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period, for his own profit, a complete collection of his works.

His Vanity of Human Wishes has less of common life, but more of a philosophic dignity than his London. More readers, therefore, will be delighted with the pointed spirit of London, than with the profound reflection of the Vanity of Human Wishes. Garrick, for instance, observed in his sprightly manner, with more vivacity than regard to just discrimination, as is usual with wits, 'When Johnson lived much with the Herveys, and saw a good deal of what was passing in life, he wrote his London, which is lively and easy. When he became more retired, he gave us his Vanity of Human Wishes, which is as hard as Greek. he gone on to imitate another satire, it would have been as hard as Hebrew.'1

Had

But the Vanity of Human Wishes is, in the opinion of the best judges, as high an effort of ethic poetry as any language can show. The instances of variety of disappointment are chosen so judiciously, and painted so strongly, that, the moment they are read, they bring conviction to every thinking mind. That of the scholar must have depressed the too sanguine expectations of many an ambitious student. That of

1 From Mr. Langton.

2 In this poem one of the instances mentioned of unfortunate learned men is Lydiat:

'Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end.'

The history of Lydiat being little known, the following account of him may be acceptable to many of my readers. It appeared as a note in the supplement to the Gentleman's Magazine for 1748, in which some passages extracted from Johnson's poem were inserted, and it should have been added in the subsequent editions:-'A very learned divine and mathematician, fellow of New College, Oxon, and rector of Oker ton, near Banbury. He wrote, among many others, a Latin Treatise, "De Natura cæli, etc.," in which he attacked the sentiments of Scaliger and Aristotle, not bearing to hear it urged, that some things

the warrior Charles of Sweden is, I think, as highly finished a picture as possibly can be conceived.

Were all the other excellencies of this poem annihilated, it must ever have our grateful reverence from its noble conclusion; in which we are consoled with the assurance that happiness may be attained, if we ' apply our hearts' to piety :

'Where then shall hope and fear their objects find?
Shall dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?

Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate,

Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

Shall no dislike alarm, no wishes rise,

No cries attempt the mercy of the skies?
Inquirer, cease; petitions yet remain,

Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain.
Still raise for good the supplicating voice,

But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice;
Safe in his hand, whose eye discerns afar
The secret ambush of a specious prayer;
Implore his aid, in his decisions rest,
Secure, whate'er he gives, he gives the best;
Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies aspires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient passions, and a will resign'd;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill;
For patience, sovereign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, which panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's signal for retreat;

are true in philosophy and false in divinity. He made above six hundred sermons on the harmony of the Evangelists. Being unsuc cessful in publishing his works, he lay in the prison of Bocardo at Oxford, and in the King's Bench, till Bishop Usher, Dr. Laud, Sir William Boswell, and Dr. Pink, released him by paying his debts. He petitioned King Charles 1. to be sent into Ethiopia, etc. to procure Having spoken in favour of monarchy and bishops, he was plundered by the Parliament forces, and twice carried away prisoner from his rectory; and afterwards had not a shirt to shift him in three months, without he borrowed it, and died very poor in 1646.'

MSS.

These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain,
These goods he grants, who grants the power to gain ;
With these celestial wisdom calms the mind,

And makes the happiness she does not find.'1

Garrick being now vested with theatrical power by being manager of Drury Lane Theatre, he kindly and generously made use of it to bring out Johnson's tragedy, which had been long kept back for want of encouragement. But in this benevolent purpose he met with no small difficulty from the temper of Johnson, which could not brook that a drama which he had formed with much study, and had been obliged to keep more than the nine years of Horace, should be revised and altered at the pleasure of an actor.

1 [In this poem, a line, in which the danger attending on female beauty is mentioned, has very generally, I believe, been misunderstood:'Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring, And Sedley cursed the form that pleased a king.'

The lady mentioned in the first of these verses was not the celebrated Lady Vane whose memoirs were given to the public by Dr. Smollett, but Anne Vane, who was mistress to Frederick, Prince of Wales, and died in 1736, not long before Johnson settled in London. Some account of this lady was published under the title of The Secret History of Vanella, 8vo, 1732. See also Vanella in the Straw, 4to, 1732. In Mr. Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, we find some observations respecting the lines in question :

'In Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes there is the following passage:

"The teeming mother anxious for her race,
Begs for each birth the fortune of a face;
Yet Vane," etc.

'Lord Hailes told him [Johnson] he was mistaken in the instances he had given of unfortunate fair ones, for neither Vane nor Sedley had a title to that description.' His lordship therefore thought fit that the lines should rather have run thus:

Yet Shore could tell

And Valiere cursed

'Our friend (he adds in a subsequent note addressed to Mr. Boswell on this subject) chose Vane, who was far from being well-looked, and Sedley, who was so ugly that Charles II. said his brother had her by way of penance.'-M.]

Yet Garrick knew well that without some alterations it would not be fit for the stage. A violent dispute having ensued between them, Garrick applied to the Reverend Dr. Taylor to interpose. Johnson was at first very obstinate. 'Sir (said he), the fellow wants me to make Mahomet run mad, that he may have an opportunity of tossing his hands and kicking his heels."1 He was, however, at last, with difficulty, prevailed on to comply with Garrick's wishes, so as to allow of some changes; but still there were not enough.

Dr. Adams was present the first night of the representation of Irene, and gave me the following account: 'Before the curtain drew up, there were cat-calls whistling, which alarmed Johnson's friends. The Prologue, which was written by himself in a manly strain, soothed the audience, and the play went off tolerably till it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. Pritchard, the heroine of the piece, was to be strangled upon the stage, and was to speak two lines with the bow-string round her neck. The audience cried out 'Murder!

1 Mahomet was in fact played by Mr. Barry, and Demetrius by Mr. Garrick but probably at this time the parts were not yet cast.

2 The expression used by Dr. Adams was 'soothed.' I should rather think the audience was awed by the extraordinary spirit and dignity of the following lines:

'Be this at least his praise, be this his pride,
To force applause no modern arts are tried;
Should partial cat-calls all his hopes confound,
He bids no trumpet quell the fatal sound;
Should welcome sleep relieve the weary wit,
He rolls no thunders o'er the drowsy pit;
No snares to captivate the judgment spreads,
Nor bribes your eyes to prejudice your heads.
Unmoved, though witlings sneer and rivals rail,
Studious to please, yet not ashamed to fail,
He scorns the meek address, the suppliant strain,
With merit needless, and without it vain;
In Reason, Nature, Truth, he dares to trust;
Ye fops, be silent, and, ye wits, be just !'

Murder!' She several times attempted to speak, but in vain. At last she was obliged to go off the stage alive. This passage was afterwards struck out, and she was carried off to be put to death behind the scenes, as the play now has it. The Epilogue, as Johnson informed me, was written by Sir William Yonge. I know not how his play came to be thus graced by the pen of a person then so eminent in the political world.

Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as Garrick, Barry, Mrs. Cibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every advantage of dress and decoration, the tragedy of Irene did not please the public. Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it through for nine nights, so that the author had his three nights' profits; and from a receipt signed by him, now in the hands of Mr. James Dodsley, it appears that his friend, Mr. Robert Dodsley, gave him £100 for the copy, with his usual reservation of the right of one edition.

Irene, considered as a poem, is entitled to the praise of superior excellence. Analysed into parts, it will furnish a rich store of noble sentiments, fine imagery, and beautiful language; but it is deficient in pathos,

1 [This shows how ready modern audiences are to condemn in a new play what they have frequently endured very quietly in an old one. Rowe has made Moneses in Tamerlane die by the bow-string, without offence.-M.]

2 [I know not what Sir John Hawkins means by the cold reception of Irene. [See note, p. 164.] I was at the first representation and most of the subsequent. It was much applauded the first night, particularly the speech on to-morrow. It ran nine nights at least. It did not indeed become a stock play, but there was not the least opposition during the representation, except in the first night in the last act, where Irene was to be strangled on the stage, which John could not bear, though a dramatic poet may stab or slay by hundreds. bow-string was not a Christian nor an ancient Greek or Roman death. But this offence was removed after the first night and Irene went off the stage to be strangled. Many stories were circulated at the time of the author's being observed at the representation to be dissatisfied with some of the speeches and conduct of the play, himself; and, like Lafontaine, expressing his disapprobation aloud.-BURNEY.]

The

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