Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson recollected another debt of ten pounds which he had borrowed from his friend Mr. Hamilton the printer, about twenty years before. He sent the money to Mr. Hamilton, at his house in Bedford-Row, with an apology for the length of time. The Reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his last.

amusement, or the pleasure of discussion, Criticism has endeavoured to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never seriously thought. His diary, which has been printed, discovers still more. We have before us the very heart of the man, with all his inward consciousness. And yet neither in the open paths of life, nor in his secret recesses, has any one vice been discovered. We see him reviewing every year of his life, and severely censuring himself for not keepMr. Sastress (whom Dr. Johnson esteemed ing resolutions, which morbid melancholy, and and mentioned in his will) entered the room other bodily infirmities, rendered impracticable. during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he We see him for every little defect imposing on saw him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a himself voluntary penance, going through the tone of lamentation, called out, JAM MORITU-day with only one cup of tea without milk, and RUS! But the love of life was still an active to the last, amidst paroxysms and remissions of principle. Feeling himself swelled with the illness, forming plans of study and resolutions dropsy, he conceived that by incisions in his to amend his life.* Many of his scruples may legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruik-be called weaknesses; but they are the weakshank apprehended that a mortification might nesses of a good, a pious and most excellent be the consequence; but, to appease a distem- man. pered fancy, he gently lanced the surface. Johnson cried out, "Deeper, deeper! I want length of life, and you are afraid of giving me pain, which I do not value."

On the 8th of December, the Reverend Mr. Strahan drew his will, by which, after a few legacies, the residue, amounting to about fifteen hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the black servant, formerly consigned to the testator by his friend Dr. Bathurst.

His person, it is well-known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were affected by that disorder, for which, at two years of age, he was presented to the royal touch. His head shook, and involuntary motions made it uncertain that his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, remain in their proper place. A person of Lord Chesterfield's delicacy might in his company be in a fever. He would sometimes of his own accord do things inconsistent with the establishThe history of a death-bed is painful. Mr. ed modes of behaviour. Sitting at table with Strahan informs us, that the strength of religion the celebrated Mrs. Cholmondeley, who exerted prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and herself to circulate the subscription for Shakhis foreboding dread of the Divine Justice sub-speare, he took hold of her hand in the middle sided into a pious trust and humble hope of of dinner, and held it close to his eye, wondering mercy at the Throne of Grace. On Monday at the delicacy and whiteness, till with a smile the 13th day of December (the last of his exist- she asked, "Will he give it to me again when ence on this side the grave,) the desire of life he has done with it?" The exteriors of politereturned with all its former vehemence. He ness did not belong to Johnson. Even that cistill imagined, that, by puncturing his legs re-vility which proceeds, or ought to proceed, from lief might be obtained. At eight in the morning he tried the experiment, but no water followed. In an hour or two after he fell into a doze, and about seven in the evening expired without a groan.

the mind, was sometimes violated. His morbid melancholy had an effect on his temper; his passions were irritable; and the pride of science, as well as of a fierce, independent spirit, inflamed him on some occasions above all bounds On the 20th of the month his remains, with of moderation. Though not in the shade of due solemnities, and a numerous attendance of academic bowers, he led a scholastic life; and his friends, were buried in Westminster Abbey, the habit of pronouncing decisions to his friends near the foot of Shakspeare's monument, and and visitors gave him a dictatorial manner, close to the grave of the late Mr. Garrick. The which was much enforced by a voice naturally funeral service was read by his friend Dr. Tay-loud, and often overstretched. Metaphysical lor.

A black marble over his grave has the following inscription:

SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D.
obiit XIII die Decembris,
Anno Domini

MDCCLXXXIV.

Etatis suæ LXXV.

If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnson was engaged, we may be able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an estimate of his genius.

As a man, Dr. Johnson stands displayed in open daylight. Nothing remains undiscovered. Whatever he said is known; and without allowing him the usual privilege of hazarding sentiments, and advancing positions, for mere

discussion, moral theory, systems of religion, and anecdotes of literature, were his favourite topics. General history had little of his regard. Biography was his delight. The proper study of mankind is man. Sooner than hear of the Punic war, he would be rude to the person that introduced the subject.

Johnson was born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logic are said to be of use. In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision both in idea and expression almost unequalled. When he chose by apt illustration to place the argument of his adversary in a lu

*On the subject of voluntary penance, see the Rambler, No. CX.

XXV

His piety, in

dicrous light, one was almost inclined to think | vainglory of superior vigour. ridicule the test of truth. He was surprised to be told, but it was certainly true, that, with great powers of mind, wit and humour were his shining talents. That he often argued for the sake of triumph over his adversary, cannot be dissembled. Dr. Rose, of Chiswick, has been heard to tell of a friend of his, who thanked him for introducing him to Dr. Johnson, as he had been convinced, in the course of a long dispute, that an opinion, which he had embraced as a settled truth, was no better than a vulgar error. This being reported to Johnson, "Nay," said he, "do not let him be thankful, for he was right, and I was wrong." Like his uncle Andrew, in the ring at Smithfield, Johnson, in a circle of disputants, was determined neither to be thrown nor conquered. Notwithstanding all his piety, seif-government, or the command of his passions in conversation, does not seem to have been among his attainments. Whenever he thought the contention was for superiority, he has been known to break out with violence, and even ferocity. When the fray was over, he generally softened into repentance, and, by conciliating measures, took care that no animosity should be left rankling in the breast of his antagonist. Of this defect he seems to have been conscious. In a letter to Mrs. Thrale, he says, "Poor Baretti! do not quarrel with him; to neglect him a little will be sufficient. He means only to be frank and manly, and independent, and perhaps, as you say a little wise. To be frank, he thinks, is to be cynical; and to be independent, is to be rude. Forgive him, dearest lady, the rather, because of his misbehaviour I am afraid he learned part of me. I hope to set him hereafter a better example." For his own intolerant and overbearing spirit he apologized by observing, that it had done some good; obscenity and impiety were repressed in his company.

some instances, bordered on superstition. He was willing to believe in preternatural agency, and thought it not more strange that there should be evil spirits than evil men. Even the question about second sight held him in suspense. "is a power of seeing images impressed on the "Second sight," Mr. Pennant tells us, organs of sight by the power of fancy, or on the fancy by the disordered spirits operating on the mind. It is the faculty of seeing spectres or visions, which represent an event actually passing at a distance, or likely to happen at a future day. In 1771, a gentleman, the last who was supposed to be possessed of this faculty, had a boat at sea in a tempestuous night, and, being anxious for his freight, suddenly started up, and said his men would be drowned, for he had seen them pass before him with wet garments and dripping locks. The event corresponded with his disordered fancy. And thus," continues Mr. Pennant, "a distempered imagination, clouded with anxiety, may make an impression on the spirits; as persons, restless and troubled with indignation, see various forms and figures while they lie awake in bed." This is what Dr. Johnson was not willing to reject. He wished for some positive proof of communications with another world. His benevolence embraced the whole race of man, and yet was tinctured with particular prejudices. He was pleased with the minister in the Isle of Sky, and loved him so much that he began to wish him not a Presbyterian. To that body of Dissenters his zeal for the Established Church made him in some degree an adversary; and his attachment to a mixed and limited Monarchy led him to declare open war against what he called a sullen Republican.

In

Oxford than of Cambridge. He disliked a He would rather praise a man of shades of his character, which it has been the Whig, and loved a Tory. These were the business of certain party-writers to represent in the darkest colours.

It was late in life before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than occasionally, with polite company. At Mr. Thrale's, he saw a constant succession of well-accomplished visitors. that society he began to wear off the rugged just conformity of our actions to the relations in Since virtue, or moral goodness, consists in a points of his own character. He saw the advan- which we stand to the Supreme Being and to tages of mutual civility, and endeavoured to profit our fellow creatures, where shall we find a man by the models before him. He aimed at what who has been, or endeavoured to be, more dilihas been called by Swift the lesser morals, and by gent in the discharge of those essential duties? Cicero minores virtutes. His endeavour, though His first prayer was composed in 1738; he connew and late, gave pleasure to all his acquaint- tinued those fervent ejaculations of piety to the ance. Men were glad to see that he was willing end of his life. In his Meditations we see him to be communicative on equal terms and recipro- scrutinizing himself with severity, and aiming cal complaisance. The time was then expect- at perfection unattainable by man. ed when he was to cease being what George his neighbour consisted in universal benevolence, His duty to Garrick, brother to the celebrated actor, called and a constant aim at the production of happihim the first time he heard him converse, "Aness. Who was more sincere and steady in his TREMENDOUS COMPANION." He certainly wished to be polite, and even thought himself so; but his civility still retained something uncouth and harsh. His manners took a milder tone, but the endeavour was too palpably seen. He laboured even in trifles. He was a giant gaining a purchase to lift a feather.

It is observed by the younger Pliny, that in the confines of virtue and great qualities there are generally vices of an opposite nature. In Dr. Johnson not one ingredient can take the name of vice. From his attainments in literature grew the pride of knowledge; and from his powers of reasoning, the love of disputation and the (d)

friendships? It has been said that there was no real affection between him and Garrick. On the part of the latter, there might be some corrosions of jealousy. The character of PROSPERO, in the Rambler, No. 200, was, beyond all question, occasioned by Garrick's ostentatious display of furniture and Dresden china. It was surely fair to take from this incident a hint for a moral essay; and though no more was intended, Garrick, we are told, remembered it with unea siness. He was also hurt that his Litchfield friend did not think so highly of his dramatic art as the rest of the world. The fact was, Johnson could not see the passions as they rose

Like Milton and Addison, he seems to have and chased one another in the varied features of that expressive face; and by his own manner been fond of his Latin poetry. Those compoof reciting verses, which was wonderfully im-sitions show that he was an early scholar; but pressive, he plainly showed that he thought his verses have not the graceful ease that gave there was too much of artificial tone and mea- so much suavity to the poems of Addison. The sured cadence in the declamation of the theatre. translation of the Messiah labours under two The present writer well remembers being in disadvantages; it is first to be compared with conversation with Dr. Johnson near the side of Pope's inimitable performance, and afterwards the scenes during the tragedy of King Lear: with the Pollio of Virgil. It may appear trifling when Garrick came off the stage, he said, to remark, that he has made the letter o, in the "You two talk so loud you destroy all my feel-word Virgo, long and short in the same line; do not Virgo, Virgo parit. But the translation has ings." "Prithee," replied Johnson, talk of feelings, Punch has no feelings." This great merit, and some admirable lines. In the seems to have been his settled opinion; admi- odes there is a sweet flexibility, particularly, To rable as Garrick's imitation of nature always his worthy friend Dr. Laurence; on himself at was, Johnson thought it no better than mere the theatre, March 8, 1771; the Ode in the Isle mimicry. Yet it is certain that he esteemed and of Sky; and that to Mrs. Thrale from the same loved Garrick; that he dwelt with pleasure on place. and used to declare, that he deserved His English poetry is such as leaves room to his praise; his great success, because on all applications think, if he had devoted himself to the Muses, for charity he gave more than was asked. Af- that he would have been the rival of Pope. His ter Garrick's death he never talked of him with- first production in this kind was London, a poem out a tear in his eye. He offered, if Mrs. Gar-in imitation of the third satire of Juvenal. The rick would desire it of him, to be the editor of vices of the metropolis are placed in the room of The author had heated his his works and the historian of his life.* It has ancient manners. been mentioned, that on his death-bed he mind with the ardour of Juvenal, and, having thought of writing a Latin inscription to the the skill to polish his numbers, he became a sharp memory of his friend. Numbers are still living accuser of the times. The Vanity of Human who know these facts, and still remember with Wishes is an imitation of the tenth Satire of the gratitude the friendship which he showed to same author. Though it is translated by Drythem with unaltered affection for a number of den, Johnson's imitation approaches nearest to years. His humanity and generosity, in pro- the spirit of the original. The subject is taken portion to his slender income were unbounded. from the Alcibiades of Plato and has an interIt has been truly said, that the lame, the blind, mixture of the sentiments of Socrates concerning and the sorrowful, found in his house a sure re-the object of prayers offered up to the Deity. The treat. A strict adherence to truth he considered as a sacred obligation, insomuch that, in relating the most minute anecdote, he would not allow himself the smallest addition to embellish his story. The late Mr. Tyers, who knew Dr. Johnson intimately, observed, "that he always talked as if he was talking upon oath."

After a long acquaintance with this excellent man, and an attentive retrospect to his whole conduct, such is the light in which he appears to the writer of this essay. The following lines of Horace may be deemed his picture in miniature.

Iracundior est paulo, minus aptus acutis
Naribus horum hominum, rideri possit, eo quod
Rusticius tonso toga defluit, et male laxus

In pede calceus hæret; at est bonus, ut melior vir
Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus, at ingenium ingens,
Inculto latet hoc sub corpore.

"Your friend is passionate, perhaps unfit

For the brisk petulance of modern wit.
His hair ill-cut, his robe that awkward flows,
Or his large shoes, to raillery expose
The man you love; yet is he not possess'd
Of virtues, with which very few are bless'd?
While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise,
A genius of extensive knowledge lies."

FRANCIS' HOR. Book. i. Sat. 3.

It remains to give a review of Johnson's works; and this, it is imagined, will not be unwelcome to the reader.

*It is to be regretted that he was not encouraged in this undertaking. The assistance, however, which he gave to Davies, in writing the Life of Garrick, has been acknowledged in general terms by that writer, and from the evidence of style, appears to have been very conside

rable. C.

general proposition is, that good and evil are so
little understood by mankind, that their wishes
when granted are always destructive. This is
exemplified in a variety of instances, such as
riches, state preferment, eloquence, military glo-
ry, long life, and the advantages of form and
beauty. Juvenal's conclusion is worthy of a
Christian poet, and such a pen as Johnson's.
"Let us," he says, "leave it to the gods to judge
Man is dearer to his Cre-
what is fittest for us.
ator than to himself. If we must pray for spe-
cial favour, let it be for a sound mind in a sound
body. Let us pray for fortitude, that we may
think the labours of Hercules and all his suffer-
ings preferable to a life of luxury and the soft
This is a blessing
repose of Sardanapalus.
within the reach of every man; this we can give
ourselves. It is virtue, and virtue only, that can
make us happy." In the translation the zeal of
the Christian conspired with the warmth and
energy of the poet; but Juvenal is not eclipsed.
For the various characters in the original, the
reader is pleased, in the English poem, to meet
with Cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham stabbed by
Felton, Lord Strafford, Clarendon, Charles XII.
of Sweden; and for Tully and Demosthenes,
Lydiat, Galileo, and Archbishop Laud. It is
owing to Johnson's delight in biography that the
name of Lydiat is called forth from obscurity. It
may, therefore, not be useless to tell, that Lydiat
was a learned divine and mathematician in the
beginning of the last century. He attacked the
doctrine of Aristotle and Scaliger, and wrote a
number of sermons on the harmony of the Evan-
gelists. With all his merit, he lay in the prison
of Bocardo at Oxford, till Bishop Usher, Laud,
and others paid his debts. He petitioned Charles

I. to be sent to Ethiopia to procure manuscripts. | in the disasters of their country; a race of men,
Having spoken in favour of monarchy and bi- quibus nulla ex honesto spes.
shops, he was plundered by the Puritans, and
twice carried away a prisoner from his rectory.
He died very poor in 1646.

These are British sentiments. Above forty years ago they found an echo in the breast of applauding audiences; and to this hour they are the voice of the people, in defiance of the metaphysics and the new lights of certain politicians, nal evidence that it is not Johnson's, is very strong, partiwho would gladly find their private advantage | cularly in the line "But how the devil," &c.

1

It is remarkable that the pomp of diction, | imagination, alive to the first objects of nature which has been objected to Johnson, was first and of art. He reaches the sublime without assumed in the Rambler. His Dictionary was any apparent effort. When he tells us, "If we going on at the same time, and, in the course of consider the fixed stars as so many oceans of that work, as he grew familiar with technical flame, that are each of them attended with a difand scholastic words, he thought that the bulk ferent set of planets; if we still discover new of his readers were equally learned; or at least firmaments and new lights that are sunk further would admire the splendour and dignity of the in those unfathomable depths of æther, we are style. And yet it is well known that he praised lost in a labyrinth of suns and worlds, and conin Cowley the easy and unaffected structure of founded with the magnificence and immensity the sentences. Cowley may be placed at the of nature;" the ease with which this passage head of those who cultivated a clear and natural rises to unaffected grandeur, is the secret charm style. Dryden, Tillotson, and Sir William that captivates the reader. Johnson is always Temple, followed. Addison, Swift, and Pope, lofty; he seems, to use Dryden's phrase, to be with more correctness, carried our language o'er-informed with meaning, and his words do well nigh to perfection. Of Addison, Johnson not appear to himself adequate to his conception. was used to say, He is the Raphael of Essay He moves in state, and his periods are always Writers. How he differed so widely from such harmonious. His Oriental Tales are in the true elegant models is a problem not to be solved, style of Eastern magnificence, and yet none of unless it be true that he took an early tincture them are so much admired as the Visions of from the writers of the last century, particularly Mirza. In matters of criticism, Johnson is neSir Thomas Browne. Hence the peculiarities ver the echo of preceding writers. He thinks of his style, new combinations, sentences of an and decides for himself. If we except the Esunusual structure, and words derived from the says on the Pleasures of Imagination, Addison learned languages. His own account of the cannot be called a philosophical critic. His momatter is, "When common words were less ral Essays are beautiful: but in that province pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signi- nothing can exceed the Rambler, though Johnfication, I familiarized the terms of philosophy, son used to say, that the Essay on The burthens by applying them to popular ideas." but he for- of mankind (in the Spectator No. 558) was the got the observation of Dryden: If too many fo- most exquisite he had ever read. Talking of reign words are poured in upon us, it looks as if himself, Johnson said, "Topham Beauclerk has they were designed, not to assist the natives, but to wit, and every thing comes from him with ease; conquer them. There is, it must be admitted, a but when I say a good thing I seem to labour." swell of language, often out of all proportion to When we compare him with Addison, the conthe sentiment; but there is, in general, a fulness trast is still stronger. Addison lends grace and of mind, and the thought seems to expand with ornament to truth: Johnson gives it force and the sound of the words. Determined to discard energy. Addison makes virtue amiable; Johncolloquial barbarisms and licentious idioms, he son represents it as an awful duty. Addison inforgot the elegant simplicity that distinguishes sinuates himself with an air of modesty; Johnthe writings of Addison. He had what Locke son commands like a dictator; but a dictator in calls a round-about view of his subject; and his splendid robes, not labouring at the plough. though he was never tainted, like many modern Addison is the Jupiter of Virgil, with placid sewits, with the ambition of shining in paradox, renity talking to Venus: he may be fairly called an ORIGINAL THINKER. His reading was extensive. He treasured in his "Vultu, quo cœlum tempestatesque serenat." mind whatever was worthy of notice, but he Johnson is Jupiter tonans: he darts his lightadded to it from his own meditation. He col-ning, and rolls his thunder, in the cause of virtue lected, quæ reconderet, auctaque promeret. Addison was not so profound a thinker. He was born to write, converse, and live with ease; and he found an early patron in Lord Somers. He depended, however, more upon a fine taste than the vigour of his mind. His Latin poetry shows, that he relished, with a just selection, all the refined and delicate beauties of the Roman classics; and when he cultivated his native language, no wonder that he formed that graceful style, which has been so justly admired; simple, yet elegant; adorned, yet never overwrought; rich in allusion, yet pure and perspicuous; correct, without labour; and though sometimes deficient in strength, yet always musical. His essays, in general, are on the surface of life; if ever original, it was in pieces of humour. Sir Roger de Coverly, and the Tory Fox-hunter, need not to be mentioned. Johnson had a fund of humour, but he did not know it: nor was he willing to descend to the familiar idiom and the variety of diction which that mode of composition required. The letter, in the Rambler, No. 12, from a young girl that wants a place, will illustrate this observation. Addison possessed an unclouded

and piety. The language seems to fall short of ideas; he pours along, familiarizing the terms of philosophy, with bold inversions, and sonorous periods; but we may apply to him what Pope has said of Homer: "It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it; like glass in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, as the breath within is more powerful, and the heat more intense."

It is not the design of this comparison to decide between these two eminent writers. In matters of taste every reader will choose for himself. Johnson is always profound, and of course gives the fatigue of thinking. Addison charms while he instructs; and writing, as he always does, a pure, an elegant and idiomatic style, he may be pronounced the safest model for imitation.

The essays written by Johnson in the Adventurer may be called a continuation of the Rambler. The Idler, in order to be consistent with the assumed character, is written with abated vigour, in a style of ease and unlaboured elegance. It is the Odyssey after the Illiad. In