The Life of Samuel Johnson
Page 121
I cannot with-hold from my great friend a censure of at least culpable inattention, to a nobleman, who, it has been shewn, behaved to him with uncommon politeness. He says, ‘Except Lord Bathurst, none of Pope’s noble friends were such as that a good man would wish to have his intimacy with them known to posterity.’ This will not apply to Lord Mansfield, who was not ennobled in Pope’s life-time; but Johnson should have recollected, that Lord Marchmont was one of those noble friends. He includes his Lordship along with Lord Bolingbroke, in a charge of neglect of the papers which Pope left by his will; when, in truth, as I myself pointed out to him, before he wrote that poet’s life, the papers were ‘committed to the sole care and judgement of Lord Bolingbroke, unless he (Lord Bolingbroke) shall not survive me;’ so that Lord Marchmont had no concern whatever with them. After the first edition of the Lives, Mr. Malone, whose love of justice is equal to his accuracy, made, in my hearing, the same remark to Johnson; yet he omitted to correct the erroneous statement.b These particulars I mention, in the belief that there was only forgetfulness in my friend; but I owe this much to the Earl of Marchmont’s reputation, who, were there no other memorials, will be immortalised by that line of Pope in the verses on his Grotto:
‘And the bright flame was shot through Marchmont’s soul.’993
Various Readings in the Life of POPE.
‘[Somewhat free] sufficiently bold in his criticisms.
‘All the gay [niceties] varieties of diction.
‘Strikes the imagination with far [more] greater force.
‘It is [probably] certainly the noblest version of poetry which the world has ever seen.
‘Every sheet enabled him to write the next with [less trouble] more facility.
‘No man sympathizes with [vanity depressed] the sorrows of vanity.
‘It had been [criminal] less easily excused.
‘When he [threatened to lay down] talked of laying down his pen.
‘Society [is so named emphatically in opposition to] politically regulated, is a state contra-distinguished from a state of nature.
‘A fictitious life of an [absurd] infatuated scholar.
‘A foolish [contempt, disregard,] disesteem of Kings.
‘His hopes and fears, his joys and sorrows [were like those of other mortals] acted strongly upon his mind.
‘Eager to pursue knowledge and attentive to [accumulate] retain it.
‘A mind [excursive] active, ambitious, and adventurous.
‘In its [noblest] widest researches still longing to go forward.
‘He wrote in such a manner as might expose him to few [neglects] hazards.
‘The [reasonableness] justice of my determination.
‘A [favourite] delicious employment of the poets.
‘More terrifick and more powerful [beings] phantoms perform on the stormy ocean.
‘The inventor of [those] this petty [beings] nation.
‘The [mind] heart naturally loves truth.’
In the Life of ADDISON we find an unpleasing account of his having lent Steele a hundred pounds, and ‘reclaimed his loan by an execution.’994In the new edition of the Biographia Britannica, the authenticity of this anecdote is denied. But Mr. Malone has obliged me with the following note concerning it: –
‘Many persons having doubts concerning this fact, I applied to Dr. Johnson to learn on what authority he asserted it. He told me, he had it from Savage, who lived in intimacy with Steele, and who mentioned, that Steele told him the story with tears in his eyes. – Ben Victor, Dr. Johnson said, likewise informed him of this remarkable transaction, from the relation of Mr. Wilkes the comedian, who was also an intimate of Steele’s. – Some, in defence of Addison, have said, that “the act was done with the good-natured view of rousing Steele, and correcting that profusion which always made him necessitous.” – “If that were the case, (said Johnson,) and that he only wanted to alarm Steele, he would afterwards have returned the money to his friend, which it is not pretended he did.” – “This too, (he added,) might be retorted by an advocate for Steele, who might alledge, that he did not repay the loan intentionally, merely to see whether Addison would be mean and ungenerous enough to make use of legal process to recover it. But of such speculations there is no end: we cannot dive into the hearts of men; but their actions are open to observation.’
‘I then mentioned to him that some people thought that Mr. Addison’s character was so pure, that the fact, though true, ought to have been suppressed. He saw no reason for this. “If nothing but the bright side of characters should be shewn, we should sit down in despondency, and think it utterly impossible to imitate them in any thing. The sacred writers, (he observed,) related the vicious as well as the virtuous actions of men; which had this moral effect, that it kept mankind from despair, into which otherwise they would naturally fall, were they not supported by the recollection that others had offended like themselves, and by penitence and amendment of life had been restored to the favour of Heaven.”
‘March 15, 1782.’ E. M.’
The last paragraph of this note is of great importance; and I request that my readers may consider it with particular attention. It will be afterwards referred to in this work.
Various Readings in the Life of ADDISON.
‘[But he was our first great example] He was, however, one of our earliest examples of correctness.
‘And [overlook] despise their masters.
‘His instructions were such as the [state] character of his [own time] readers made [necessary] proper.
‘His purpose was to [diffuse] infuse literary curiosity by gentle and unsuspected conveyance [among] into the gay, the idle, and the wealthy.
‘Framed rather for those that [wish] are learning to write.
‘Domestick [manners] scenes.’
In his Life of PARNELL, I wonder that Johnson omitted to insert an Epitaph which he had long before composed for that amiable man, without ever writing it down, but which he was so good as, at my request, to dictate to me, by which means it has been preserved.
‘Hic requiescit THOMAS PARNELL, S. T. P.
Qui sacerdos pariter et poeta,
Utrasque partes ita implevit,
Ut neque sacerdoti suavitas poetæ,
Nec poetæ sacerdotis sanctitas, deesset.’995
Various Readings in the Life of PARNELL.
‘About three years [after] afterwards.
‘[Did not much want] was in no great need of improvement.
‘But his prosperity did not last long [was clouded by that which took away all his powers of enjoying either profit or pleasure, the death of his wife, whom he is said to have lamented with such sorrow, as hastened his end.]a His end, whatever was the cause, was now approaching.
‘In the Hermit, the [composition] narrative, as it is less airy, is less pleasing.’
In the Life of BLACKMORE, we find that writer’s reputation generously cleared by Johnson from the cloud of prejudice which the malignity of contemporary wits had raised around it. In this spirited exertion of justice, he has been imitated by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in his praise of the architecture of Vanburgh.
We trace Johnson’s own character in his observations on Blackmore’s ‘magnanimity as an authour.’ ‘The incessant attacks of his enemies, whether serious or merry, are never discovered to have disturbed his quiet, or to have lessened his confidence in himself.’ Johnson, I recollect, once told me, laughing heartily, that he understood it had been said of him, ‘He appears not to feel; but, when he is alone, depend upon it, he suffers sadly.’ I am as certain as I can be of any man’s real sentiments, that he enjoyed the perpetual shower of little hostile arrows, as evidence of his fame.
Various Readings in the Life of BLACKMORE.
‘To [set] engage poetry [on the side] in the cause of virtue.
‘He likewise [established] enforced the truth of Revelation.
‘[Kindness] benevolence was ashamed to favour.
‘His practice, which was once [ver
y extensive] invidiously great.
‘There is scarcely any distemper of dreadful name [of] which he has not [shewn] taught his reader how [it is to be opposed] to oppose.
‘Of this [contemptuous] indecent arrogance.
‘[He wrote] but produced likewise a work of a different kind.
‘At least [written] compiled with integrity.
‘Faults which many tongues [were desirous] would have made haste to publish.
‘But though he [had not] could not boast of much critical knowledge.
‘He [used] waited for no felicities of fancy.
‘Or had ever elevated his [mind] views to that ideal perfection which every [mind] genius born to excel is condemned always to pursue and never overtake.
‘The [first great] fundamental principle of wisdom and of virtue.’
Various Readings in the Life of PHILIPS.
‘His dreaded [rival] antagonist POPE.
‘They [have not often much] are not loaded with thought.
‘In his translations from Pindar, he [will not be denied to have reached] found the art of reaching all the obscurity of the Theban bard.’
Various Readings in the Life of CONGREVE.
‘Congreve’s conversation must surely have been at least equally pleasing with his writings.
‘It apparently [requires] presupposes a familiar knowledge of many characters.
‘Reciprocation of [similes] conceits.
‘The dialogue is quick and [various] sparkling.
‘Love for Love; a comedy [more drawn from life] of nearer alliance to life.
‘The general character of his miscellanies is, that they shew little wit and [no] little virtue.
‘[Perhaps] certainly he had not the fire requisite for the higher species of lyrick poetry.’
Various Readings in the Life of TICKELL.
‘[Longed] long wished to peruse it.
‘At the [accession] arrival of King George.
‘Fiction [unnaturally] unskilfully compounded of Grecian deities and Gothick fairies.’
Various Readings in the Life of AKENSIDE.
‘For [another] a different purpose.
‘[A furious] an unnecessary and outrageous zeal.
‘[Something which] what he called and thought liberty.
‘A [favourer of innovation] lover of contradiction.
‘Warburton’s [censure] objections.
‘His rage [for liberty] of patriotism.
‘Mr. Dyson with [a zeal] an ardour of friendship.’
In the Life of LYTTELTON, Johnson seems to have been not favourably disposed towards that nobleman. Mrs. Thrale suggests that he was offended by Molly Aston’s996 preference of his Lordship to him.a I can by no means join in the censure bestowed by Johnson on his Lordship, whom he calls ‘poor Lyttelton,’ for returning thanks to the Critical Reviewers for having ‘kindly commended’ his Dialogues of the Dead. Such ‘acknowledgements (says my friend,) never can be proper, since they must be paid either for flattery or for justice.’ In my opinion, the most upright man, who has been tried on a false accusation, may, when he is acquitted, make a bow to his jury. And when those who are so much the arbiters of literary merit, as in a considerable degree to influence the publick opinion, review an authour’s work, placido lumine998 when I am afraid mankind in general are better pleased with severity, he may surely express a grateful sense of their civility.
Various Readings in the Life of LYTTELTON.
‘He solaced [himself] his grief by writing a long poem to her memory.
‘The production rather [of a mind that means well than thinks vigorously] as it seems of leisure than of study, rather effusions than compositions.
‘His last literary [work] production.
‘[Found the way] undertook to persuade.’
As the introduction to his critical examination of the genius and writings of YOUNG, he did Mr. Herbert Croft, then a Barrister of Lincoln’s-inn, now a clergyman, the honour to adopt a Life of Young written by that gentleman, who was the friend of Dr. Young’s son, and wished to vindicate him from some very erroneous remarks to his prejudice. Mr. Croft’s performance was subjected to the revision of Dr. Johnson, as appears from the following note to Mr. John Nichols:b-
‘This Life of Dr. Young was written by a friend of his son. What is crossed with black is expunged by the authour, what is crossed with red is expunged by me. If you find any thing more that can be well omitted, I shall not be sorry to see it yet shorter.’
It has always appeared to me to have a considerable share of merit, and to display a pretty successful imitation of Johnson’s style. When I mentioned this to a very eminent literary character,999 he opposed me vehemently, exclaiming, ‘No, no, it is not a good imitation of Johnson; it has all his pomp without his force; it has all the nodosities1000 of the oak without its strength.’ This was an image so happy, that one might have thought he would have been satisfied with it; but he was not. And setting his mind again to work, he added, with exquisite felicity, ‘It has all the contortions of the Sybil,1001 without the inspiration.’
Mr. Croft very properly guards us against supposing that Young was a gloomy man; and mentions, that ‘his parish was indebted to the good-humour of the authour of the Night Thoughts for an Assembly and a Bowling-Green.’ A letter from a noble foreigner is quoted, in which he is said to have been ‘very pleasant in conversation.’
Mr. Langton, who frequently visited him, informs me, that there was an air of benevolence in his manner, but that he could obtain from him less information than he had hoped to receive from one who had lived so much in intercourse with the brightest men of what has been called the Augustan age of England; and that he shewed a degree of eager curiosity concerning the common occurrences that were then passing, which appeared somewhat remarkableinamanofsuch intellectual stores, ofsuchan advanced age, and who had retired from life with declared disappointment in his expectations.
An instance at once of his pensive turn of mind, and his cheerfulness of temper, appeared in a little story which he himself told to Mr. Langton, when they were walking in his garden: ‘Here (said he,) I had put a handsome sun-dial, with this inscription, Eheu fugaces!1002 which (speaking with a smile) was sadly verified, for by the next morning my dial had been carried off.’a
It gives me much pleasure to observe, that however Johnson may have casually talked, yet when he sits, as ‘an ardent judge zealous to his trust, giving sentence’1003 upon the excellent works of Young, he allows them the high praise to which they are justly entitled. ‘The Universal Passion (says he,) is indeed a very great performance, – his distichs1004 have the weight of solid sentiment, and his points the sharpness of resistless truth.’
But I was most anxious concerning Johnson’s decision upon Night Thoughts, which I esteem as a mass of the grandest and richest poetry that human genius has ever produced; and was delighted to find this character of that work: ‘In his Night Thoughts, he has exhibited a very wide display of original poetry, variegated with deep reflections and striking allusions; a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility of fancy scatters flowers of every hue and of every odour. This is one of the few poems in which blank verse could not be changed for rhime but with disadvantage.’ And afterwards, ‘Particular lines are not to be regarded; the power is in the whole; and in the whole there is a magnificence like that ascribed to Chinese plantation, the magnificence of vast extent and endless diversity.’
But there is in this Poem not only all that Johnson so well brings in view, but a power of the Pathetick beyond almost any example that I have seen. He who does not feel his nerves shaken, and his heart pierced by many passages in this extraordinary work, particularly by that most affecting one, which describes the gradual torment suffered by the contemplation of an object of affectionate attachment, visibly and certainly decaying into dissolution, must be of a hard and obstinate frame.
To all the other excellencies of Night Thoughts let me add the great and peculiar one, tha
t they contain not only the noblest sentiments of virtue, and contemplations on immortality, but the Christian Sacrifice, the Divine Propitiation, with all its interesting circumstances, and consolations to ‘a wounded spirit,’ solemnly and poetically displayed in such imagery and language, as cannot fail to exalt, animate, and soothe the truly pious. No book whatever can be recommended to young persons, with better hopes of seasoning their minds with vital religion, than YOUNG’s Night Thoughts.
In the Life of SWIFT, it appears to me that Johnson had a certain degree of prejudice against that extraordinary man, of which I have elsewhere had occasion to speak. Mr. Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposed apprehension in Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active in obtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited,a but of this there was not sufficient evidence; and let me not presume to charge Johnson with injustice, because he did not think so highly of the writings of this authour, as I have done from my youth upwards. Yet that he had an unfavourable bias is evident, were it only from that passage in which he speaks of Swift’s practice of saving, as, ‘first ridiculous and at last detestable;’ and yet after some examination of circumstances, finds himself obliged to own, that ‘it will perhaps appear that he only liked one mode of expence better than another, and saved merely that he might have something to give.’
One observation which Johnson makes in Swift’s life should be often inculcated: –
‘It may be justly supposed, that there was in his conversation what appears so frequently in his letters, an affectation of familiarity with the great, an ambition of momentary equality, sought and enjoyed by the neglect of those ceremonies which custom has established as the barriers between one order of society and another. This transgression of regularity was by himself and his admirers termed greatness of soul; but a great mind disdains to hold any thing by courtesy, and therefore never usurps what a lawful claimant may take away. He that encroaches on another’s dignity puts himself in his power; he is either repelled with helpless indignity, or endured by clemency and condescension.’