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JOHNSON'S CANDOUR.

Sir Joshua Reynolds praised Mudge's Sermons.

JOHNSON: "Mudge's Sermons are good, but not practical. He grasps more sense than he can hold; he takes more corn than he can make into meal; he opens a wide prospect, but it is so distant, it is indistinct. I love Blair's Sermons.' Though the dog is a Scotchman, and a Presbyterian, and everything he should not be, I was the first to praise them. Such was my candour " (smiling).-MRS. BOSCAWEN: "Such his great merit, to get the better of all your prejudices."-JOHNSON: "Why, Madam, let us compound the matter; let us ascribe it to my candour and his merit."

The Doctor, on more occasions than one, laid claim to the possession of great candour. "Well, Sir," said a friend to him one day, "I will always say that you are a very candid man.”

Will you?" replied the Doctor; "I doubt then you will be very singular. But indeed, Sir," continued he, "I look upon myself to be a man very much misunderstood. I am not an uncandid, nor am I a severe man. I sometimes say more than I mean, in jest : and people are apt to believe me serious: however, I am more candid than I was when I was younger. As I know more of mankind, I expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a good man, upon easier terms than I was formerly."

Here is a fine instance of the Doctor's candour in action. A gentleman and he had a sharp debate at a late hour one evening: the Doctor was on the wrong side, and, though he seemed more than half-conscious of the fact, would not give in. But, next morning, when the combatants of the evening before met in the breakfast-room, Johnson went up to the other and said: “Sir, I have been thinking over our dispute last night-you were in the right."

But the immortal part of that evening at Mrs. Garrick's is here. Talking of a very respectable author, the Doctor told the company that he had married a printer's devil.

REYNOLDS: "A printer's devil, Sir! Why, I thought a printer's devil was a creature with a black face and in rags."-JOHNSON: "Yes, Sir. But I suppose he had her face washed, and put clean clothes on her. [Then, looking very serious and very

TENDER MEMORIES.

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earnest.] And she did not disgrace him:-the woman had a bottom of good sense." The word we have italicised, coming in such a connection, tickled the company's sense of fun quite to the laughing-point. A Reverend Bishop who was present did indeed keep his countenance, as became his calling; but Mrs. Hannah More had to hide her face behind another lady's back and have her titter out freely under cover. This was not to be endu ed by our solemn Doctor. "Where's the merriment?" he cried. "I say the woman was fundamentally sensible." The audience was silent as death.

At the close of the evening Boswell and the Doctor left the house together. Stopping for a moment by the rails of the Adelphi, looking on the Thames, the former said, with some emotion: "I am now thinking of two friends we have lost, who once lived in the buildings behind us-Beauclerk and Garrick.”— JOHNSON [tenderly]: "Ay, Sir, and two such friends as cannot be supplied."

"Nature repairs her ravages-repairs them with her sunshine, and with human labour. Nature repairs her ravages-but

not all. The uptorn trees are not rooted again; the parted hills are left scarred. If there is a new growth, the trees are not the same as the old, and the hills underneath their green vesture bear the marks of the past rending. To the eyes that have dwelt on the past, there is no thorough repair."

CC

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AT LUTON HOE.

CHAPTER XL.

JOHNSON REVISITS SCENES OF YOUTH-DEATH

-ELEGY-SICK AT HEART.

(1781-1782.)

OF MR. LEVETT

THE first few days of June the Doctor passed in a visit to Bedfordshire, to Squire Dilly the elder, brother of his friends the booksellers in the Poultry. This visit was varied by an excursion to Luton Hoe, the magnificent seat of Lord Bute. When shown the botanical garden, the Doctor asked, "Is not every garden a botanical garden ?" When told that there was a shrubbery to the extent of several miles: "That is making a very foolish use of the ground: a little of it is very well." When it was proposed that they should walk on the pleasure-ground: "Don't let us fatigue ourselves. Why should we walk there? Here's a fine tree, let's get to the top of it." But upon the whole he was very much pleased. He said, "This is one of the places I do not regret having come to see. It is a very stately place indeed; in the house magnificence is not sacrificed for convenience, nor convenience to magnificence. The library is very splendid; the dignity of the rooms is very great; and the quantity of pictures is beyond expectation-beyond hope."

On the fifth of June Johnson returned to London, having spent two or three very pleasant days in this country ramble. Rural nature never threw the Doctor into raptures; but he enjoyed it nevertheless in his own way-though he took a kind of wicked delight in concealing his satisfaction.

"DEAR SIR,

RESOLUTIONS.

TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.

“June 23, 1781.

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"It was not before yesterday that I received your splendid benefaction. To a hand so liberal in distributing I hope nobody will envy the power of acquiring.

"I am, dear Sir,

"Your obliged

"And most humble servant,

"SAM. JOHNSON."

Johnson's own liberality to the distressed was extraordinary; he gave largely and made no fuss about it: it was neither his creed nor his practice to shed maudlin tears over misery and want, but, in a prompt manly way, he was constantly soothing the one and relieving the other. And he would beg, too, from his friends when his own pockets were empty-as appears from the letter just quoted.

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Yet, when not called upon to give, a strong desire to keep would at times get the better of him. Boswell confessed to him one day that he "was occasionally troubled with a fit of narrowness." "Why, Sir," said Johnson, so am I, but I do not tell it." He would now and then borrow a shilling from his friend, and, when asked for it again, would seem rather out of humour. Once he said, "Boswell, lend me sixpence-not to be repaid." Johnson's is one of the richest characters on record.

“August 9, 3 p.m. ætat. 72, in the summer-house at Streatham. "After innumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I have retired hither, to plan a life of great diligence, in hope that I may yet be useful, and be daily better prepared to appear before my Creator and my Judge, from whose infinite mercy I humbly call for assistance and support.

"My purpose is,

"To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment. "Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks upon the Italian language, for my settled study."

388

A SAD LETTER.

In the autumn he went to Oxford, Birmingham, Lichfield, and Ashbourne: "The motives of my journey I hardly know; I omitted it last year, and am not willing to miss it again." But he goes on to evolve out of his consciousness sufficient reasons for this impulse to visit his native place once more: "Hector is likewise an old friend, the only companion of my childhood that passed through 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." And again: "At Lichfield, my native place, I hope to show a good example by frequent attendance on public worship."

The old man had better go, reason or no reason; for the time is short.

"DEAR SIR,

"TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

"January 5, 1782.

"I sit down to answer your letter on the same day in which I received it, and am pleased that my first letter of the year is to you. No man ought to be at ease while he knows himself in the wrong; and I have not satisfied myself with my long silence. The letter relating to Mr. Sinclair, however, was, I believe, never brought.

"My health has been tottering this last year; and I can give no very laudable account of my time. I am always hoping to do better than I have ever hitherto done.

"My journey to Ashbourne and Staffordshire was not pleasant; for what enjoyment has a sick man visiting the sick? Shall we ever have another frolic like our journey to the Hebrides?

"I hope that dear Mrs. Boswell will surmount her complaints. In losing her you will lose your anchor, and be tost, without stability, by the waves of life. I wish both her and you very many years, and very happy.

"For some months past I have been so withdrawn from the world, that I can send you nothing particular. All your friends, however, are well, and will be glad of your return to London.

"I am, dear Sir,

"Yours most affectionately,

"SAM. JOHNSON."