published, Lord Chesterfield endeavored to influence Johnson to dedicate it to himself, and for this purpose he wrote two numbers, in a periodical paper, The World," highly complimentary cf Johnson's learning and labors. John son was of course highly indignant,1 and addressed to him the following letser, which, for the polish of its style, the elegance of its language, the keenness of its sarcasm, its manly disdain, and the condensed vigor of its thought, is, perhaps, unequalled in English literature. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE EAL OF CHESTERFIELD. MY LORD: I have been lately informed, by the proprietor of The World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished, is an honor, which, being very little accustomed to favors from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. When upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address; and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself Le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre ; — that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. In the deep mines of science, though Frenchmen may toil, Can their strength be compared to Locke, Newton, and Boyle! Has beat FORTY French, and will beat forty more!" 1 In his anger he exclaimed to his friend Garrick, "I have sailed a long and painful voyage round the world of the English language; and does he now send out two cock boats to tow me into harbor * The conqueror of the conqueror of the world. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached the ground, encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labors, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and can not enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself. Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, My Lord, Your Lordship's most humble, SAMUEL JOHNSON. In the few years succeeding the publication of his "Dictionary," he em ployed himself in an edition of Shakspeare, and gave to the world another periodical paper entitled "The Idler." In the former, when appeared in 1765, the public were very much disappointed; for though the preface was written in a style unsurpassed for its beauty and strength, and showed that he well knew the duties and requirements of a commentator upon the great dramatic poet, his annotations showed that he had not that critical knowledge of the writers of the times of Shakspeare and antecedent thereto, which is requisite properly to elucidate the bard. In 1759 he appeared in a new character, that of a Novelist, in the publication of his "Rasselas," which was written to defray the expenses of his mother's funeral. In 1762 he was relieved from pecuniary anxiety by a pension of £300 a year, granted to him in consideration of the happy influence of his writings; for Lord Bute expressly told him, on his accepting the bounty, that it was given him not for any thing he was to do, bu. for what he had done. In the next year, 1763, he was introduced to his biographer, James Bos weil, and we have, from this date, a fuller account of him, perhaps, than was ever written of any other individual. From this time we are made as fa 1 There is pretty good evidence that Johnson, after the first ebullition of temper had subsided, felt that he had been unreasonably violent in addressing this letter to Chesterfield; and that his lordship was not to blame for not sooner noticing Johnson's great work. Indeed the "notice," for any useful purpose, could not have been earlier. Consult-Croker's "new and revised" edition of Boswell's Johnson, 1 vol. 8vo., pp. 85, 86-a most admirable book, and one which probably contains more interesting and valuable literary information than any other volume of equal size in the language. "The most triumphant record of the talents and character of Johnson is to be found in Boswell's life of him. The man was superior to the author. When he threw aside his pen, which he regarded as an encumbrance, he became not only learned and thoughtful, but acute, witty, humorous, natural, bonest; hearty and determined, the king of good fellows and wale of old men.' There are as many miliar, as it is in the power of writing to make us, with the character, tho habits, and the appearance of Johnson, and the persons and things with which he is connected. "Every thing about him," says an able critic,1 "his coat, his wig, his figure, his rolling walk, his blinking eye, the outward signs which too clearly marked the approbation of his dinner, his insatiable appetite for fish sauce, and veal pie with plums, his inextinguishable thirst for tea, his trick of touching the posts as he walked, his mysterious practice of treasuring up scraps of orange peel, his morning slumbers, his midnight disputations, his contortions, his mutterings, his gruntings, his puffings, his vigorous, acute, and ready eloquence; his sarcastic wit, his vehemence, his insolence, his fits of tempestuous rage, his queer inmates-old Mr. Levett and blind Mrs. Williams, the cat Hodge, and the negro Frank--all are as familiar to us as the objects by which we have been surrounded." In 1773, in company with Mr. Boswell, he made a tour to the Western Islands of Scotland, of which he published an interesting and instructive account. In it he pronounces decidedly against the authenticity of the poems called "Ossian's." The last of his literary labors was his "Lives of the Poets," which were completed in 1781. Though it is a work that, on the whole, is justly considered as one of the ablest contributions to English biography, it must be read with great caution; for the criticisms of Johnson are too often biased by his strong political, religious, and even personal antipathics, as is clearly evinced in the gross injustice he has done to the two greatest poets of the series-Milton3 and Gray. "His indiscriminate hatred of Whig principles; his detestation of blank verse; his dislike of pastoral, lyric, and descriptive poetry; his total want of enthusiasm; and his perpetual efforts to veil the splendor of genius, are frequently lost in the admiration which the blaze and vigor of his intellectual powers so strongly excite. This is, in fact, the work in which the excellencies and defects of Johnson are placed before the reader with their full prominence; in which the lovers of philology and biography, the friends of moral and ethic wisdom, will find smart repartees, profound remarks, and keen invectives to be found in Boswell's 'Inventory of all he said,' as are recorded of any celebrated man. The life and dramatic play of his conversation form a contrast to his written works. His natural powers and undisguised opinions were called out in convivial intercourse. In public, he practised with the foils: in private, he unsheathed the sword of controversy, and it was 'the Ebro's temper.' The eagerness of opposition roused him from his natural sluggishness and acquired timidity; he returned blow for blow; and whether the trial were of argument or wit, none of his rivals could boast much of the encounter. Burke seems to have been the only person who had a chance with him; and it is the unpardonable sin of Boswell's work, that he has purposely omitted their combats of strength and skill. Goldsmith asked, 'Does he wind into a subject like a serpent, as Burke does? And when exhausted with sickness, he himself said, 'If that fellow Burke were here now, he would kill me.'"-Hazlitt's English Comic Writers. 1 Read-the article in the 53d vol. of the Edinburgh Review, or in Macaulay's Miscellanies, vol. ii. p. 11: also an article, "Johnson and his Biographers," in the 46th vol. of the Quarterly: also, par ticularly, the new edition of Croker's Boswell, in one large octavo-an invaluable work; Murphy's Life, in the Preface to his Works; a "Memoir" by Sir Walter Scott, in the third volume of his Prose Works; and the "Literary Life of Dr. Johnson," in the 4th vol. of Drake's Essays. 2 "No man can entertain a higher idea of Johnson's intellectual powers as a lexicographer, a teacher, and a moralist, than myself; but poetical criticism was not his province; and though m point of style his 'Lives' be superior, perhaps, to any of his preceding compositions, they are infinitely more disgraced by the inexorable partialities of the man."-Drake's "Literary Hours," i. 221 Read, also, a fine article on Johnson in Sir Egerton Brydges's "Imaginative Biography," ii. 251. 8 What greater contrast can we conceive than that exhibited in the characters of Milton and Johnson; in the former of whom so predominated the imaginative and the spiritual; in the latter, the sensuous and the animal. much to applaud; but in which also the disciples of candor and impartiality, the votaries of creative fancy and of genuine poetry, will have much to regret and much to condemn." Scarcely had he finished his "Lives of the Poets," when in May, 1781, he lost his long-tried friend Mr. Thrale, in whose house he had been a constant resident for fifteen years: and the next year deprived him of his old and faithful friend Dr. Robert Levett, upon whose character he wrote the beautiful and touching verses which do so much honor to his heart. But his own end was drawing near. In June, 1783, he had a paralytic stroke, which for some hours deprived him of the power of speech. From this, however, he recovered, but towards the end of the year he was seized with a violent fit of asthma, accompanied with dropsical swellings of the legs. These affec tions subsided by the beginning of the next year; but towards the autumn they so increased, that all hopes of his recovery were at an end. He had always entertained a great dread of death, and his hours of health were im bittered by his apprehensions of dissolution. But when he saw his end actu ally approaching, he became entirely resigned, strong in his faith in Christ, joyful in the hope of his own salvation, and anxious for the salvation of his friends.2 "On the evening of the 13th of December, 1784, and in the 75th year of his age, he expired so calmly, that the persons who were sitting in the room only knew that he had ceased to breathe, by the sudden failure of the sound which had for some days accompanied his respiration." The great characteristic of Dr. Johnson was uncommon vigor and logical precision of intellect. His reasoning was sound, dexterous, and acute; his thoughts striking and original; and his imagination vivid. In conversation his style was keen and pointed, and his language appropriate; and he displayed such a comprehensive view of his subject, such accuracy of percep tion, such lucidity of discrimination, and such facility of illustration, as to throw light upon every question, however intricate, and to prove the best of all prac tical guides in the customary occurrences of life. Besides these great qualities, he possessed others of a most humiliating littleness. In many respects he seemed a different person at different times. He was intolerant of particular principles, which he would not allow to be discussed within his hearing; of particular nations, and particular individuals He was superstitious; and his mind was at an early period narrowed upon many questions, religious and political. He was open to flattery, hard to please, easy to offend, impetuous and irritable. "The characteristic peculiarity of Johnson's intellect," says a writer in the Edinburgh Review, "was the union of great powers with low prejudices. If we judged of him by the best parts of his mind, we should place him almost as high as he was placed by the idolatry of Boswell; if by the worst parts of his mind, we should place him even below Boswell himself." This short and imperfect view of his character would convey a wrong impression, did we not add, that he was steady and inflexible in maintaining the obligations of religion, a sincere and zealous Christian, and possessed of a most kind and benevolent heart.3 1 This Dr. Levett "was the constant companion of Johnson at his morning's meal for near forty years. He was a practitioner of physic among the lower orders of people in London: his fees were small, but his business was extensive, and he always walked. This good man lived in great obscu rity, though continually and most conscientiously employed in mitigating the sorrows of poverty and disease." ? On nis dying bed, he particularly exhorted Sir Joshua Reynolds "to read the Bible, and to keep holy the Sabbath-day;" that is, not to paint on that day. The Earl of Eglintoune, of remarkable elegance of manners, once remarked at a supper party THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. 'Life," says Seneca, "is a voyage, in the progress of which we are perpetually changing our scenes; we first leave childhood behind us, then youth, then the years of ripened manhood, then the better and more pleasing part of old age." The perusal of this passage having incited in me a train of reflections on the state of man, the incessant fluctuation of his wishes, the gradual change of his disposition to all external objects, and the thoughtlessness with which he floats along the stream of time, I sunk into a slumber amidst my meditations; and, on a sudden, found my ears filled with the tumult of labor, the shouts of alacrity, the shrieks of alarm, the whistle of winds, and the dash of waters. My astonishment for a time repressed my curiosity; but soon recovering myself so far as to inquire whither we were going, and what was the cause of such clamor and confusion, I was told that they were launching out into the ocean of life; that we had already passed the straits of infancy, in which multitudes had perished, some by the weakness and fragility of their vessels, and more by the folly, perverseness, or negligence of those who undertook to steer them; and that we were now on the main sea, abandoned to the winds and billows, without any other means of security than the care of the pilot, whom it was always in our power to choose among great numbers that offered their direction and assistance. I then looked round with anxious eagerness; and first turning my eyes behind me, saw a stream flowing through flowery islands, which every one that sailed along seemed to behold with pleasure; but no sooner touched, than the current, which, though not noisy or turbulent, was yet irresistible, bore him away. Beyond these islands all was darkness, nor could any of the passengers describe the shore at which he first embarked. Before me, and on each side, was an expanse of waters violently agitated, and covered with so thick a mist, that the most perspicacious eye could see but a little way. It appeared to be full of rocks and whirlpools, for many sunk unexpectedly while they were courting the gale with full sails, and insulting those whom they had left behind. So numerous, indeed, were the dangers, and so thick the darkness, that no caution could confer security. Yet there were many, who, by false intelligence, be at Boswell's, that he regretted that Johnson had not been educated with more refinement and lived more in polished society. "No, no, my lord," said Baretti, "do with him what you would, he would always have been a bear." "True," answered the Earl with a smile, "but then he would have been a dancing bear." "To obviate all the reflections which have gone round the world to Johnson's prejudice, by apply. ing to him the epithet of a bear, let me impress upon my readers a just and happy saying of my friend Goldsmith, who knew him well:-'Johnson, to be sure, has a roughness in his manner; but no man alive has a more tender heart. HE HAS NOTHING OF THE BEAR BUT HIS SKIN.'"-Boswel |