Having, after repeated reasonings, brought Dr. Johnson to agree to my removing to London, and even to furnish me with arguments in favour of what he had opposed; I wrote to him, requesting he would write them for me. He was so good as to comply, and I shall extract that part of his letter to me, as a proof how well he could exhibit a cautious yet encouraging view of it. JOHNSON TO BOSWELL. "June 11. 1784. "I remember, and entreat you to remember, that virtus est vitium fugere, the first approach to riches is security from poverty. The condition upon which you have my consent to settle in London is, that your expense never exceeds your annual income. Fixing this basis of security, you cannot be hurt, and you may be very much advanced. The loss of your Scottish business, which is all that you can lose, is not to be reckoned as any equivalent to the hopes and possibilities that open here upon you. men act with great liberality. Let us not i below them. "I know not in what state Dr. Edwards lef: book. Some of his emendations seemed to me "You have now the whole process of the cor spondence before you. When the prior is answer. let some apology be made for me." "I was forced to divide the collation, but z is paged, you will easily put every part in its pray place. "Be pleased to convey my respects to Mr. # Miss Adams. I am, Sir, your most humble serve "SAM. JOHNSON. Let us now contemplate Johnson th years after the death of his wife, still retaini for her all the tenderness of affection. At Bromley. **July 12. 1 "SIR, Perhaps you may remember, that i If you succeed, the question of JOHNSON TO THE REV. MR. BAGSHAV prudence is at an end; every body will think that done right which ends happily; and though your expectations, of which I would not advise you to talk too much, should not be totally answered, you can hardly fail to get friends who will do for you all that your present situation allows you to hope; and if, after a few years, you should return to Scotland, you will return with a mind supplied by various conversation, and many opportunities of inquiry, with much knowledge, and materials for reflection and instruction." [JOHNSON TO DR. ADAMS. "London, 11th June (July), 1784. "DEAR SIR, I am going into Staffordshire and Derbyshire in quest of some relief, of which my need is not less than when I was treated at your house with so much tenderness. "I have now received the collations for Xenophon, which I have sent you with the letters that relate to them. I cannot at present take any part in the work, but I would rather pay for a collation of Oppian than see it neglected; for the French King had been the obstacle, should have been kept in ignorance of the real state of the case, as by the following letter, which I found in the Reynolds papers, it appears he was. "LORD THURLOW TO SIR J. REYNOLDS. "Thursday, Nov. 18. 1784. "DEAR SIR, My choice, if that had been left me, would certainly have been that the matter should not have been talked of at all. The only object I regarded was my own pleasure, in contributing to the health and comfort of a man whom I venerate sincerely and highly for every part, without exception, of his exalted character. This you know I proposed to do, as it might be without any expense-in all events at a rate infinitely below the satisfaction I proposed to myself. It would have suited the purpose better if nobody had heard of it, except Dr. Johnson, you, and J. Boswell. But the chief objection to the rumour is, that his Majesty is supposed to have refused it. Had that been so, I should not have communicated the circumstance. It was impossible for me to take the King's pleasure on the suggestion I presumed to move. I am an untoward solicitor. The time seemed to press, and I chose rather to take on myself the risk of his Majesty's concurrence than delay a journey which might conduce to Dr. Johnson's health and comfort. "But these are all trifles, and scarce deserve even this cursory explanation. The only question of any worth is whether Dr. Johnson has any wish to go abroad, or other occasion for my assistance. Indeed he should give me credit the year 1753 you committed to the ground dear wife. I now entreat your permission to k a stone upon her; and have sent the inscriptum that, if you find it proper, you may signify ra allowance. 66 You will do me a great favour by showing th place where she lies, that the stone may preter her remains. "Mr. Ryland will wait on you for the inscripti [p. 77. n. 4], and procure it to be engraved. Ya will easily believe that I shrink from this mourni office. When it is done, if I have strength rear ing, I will visit Bromley once again, and pay r part of the respect to which you have a right ra reverend Sir, your most humble servant, SAM. JOHNSON.' On the same day he wrote to Mr. Lang ton: "I cannot but think that in my languid for perfect simplicity, when I treat this as merely a pleas That this letter was kept from Boswell's knowledge? certain, by his obvious vexation at thinking that the refs had come from the King-that it was designedly kept fran him is rendered probable by the following curious circeastance. On the face of the original letter his name ta been obliterated with so much care that but for the differe colour of the ink and some other small circumstances, » would not have been discoverable; it is artfully de and the sentence appears to run, "except Dr. Johnson, ja. and I"-"Boswell" being erased. This looks like an ecandid trick, to defraud Boswell of his merit in this matter: but by whom the obliteration was made I cannot guessCROKER. 1 His Xenophon. See antè, p. 621.-C. 2 I suppose the prior of the Benedictines in Paris (esti p. 460. n. 2.), who seem to have made, at Johnson's request. collation of Xenophon with some copy of their own, and have proposed a collation of Oppian, but for what precis purpose does not appear. - CROKER, 1847. 3 Mr. Ryland was one of his oldest friends, and had prote bly been an acquaintance of his wife's. (See ante, pp. Se 78.). Mr. Ryland died July 24. 1798, ætat. 81. — CROKER. anxious state, I have some reason to complain that I receive from you neither inquiry nor consolation. You know how much I value your friendship, and with what confidence I expect your kindness, if I wanted any act of tenderness that you could perform; at least, if you do not know it, I think your ignorance is your own fault. Yet how long is it that I have lived almost in your neighbourhood Iwithout the least notice?I do not, however, consider this neglect as particularly shown to me; I hear two of your most valuable friends make the same complaint. But why are all thus overlooked? You are not oppressed by sickness, you are not distracted by business; if you are sick, you are sick of leisure and allow yourself to be told, that no disease is more to be dreaded or avoided. Rather to do nothing than to do good, is the lowest state of a degraded mind. Boileau says to his pupil, Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi, That voluntary debility which modern language is content to term indolence will, if it is not counteracted by resolution, render in time the strongest faculties lifeless, and turn the flame to the smoke of virtue. I do not expect or desire to see you, because I am much pleased to find that your mother stays so long with you, and I should think you neither elegant nor grateful if you did not study her gratification. You will pay my respects to both the ladies, and to all the young people. I am going northward for a while, to try what help the country can give me; but if you write, the letter will come after me." Next day he set out on a jaunt to Staffordshire and Derbyshire, flattering himself that he might be in some degree relieved. During his absence from London he kept up a correspondence with several of his friends, = from which I shall select what appears to me proper for publication, without attending nicely to chronological order. TO DR. BROCKLESBY he writes, The Ashbourne, July 20. "The kind attention which you have so long shown to my health and happiness makes it as much a debt of gratitude as a call of interest to give you an account of what befalls me, when accident removes me from your immediate care. journey of the first day was performed with very little sense of fatigue: the second day brought me to Lichfield without much lassitude; but I am afraid that I could not have borne such violent agitation for many days together. Tell Dr. Heberden, that in the coach I read Ciceronianus,' which I concluded as I entered Lichfield. affection and understanding went along with Erasmus, except that once or twice he somewhat unskilfully entangles Cicero's civil or moral with his rhetorical character. I staid five days at Lichfield, but, being unable to walk, had no great pleasure; and yesterday (19th) I came hither, where I am to try what air and attention can perform, Of any improvement in my health I cannot yet 1 Sir John Floyer, M.D. See antè, p. 7.- CROKER. 2 Sam's, at the Essex Head, Essex Street. - BOSWELL. My please myself with the perception. The asthma has no abatement. Opiates stop the fit, so as that I can sit and sometimes lie easy, but they do not now procure me the power of motion; and I am afraid that my general strength of body does not increase. The weather indeed is not benign: but how low is he sunk whose strength depends upon the weather! I am now looking into Floyer', who lived with his asthma to almost his ninetieth year. His book, by want of order, is obscure; and his asthma, I think, not of the same kind with mine. Something, however, I may perhaps learn. My appetite still continues keen enough; and what I consider as a symptom of radical health, I have a voracious delight in raw summer fruit, of which I was less eager a few years ago. You will be pleased to communicate this account to Dr. Heberden, and if any thing is to be done, let me have your joint opinion. Now abite, cure! — let me inquire after the club.' July 31st. Not recollecting that Dr. Heberden might be at Windsor, I thought your letter long in coming. But you know nocitura petuntur. the letter which I so much desired tells me that I have lost one of my best and tenderest friends.3 My comfort is, that he appeared to live like a man that had always before his eyes the fragility of our present existence, and was therefore, I hope, not unprepared to meet his Judge. Your attention, dear Sir, and that of Dr. Heberden, to my health, is extremely kind. I am loth to think that I grow worse; and cannot fairly prove even to my own partiality that I grow much better." 2 "Aug. 5.—I return you thanks, dear Sir, for your unwearied attention both medicinal and friendly, and hope to prove the effect of your care by living to acknowledge it." 66 Aug. 12. Pray be so kind as to have me in your thoughts, and mention my case to others as you have opportunity. I seem to myself neither to gain nor lose strength. I have lately tried milk, but have yet found no advantage, and am afraid of it merely as a liquid. My appetite is still good, which I know is dear Dr. Heberden's criterion of the vis vitæ.· -As we cannot now see each other, do not omit to write, for you cannot think with what warmth of expectation I reckon the hours of a post day.' favoured with a degree of ease that very much delights me, and do not despair of another race up the stairs of the Academy. If I were, however, of a humour to see, or to show, the state of my body, on the dark side, I might say, here makes a letter of great value. I have bere little company and little amusement; and, thus abandoned to the contemplation of my own miseries. I am something gloomy and depressed: this too! resist as I can, and find opium, I think, useful; 'Quid te exempta juvat spinis de pluribus una?' but I seldom take more than one grain. Is t The nights are still sleepless, and the water rises, and now autumn is come before we have had suithis strange weather? Winter absorbed the sprag, though it does not rise very fast. Let us, however, mer. But let not our kindness for each other rejoice in all the good that we have. The remis-imitate the inconstancy of the seasons." sion of one disease will enable nature to combat the rest. The squills I have not neglected; for I have taken more than a hundred drops a day, and one day took two hundred and fifty, which, according to the popular equivalent of a drop to a grain, is more than half an ounce. I thank you, dear Sir, for your attention in ordering the medicines; your attention to me has never failed. If the virtue of medicines could be enforced by the benevolence of the prescriber, how soon should I be well!" "August 19.-The relaxation of the asthma still continues, yet I do not trust it wholly to itself, but soothe it now and then with an opiate. I not only perform the act of respiration with less labour, but I can walk with fewer intervals of rest, and with greater freedom of motion. I never thought well of Dr. James's compounded medicines; his ingredients appear to me sometimes inefficacious and trifling, and sometimes heterogeneous and destructive of each other. This prescription exhibits a composition of about three hundred and thirty grains, in which there are four grains of emetic tartar, and six drops [of] thebaic tincture. He that writes thus surely writes for show. The basis of his medicine is the gum ammoniacum, which dear Dr. Lawrence used to give, but of which I never saw any effect. We will, if you please, let this medicine alone. The squills have every suffrage, and in the squills we will rest for the present. "Aug. 21.- The kindness which you show by having me in your thoughts upon all occasions will, I hope, always fill my heart with gratitude. Be pleased to return my thanks to Sir George Baker', for the consideration which he has bestowed upon me. Is this the balloon that has been so long expected, this balloon to which I subscribed, but without payment? It is pity that philosophers have been disappointed, and shame that they have been cheated; but I know not well how to prevent either. Of this experiment I have read nothing: where was it exhibited? and who was the man that ran away with so much money? Continue, dear Sir, to write often, and more at a time; for none of your prescriptions operate to their proper uses more certainly than your letters operate as cordials." "August 26. I suffered you to escape last post without a letter, but you are not to expect such indulgence very often; for I write not so much because I have any thing to say, as because I hope for an answer; and the vacancy of my life The eminent physician, who was created a Baronet in 1776, and died June 1809, ætat. 88. CROker. 2 Does Dr. Johnson here allude to the unsuccessful attempt made, in 1784, by De Moret, who was determined to anticipate Lunardi in his first experiment in England? "Moret attempted to inflate his balloon with rarefied air, but by some accident in the process it sunk upon the fire; and the populace, who regarded the whole as an imposture, "Sept. 2. Mr. Windham has been here to se and staid about a day and a half; perhaps I mak me; he came, I think, forty miles out of his way, the time shorter than it was. Such conversation! shall not have again till I come back to the regions of literature; and there Windham is inter steča1 Luna minores." He then mentions the effects of certain medicines, as taken, and adds, "Nature is recovering its original powers, al the functions returning to their proper st God continue his mercies, and grant me to use them rightly!" Sept. 9. Do you know the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire? And have you ever see Chatsworth? had seen it before, but never when its owners wert I was at Chatsworth on Monday: 1 at home; I was very kindly received, and honesty pressed to stay; but I told them that a sick mat is not a fit inmate of a great house. But I hope go again some time." 66 all rather better, except sleep, and that of late has Sept. 11. I think nothing grows worse, but been at its old pranks. Last evening, I felt whe I had not known for a long time, an incination to walk for amusement; I took a short walk, and came back again neither breathless nor fatigued. This has been a gloomy, frigid, ungenial summer; but of late it seems to mend; I hear the heat some times mentioned, but I do not feel it : • Præterea minimus gelido jam in corpore sangus Febre calet solâ.' I hope, however, with good help, to find means of supporting a winter at home, and to hear and te at the Club what is doing, and what ought to be doing, in the world. I have no company here, and shall naturally come home hungry for conversation. To wish you, dear Sir, more leisure, would not be kind; but what leisure you have, you must bestor upon me." 66 Sept. 16. I have now let you alone for s long time, having indeed little to say. You charge me somewhat unjustly with luxury. At Chate worth, you should remember that I have eaten but once; and the doctor, with whom I live, follows : milk diet. I grow no fatter, though my stomachs if it be not disturbed by physic, never fails me. 1 now grow weary of solitude, and think of removing next week to Lichfield, a place of more society, but otherwise of less convenience. When I am settles I shall write again. Of the hot weather that you H mentioned, we have [not] had in Derbyshire very much; and for myself I seldom feel heat, and suppose that my frigidity is the effect of my distemper -a supposition which naturally leads me to hope that a hotter climate may be useful. But I hope to stand another English winter." "Lichfield, Sept. 29. — On one day I had three letters about the air-balloon': yours was far the best, and has enabled me to impart to my friends in the country an idea of this species of amusement, In amusement, mere amusement, I am afraid it must end, for I do not find that its course can be directed so as that it should serve any purposes of communication; and it can give no new intelligence of the state of the air at different heights, till they have ascended above the height of mountains, which they seem never likely to do. I came hither on the 27th. How long I shall stay, I have not determined. My dropsy is gone, and my asthma is much remitted, but I have felt myself a little declining these two days, or at least to-day; but such vicissitudes must be expected. One day may be worse than another; but this last month is far better than the former: if the next should be as much better than this, I shall run about the town on my own legs." "Oct. 6.- The fate of the balloon I do not much lament: to make new balloons is to repeat the jest again. We now know a method of mounting into the air, and, I think, are not likely to know more. The vehicles can serve no use till we can guide them; and they can gratify no curiosity till we mount with them to greater heights than we can reach without; till we rise above the tops of the highest mountains, which we have yet not done. We know the state of the air in all its regions, to the top of Teneriffe, and therefore learn nothing from those who navigate a balloon below the clouds. The first experiment, however, was bold, and deserved applause and reward: but since it has been performed, and its event is known, I had rather now find a medicine that can ease an asthma." I am "Oct. 25. You write to me with a zeal that animates and a tenderness that melts me. not afraid either of a journey to London, or a residence in it. I came down with little fatigue, and am now not weaker. In the smoky atmosphere I was delivered from the dropsy, which I consider as the original and radical disease. The town is my element: there are my friends, there are my books, to which I have not yet bid farewell, and there are my amusements. Sir Joshua told me long ago, that my vocation was to public life; and I hope still to keep my station, till God shall bid me Go in peace." Lunardi had ascended from the Artillery Ground on the 15th of this month; and as it was the first ascent in a balloon which had been witnessed in England, it was not surprising that very general interest was excited by the spectacle, and that so many allusions should be made to it by Johnson and his correspondents. The late Lord Tenterden, whilst a student at Oxford, abtained a prize in this year, for his Latin verses entitled Globus Aërostaticus.- MARKLAND. 2 His love of London continually appears. In a letter from him to Mrs. Smart, wife of his friend the poet, which is published in a well-written life of him, prefixed to an edition of his poems, in 1791, there is the following sentence:"To one that has passed so many years in the pleasures and opulence of London, there are few places that can give much delight." Once upon reading that line in the curious epitaph quoted in "The Spectator," ence. JOHNSON TO MR. HOOLE. "Ashbourne, Aug. 7. "Since I was here, I have two little letters from you, and have not had the gratitude to write. But every man is most free with his best friends, because he does not suppose that they can suspect him of intentional incivility. One reason for my omission is, that being in a place to which you are wholly a stranger, I have no topics of correspondIf you had any knowledge of Ashbourne, I could tell you of two Ashbourne men, who, being last week condemned at Derby to be hanged for robbery, went and hanged themselves in their cell. But this, however it may supply us with talk, is Your kindness, I know, would nothing to you. make you glad to hear some good of me, but I have not much good to tell if I grow not worse, it is all that I can say. I hope Mrs. Hoole receives more help from her migration. Make her my compliments, and write again to, dear Sir, your affectionate servant. 66 " Aug. 13. I thank you for your affectionate letter. I hope we shall both be the better for each quickly be parted. Tell Mr. Nichols that I shall other's friendship, and I hope we shall not very be glad of his correspondence when his business allows him a little remission; though to wish him be too selfish. To pay for seats at the balloon is less business, that I may have more pleasure, would not very necessary, because in less than a minute they who gaze at a mile's distance will see all that can be seen. About the wings, I am of your mind: late its motion. I am now grown somewhat easier : they cannot at all assist it, nor I think reguin my body, but my mind is sometimes depressed. About the Club I am in no great pain. The forfeitures go on, and the house, I hear, is improved for our future meetings. I hope we shall meet often and sit long." "Sept. 4. Your letter was indeed long in coming, but it was very welcome. Our acquaintance has now subsisted long, and our recollection of each other involves a great space, and many little occurrences which melt the thoughts to tenderness. Write to me, therefore, as frequently as you can. I hear from Dr. Brocklesby and Mr. Ryland that the Club is not crowded. I hope we shall enliven it when winter brings us together." "Born in New England, did in London die,”— he laughed, and said, "I do not wonder at this. It would have been strange if, born in London, he had died in New England." BOSWELL. 3 There was no information for which Dr. Johnson was less grateful than for that which concerned the weather. It was in allusion to his impatience with those who were reduced to keep conversation alive by observations on the weather, that he applied the old proverb to himself. If any one of his intimate acquaintance told him it was hot or cold, wet or dry, windy or calm, he would stop them by saying, "Poh! poh! you are telling us that of which none but men in a mine or a dungeon can be ignorant. Let us bear with patience, or enjoy in quiet, elementary changes, whether for the better or the worse, as they are never secrets.”— BURNEY. I turn, the dead or the dying meet my notice, and force my attention upon misery and mortality. Mrs. Burney's escape from so much danger, and her ease after so much pain, throws, however, some radiance of hope upon the gloomy prospect. May her recovery be perfect, and her continuance long! I struggle hard for life. I take physic and take air: my friend's chariot is always ready. We have run this morning twenty-four miles, and could run forty-eight more. But who can run the race with death?" "Sept. 4." [Concerning a private transaction, in which his opinion was asked, and after giving it, he makes the following reflections, which are applicable on other occasions.] "Nothing deserves more compassion than wrong conduct with good meaning; than loss or obloquy suffered by one who, as he is conscious only of good intentions, wonders why he loses that kindness which he wishes to preserve; and not knowing his own faultif, as may sometimes happen, nobody will tell him goes on to offend by his endeavours to please. I am delighted by finding that our opinions are the same. You will do me a real kindness by continuing to write. A post-day has now been long a day of recreation." "Nov. 1.- Our correspondence paused for want of topics. I had said what I had to say on the matter proposed to my consideration, and nothing remained but to tell you that I waked or slept, that I was more or less sick. I drew my thoughts in upon myself, and supposed yours employed upon your book. That your book has been delayed I am glad, since you have gained an opportunity of being more exact. Of the caution necessary in adjusting narratives there is no end. Some tell what they do not know, that they may not seem ignorant, and others from mere indifference about truth. All truth is not, indeed, of equal importance: but if little violations are allowed, every violation will in time be thought little; and a writer should keep himself vigilantly on his guard against the first temptations to negligence or supineness. I had ceased to write, because respecting you I had no more to say, and respecting myself could say little good. I cannot boast of advancement; and in case of convalescence it may be said, with few exceptions, Non progredi est regredi. I hope I may be excepted. My great difficulty was with my sweet Fanny', who, by her artifice of inserting her letter in yours, had given me a precept of frugality which I was not at liberty to neglect; and I know not who were in town under whose cover I could send my letter. I rejoice to hear that you are so well, and have a delight particularly sympathetic in the recovery of Mrs. Burney." JOHNSON TO LANGTON. "August 25. "The kindness of your last letter, and my omission to answer it, begin to give you, even in my opinion, a right to recriminate, and to charge me with forgetfulness for the absent. I will therefore He says "pride must have a fall," in allusion to his own former assertions, that the weather had no effect on human health. See Idler, No. 11., and antè, p. 111. and 146.CROKER. 1 The celebrated Miss Fanny Burney. - BOSWELL. I am delay no longer to give an account of myself, and wish I could relate what would please either myself or my friend. On July 13. I left London, partly in hope of help from new air and change of place, and partly excited by the sick man's impatience of the present. I got to Lichfield in a stage vehicle, with very little fatigue, in two days, and had the consolation to find that since my last visit my three old acquaintances are all dead. — July 20. I went to Ashbourne, where I have been till now. The house in which we live is repairing. I live in too much solitude, and am often deeply dejected. I wish we were nearer, and rejoice in your removal to London. A friend at once cheerful and serious is a great acquisition. Let us not neglect one another for the little time which Providence allows us to hope. Of my health I cannot tell you, what my wishes persuaded me to expect, that it is much improved by the season or by remedies. sleepless; my legs grow weary with a very few steps, and the water breaks its boundaries in some degree. The asthma, however, has remitted: my breath is still much obstructed, but is more free than it was. Nights of watchfulness produce torpid days. I read very little, though I am alone; for I am tempted to supply in the day what I lost in bed. This is my history; like all other histories, a narrative of misery. Yet I am so much better than in the beginning of the year, that I ought to be ashamed of complaining. I now sit and write with very little sensibility of pain or weakness; but when I rise, I shall find my legs betraying me. Of the money which you mentioned I have no immediate need: keep it, however, for me, unless some exigence requires it. Your papers I will show you certainly when you would see them; but I am a little angry at you for not keeping minutes of your own acceptum et expensum, and think a little time might be spared from Aristophanes for the res familiares. Forgive me, for I mean well. I hope, dear Sir, that you and Lady Rothes and all the young people, too many to enumerate, are well and happy. God bless you all." JOHNSON TO WINDHAM. August. "The tenderness with which you have been me through my long illness, pleased to treat neither health nor sickness can, I hope, make me forget; and you are not to suppose that after we parted you were no longer in my mind. But what can a sick man say, but that he is sick? His thoughts are necessarily concentred in himself: he neither receives nor can give delight; his inquiries are after alleviations of pain, and his efforts are to catch some momentary comfort. Though I am now in the neighbourhood of the Peak, you must expect no account of its wonders, of its hills, its waters, its caverns, or its mines; but I will tell you, dear Sir, what I hope you will not hear with less satisfaction, that, for about a week past, my asthma has been less afflictive." |