Life of Johnson by James Boswell
Page 34
Feeling very soon, that the manner in which he had written might
hurt me, he two days afterwards, July 28, wrote to me again, giving
me an account of his sufferings; after which, he thus proceeds:--
'Before this letter, you will have had one which I hope you will
not take amiss; for it contains only truth, and that truth kindly
intended. . . . Spartam quam nactus es orna; make the most and
best of your lot, and compare yourself not with the few that are
above you, but with the multitudes which are below you.'
Yet it was not a little painful to me to find, that . . . he still
persevered in arraigning me as before, which was strange in him who
had so much experience of what I suffered. I, however, wrote to
him two as kind letters as I could; the last of which came too late
to be read by him, for his illness encreased more rapidly upon him
than I had apprehended; but I had the consolation of being informed
that he spoke of me on his death-bed, with affection, and I look
forward with humble hope of renewing our friendship in a better
world.
Soon after Johnson's return to the metropolis, both the asthma and
dropsy became more violent and distressful.
During his sleepless nights he amused himself by translating into
Latin verse, from the Greek, many of the epigrams in the
Anthologia. These translations, with some other poems by him in
Latin, he gave to his friend Mr. Langton, who, having added a few
notes, sold them to the booksellers for a small sum, to be given to
some of Johnson's relations, which was accordingly done; and they
are printed in the collection of his works.
A very erroneous notion has circulated as to Johnson's deficiency
in the knowledge of the Greek language, partly owing to the modesty
with which, from knowing how much there was to be learnt, he used
to mention his own comparative acquisitions. When Mr. Cumberland
talked to him of the Greek fragments which are so well illustrated
in The Observer, and of the Greek dramatists in general, he
candidly acknowledged his insufficiency in that particular branch
of Greek literature. Yet it may be said, that though not a great,
he was a good Greek scholar. Dr. Charles Burney, the younger, who
is universally acknowledged by the best judges to be one of the few
men of this age who are very eminent for their skill in that noble
language, has assured me, that Johnson could give a Greek word for
almost every English one; and that although not sufficiently
conversant in the niceties of the language, he upon some occasions
discovered, even in these, a considerable degree of critical
acumen. Mr. Dalzel, Professor of Greek at Edinburgh, whose skill
in it is unquestionable, mentioned to me, in very liberal terms,
the impression which was made upon him by Johnson, in a
conversation which they had in London concerning that language. As
Johnson, therefore, was undoubtedly one of the first Latin scholars
in modern times, let us not deny to his fame some additional
splendour from Greek.
The ludicrous imitators of Johnson's style are innumerable. Their
general method is to accumulate hard words, without considering,
that, although he was fond of introducing them occasionally, there
is not a single sentence in all his writings where they are crowded
together, as in the first verse of the following imaginary Ode by
him to Mrs. Thrale, which appeared in the newspapers:--
'Cervisial coctor's viduate dame,
Opin'st thou this gigantick frame,
Procumbing at thy shrine:
Shall, catenated by thy charms,
A captive in thy ambient arms,
Perennially be thine?'
This, and a thousand other such attempts, are totally unlike the
original, which the writers imagined they were turning into
ridicule. There is not similarity enough for burlesque, or even
for caricature.
'TO MR. GREEN, APOTHECARY, AT LICHFIELD.
'DEAR SIR,--I have enclosed the Epitaph for my Father, Mother, and
Brother, to be all engraved on the large size, and laid in the
middle aisle in St. Michael's church, which I request the clergyman
and churchwardens to permit.
'The first care must be to find the exact place of interment, that
the stone may protect the bodies. Then let the stone be deep,
massy, and hard; and do not let the difference of ten pounds, or
more, defeat our purpose.
'I have enclosed ten pounds, and Mrs. Porter will pay you ten more,
which I gave her for the same purpose. What more is wanted shall
be sent; and I beg that all possible haste may be made, for I wish
to have it done while I am yet alive. Let me know, dear Sir, that
you receive this. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,
'Dec. 2, 1784.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
Death had always been to him an object of terrour; so that, though
by no means happy, he still clung to life with an eagerness at
which many have wondered. At any time when he was ill, he was very
much pleased to be told that he looked better. An ingenious member
of the Eumelian Club, informs me, that upon one occasion when he
said to him that he saw health returning to his cheek, Johnson
seized him by the hand and exclaimed, 'Sir, you are one of the
kindest friends I ever had.'
Dr. Heberden, Dr. Brocklesby, Dr. Warren, and Dr. Butter,
physicians, generously attended him, without accepting any fees, as
did Mr. Cruikshank, surgeon; and all that could be done from
professional skill and ability, was tried, to prolong a life so
truly valuable. He himself, indeed, having, on account of his very
bad constitution, been perpetually applying himself to medical
inquiries, united his own efforts with those of the gentlemen who
attended him; and imagining that the dropsical collection of water
which oppressed him might be drawn off by making incisions in his
body, he, with his usual resolute defiance of pain, cut deep, when
he thought that his surgeon had done it too tenderly.*
* This bold experiment, Sir John Hawkins has related in such a
manner as to suggest a charge against Johnson of intentionally
hastening his end; a charge so very inconsistent with his character
in every respect, that it is injurious even to refute it, as Sir
John has thought it necessary to do. It is evident, that what
Johnson did in hopes of relief, indicated an extraordinary
eagerness to retard his dissolution.--BOSWELL.
About eight or ten days before his death, when Dr. Brocklesby paid
him his morning visit, he seemed very low and desponding, and said,
'I have been as a dying man all night.' He then emphatically broke
out in the words of Shakspeare:--
'Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?'
To which Dr. Brocklesby readily answered, from the same great
poet:--
'--therein the patient
Must minister to himself.'
Johnson expressed himself much satisfied with the application.
On another day after this, when talking on the subject of prayer,
Dr. Brocklesby repeated from Juvenal,--
'Orandum est, ut sit mens sana in corpore sano,'
and so on to the end of the tenth satire; but in running it quickly
over, he happened, in the line,
'Qui spatium vitae extremum inter munera ponat,'
to pronounce supremum for extremum; at which Johnson's critical ear
instantly took offence, and discoursing vehemently on the
unmetrical effect of such a lapse, he shewed himself as full as
ever of the spirit of the grammarian.
Having no near relations, it had been for some time Johnson's
intention to make a liberal provision for his faithful servant, Mr.
Francis Barber, whom he looked upon as particularly under his
protection, and whom he had all along treated truly as an humble
friend. Having asked Dr. Brocklesby what would be a proper annuity
to a favourite servant, and being answered that it must depend on
the circumstances of the master; and, that in the case of a
nobleman, fifty pounds a year was considered as an adequate reward
for many years' faithful service; 'Then, (said Johnson,) shall I be
nobilissimus, for I mean to leave Frank seventy pounds a year, and
I desire you to tell him so.' It is strange, however, to think,
that Johnson was not free from that general weakness of being
averse to execute a will, so that he delayed it from time to time;
and had it not been for Sir John Hawkins's repeatedly urging it, I
think it is probable that his kind resolution would not have been
fulfilled. After making one, which, as Sir John Hawkins informs
us, extended no further than the promised annuity, Johnson's final
disposition of his property was established by a Will and Codicil.
The consideration of numerous papers of which he was possessed,
seems to have struck Johnson's mind, with a sudden anxiety, and as
they were in great confusion, it is much to be lamented that he had
not entrusted some faithful and discreet person with the care and
selection of them; instead of which, he in a precipitate manner,
burnt large masses of them, with little regard, as I apprehend, to
discrimination. Not that I suppose we have thus been deprived of
any compositions which he had ever intended for the publick eye;
but, from what escaped the flames, I judge that many curious
circumstances relating both to himself and other literary
characters have perished.
Two very valuable articles, I am sure, we have lost, which were two
quarto volumes, containing a full, fair, and most particular
account of his own life, from his earliest recollection. I owned
to him, that having accidentally seen them, I had read a great deal
in them; and apologizing for the liberty I had taken, asked him if
I could help it. He placidly answered, 'Why, Sir, I do not think
you could have helped it.' I said that I had, for once in my life,
felt half an inclination to commit theft. It had come into my mind
to carry off those two volumes, and never see him more. Upon my
inquiring how this would have affected him, 'Sir, (said he,) I
believe I should have gone mad.'
During his last illness, Johnson experienced the steady and kind
attachment of his numerous friends. Mr. Hoole has drawn up a
narrative of what passed in the visits which he paid him during
that time, from the 10th of November to the 13th of December, the
day of his death, inclusive, and has favoured me with a perusal of
it, with permission to make extracts, which I have done. Nobody
was more attentive to him than Mr. Langton, to whom he tenderly
said, Te teneam moriens deficiente manu. And I think it highly to
the honour of Mr. Windham, that his important occupations as an
active statesman did not prevent him from paying assiduous respect
to the dying Sage whom he revered, Mr. Langton informs me, that,
'one day he found Mr. Burke and four or five more friends sitting
with Johnson. Mr. Burke said to him, "I am afraid, Sir, such a
number of us may be oppressive to you." "No, Sir, (said Johnson,)
it is not so; and I must be in a wretched state, indeed, when your
company would not be a delight to me." Mr. Burke, in a tremulous
voice, expressive of being very tenderly affected, replied, "My
dear Sir, you have always been too good to me." Immediately
afterwards he went away. This was the last circumstance in the
acquaintance of these two eminent men.'
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