me for the Court of Session in Scotland.acknowl.
1773.
Preface to Macbean's 'Dictionary of Ancient Geography.'acknowl.
Argument in Favour of the Rights of Lay Patrons; dictated to me for theGeneral Assembly of the Church of Scotland.acknowl.
1774.
The Patriot.acknowl.
1775.
A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland.acknowl.
Proposals for publishing the Works of Mrs. Charlotte Lennox, in ThreeVolumes Quarto.acknowl.
Preface to Baretti's Easy Lessons in Italian and English.intern. evid.
Taxation no Tyranny; an Answer to the Resolutions and Address of theAmerican Congress.acknowl.
Argument on the Case of Dr. Memis; dictated to me for the Court ofSession in Scotland.acknowl.
Argument to prove that the Corporation of Stirling was corrupt; dictated to me for the House of Lords.acknowl.
1776.
Argument in Support of the Right of immediate, and personal reprehension from the Pulpit; dictated to me.acknowl.
Proposals for publishing an Analysis of the Scotch Celtick Language, by the Reverend William Shaw.acknowl.
1777.
Dedication to the King of the Posthumous Works of Dr. Pearce, Bishop ofRochester.acknowl.
Additions to the Life and Character of that Prelate; prefixed to thoseWorks.acknowl.
Various Papers and Letters in Favour of the Reverend Dr. Dodd.acknowl.
1780.
Advertisement for his Friend Mr. Thrale to the Worthy Electors of theBorough of Southwark.acknowl.
The first Paragraph of Mr. Thomas Davies's Life of Garrick,acknowl.
1781.
Prefaces Biographical and Critical to the Works of the most eminentEnglish Poets; afterwards published with the Title of Lives of theEnglish Poets[83].acknowl.
Argument on the Importance of the Registration of Deeds; dictated to me for an Election Committee of the House of Commons.acknowl.
On the Distinction between TORY and WHIG; dictated to me.acknowl.
On Vicarious Punishments, and the great Propitiation for the Sins of theWorld, by JESUS CHRIST; dictated to me.acknowl.
Argument in favour of Joseph Knight, an African Negro, who claimed his Liberty in the Court of Session in Scotland, and obtained it; dictated to me.acknowl.
Defence of Mr. Robertson, Printer of the Caledonian Mercury, against the Society of Procurators in Edinburgh, for having inserted in his Paper a ludicrous Paragraph against them; demonstrating that it was not an injurious Libel; dictated to me.acknowl.
1782.
The greatest part, if not the whole, of a Reply, by the Reverend Mr.Shaw, to a Person at Edinburgh, of the Name of Clark, refuting hisarguments for the authenticity of the Poems published by Mr. JamesMacpherson as Translations from Ossian.intern. evid.
1784. List of the Authours of the Universal History, deposited in the British Museum, and printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for December, this year,acknowl.
Various Years.
Letters to Mrs. Thrale.acknowl.
Prayers and Meditations, which he delivered to the Rev. Mr. Strahan, enjoining him to publish them,acknowl.
Sermonsleft for Publicationby John Taylor, LL.D. Prebendary of Westminster, and given to the World by the Reverend Samuel Hayes, A.M.intern. evid.
Such was the number and variety of the Prose Works of this extraordinary man, which I have been able to discover, and am at liberty to mention; but we ought to keep in mind, that there must undoubtedly have been many more which are yet concealed; and we may add to the account, the numerous Letters which he wrote, of which a considerable part are yet unpublished. It is hoped that those persons in whose possession they are, will favour the world with them.
* * * * *
'After my death I wish no other herald,No other speaker of my living actions,To keep mine honour from corruption,But such an honest chronicler as Griffith[84].'
SHAKSPEARE,Henry VIII. [Act IV. Sc. 2.]
To write the Life of him who excelled all mankind in writing the lives of others, and who, whether we consider his extraordinary endowments, or his various works, has been equalled by few in any age, is an arduous, and may be reckoned in me a presumptuous task.
Had Dr. Johnson written his own life, in conformity with the opinion which he has given[85], that every man's life may be best written by himself; had he employed in the preservation of his own history, that clearness of narration and elegance of language in which he has embalmed so many eminent persons, the world would probably have had the most perfect example of biography that was ever exhibited. But although he at different times, in a desultory manner, committed to writing many particulars of the progress of his mind and fortunes, he never had persevering diligence enough to form them into a regular composition[86]. Of these memorials a few have been preserved; but the greater part was consigned by him to the flames, a few days before his death.
[Page 26: The Author's qualifications.]
As I had the honour and happiness of enjoying his friendship for upwards of twenty years; as I had the scheme of writing his life constantly in view; as he was well apprised of this circumstance[87], and from time to time obligingly satisfied my inquiries, by communicating to me the incidents of his early years; as I acquired a facility in recollecting, and was very assiduous in recording, his conversation, of which the extraordinary vigour and vivacity constituted one of the first features of his character; and as I have spared no pains in obtaining materials concerning him, from every quarter where I could discover that they were to be found, and have been favoured with the most liberal communications by his friends; I flatter myself that few biographers have entered upon such a work as this, with more advantages; independent of literary abilities, in which I am not vain enough to compare myself with some great names who have gone before me in this kind of writing.
[Page 27: The Life by Sir J. Hawkins.]
Since my work was announced, several Lives and Memoirs of Dr. Johnson have been published[88], the most voluminous of which is one compiled for the booksellers of London, by Sir John Hawkins, Knight[89], a man, whom, during my long intimacy with Dr. Johnson, I never saw in his company, I think but once, and I am sure not above twice. Johnson might have esteemed him for his decent, religious demeanour, and his knowledge of books and literary history; but from the rigid formality of his manners, it is evident that they never could have lived together with companionable ease and familiarity[90]; nor had Sir John Hawkins that nice perception which was necessary to mark the finer and less obvious parts of Johnson's character. His being appointed one of his executors, gave him an opportunity of taking possession of such fragments of a diary and other papers as were left; of which, before delivering them up to the residuary legatee, whose property they were, he endeavoured to extract the substance. In this he has not been very successful, as I have found upon a perusal of those papers, which have been since transferred to me. Sir John Hawkins's ponderous labours, I must acknowledge, exhibit afarrago, of which a considerable portion is not devoid of entertainment to the lovers of literary gossiping; but besides its being swelled out with long unnecessary extracts from various works (even one of several leaves from Osborne's Harleian Catalogue, and those not compiled by Johnson, but by Oldys), a very small part of it relates to the person who is the subject of the book; and, in that, there is such an inaccuracy in the statement of facts, as in so solemn an authour is hardly excusable, and certainly makes his narrative very unsatisfactory. But what is still worse, there is throughout the whole of it a dark uncharitable cast, by which the most unfavourable construction is put upon almost every circumstance in the character and conduct of my illustrious friend[91]; who, I trust, will, by a true and fair delineation, be vindicated both from the injurious misrepresentations of this authour, and from the slighter aspersions of a lady who once lived in great intimacy with him[92].
[Page 28: Warburton's view of biography.]
[Page 29: The author's mode of procedure.]
There is, in the British Museum, a letter from Bishop Warburton to Dr. Birch, on the subject of biography; which, though I am aware it may expose me to a charge of artfully raising the value of my own work, by contrasting it with that of which I have spoken, is so well conceived and expressed, that I cannot refrain from here inserting it:—
'I shall endeavor, (says Dr. Warburton,) to give you what satisfaction I can in any thing you want to be satisfied in any subject of Milton, and am extremely glad you intend to write his life. Almost all the life-writers we have had before Toland and Desmaiseaux[93], are indeed strange insipid creatures; and yet I had rather read the worst of them, than be obliged to go through with this of Milton's, or the other's life of Boileau, where there is such a dull, heavy succession of long quotations of disinteresting passages, that it makes their method quite nauseous. But the verbose, tasteless Frenchman seems to lay it down as a principle, that every life must be a book, and what's worse, it proves a book without a life; for what do we know of Boileau, after all his tedious stuff? You are the only one, (and I speak it without a compliment) that by the vigour of your stile and sentiments, and the real importance of your materials, have the art, (which one would imagine no one could have missed,) of adding agreements to the most agreeable subject in the world, which is literary history[94].'
'Nov. 24, 1737.'
[Page 30: Not a panegyrick, but a Life.]
Instead of melting down my materials into one mass, and constantly speaking in my own person, by which I might have appeared to have more merit in the execution of the work, I have resolved to adopt and enlarge upon the excellent plan of Mr. Mason, in his Memoirs of Gray[95]. Wherever narrative is necessary to explain, connect, and supply, I furnish it to the best of my abilities; but in the chronological series of Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, letters, or conversation, being convinced that this mode is more lively, and will make my readers better acquainted with him, than even most of those were who actually knew him, but could know him only partially; whereas there is here an accumulation of intelligence from various points, by which his character is more fully understood and illustrated[96].
Indeed I cannot conceive a more perfect mode of writing any man's life, than not only relating all the most important events of it in their order, but interweaving what he privately wrote, and said, and thought; by which mankind are enabled as it were to see him live, and to 'live o'er each scene[97]' with him, as he actually advanced through the several stages of his life. Had his other friends been as diligent and ardent as I was, he might have been almost entirely preserved. As it is, I will venture to say that he will be seen in this work more completely than any man who has ever yet lived[98].
And he will be seen as he really was; for I profess to write, not his panegyrick, which must be all praise, but his Life; which, great and good as he was, must not be supposed to be entirely perfect. To be as he was, is indeed subject of panegyrick enough to any man in this state of being; but in every picture there should be shade as well as light, and when I delineate him without reserve, I do what he himself recommended, both by his precept and his example[99].
[Page 31: Conversation best displays character.]
'If the biographer writes from personal knowledge, and makes haste to gratify the publick curiosity, there is danger lest his interest, his fear, his gratitude, or his tenderness overpower his fidelity, and tempt him to conceal, if not to invent. There are many who think it an act of piety to hide the faults or failings of their friends, even when they can no longer suffer by their detection; we therefore see whole ranks of characters adorned with uniform panegyrick, and not to be known from one another but by extrinsick and casual circumstances. "Let me remember, (says Hale,) when I find myself inclined to pity a criminal, that there is likewise a pity due to the country." If we owe regard to the memory of the dead, there is yet more respect to be paid to knowledge, to virtue and to truth[100].'
What I consider as the peculiar value of the following work, is, the quantity it contains of Johnson's conversation; which is universally acknowledged to have been eminently instructive and entertaining; and of which the specimens that I have given upon a former occasion[101], have been received with so much approbation, that I have good grounds for supposing that the world will not be indifferent to more ample communications of a similar nature.
That the conversation of a celebrated man, if his talents have been exerted in conversation, will best display his character, is, I trust, too well established in the judgment of mankind, to be at all shaken by a sneering observation of Mr. Mason, in hisMemoirs of Mr. William Whitehead, in which there is literally noLife, but a mere dry narrative of facts[102]. I do not think it was quite necessary to attempt a depreciation of what is universally esteemed, because it was not to be found in the immediate object of the ingenious writer's pen; for in truth, from a man so still and so tame, as to be contented to pass many years as the domestick companion of a superannuated lord and lady[103], conversation could no more be expected, than from a Chinese mandarin on a chimney-piece, or the fantastick figures on a gilt leather skreen.
[Page 32: Dr. Johnson on biography.]
If authority be required, let us appeal to Plutarch, the prince of ancient biographers. [Greek: Oute tais epiphanestatais praxesi pantos enesti daelosis aretaes ae kakias, alla pragma brachu pollakis, kai raema, kai paidia tis emphasin aethous epoiaesen mallon ae machai murionekroi, kai parataxeis ai megistai, kai poliorkiai poleon.] Nor is it always in the most distinguished atchievements that men's virtues or vices may be best discerned; but very often an action of small note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person's real character more than the greatest sieges, or the most important battles[104].'
To this may be added the sentiments of the very man whose life I am about to exhibit.
'The business of the biographer is often to pass slightly over those performances and incidents which produce vulgar greatness, to lead the thoughts into domestick privacies, and display the minute details of daily life, where exteriour appendages are cast aside, and men excel each other only by prudence and by virtue. The account of Thuanus is with great propriety said by its authour to have been written, that it might lay open to posterity the private and familiar character of that man,cujus ingenium et candorem ex ipsius scriptis sunt olim semper miraturi, whose candour and genius will to the end of time be by his writings preserved in admiration.
'There are many invisible circumstances, which whether we read as enquirers after natural or moral knowledge, whether we intend to enlarge our science, or increase our virtue, are more important than publick occurrences. Thus Sallust, the great master of nature, has not forgot in his account of Catiline to remark, that his walk was now quick, and again slow, as an indication of a mind revolving[105] with violent commotion. Thus the story of Melanchthon affords a striking lecture on the value of time, by informing us, that when he had made an appointment, he expected not only the hour, but the minute to be fixed, that the day might not run out in the idleness of suspence; and all the plans and enterprises of De Witt are now of less importance to the world than that part of his personal character, which represents him as careful of his health, and negligent of his life.
'But biography has often been allotted to writers, who seem very little acquainted with the nature of their task, or very negligent about the performance. They rarely afford any other account than might be collected from publick papers, but imagine themselves writing a life, when they exhibit a chronological series of actions or preferments;[106] and have so little regard to the manners[106] or behaviour of their heroes, that more knowledge may be gained of a man's real character, by a short conversation with one of his servants, than from a formal and studied narrative, begun with his pedigree, and ended with his funeral.
[Page 33: Reply to possible objections.]
'There are indeed, some natural reasons why these narratives are often written by such as were not likely to give much instruction or delight, and why most accounts of particular persons are barren and useless. If a life be delayed till interest and envy are at an end, we may hope for impartiality, but must expect little intelligence; for the incidents which give excellence to biography are of a volatile and evanescent kind, such as soon escape the memory, and are transmitted[107] by tradition. We know how few can pourtray a living acquaintance, except by his most prominent and observable particularities, and the grosser features of his mind; and it may be easily imagined how much of this little knowledge may be lost in imparting it, and how soon a succession of copies will lose all resemblance of the original[108].'
I am fully aware of the objections which may be made to the minuteness on some occasions of my detail of Johnson's conversation, and how happily it is adapted for the petty exercise of ridicule, by men of superficial understanding and ludicrous fancy; but I remain firm and confident in my opinion, that minute particulars are frequently characteristick, and always amusing, when they relate to a distinguished man. I am therefore exceedingly unwilling that any thing, however slight, which my illustrious friend thought it worth his while to express, with any degree of point, should perish. For this almost superstitious reverence, I have found very old and venerable authority, quoted by our great modern prelate, Secker, in whose tenth sermon there is the following passage:
'Rabbi David Kimchi, a noted Jewish Commentator, who lived about five hundred years ago, explains that passage in the first Psalm,His leaf also shall not wither, from Rabbins yet older than himself, thus: Thateven the idle talk, so he expresses it,of a good man ought to be regarded; the most superfluous things he saith are always of some value. And other ancient authours have the same phrase, nearly in the same sense.'
[Page 34: Johnson's birth and baptism. A.D. 1709.]
Of one thing I am certain, that considering how highly the small portion which we have of the table-talk and other anecdotes of our celebrated writers is valued, and how earnestly it is regretted that we have not more, I am justified in preserving rather too many of Johnson's sayings, than too few; especially as from the diversity of dispositions it cannot be known with certainty beforehand, whether what may seem trifling to some and perhaps to the collector himself, may not be most agreeable to many; and the greater number that an authour can please in any degree, the more pleasure does there arise to a benevolent mind.
To those who are weak enough to think this a degrading task, and the time and labour which have been devoted to it misemployed, I shall content myself with opposing the authority of the greatest man of any age, JULIUS CÆSAR, of whom Bacon observes, that 'in his book of Apothegms which he collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words of others, than to have every word of his own to be made an apothegm or an oracle[109].'
Having said thus much by way of introduction, I commit the following pages to the candour of the Publick.
* * * * *
SAMUEL[110] JOHNSON was born at Lichfield, in Staffordshire, on the 18th of September, N.S., 1709; and his initiation into the Christian Church was not delayed; for his baptism is recorded, in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city, to have been performed on the day of his birth. His father is there stiledGentleman, a circumstance of which an ignorant panegyrist has praised him for not being proud; when the truth is, that the appellation of Gentleman, though now lost in the indiscriminate assumption ofEsquire[111], was commonly taken by those who could not boast of gentility. His father was Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of obscure extraction[112], who settled in Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer[113].
[Page 35: His parentage. A.D. 1709]
His mother was Sarah Ford, descended of an ancient race of substantial yeomanry in Warwickshire[114]. They were well advanced in years when they married, and never had more than two children, both sons; Samuel, their first born, who lived to be the illustrious character whose various excellence I am to endeavour to record, and Nathanael, who died in his twenty-fifth year.
[Page 36: Character of Michael Johnson. A.D. 1709]
Mr. Michael Johnson was a man of a large and robust body, and of a strong and active mind; yet, as in the most solid rocks veins of unsound substance are often discovered, there was in him a mixture of that disease, the nature of which eludes the most minute enquiry, though the effects are well known to be a weariness of life, an unconcern about those things which agitate the greater part of mankind, and a general sensation of gloomy wretchedness[115]. From him then his son inherited, with some other qualities, 'a vile melancholy,' which in his too strong expression of any disturbance of the mind, 'made him mad all his life, at least not sober[116].' Michael was, however, forced by the narrowness of his circumstances to be very diligent in business, not only in his shop[117], but by occasionally resorting to several towns in the neighbourhood[118], some of which were at a considerable distance from Lichfield[119]. At that time booksellers' shops in the provincial towns of England were very rare, so that there was not one even in Birmingham, in which town old Mr. Johnson used to open a shop every market-day. He was a pretty good Latin scholar, and a citizen so creditable as to be made one of the magistrates of Lichfield[120]; and, being a man of good sense, and skill in his trade, he acquired a reasonable share of wealth, of which however he afterwards lost the greatest part, by engaging unsuccessfully in a manufacture of parchment[121]. He was a zealous high-church man and royalist, and retained his attachment to the unfortunate house of Stuart, though he reconciled himself, by casuistical arguments of expediency and necessity, to take the oaths imposed by the prevailing power[122].
[Page 37: An incident in his life. A.D. 1709]
There is a circumstance in his life somewhat romantick, but so well authenticated, that I shall not omit it. A young woman of Leek, in Staffordshire, while he served his apprenticeship there, conceived a violent passion for him; and though it met with no favourable return, followed him to Lichfield, where she took lodgings opposite to the house in which he lived, and indulged her hopeless flame. When he was informed that it so preyed upon her mind that her life was in danger, he with a generous humanity went to her and offered to marry her, but it was then too late: her vital power was exhausted; and she actually exhibited one of the very rare instances of dying for love. She was buried in the cathedral of Lichfield; and he, with a tender regard, placed a stone over her grave with this inscription:
Here lies the body of
Mrs. ELIZABETH BLANEY, a stranger.
She departed this life
20 of September, 1694.
[Page 38: Sarah Johnson. A.D. 1712.]
Johnson's mother was a woman of distinguished understanding. I asked his old school-fellow, Mr. Hector, surgeon of Birmingham, if she was not vain of her son. He said, 'she had too much good sense to be vain, but she knew her son's value.' Her piety was not inferiour to her understanding; and to her must be ascribed those early impressions of religion upon the mind of her son, from which the world afterwards derived so much benefit. He told me, that he remembered distinctly having had the first notice of Heaven, 'a place to which good people went,' and hell, 'a place to which bad people went,' communicated to him by her, when a little child in bed with her[123]; and that it might be the better fixed in his memory, she sent him to repeat it to Thomas Jackson, their man-servant; he not being in the way, this was not done; but there was no occasion for any artificial aid for its preservation.
In following so very eminent a man from his cradle to his grave, every minute particular, which can throw light on the progress of his mind, is interesting. That he was remarkable, even in his earliest years, may easily be supposed; for to use his own words in his Life of Sydenham,
'That the strength of his understanding, the accuracy of his discernment, and ardour of his curiosity, might have been remarked from his infancy, by a diligent observer, there is no reason to doubt. For, there is no instance of any man, whose history has been minutely related, that did not in every part of life discover the same proportion of intellectual vigour[124].'
In all such investigations it is certainly unwise to pay too much attention to incidents which the credulous relate with eager satisfaction, and the more scrupulous or witty enquirer considers only as topicks of ridicule: Yet there is a traditional story of the infant Hercules of toryism, so curiously characteristick, that I shall not withhold it. It was communicated to me in a letter from Miss Mary Adye, of Lichfield:
[Page 39: Anecdotes of Johnson's childhood.]
'When Dr. Sacheverel was at Lichfield, Johnson was not quite three years old. My grandfather Hammond observed him at the cathedral perched upon his father's shoulders, listening and gaping at the much celebrated preacher. Mr. Hammond asked Mr. Johnson how he could possibly think of bringing such an infant to church, and in the midst of so great a croud. He answered, because it was impossible to keep him at home; for, young as he was, he believed he had caught the publick spirit and zeal for Sacheverel, and would have staid for ever in the church, satisfied with beholding him[125].'
Nor can I omit a little instance of that jealous independence of spirit, and impetuosity of temper, which never forsook him. The fact was acknowledged to me by himself, upon the authority of his mother. One day, when the servant who used to be sent to school to conduct him home, had not come in time, he set out by himself, though he was then so near-sighted, that he was obliged to stoop down on his hands and knees to take a view of the kennel before he ventured to step over it. His school-mistress, afraid that he might miss his way, or fall into the kennel, or be run over by a cart, followed him at some distance. He happened to turn about and perceive her. Feeling her careful attention as an insult to his manliness, he ran back to her in a rage, and beat her, as well as his strength would permit.
Of the power of his memory, for which he was all his life eminent to a degree almost incredible[126], the following early instance was told me in his presence at Lichfield, in 1776, by his step-daughter, Mrs. Lucy Porter, as related to her by his mother.
[Page 40: Johnson's infant precocity. A.D. 1712.]
When he was a child in petticoats, and had learnt to read, Mrs. Johnson one morning put the common prayer-book into his hands, pointed to the collect for the day, and said, 'Sam, you must get this by heart.' She went up stairs, leaving him to study it: But by the time she had reached the second floor, she heard him following her. 'What's the matter?' said she. 'I can say it,' he replied; and repeated it distinctly, though he could not have read it more than twice.
But there has been another story of his infant precocity generally circulated, and generally believed, the truth of which I am to refute upon his own authority. It is told[127], that, when a child of three years old, he chanced to tread upon a duckling, the eleventh of a brood, and killed it; upon which, it is said, he dictated to his mother the following epitaph:
'Here lies good master duck,Whom Samuel Johnson trod on;If it had liv'd, it had beengood luck,For then we'd had anodd one.'
There is surely internal evidence that this little composition combines in it, what no child of three years old could produce, without an extension of its faculties by immediate inspiration; yet Mrs. Lucy Porter, Dr. Johnson's step-daughter, positively maintained to me, in his presence, that there could be no doubt of the truth of this anecdote, for she had heard it from his mother. So difficult is it to obtain an authentick relation of facts, and such authority may there be for errour; for he assured me, that his father made the verses, and wished to pass them for his child's. He added, 'my father was a foolish old man[128]; that is to say, foolish in talking of his children[129].'
[Page 41: His eyesight.]
[Page 42: The king's evil.]
Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted with the scrophula, or king's evil, which disfigured a countenance naturally well formed, and hurt his visual nerves so much, that he did not see at all with one of his eyes, though its appearance was little different from that of the other. There is amongst his prayers, one inscribed 'When myEYEwas restored to its use[130],' which ascertains a defect that many of his friends knew he had, though I never perceived it[131]. I supposed him to be only near-sighted; and indeed I must observe, that in no other respect could I discern any defect in his vision; on the contrary, the force of his attention and perceptive quickness made him see and distinguish all manner of objects, whether of nature or of art, with a nicety that is rarely to be found. When he and I were travelling in the Highlands of Scotland, and I pointed out to him a mountain which I observed resembled a cone, he corrected my inaccuracy, by shewing me, that it was indeed pointed at the top, but that one side of it was larger than the other[132]. And the ladies with whom he was acquainted agree, that no man was more nicely and minutely critical in the elegance of female dress[133]. When I found that he saw the romantick beauties of Islam, in Derbyshire, much better than I did, I told him that he resembled an able performer upon a bad instrument[134]. How false and contemptible then are all the remarks which have been made to the prejudice either of his candour or of his philosophy, founded upon a supposition that he was almost blind. It has been said, that he contracted this grievous malady from his nurse[135]. His mother yielding to the superstitious notion, which, it is wonderful to think, prevailed so long in this country, as to the virtue of the regal touch; a notion, which our kings encouraged, and to which a man of such inquiry and such judgement as Carte[136] could give credit; carried him to London, where he was actually touched by Queen Anne. Mrs. Johnson indeed, as Mr. Hector informed me, acted by the advice of the celebrated Sir John Floyer[137], then a physician in Lichfield. Johnson used to talk of this very frankly; and Mrs. Piozzi has preserved his very picturesque description of the scene, as it remained upon his fancy. Being asked if he could remember Queen Anne, 'He had (he said) a confused, but somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, and a long black hood[138].' This touch, however, was without any effect. I ventured to say to him, in allusion to the political principles in which he was educated, and of which he ever retained some odour, that 'his mother had not carried him far enough; she should have taken him to ROME.'
[Page 43: Johnson at a dame's school.]
He was first taught to read English by Dame Oliver[139], a widow, who kept a school for young children in Lichfield. He told me she could read the black letter, and asked him to borrow for her, from his father, a bible in that character. When he was going to Oxford, she came to take leave of him, brought him, in the simplicity of her kindness, a present of gingerbread, and said, he was the best scholar she ever had. He delighted in mentioning this early compliment: adding, with a smile, that 'this was as high a proof of his merit as he could conceive.' His next instructor in English was a master, whom, when he spoke of him to me, he familiarly called Tom Brown, who, said he, 'published a spelling-book, and dedicated it to the UNIVERSE; but, I fear, no copy of it can now be had[140].'
[Page 44: Lichfield School.]
He began to learn Latin[141] with Mr. Hawkins, usher, or under-master of Lichfield school, 'a man (said he) very skilful in his little way.' With him he continued two years[142], and then rose to be under the care of Mr. Hunter, the head-master, who, according to his account, 'was very severe, and wrong-headedly severe. He used (said he) to beat us unmercifully; and he did not distinguish between ignorance and negligence; for he would beat a boy equally for not knowing a thing, as for neglecting to know it. He would ask a boy a question; and if he did not answer it, he would beat him, without considering whether he had an opportunity of knowing how to answer it. For instance, he would call up a boy and ask him Latin for a candlestick, which the boy could not expect to be asked. Now, Sir, if a boy could answer every question, there would be no need of a master to teach him.'
[Page 45: Johnson's school-fellows.]
It is, however, but justice to the memory of Mr. Hunter to mention, that though he might err in being too severe, the school of Lichfield was very respectable in his time[143]. The late Dr. Taylor, Prebendary of Westminster, who was educated under him, told me, that 'he was an excellent master, and that his ushers were most of them men of eminence; that Holbrook, one of the most ingenious men, best scholars, and best preachers of his age, was usher during the greatest part of the time that Johnson was at school[144]. Then came Hague, of whom as much might be said, with the addition that he was an elegant poet. Hague was succeeded by Green, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, whose character in the learned world is well known[145]. In the same form with Johnson was Congreve[146], who afterwards became chaplain to Archbishop Boulter, and by that connection obtained good preferment in Ireland. He was a younger son of the ancient family of Congreve, in Staffordshire, of which the poet was a branch. His brother sold the estate. There was also Lowe, afterwards Canon of Windsor[147].'
[Page 46: Mr. Hunter.]
Indeed Johnson was very sensible how much he owed to Mr. Hunter. Mr. Langton one day asked him how he had acquired so accurate a knowledge of Latin, in which, I believe, he was exceeded by no man of his time; he said, 'My master whipt me very well. Without that, Sir, I should have done nothing.' He told Mr. Langton, that while Hunter was flogging his boys unmercifully, he used to say, 'And this I do to save you from the gallows.' Johnson, upon all occasions, expressed his approbation of enforcing instruction by means of the rod[148]. 'I would rather (said he) have the rod to be the general terrour to all, to make them learn, than tell a child, if you do thus, or thus, you will be more esteemed than your brothers or sisters. The rod produces an effect which terminates in itself. A child is afraid of being whipped, and gets his task, and there's an end on't; whereas, by exciting emulation and comparisons of superiority, you lay the foundation of lasting mischief; you make brothers and sisters hate each other[149].'
When Johnson saw some young ladies in Lincolnshire who were remarkably well behaved, owing to their mother's strict discipline and severe correction[150], he exclaimed, in one of Shakspeare's lines a little varied,
'Rod, I will honour thee for this thy duty[151].'
[Page 47: Johnson a King of men.]
That superiority over his fellows, which he maintained with so much dignity in his march through life, was not assumed from vanity and ostentation, but was the natural and constant effect of those extraordinary powers of mind, of which he could not but be conscious by comparison; the intellectual difference, which in other cases of comparison of characters, is often a matter of undecided contest, being as clear in his case as the superiority of stature in some men above others. Johnson did not strut or stand on tip-toe: He only did not stoop. From his earliest years his superiority was perceived and acknowledged[152]. He was from the beginning [Greek: anax andron], a king of men. His schoolfellow, Mr. Hector, has obligingly furnished me with many particulars of his boyish days[153]: and assured me that he never knew him corrected at school, but for talking and diverting other boys from their business. He seemed to learn by intuition; for though indolence and procrastination were inherent in his constitution, whenever he made an exertion he did more than any one else. In short, he is a memorable instance of what has been often observed, that the boy is the man in miniature: and that the distinguishing characteristicks of each individual are the same, through the whole course of life. His favourites used to receive very liberal assistance from him; and such was the submission and deference with which he was treated, such the desire to obtain his regard, that three of the boys, of whom Mr. Hector was sometimes one, used to come in the morning as his humble attendants, and carry him to school. One in the middle stooped, while he sat upon his back, and one on each side supported him; and thus he was borne triumphant. Such a proof of the early predominance of intellectual vigour is very remarkable, and does honour to human nature. Talking to me once himself of his being much distinguished at school, he told me, 'they never thought to raise me by comparing me to any one; they never said, Johnson is as good a scholar as such a one; but such a one is as good a scholar as Johnson; and this was said but of one, but of Lowe; and I do not think he was as good a scholar.'
[Page 48: Johnson's tenacious memory.]
He discovered a great ambition to excel, which roused him to counteract his indolence. He was uncommonly inquisitive; and his memory was so tenacious, that he never forgot any thing that he either heard or read. Mr. Hector remembers having recited to him eighteen verses, which, after a little pause, he repeatedverbatim, varying only one epithet, by which he improved the line.
He never joined with the other boys in their ordinary diversions: his only amusement was in winter, when he took a pleasure in being drawn upon the ice by a boy barefooted, who pulled him along by a garter fixed round him; no very easy operation, as his size was remarkably large. His defective sight, indeed, prevented him from enjoying the common sports; and he once pleasantly remarked to me, 'how wonderfully well he had contrived to be idle without them.' Lord Chesterfield, however, has justly observed in one of his letters, when earnestly cautioning a friend against the pernicious effects of idleness, that active sports are not to be reckoned idleness in young people; and that the listless torpor of doing nothing, alone deserves that name[154]. Of this dismal inertness of disposition, Johnson had all his life too great a share. Mr. Hector relates, that 'he could not oblige him more than by sauntering away the hours of vacation in the fields, during which he was more engaged in talking to himself than to his companion.'
[Page 49: His fondness for romances.]
Dr. Percy[155], the Bishop of Dromore, who was long intimately acquainted with him, and has preserved a few anecdotes concerning him, regretting that he was not a more diligent collector, informs me, that 'when a boy he was immoderately fond of reading romances of chivalry, and he retained his fondness for them through life; so that (adds his Lordship) spending part of a summer[156] at my parsonage-house in the country, he chose for his regular reading the old Spanish romance ofFelixmarte of Hircania, in folio, which he read quite through[157]. Yet I have heard him attribute to these extravagant fictions that unsettled turn of mind which prevented his ever fixing in any profession.'
[Page 50: Stourbridge School.]
1725: ÆTAT. 16.—After having resided for some time at the house of his uncle, Cornelius Ford[158], Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed to the school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. Wentworth was then master. This step was taken by the advice of his cousin, the Reverend Mr. Ford, a man in whom both talents and good dispositions were disgraced by licentiousness[159], but who was a very able judge of what was right.
At this school he did not receive so much benefit as was expected. It has been said, that he acted in the capacity of an assistant to Mr. Wentworth, in teaching the younger boys. 'Mr. Wentworth (he told me) was a very able man, but an idle man, and to me very severe; but I cannot blame him much. I was then a big boy; he saw I did not reverence him; and that he should get no honour by me. I had brought enough with me, to carry me through; and all I should get at his school would be ascribed to my own labour, or to my former master. Yet he taught me a great deal.'
He thus discriminated, to Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, his progress at his two grammar-schools. 'At one, I learnt much in the school, but little from the master; in the other, I learnt much from the master, but little in the school.'
The Bishop also informs me, that 'Dr. Johnson's father, before he was received at Stourbridge, applied to have him admitted as a scholar and assistant to the Reverend Samuel Lea, M.A., head master of Newport school, in Shropshire (a very diligent, good teacher, at that time in high reputation, under whom Mr. Hollis[160] is said, in the Memoirs of his Life, to have been also educated[161]). This application to Mr. Lea was not successful; but Johnson had afterwards the gratification to hear that the old gentleman, who lived to a very advanced age, mentioned it as one of the most memorable events of his life, that 'he was very near having that great man for his scholar.'
He remained at Stourbridge little more than a year, and then returned home, where he may be said to have loitered, for two years, in a state very unworthy his uncommon abilities. He had already given several proofs of his poetical genius, both in his school-exercises and in other occasional compositions. Of these I have obtained a considerable collection, by the favour of Mr. Wentworth, son of one of his masters, and of Mr. Hector, his school-fellow and friend; from which I select the following specimens:
[Page 51: Johnson's youthful compositions.]
Translation ofVIRGIL. Pastoral I.
Now, Tityrus, you, supine and careless laid,Play on your pipe beneath this beechen shade;While wretched we about the world must roam,And leave our pleasing fields and native home,Here at your ease you sing your amorous flame,And the wood rings with Amarillis' name.
Those blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd,For I shall never think him less than God;Oft on his altar shall my firstlings lie,Their blood the consecrated stones shall dye:He gave my flocks to graze the flowery meads,And me to tune at ease th' unequal reeds.
My admiration only I exprest,(No spark of envy harbours in my breast)That, when confusion o'er the country reigns,To you alone this happy state remains.Here I, though faint myself, must drive my goats,Far from their ancient fields and humble cots.This scarce I lead, who left on yonder rockTwo tender kids, the hopes of all the flock.Had we not been perverse and careless grown,This dire event by omens was foreshown;Our trees were blasted by the thunder stroke, )And left-hand crows, from an old hollow oak, )Foretold the coming evil by their dismal croak. )
Translation ofHORACE. Book I. Ode xxii.
The man, my friend, whose conscious heartWith virtue's sacred ardour glows,Nor taints with death the envenom'd dart,Nor needs the guard of Moorish bows:
Though Scythia's icy cliffs he treads,Or horrid Africk's faithless sands;Or where the fam'd Hydaspes spreadsHis liquid wealth o'er barbarous lands.
For while by Chloe's image charm'd,Too far in Sabine woods I stray'd;Me singing, careless and unarm'd,A grizly wolf surprised, and fled.
No savage more portentous stain'dApulia's spacious wilds with gore;No fiercer Juba's thirsty land,Dire nurse of raging lions, bore.
Place me where no soft summer galeAmong the quivering branches sighs;Where clouds condens'd for ever veilWith horrid gloom the frowning skies:
Place me beneath the burning line,A clime deny'd to human race;I'll sing of Chloe's charms divine,Her heav'nly voice, and beauteous face.
Translation ofHORACE. Book II. Ode ix.
Clouds do not always veil the skies,Nor showers immerse the verdant plain;Nor do the billows always rise,Or storms afflict the ruffled main.
Nor, Valgius, on th' Armenian shoresDo the chain'd waters always freeze;Not always furious Boreas roars,Or bends with violent force the trees.
But you are ever drown'd in tears,For Mystes dead you ever mourn;No setting Sol can ease your care,But finds you sad at his return.
The wise experienc'd Grecian sageMourn'd not Antilochus so long;Nor did King Priam's hoary ageSo much lament his slaughter'd son.
Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs,Augustus' numerous trophies sing;Repeat that prince's victories,To whom all nations tribute bring.
Niphates rolls an humbler wave,At length the undaunted Scythian yields,Content to live the Roman's slave,And scarce forsakes his native fields.
Translation of part of the Dialogue betweenHECTORandANDROMACHE;from the Sixth Book ofHOMER'S ILIAD.
She ceas'd: then godlike Hector answer'd kind,(His various plumage sporting in the wind)That post, and all the rest, shall be my care;But shall I, then, forsake the unfinished war?How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name!And one base action sully all my fame,Acquired by wounds and battles bravely fought!Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.Long since I learn'd to slight this fleeting breath,And view with cheerful eyes approaching deathThe inexorable sisters have decreedThat Priam's house, and Priam's self shall bleed:The day will come, in which proud Troy shall yield,And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field.Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age,Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage,Nor my brave brothers, that have bit the ground,Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound,Can in my bosom half that grief create,As the sad thought of your impending fate:When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,Mimick your tears, and ridicule your woes;Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy!Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs!Before that day, by some brave hero's handMay I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand.
To aYOUNG LADYon herBIRTH-DAY[162].
This tributary verse receive my fair,Warm with an ardent lover's fondest pray'r.May this returning day for ever findThy form more lovely, more adorn'd thy mind;All pains, all cares, may favouring heav'n remove,All but the sweet solicitudes of love!May powerful nature join with grateful art,To point each glance, and force it to the heart!O then, when conquered crouds confess thy sway,When ev'n proud wealth and prouder wit obey,My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust,Alas! 'tis hard for beauty to be just.Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ;Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy:With his own form acquaint the forward fool,Shewn in the faithful glass of ridicule;Teach mimick censure her own faults to find, )No more let coquettes to themselves be blind, )So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind. )
When first the peasant, long inclin'd to roam,Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home,Pleas'd with the scene the smiling ocean yields,He scorns the verdant meads and flow'ry fields:Then dances jocund o'er the watery way,While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play:Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll,And future millions lift his rising soul;In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine,And raptur'd sees the new-found ruby shine.Joys insincere! thick clouds invade the skies,Loud roar the billows, high the waves arise;Sick'ning with fear, he longs to view the shore,And vows to trust the faithless deep no more.So the young Authour, panting after fame,And the long honours of a lasting name,Entrusts his happiness to human kind,More false, more cruel, than the seas or wind.'Toil on, dull croud, in extacies he cries,For wealth or title, perishable prize;While I those transitory blessings scorn,Secure of praise from ages yet unborn.'This thought once form'd, all council comes too late,He flies to press, and hurries on his fate;Swiftly he sees the imagin'd laurels spread,And feels the unfading wreath surround his head.Warn'd by another's fate, vain youth be wise,Those dreams were Settle's[164] once, and Ogilby's[165]:The pamphlet spreads, incessant hisses rise,To some retreat the baffled writer flies;Where no sour criticks snarl, no sneers molest,Safe from the tart lampoon, and stinging jest;There begs of heaven a less distinguish'd lot,Glad to be hid, and proud to be forgot.
EPILOGUE,intended to have been spoken by aLADYwho was to personate the Ghost ofHERMIONE[166].
Ye blooming train, who give despair or joy,Bless with a smile, or with a frown destroy;In whose fair cheeks destructive Cupids wait,And with unerring shafts distribute fate;Whose snowy breasts, whose animated eyes,Each youth admires, though each admirer dies;Whilst you deride their pangs in barb'rous play, }Unpitying see them weep, and hear them pray, }And unrelenting sport ten thousand lives away; }For you, ye fair, I quit the gloomy plains;Where sable night in all her horrour reigns;No fragrant bowers, no delightful glades,Receive the unhappy ghosts of scornful maids.For kind, for tender nymphs the myrtle blooms,And weaves her bending boughs in pleasing glooms:Perennial roses deck each purple vale,And scents ambrosial breathe in every gale:Far hence are banish'd vapours, spleen, and tears,Tea, scandal, ivory teeth, and languid airs:No pug, nor favourite Cupid there enjoysThe balmy kiss, for which poor Thyrsis dies;Form'd to delight, they use no foreign arms,Nor torturing whalebones pinch them into charms;No conscious blushes there their cheeks inflame,For those who feel no guilt can know no shame;Unfaded still their former charms they shew,Around them pleasures wait, and joys for ever new.But cruel virgins meet severer fates;Expell'd and exil'd from the blissful seats,To dismal realms, and regions void of peace,Where furies ever howl, and serpents hiss.O'er the sad plains perpetual tempests sigh,And pois'nous vapours, black'ning all the sky,With livid hue the fairest face o'ercast,And every beauty withers at the blast:Where e'er they fly their lover's ghosts pursue,Inflicting all those ills which once they knew;Vexation, Fury, Jealousy, Despair,Vex ev'ry eye, and every bosom tear;Their foul deformities by all descry'd,No maid to flatter, and no paint to hide.Then melt, ye fair, while crouds around you sigh,Nor let disdain sit lowring in your eye;With pity soften every awful grace,And beauty smile auspicious in each face;To ease their pains exert your milder power,So shall you guiltless reign, and all mankind adore.'
[Page 57: His wide reading. ÆTAT. 19.]
The two years which he spent at home, after his return from Stourbridge, he passed in what he thought idleness[167], and was scolded by his father for his want of steady application[168]. He had no settled plan of life, nor looked forward at all, but merely lived from day to day. Yet he read a great deal in a desultory manner, without any scheme of study, as chance threw books in his way, and inclination directed him through them. He used to mention one curious instance of his casual reading, when but a boy. Having imagined that his brother had hid some apples behind a large folio upon an upper shelf in his father's shop, he climbed up to search for them. There were no apples; but the large folio proved to be Petrarch, whom he had seen mentioned in some preface, as one of the restorers of learning. His curiosity having been thus excited, he sat down with avidity, and read a great part of the book. What he read during these two years he told me, was not works of mere amusement, 'not voyages and travels, but all literature, Sir, all ancient writers, all manly: though but little Greek, only some of Anacreon and Hesiod; but in this irregular manner (added he) I had looked into a great many books, which were not commonly known at the Universities, where they seldom read any books but what are put into their hands by their tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. Adams, now master of Pembroke College, told me I was the best qualified for the University that he had ever known come there[169].'
In estimating the progress of his mind during these two years, as well as in future periods of his life, we must not regard his own hasty confession of idleness; for we see, when he explains himself, that he was acquiring various stores; and, indeed he himself concluded the account with saying, 'I would not have you think I was doing nothing then.' He might, perhaps, have studied more assiduously; but it may be doubted whether such a mind as his was not more enriched by roaming at large in the fields of literature than if it had been confined to any single spot. The analogy between body and mind is very general, and the parallel will hold as to their food, as well as any other particular. The flesh of animals who feed excursively, is allowed to have a higher flavour than that of those who are cooped up. May there not be the same difference between men who read as their taste prompts and men who are confined in cells and colleges to stated tasks?
[Page 58: Johnson enters Oxford. A.D. 1728.]
That a man in Mr. Michael Johnson's circumstances should think of sending his son to the expensive University of Oxford, at his own charge, seems very improbable. The subject was too delicate to question Johnson upon. But I have been assured by Dr. Taylor that the scheme never would have taken place had not a gentleman of Shropshire, one of his schoolfellows, spontaneously undertaken to support him at Oxford, in the character of his companion; though, in fact, he never received any assistance whatever from that gentleman[170].
He, however, went to Oxford, and was entered a Commoner of Pembroke College on the 31st of October, 1728[171], being then in his nineteenth year[172].
[Page 59: His first tutor. ÆTAT. 19.]
The Reverend Dr. Adams, who afterwards presided over Pembroke College with universal esteem, told me he was present, and gave me some account of what passed on the night of Johnson's arrival at Oxford[173]. On that evening, his father, who had anxiously accompanied him, found means to have him introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor. His being put under any tutor reminds us of what Wood says of Robert Burton, authour of the 'Anatomy of Melancholy,' when elected student of Christ Church: 'for form's sake,though he wanted not a tutor, he was put under the tuition of Dr. John Bancroft, afterwards Bishop of Oxon[174].'
His father seemed very full of the merits of his son, and told the company he was a good scholar, and a poet, and wrote Latin verses. His figure and manner appeared strange to them; but he behaved modestly, and sat silent, till upon something which occurred in the course of conversation, he suddenly struck in and quoted Macrobius; and thus he gave the first impression of that more extensive reading in which he had indulged himself.
His tutor, Mr. Jorden, fellow of Pembroke, was not, it seems, a man of such abilities as we should conceive requisite for the instructor of Samuel Johnson, who gave me the following account of him. 'He was a very worthy man, but a heavy man, and I did not profit much by his instructions. Indeed, I did not attend him much[175]. The first day after I came to college I waited upon him, and then staid away four. On the sixth, Mr. Jorden asked me why I had not attended. I answered I had been sliding in Christ-Church meadow[176]. And this I said with as much nonchalance as I am now[177] talking to you. I had no notion that I was wrong or irreverent to my tutor[178]. BOSWELL: 'That, Sir, was great fortitude of mind.' JOHNSON: 'No, Sir; stark insensibility[179].'
[Page 60: The fifth of November. A.D. 1728.]
The fifth of November[180] was at that time kept with great solemnity at Pembroke College, and exercises upon the subject of the day were required[181]. Johnson neglected to perform his, which is much to be regretted; for his vivacity of imagination, and force of language, would probably have produced something sublime upon the gunpowder plot[182]. To apologise for his neglect, he gave in a short copy of verses, entitled Somnium, containing a common thought; 'that the Muse had come to him in his sleep, and whispered, that it did not become him to write on such subjects as politicks; he should confine himself to humbler themes:' but the versification was truly Virgilian[183].
[Page 61: Johnson's version of Pope's Messiah. ÆTAT. 19.]
He had a love and respect for Jorden, not for his literature, but for his worth. 'Whenever (said he) a young man becomes Jorden's pupil, he becomes his son.'
Having given such a specimen of his poetical powers, he was asked by Mr. Jorden, to translate Pope's Messiah into Latin verse, as a Christmas exercise. He performed it with uncommon rapidity, and in so masterly a manner, that he obtained great applause from it, which ever after kept him high in the estimation of his College, and, indeed, of all the University[184].
It is said, that Mr. Pope expressed himself concerning it in terms of strong approbation[185]. Dr. Taylor told me, that it was first printed for old Mr. Johnson, without the knowledge of his son, who was very angry when he heard of it. A Miscellany of Poems collected by a person of the name of Husbands, was published at Oxford in 1731[186]. In that Miscellany Johnson's Translation of the Messiah appeared, with this modest motto from Scaliger's Poeticks.Ex alieno ingenio Poeta, ex suo tantum versificator.
[Page 62: Mr. Courtenays eulogy. A.D. 1728.]
I am not ignorant that critical objections have been made to this and other specimens of Johnson's Latin Poetry[187]. I acknowledge myself not competent to decide on a question of such extreme nicety. But I am satisfied with the just and discriminative eulogy pronounced upon it by my friend Mr, Courtenay.
'And with like ease his vivid lines assumeThe garb and dignity of ancient Rome.—Let collegeverse-mentrite 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 transfuseHis vigorous sense into the Latian muse;Aspir'd to shine by unreflected light,And with a Roman's ardourthinkand write.He felt the tuneful Nine his breast inspire,And, like a master, wak'd the soothing lyre:Horatian strains a grateful heart proclaim,While Sky's wild rocks resound his Thralia's name[188].Hesperia's plant, in some less skilful 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[189].'