"own imagination." He added, "that he never " wrote any part of his work with equal velo 66 "hour," he faid, was no uncommon effort; "which was fafter than moft perfons could "have transcribed that quantity. In one day "in particular, and that not a very long one, "he wrote twelve pages, more in quantity than "ever he wrote at any other time, except in "the Life of Savage, of which forty-eight pages in octavo were the production of one long day, including a part of the night." In the course of the converfation, he asked, whether any of the family of Faden the printer were living. Being told that the geographer near Charing-crofs was Faden's fon, he faid, after a fhort paufe, "I borrowed a guinea of "his father near thirty years ago; be fo good as to take this, and pay it for me." Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnfon recollected another debt of ten pounds, which he had borrowed from his friend Mr. Hamilton the printer, about twenty years before. He fent the money to Mr. Hai 3 milton milton at his houfe in Bedford Row, with an apology for the length of time. The Reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the meffage, about four or five days before Johnson breathed his laft. Mr. Saftres (whom Dr. Johnson esteemed and mentioned in his will) entered the room during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he faw him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a tone of lamentation, called out, JAM MORITURUS! But the love of life was ftill an active principle. Feeling himself fwelled with the dropfy, he conceived that, by incisions in his legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruikshank apprehended that a mortification might be the confequence; but, to appease a diftempered fancy, he gently lanced the furface. Johnson cried out, Deeper, deeper; I want length of life, and you are afraid of giving "me pain, which I do not value." 66 66 On the 8th of December, the Reverend Mr. Strahan drew his will, by which, after a few legacies, the refidue, amounting to about fifteen hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the Black Black fervant, formerly configned to the tes tator by his friend Dr. Bathurst. The history of a death-bed is painful. Mr. Strahan informs us, that the ftrength of religion prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and his foreboding dread of the Divine Justice fubfided into a pious truft and humble hope of mercy at the Throne of Grace. On Monday the 13th day of December (the last of his existence on this fide the grave), the defire of life returned with all its former vehemence. He still imagined, that, by puncturing his legs relief might be obtained. At eight in the morning he tried the experiment, but no water followed. In an hour or two after, he fell into a doze, and about feven in the evening, expired without a groan. On the 20th of the month his remains, with due folemnities, and a numerous attendance of his friends, were buried in Westminster Abbey, near the foot of Shakspeare's monument, and close to the grave of the late Mr. Garrick. The funeral fervice was read by his friend Dr. Taylor. A black marble over his grave has the fol lowing infcription: i 4 SAMUEL SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D. Anno Domini MDCCLXXXIV. Etatis fuæ LXXV. If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnfon was engaged, we may be able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an eftimate of his genius. As a man, Dr. Johnfon ftands difplayed in open day-light. Nothing remains undiscovered. Whatever he faid is known; and without allowing him the ufual privilege of hazarding fentiments, and advancing positions, for mere amusement, or the pleasure of difcuffion, Criticifm has endeavoured to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never feriously thought. His diary, which has been printed, discovers ftill more. We have before us the very heart of the man, with all his inward confciousness. And yet neither in the open paths of life, nor in his fecret receffes, has any one vice been difcovered. We fee him reviewing every year of his life, and feverely cenfuring himself, for not keeping refolutions, which morbid melancholy, and and other bodily infirmities, rendered imprac ticable. pofing on himself voluntary penance, going through the day with only one cup of tea without milk, and to the laft, amidst paroxyfms and remiffions of illness, forming plans of study and refolutions to amend his life *. Many of his fcruples may be called weaknesses; but they are the weaknesses of a good, a pious, and most excellent man. We fee him for every little defect im His perfon, it is well known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were affected by that diforder, for which, at two years of age, he was prefented to the royal touch. His head shook, and involuntary motions made it uncertain that his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, remain in their proper place. A perfon of Lord Chesterfield's delicacy might in his company be in a fever. He would fometimes of his own accord do things inconfiftent with the established modes of behaviour. Sitting at table with the celebrated Mrs Cholmondeley, who exerted herself to circulate the * On the fubject of voluntary penance fee the Rambler, N° CX. fub |