Complete Works of Samuel Johnson

by Samuel Johnson

  The best subject for epitaphs is private virtue; virtue exerted in the same circumstances in which the bulk of mankind are placed, and which, therefore, may admit of many imitators. He that has delivered his country from oppression, or freed the world from ignorance and errour, can excite the emulation of a very small number; but he that has repelled the temptations of poverty, and disdained to free himself from distress, at the expense of his virtue, may animate multitudes, by his example, to the same firmness of heart and steadiness of resolution.

  Of this kind I cannot forbear the mention of two Greek inscriptions; one upon a man whose writings are well known, the other upon a person whose memory is preserved only in her epitaph, who both lived in slavery, the most calamitous estate in human life:

  [Greek: Zosimae ae prin eousa mono to somati doulae

  Kai to somati nun euren eleutheriaen.]

  ”Zosima, quae solo fuit olim corpore serva,

  Corpore nunc etiam libera facta fuit.”

  ”Zosima, who, in her life, could only have her body enslaved, now

  finds her body, likewise, set at liberty.”

  It is impossible to read this epitaph without being animated to bear the evils of life with constancy, and to support the dignity of human nature under the most pressing afflictions, both, by the example of the heroine, whose grave we behold, and the prospect of that state in which, to use the language of the inspired writers, “The poor cease from their labours, and the weary be at rest.” —

  The other is upon Epictetus, the Stoick philosopher:

  [Greek: Doulos Epiktaetos genomaen, kai som anapaeros,

  Kai peniaen Iros, kai philos Athanatois.]

  ”Servus Epictetus, mutilatus corpore, vixi

  Pauperieque Irus, curaque prima deum.”

  ”Epictetus, who lies here, was a slave and a cripple, poor as the

  beggar in the proverb, and the favourite of heaven.”

  In this distich is comprised the noblest panegyrick, and the most important instruction. We may learn from it, that virtue is impracticable in no condition, since Epictetus could recommend himself to the regard of heaven, amidst the temptations of poverty and slavery; slavery, which has always been found so destructive to virtue, that in many languages a slave and a thief are expressed by the same word. And we may be, likewise, admonished by it, not to lay any stress on a man’s outward circumstances, in making an estimate of his real value, since Epictetus the beggar, the cripple, and the slave, was the favourite of heaven.

  PREFACE TO AN ESSAY ON MILTON’S USE AND IMITATION OF THE MODERNS IN HIS PARADISE LOST.

  FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE YEAR 1750.

  It is now more than half a century since the Paradise Lost, having broke through the clouds with which the unpopularity of the author, for a time, obscured it, has attracted the general admiration of mankind; who have endeavoured to compensate the errour of their first neglect, by lavish praises and boundless veneration. There seems to have arisen a contest, among men of genius and literature, who should most advance its honour, or best distinguish its beauties. Some have revised editions, others have published commentaries, and all have endeavoured to make their particular studies, in some degree, subservient to this general emulation.

  Among the inquiries, to which this ardour of criticism has naturally given occasion, none is more obscure in itself, or more worthy of rational curiosity, than a retrospection of the progress of this mighty genius, in the construction of his work; a view of the fabrick gradually rising, perhaps, from small beginnings, till its foundation rests in the centre, and its turrets sparkle in the skies; to trace back the structure, through all its varieties, to the simplicity of its first plan; to find what was first projected, whence the scheme was taken, how it was improved, by what assistance it was executed, and from what stores the materials were collected, whether its founder dug them from the quarries of nature, or demolished other buildings to embellish his own.

  This inquiry has been, indeed, not wholly neglected, nor, perhaps, prosecuted with the care and diligence that it deserves. Several criticks have offered their conjectures; but none have much endeavoured to enforce or ascertain them. Mr. Voltaire tells us, without proof, that the first hint of Paradise Lost was taken from a farce called Adamo, written by a player; Dr. Pearce, that it was derived from an Italian tragedy, called Il Paradiso Perso; and Mr. Peck, that it was borrowed from a wild romance. Any of these conjectures may possibly be true, but, as they stand without sufficient proof, it must be granted, likewise, that they may all possibly be false; at least they cannot preclude any other opinion, which, without argument, has the same claim to credit, and may, perhaps, be shown, by resistless evidence, to be better founded.

  It is related, by steady and uncontroverted tradition, that the Paradise Lost was at first a tragedy, and, therefore, amongst tragedies the first hint is properly to be sought. In a manuscript, published from Milton’s own hand, among a great number of subjects for tragedy, is Adam unparadised, or Adam in exile; and this, therefore, may be justly supposed the embryo of this great poem. As it is observable, that all these subjects had been treated by others, the manuscript can be supposed nothing more, than a memorial or catalogue of plays, which, for some reason, the writer thought worthy of his attention. When, therefore, I had observed, that Adam in exile was named amongst them, I doubted not but, in finding the original of that tragedy, I should disclose the genuine source of Paradise Lost. Nor was my expectation disappointed; for, having procured the Adamus exul of Grotius, I found, or imagined myself to find, the first draught, the prima stamina of this wonderful poem.

  Having thus traced the original of this work, I was naturally induced to continue my search to the collateral relations, which it might be supposed to have contracted, in its progress to maturity: and having, at least, persuaded my own judgment that the search has not been entirely ineffectual, I now lay the result of my labours before the publick; with full conviction that, in questions of this kind, the world cannot be mistaken, at least, cannot long continue in errour.

  I cannot avoid acknowledging the candour of the author of that excellent monthly book, the Gentleman’s Magazine, in giving admission to the specimens in favour of this argument; and his impartiality in as freely inserting the several answers. I shall here subjoin some extracts from the seventeenth volume of this work, which I think suitable to my purpose. To which I have added, in order to obviate every pretence for cavil, a list of the authors quoted in the following essay, with their respective dates, in comparison with the date of Paradise Lost.

  POSTSCRIPT.

  When this Essay was almost finished, the splendid edition of Paradise Lost, so long promised by the reverend Dr. Newton, fell into my hands; of which I had, however, so little use, that, as it would be injustice to censure, it would be flattery to commend it: and I should have totally forborne the mention of a book that I have not read, had not one passage at the conclusion of the life of Milton, excited in me too much pity and indignation to be suppressed in silence.

  “Deborah, Milton’s youngest daughter,” says the editor, “was married to Mr. Abraham Clarke, a weaver, in Spitalfields, and died in August, 1727, in the 76th year of her age. She had ten children. Elizabeth, the youngest, was married to Mr. Thomas Foster, a weaver, in Spitalfields, and had seven children, who are all dead; and she, herself, is aged about sixty, and weak and infirm. She seemeth to be a good, plain, sensible woman, and has confirmed several particulars related above, and informed me of some others, which she had often heard from her mother.” These the doctor enumerates, and then adds, “In all probability, Milton’s whole family will be extinct with her, and he can live only in his writings. And such is the caprice of fortune, this granddaughter of a man, who will be an everlasting glory to the nation, has now for some years, with her husband, kept a little chandler’s or grocer’s shop, for their subsistence, lately at the lower Holloway, in the road between Highgate and London, and, at present, in Cocklane, not far from Shoreditch-ch
urch.”

  That this relation is true cannot be questioned: but, surely, the honour of letters, the dignity of sacred poetry, the spirit of the English nation, and the glory of human nature, require — that it should be true no longer. In an age, in which statues are erected to the honour of this great writer, in which his effigy has been diffused on medals, and his work propagated by translations, and illustrated by commentaries; in an age, which amidst all its vices, and all its follies, has not become infamous for want of charity: it may be, surely, allowed to hope, that the living remains of Milton will be no longer suffered to languish in distress. It is yet in the power of a great people, to reward the poet whose name they boast, and from their alliance to whose genius, they claim some kind of superiority to every other nation of the earth; that poet, whose works may possibly be read when every other monument of British greatness shall be obliterated; to reward him — not with pictures, or with medals, which, if he sees, he sees with contempt, but — with tokens of gratitude, which he, perhaps, may even now consider as not unworthy the regard of an immortal spirit. And, surely, to those, who refuse their names to no other scheme of expense, it will not be unwelcome, that a subscription is proposed, for relieving, in the languor of age, the pains of disease, and the contempt of poverty, the granddaughter of the author of Paradise Lost. Nor can it be questioned, that if I, who have been marked out as the Zoilus of Milton, think this regard due to his posterity, the design will be warmly seconded by those, whose lives have been employed, in discovering his excellencies, and extending his reputation.

  Subscriptions for the relief of Mrs. ELIZABETH FOSTER, granddaughter to

  JOHN MILTON, are taken in by Mr. Dodsley, in Pall-Mall; Messrs. Cox and

  Collings, under the Royal Exchange; Mr. Cave, at St. John’s Gate,

  Clerkenwell; and Messrs. Payne and Bouquet, in Paternoster-Row.

  In Boswell’s Life, i. 209, ed. 1816, Mr. Boswell thus writes, in a note: “His lordship (Dr. Douglas, then bishop of Salisbury) has been pleased now to authorise me to say, in the strongest manner, that there is no ground whatever for any unfavourable reflection against Dr. Johnson, who expressed the strongest indignation against Lauder.” — Ed.

  A LETTER TO THE REVEREND MR. DOUGLAS, OCCASIONED BY HIS VINDICATION OF MILTON.

  To which are subjoined several curious original letters from the authors of the Universal History, Mr. Ainsworth, Mr. Mac-Laurin, &c.

  BY WILLIAM LAUDER, A.M.

  Quem pænitet peccasse pene est innocens. SENECA.

  Corpora magnanimo satis est prostrasse Leoni:

  Pugna suum finem, quum jacet hostis, habet. OVID.

  — Prætuli clementiam

  Juris rigori. — GROTII Adamus Exul.

  FIRST PRINTED THE YEAR 1751.

  PREFATORY OBSERVATIONS.

  Dr. Johnson no sooner discovered the iniquitous conduct and designs of Lauder, than he compelled him to confess and recant, in the following letter to the reverend Mr. Douglas, which he drew up for him: but scarcely had Lauder exhibited this sign of contrition, when he addressed an apology to the archbishop of Canterbury, soliciting his patronage for an edition of the very poets whose works he had so misapplied, and concluding his address in the following spirit: “As for the interpolations for which I am so highly blamed, when passion is subsided, and the minds of men can patiently attend to truth, I promise amply to replace them with passages equivalent in value, that are genuine, that the public may be convinced that it was rather passion and resentment, than a penury of evidence, the twentieth part of which has not yet been produced, that obliged me to make use of them.” This did not satiate his malice: in 1752, he published the first volume of the proposed edition of the Latin poets, and in 1753, a second, accompanied with notes, both Latin and English, in a style of acrimonious scurrility, indicative almost of insanity. In 1754, he brought forward a pamphlet, entitled, King Charles vindicated from the charge of plagiarism, brought against him by Milton, and Milton himself convicted of forgery and gross imposition on the public. 8vo. In this work he exhausts every epithet of abuse, and utterly disclaims every statement made in his apology. It was reviewed, probably by Johnson, in the Gent. Mag. 1754, p. 97. — Ed.

  TO THE REVEREND MR. DOUGLAS.

  Sir,

  Candour and tenderness are, in any relation, and on all occasions, eminently amiable; but when they are found in an adversary, and found so prevalent as to overpower that zeal which his cause excites, and that heat which naturally increases in the prosecution of argument, and which may be, in a great measure, justified by the love of truth, they certainly appear with particular advantages; and it is impossible not to envy those who possess the friendship of him, whom it is, even, some degree of good fortune to have known as an enemy.

  I will not so far dissemble my weakness, or my fault, as not to confess that my wish was to have passed undetected; but, since it has been my fortune to fail in my original design, to have the supposititious passages, which I have inserted in my quotations, made known to the world, and the shade which began to gather on the splendour of Milton totally dispersed, I cannot but count it an alleviation of my pain, that I have been defeated by a man who knows how to use advantages, with so much moderation, and can enjoy the honour of conquest, without the insolence of triumph.

  It was one of the maxims of the Spartans, not to press upon a flying army, and, therefore, their enemies were always ready to quit the field, because they knew the danger was only in opposing. The civility with which you have thought proper to treat me, when you had incontestable superiority, has inclined me to make your victory complete, without any further struggle, and not only publicly to acknowledge the truth of the charge which you have hitherto advanced, but to confess, without the least dissimulation, subterfuge, or concealment, every other interpolation I have made in those authors, which you have not yet had opportunity to examine.

  On the sincerity and punctuality of this confession, I am willing to depend for all the future regard of mankind, and cannot but indulge some hopes, that they, whom my offence has alienated from me, may, by this instance of ingenuity and repentance, be propitiated and reconciled. Whatever be the event, I shall, at least, have done all that can be done in reparation of my former injuries to Milton, to truth, and to mankind; and entreat that those who shall continue implacable, will examine their own hearts, whether they have not committed equal crimes, without equal proofs of sorrow, or equal acts of atonement.

  PASSAGES INTERPOLATED IN MASENIUS.

  The word “pandemonium,” in the marginal notes of

  Book i. Essay, page 10.

  Citation 6. Essay, page 38.

  Annuit ipsa Dolo, malumque (heu! longa dolendi

  Materies! et triste nefas!) vesana momordit,

  Tanti ignara mali. Mora nulla: solutus avernus

  Exspuit infandas acies; fractumque remugit,

  Divulsa compage, solum: Nabathaea receptum

  Regna dedere sonum, Pharioque in littore Nercus

  Territus erubuit: simul aggemuere dolentes

  Hesperiæ valles, Libyaeque calentis arenae

  Exarsere procul. Stupefacta Lycaonis ursa

  Constitit, et pavido riguit glacialis in axe:

  Omnis cardinibus submotus inhorruit orbis;

  ”Angeli hoc efficiunt, coelestia jussa secuti.”

  Citation 7. Essay, page 41.

  Ilia quidem fugiens, sparsis per terga capillis,

  Ora rigat lacrimis, et coelum questibus implet:

  Talia voce rogans. Magni Deus arbiter orbis!

  Qui rerum momenta tenes, solusque futuri

  Praescius, elapsique memor: quem terra potentem

  Imperio, coelique tremunt; quem dite superbus

  Horrescit Phlegethon, pavidoque furore veretur:

  En! Styge crudeli premimur. Laxantur hiatus

  Tartarei, dirusque solo dominatur Avernus,

  ”Infernique canes populantur cuncta creata,”

  Et manes violant superos: d
iscrimina rerum

  Sustulit Antitheus, divumque oppressit honorem.

  Respice Sarcotheam: nimis, heu! decepta momordit

  Infaustas epulas, nosque omnes prodidit hosti.

  Citation 8. Essay, page 42; the whole passage.

  ”Quadrupedi pugnat quadrupes, volucrique volucris;

  Et piscis cum pisce ferox hostilibus armis

  Prælia sæva gerit: jam pristina pabula spernunt,

  Jam tondere piget viridantes gramine campos:

  Alterum et alterius vivunt animalia letho:

  Prisca nec in gentem humanam reverentia durat;

  Sed fugiunt, vel, si steterant, fera bella minantur

  Fronte truci, torvosque oculos jaculantur in illam.”

  Citation 9. Essay, page 43.

  ”Vatibus antiquis numerantur lumine cassis,”

  Tiresias, “Phineus,” Thamyrisque, et magnus Homerus.

  The above passage stands thus in Masenius, in one line:

  Tiresias caecus, Thamyrisque, et Daphnis, Homerus.

  N.B. The verse now cited is in Masenius’s poems, but not in the

  Sarcotis.

  Citation 10. Essay, page 46.

  In medio, turmas inter provectus ovantes

  Cernitur Antitheus; reliquis hic altior unus

  Eminet, et circum vulgus despectat inane:

  Frons nebulis obscura latet, torvumque furorem

  Dissimulat, fidae tectus velamine noctis:

  ”Persimilis turri praecelsae, aut montibus altis

  Antique cedro, nudatae frondis honore.”

  PASSAGES INTERPOLATED IN GROTIUS.

  Citation 1. Essay, page 55.