Boswell's Life of Johnson
manner of writers, who are proud to account for every event which they
relate. He himself, however, says, 'The motives of my journey I hardly
know; I omitted it last year, and am not willing to miss it again.'
But some good considerations arise, amongst which is the kindly
recollection of Mr. Hector, surgeon at Birmingham: 'Hector is likewise
an old friend, the only companion of my childhood that passed through
the school with me. We have always loved one another; perhaps we may
be made better by some serious conversation, of which however I have no
distinct hope.' He says too, 'At Lichfield, my native place, I hope to
shew a good example by frequent attendance on publick worship.'
1782: AETAT. 73.]--In 1782, his complaints increased, and the history
of his life this year, is little more than a mournful recital of the
variations of his illness, in the midst of which, however, it will
appear from his letters, that the powers of his mind were in no degree
impaired.
At a time when he was less able than he had once been to sustain a
shock, he was suddenly deprived of Mr. Levett, which event he thus
communicated to Dr. Lawrence:--
'SIR,--Our old friend, Mr. Levett, who was last night eminently
cheerful, died this morning. The man who lay in the same room, hearing
an uncommon noise, got up and tried to make him speak, but without
effect, he then called Mr. Holder, the apothecary, who, though when he
came he thought him dead, opened a vein, but could draw no blood. So has
ended the long life of a very useful and very blameless man. I am, Sir,
your most humble servant,
'Jan. 17, 1782.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
In one of his memorandum-books in my possession, is the following
entry:--'January 20, Sunday. Robert Levett was buried in the church-yard
of Bridewell, between one and two in the afternoon. He died on Thursday
17, about seven in the morning, by an instantaneous death. He was an old
and faithful friend; I have known him from about 46. Commendavi. May GOD
have mercy on him. May he have mercy on me.'
On the 30th of August, I informed him that my honoured father had
died that morning; a complaint under which he had long laboured having
suddenly come to a crisis, while I was upon a visit at the seat of
Sir Charles Preston, from whence I had hastened the day before, upon
receiving a letter by express.
In answer to my next letter, I received one from him, dissuading me from
hastening to him as I had proposed; what is proper for publication
is the following paragraph, equally just and tender:--'One expence,
however, I would not have you to spare: let nothing be omitted that can
preserve Mrs. Boswell, though it should be necessary to transplant her
for a time into a softer climate. She is the prop and stay of your life.
How much must your children suffer by losing her.'
My wife was now so much convinced of his sincere friendship for me, and
regard for her, that, without any suggestion on my part, she wrote him a
very polite and grateful letter:--
'DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.
'DEAR LADY,--I have not often received so much pleasure as from your
invitation to Auchinleck. The journey thither and back is, indeed,
too great for the latter part of the year; but if my health were fully
recovered, I would suffer no little heat and cold, nor a wet or a rough
road to keep me from you. I am, indeed, not without hope of seeing
Auchinleek again; but to make it a pleasant place I must see its lady
well, and brisk, and airy. For my sake, therefore, among many greater
reasons, take care, dear Madam, of your health, spare no expence,
and want no attendance that can procure ease, or preserve it. Be very
careful to keep your mind quiet; and do not think it too much to give an
account of your recovery to, Madam, yours, &c.
'London, Sept. 7, 1782.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
The death of Mr. Thrale had made a very material alteration with respect
to Johnson's reception in that family. The manly authority of the
husband no longer curbed the lively exuberance of the lady; and as her
vanity had been fully gratified, by having the Colossus of Literature
attached to her for many years, she gradually became less assiduous to
please him. Whether her attachment to him was already divided by
another object, I am unable to ascertain; but it is plain that Johnson's
penetration was alive to her neglect or forced attention; for on the 6th
of October this year, we find him making a 'parting use of the library'
at Streatham, and pronouncing a prayer, which he composed on leaving Mr.
Thrale's family:--
'Almighty God, Father of all mercy, help me by thy grace, that I
may, with humble and sincere thankfulness, remember the comforts and
conveniences which I have enjoyed at this place; and that I may resign
them with holy submission, equally trusting in thy protection when thou
givest, and when thou takest away. Have mercy upon me, O Lord, have
mercy upon me.
'To thy fatherly protection, O Lord, I commend this family. Bless,
guide, and defend them, that they may so pass through this world,
as finally to enjoy in thy presence everlasting happiness, for Jesus
Christ's sake. Amen.'
One cannot read this prayer, without some emotions not very favourable
to the lady whose conduct occasioned it.
In one of his memorandum-books I find, 'Sunday, went to church at
Streatham. Templo valedixi cam osculo.'
He met Mr. Philip Metcalfe often at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, and other
places, and was a good deal with him at Brighthelmston this
autumn, being pleased at once with his excellent table and animated
conversation. Mr. Metcalfe shewed him great respect, and sent him a note
that he might have the use of his carriage whenever he pleased. Johnson
(3rd October, 1782) returned this polite answer:--'Mr. Johnson is very
much obliged by the kind offer of the carriage, but he has no desire of
using Mr. Metcalfe's carriage, except when he can have the pleasure of
Mr. Metcalfe's company.' Mr. Metcalfe could not but be highly pleased
that his company was thus valued by Johnson, and he frequently attended
him in airings. They also went together to Chichester, and they visited
Petworth, and Cowdry, the venerable seat of the Lords Montacute. 'Sir,
(said Johnson,) I should like to stay here four-and-twenty hours. We see
here how our ancestors lived.'
'TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
'DEAR SIR,--I heard yesterday of your late disorder, and should think
ill of myself if I had heard of it without alarm. I heard likewise of
your recovery, which I sincerely wish to be complete and permanent. Your
country has been in danger of losing one of its brightest ornaments, and
I of losing one of my oldest and kindest friends: but I hope you will
still live long, for the honour of the nation: and that more enjoyment
of your elegance, your intelligence, and your benevolence, is still
reserved for, dear Sir, your most affectionate, &c.
'Brighthelmston, Nov. 14, 1782.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
1783: AETAT. 74.]--In 1783, he was more severely afflicted than ever,
as will appear in the course of his correspondence; but still the same
ardour for literature, the same constant piety, the same kindness for
his friends, and the same vivacity both in conversation and writing,
distinguished him.
On Friday, March 21, having arrived in London the night before, I was
glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's house, in Argyll-street, appearances
of friendship between them being still kept up. I was shewn into his
room, and after the first salutation he said, 'I am glad you are come.
I am very ill.' He looked pale, and was distressed with a difficulty of
breathing; but after the common inquiries he assumed his usual strong
animated style of conversation. Seeing me now for the first time as a
Laird, or proprietor of land, he began thus: 'Sir, the superiority of a
country-gentleman over the people upon his estate is very agreeable; and
he who says he does not feel it to be agreeable, lies; for it must be
agreeable to have a casual superiority over those who are by nature
equal with us.' BOSWELL. 'Yet, Sir, we see great proprietors of land who
prefer living in London.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, the pleasure of living
in London, the intellectual superiority that is enjoyed there, may
counterbalance the other. Besides, Sir, a man may prefer the state
of the country-gentleman upon the whole, and yet there may never be a
moment when he is willing to make the change to quit London for it.'
He talked with regret and indignation of the factious opposition to
Government at this time, and imputed it in a great measure to the
Revolution. 'Sir, (said he, in a low voice, having come nearer to me,
while his old prejudices seemed to be fermenting in his mind,) this
Hanoverian family is isolee here. They have no friends. Now the Stuarts
had friends who stuck by them so late as 1745. When the right of the
King is not reverenced, there will not be reverence for those appointed
by the King.'
He repeated to me his verses on Mr. Levett, with an emotion which gave
them full effect; and then he was pleased to say, 'You must be as much
with me as you can. You have done me good. You cannot think how much
better I am since you came in.
He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I was arrived. I had not
seen her since her husband's death. She soon appeared, and favoured me
with an invitation to stay to dinner, which I accepted. There was no
other company but herself and three of her daughters, Dr. Johnson, and
I. She too said, she was very glad I was come, for she was going to
Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson before I came.
This seemed to be attentive and kind; and I who had not been informed
of any change, imagined all to be as well as formerly. He was little
inclined to talk at dinner, and went to sleep after it; but when he
joined us in the drawing-room, he seemed revived, and was again himself.
Talking of conversation, he said, 'There must, in the first place, be
knowledge, there must be materials; in the second place, there must be
a command of words; in the third place, there must be imagination, to
place things in such views as they are not commonly seen in; and in the
fourth place, there must be presence of mind, and a resolution that is
not to be overcome by failures: this last is an essential requisite; for
want of it many people do not excel in conversation. Now I want it: I
throw up the game upon losing a trick.' I wondered to hear him talk thus
of himself, and said, 'I don't know, Sir, how this may be; but I am sure
you beat other people's cards out of their hands.' I doubt whether he
heard this remark. While he went on talking triumphantly, I was fixed
in admiration, and said to Mrs. Thrale, 'O, for short-hand to take this
down!' 'You'll carry it all in your head, (said she;) a long head is as
good as short-hand.'
It has been observed and wondered at, that Mr. Charles Fox never talked
with any freedom in the presence of Dr. Johnson, though it is well
known, and I myself can witness, that his conversation is various,
fluent, and exceedingly agreeable. Johnson's own experience, however, of
that gentleman's reserve was a sufficient reason for his going on thus:
'Fox never talks in private company; not from any determination not to
talk, but because he has not the first motion. A man who is used to
the applause of the House of Commons, has no wish for that of a private
company. A man accustomed to throw for a thousand pounds, if set down to
throw for sixpence, would not be at the pains to count his dice. Burke's
talk is the ebullition of his mind; he does not talk from a desire of
distinction, but because his mind is full.'
After musing for some time, he said, 'I wonder how I should have any
enemies; for I do harm to nobody.' BOSWELL. 'In the first place, Sir,