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be the worse for being in Parliament, because you would be obliged to live more expensively."-BOSWELL. "Perhaps, sir, I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I never would sell my vote, and I should be vexed if things went wrong." JOHNSON. "That's cant, sir. It would not vex you more in the house than in the gallery: publick affairs vex no man."-BOSWELL. "Have not they vexed yourself a little, sir? Have not you been vexed by all the turbulence of this reign, and by that absurd vote of the House of Commons, That the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished?"" JOHNSON. Sir, I have never slept an hour less, nor eat an ounce less meat. I would have knocked the factious dogs on the head, to be sure; but I was not vexed." BOSWELL. "I declare, sir, upon my honour, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a pride in it; but it was, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither eat less nor slept less." JOHNSON. "My dear friend, clear your mind of cant. You may talk as other people do you may say to a man, Sir, I am your most humble servant.' You are not his most humble servant. You may say, 'These are bad times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to such times.' You don't mind the times. You tell a man, I am sorry you had such bad weather the last day of your journey, and were so much wet.' You don't care sixpence whether he is wet or dry. You may talk in this manner; it is a mode of talking in society but don't think foolishly."

I talked of living in the country. JOHNSON. "Don't set up for what is called hospitality it is a waste of time and a waste of money; you are eaten up, and not the more respected for your liberality. If your house be like an inn, nobody cares for you. A man who stays a week with another makes him a slave for a week." BOSWELL." But there are people, sir, who make their houses a home to their guests, and are themselves quite easy." JOHNSON. "Then, sir, home must be the same to the guests, and they need not come."

Here he discovered a notion common enough in persons not much accustomed to entertain company, that there must be a degree of elaborate attention, otherwise company will think themselves neglected; and such attention is no doubt very fatiguing. He proceeded: "I would not, however, be a stranger in my own country; I would visit my neighbours, and receive their visits; but I would not be in haste to return visits. If a gentleman comes to see me, I tell him he does me a great deal of honour. I do not go to

see him, perhaps, for ten weeks; then we are very complaisant to each other. No, sir, you will have much more influence by giving or lending money where it is wanted than by hospitality."

On Saturday, May 17, I saw him for a short time. Having mentioned that I had that morning been with old Mr. Sheridan, he remembered their former intimacy with a cordial warmth, and said to me, "Tell Mr. Sheridan I shall be glad to see him, and shake hands with him." BoSWELL. "It is to me very wonderful that resentment should be kept up so long." JOHNSON. "Why, sir, it is not altogether resentment that he does not visit me; it is partly falling out of the habit,-partly disgust, as one has at a drug that has made him sick. Besides, he knows that I laugh at his oratory.”

Another day I spoke of one of our friends, of whom he, as well as I, had a very high opinion. He expatiated in his praise; but added, "Sir, he is a cursed Whig, a bottomless Whig, as they all are now."

I mentioned my expectations from the interest of an eminent person then in power; adding, "but I have no claim but the claim of friendship; however, some people will go a great way for that motive." JOHNSON. "Sir, they will go all the way from that motive.' A gentleman talked of retiring. "Never think of that," said Johnson. The gentleman urged, "I should then do no ill." JOHNSON. "Nor no good either. Sir, it would be a civil suicide."

On Monday, May 26, I found him at tea, and the celebrated Miss Burney, the authour of "Evelina" and "Cecilia," with him. I asked, if there would be any speakers in Parliament, if there were no places to be obtained. JOHNsoN. "Yes, sir. Why do you speak here? Either to instruct and entertain, which is a benevolent motive; or for distinction, which is a selfish motive." I mentioned "Cecilia." JOHNSON (with an air of animated satisfaction). “Sir, if you talk of Cecilia,' talk on."

We talked of Mr. Barry's exhibition of his pictures. JOHNSON. "Whatever the hand may have done, the mind has done its part. There is a grasp of mind there which you find nowhere else."

I asked, whether a man naturally virtuous, or one who has overcome wicked inclinations, is the best. JOHNSON. "Sir, to you, the man who has overcome wicked inclinations is not the best. He has more merit to himself: I would rather trust' my money to a man who has no hands,"

scription of these pictures, he speaks of JohnIn Mr. Barry's printed analysis, or desou's character in the highest terms.

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and so a physical impossibility to steal, than to a man of the most honest principles. There is a witty satirical story of Foote. He had a small bust of Garrick placed upon his bureau. You may be surprised (said he) that I allow him to be so near my gold;-but you will observe, he has no hands.""

On Friday, May 29, being to set out for Scotland next morning, I passed a part of the day with him in more than usual earnestness; as his health was in a more precarious state than at any time when I had parted from him. He, however, was quick and lively and critical as usual. I mentioned one who was a very learned man. JOHNSON." Yes, sir, he has a great deal of learning; but it never lies straight. There is never one idea by the side of another; 'tis all entangled: and then he drives it so awkwardly upon

conversation!"

I stated to him an anxious thought, by which a sincere Christian might be disturbed, even when conscious of having lived a good life, so far as is consistent with human infirmity; he might fear that he should afterwards fall away, and be guilty of such crimes as would render all his former religion vain. Could there be, upon this awful subject, such a thing as balancing of accounts? Suppose a man, who has led a good life for seven years, commits an act of wickedness and instantly dies; will his former good life have any effect in his favour? JOHNSON. "Sir, if a man has led a good life for seven years, and then is hurried by passion to do what is wrong, and is suddenly carried off, depend upon it he will have the reward of his seven years' good life: GOD will not take a catch of him. Upon this principle Richard Baxter believes that a suicide may be saved. If (says he) it should be objected that what I maintain may encourage suicide, I answer, I am not to tell a lie to prevent it.'" BoswELL. "But does not the text say, As the tree falls so it must lie?"" JOHNSON. "Yes, sir; as the tree falls: but,-(after a little pause)-that is meant as to the general state of the tree, not what is the effect of a sudden blast." In short, he interpreted the expression as referring to condition, not to position. The common notion, therefore, seems to be erroneous; and Shenstone's witty remark on Divines trying to give the tree a jerk upon a deathbed, to make it lie favourably, is not well founded.

I asked him what works of Richard Baxter's I should read. He said, "Read any of them; they are all good."

He said, "Get as much force of mind as you can. Live within your income. Always have something saved at the end

of the year. Let your imports be more than your exports, and you'll never go far wrong."

I assured him that, in the extensive and various range of his acquaintance, there never had been any one who had a more sincere respect and affection for him than I had. He said, "I believe it, sir. Were I in distress, there is no man to whom I should sooner come than to you. I should like to come and have a cottage in your park, toddle about, live mostly on milk, and be taken care of by Mrs. Boswell. She and I are good friends now; are we not?"

Talking of devotion, he said, "Though it be true that Gon dwelleth not in temples made with hands,' yet in this state of being our minds are more piously affected in places appropriated to divine worship than in others. Some people have a particular room in their houses where they say their prayers; of which I do not disapprove, as it may animate their devotion."

He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual when I was leaving him for any length of time. I walked from his door to-day with a fearful apprehension of what might happen before I returned.

"TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM

WINDHAM.

SIR, "THE bringer of this letter is the father of Miss Philips *, a singer, who comes to try her voice on the stage at Dublin. and as I am of opinion that neither he "Mr. Philips is one of my old friends; nor his daughter will do any thing that liberty of entreating you to countenance can disgrace their benefactors, I take the able to your station + and character; and and protect them so far as may be snitshall consider myself as obliged by any favourable notice which they shall have the honour of receiving from you. "I am, SIR,

"Your most humble servant,
"SAM. JOHNSON."

"London, May 31, 1783."

The following is another instance of his active benevolence.

66 TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS,

DEAR SIR,

"I HAVE sent you some of my godson's performances, of which I do not pretend to form any opinion. When I took the liberty of mentioning him to you, I did

Now the celebrated Mrs. Crouch.

+ Mr. Windham was at this time in Dublin, Secretary to the Earl of Northington, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.

Son of Mr. Samuel Patterson,

not know what I have since been told, that Mr. Moser had admitted him among the students of the Academy. What more can be done for him, I earnestly entreat you to consider; for I am very desirous that he should derive some advantage from my connexion with him. If you are inclined to see him, I will bring him to wait on you, at any time that you shall be pleased to appoint. I am, sir,

"Your most humble servant, June 2, 1763." "SAM. JOHNSON."

My anxious apprehensions at parting with him this year proved to be but too well founded, for not long afterwards he had a dreadful stroke of the palsy, of which there are very full and accurate accounts in letters written by himself, to show with what composure of mind, and resignation to the Divine Will, his steady piety enabled him to behave.

"TO MR. EDMUND ALLEN. "DEAR SIR,

"IT has pleased GOD, this morning, to deprive me of the powers of speech; and as I do not know but that it may be his further good pleasure to deprive me soon of my senses, I request you will, on the receipt of this note, come to me, and act for me, as the exigencies of my case may require. I am,

"Sincerely yours,

"June 17, 1783." "SAM. JOHNSON." "TO THE REVEREND DR. JOHN TAYLOR.

"DEAR SIR,

"IT has pleased GOD, by a paralytic stroke in the night, to deprive me of speech.

"I am very desirous of Dr. Heberden's assistance, as I think my case is not past remedy. Let me see you as soon as it is possible. Bring Dr. Heberden with you, if you can; but come yourself at all events. I am glad you are so well when I am so dreadfully attacked.

I

"I think that by a speedy application of stimulants much may be done. question if a vomit, vigorous and rough, would not rouse the organs of speech to action. As it is too early to send, I will try to recollect what I can, that can be suspected to have brought on this dreadful distress.

"I have been accustomed to bleed frequently for an asthmatick complaint; but have forborne for some time by Dr. Pepys's persuasion, who perceived my legs beginning to swell. I sometimes alleviate a painful, or more properly an oppressive constriction of my chest by opiates; and have lately taken opium frequently, but the last, or two last times, in smaller quantities. My largest dose is three grains, and last night I took but

two. You will suggest these things (and they are all that I can call to mind) to Dr. Heberden. I am, &c.

"June 17, 1783." "SAM. JOHNSON."

Two days after he wrote thus to Mrs. Thrale *:

"On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture, and walked a considerable way

with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and evening I felt myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus I went to bed, and in a short time waked and sat up, as has been long my custom, when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, which lasted, I suppose, about half a minute. I was alarmed, and prayed GOD that, however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding. This prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made in Latin verse. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not to be very good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpaired in my faculties.

suffered a paralytick stroke, and that my "Soon after I perceived that I had speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little dejection in this dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and considered that perhaps death itself, when it should come, would excite less horrour than seems now to attend it.

"In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has been cele

brated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violent motion, and I think repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed, and strange as it may seem, I think slept. When I saw light,

it was time to contrive what I should do.

Though GOD stopped my speech, he left me my hand; I enjoyed a mercy which was not granted to my dear friend Lawrence, who now perhaps overlooks me as I am writing, and rejoices that I have what he wanted. My first note was ne cessarily to my servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend why he should read what I put into his hands.

"I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen that I might have a discreet friend at hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note I had some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I then wrote to Dr. Taylor to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden: and I sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very friendly, and give me great hopes; but you may imagine my situation. I have

* Vol. II. p. 268 of Mrs. Thrale's Collec

tion."

"TO MR. THOMAS DAVIES. "DEAR SIR,

I

so far recovered my vocal powers, as to | required, and from that time I have been repeat the Lord's Prayer with no very continually improving in articulation. imperfect articulation. My memory, I can now speak, but the nerves are weak, hope, yet remains as it was; but such an and I cannot continue discourse long; attack produces solicitude for the safety but strength, I hope, will return. The of every faculty." physicians consider me as cured. I was last Sunday at church. On Tuesday I took an airing to Hampstead, and dined was proposed, and, against my opinion, with the Club, where Lord Palmerston was rejected t. I designed to go next week with Mr. Langton to Rochester, where I purpose to stay about ten days, and then try some other air. I have many kind invitations. Your brother has very frequently inquired after me. Most of my friends have, indeed, been very attentive. Thank dear Lord Hailes for his present.

“I HAVE had, indeed, a very heavy blow; but GOD, who yet spares my life, I humbly hope will spare my understanding, and restore my speech. As I am not at all helpless I want no particular assistance, but am strongly affected by Mrs. Davies's tenderness; and when I think she can do me good, shall be very glad to call upon her. I had ordered friends to be shut out; but one or two have found the way in; and if you come, you shall be admitted: for I know not whom I can see that will bring more amusement on his tongue, or more kindness in his heart. I am, &c.

"June 18, 1783." "SAM. JOHNSON."

It gives me great pleasure to preserve such a memorial of Johnson's regard for Mr. Davies, to whom I was indebted for my introduction to him*.-He indeed loved Davies cordially, of which I shall give the following little evidence. One day when he had treated him with too much asperity, Tom, who was not without pride and spirit, went off in a passion; but he had hardly reached home, when Frank, who had been sent after him, delivered this note:-"Come, come, dear Davies, I am always sorry when we quarrel; send me word that we are

friends."

"TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

"DEAR SIR,

"YOUR anxiety about my health is very friendly, and very agreeable with your general kindness. I have, indeed, had a very frightful blow. On the 17th of last month, about three in the morning, as near as I can guess, I perceived myself almost totally deprived of speech. I had no pain. My organs were so obstructed that I could say no, but could scarcely say yes. I wrote the necessary directions, for it pleased GOD to spare my hand, and sent for Dr. Heberden and Dr. Brock

lesby. Between the time in which I discovered my own disorder, and that in which I sent for the doctors, I had, I believe, in spite of my surprise and solicitude, a little sleep, and Nature began to renew its operations. They came and gave the directions which the disease

* Poor Derrick, however, though he did not himself introduce me to Dr. Johnson as he promised, had the merit of introducing me to Davies, the immediate introductor,

"I hope you found at your return lady, in particular, quite recovered and every thing gay and prosperous, and your confirmed. Pay her my respects. "I am, DEAR SIR,

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"Your most humble servant,
"SAM. JOHNSON."

"London, July 3, 1783."

TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.

"DEAR MADAM,

"THE account which you give of your GOD to restore you. My disease affected health is but melancholy. May it please my speech, and still continues, in some degree, to obstruct my utterance; my voice is distinct enough for a while; but the organs being still weak, are quickly weary but in other respects I am, I think, rather better than I have lately been; and can let you know my state without the help of any other hand.

"In the opinion of my friends, and in my own, I am gradually mending. The physicians consider me as cured, and I tharides from my head. Last Tuesday I had leave four days ago to wash the candined at the Club.

"I am going next week into Kent, and purpose to change the air frequently this summer; whether I shall wander so far as Staffordshire I cannot tell. I should Mrs. Cobb and Mr. Pearson, and all that be glad to come. Return my thanks to have shown attention to me.

"Let us, my dear, pray for one another, and consider our sufferings as notices mercifully given us to prepare ourselves for another state.

"I live now but in a melancholy way. My old friend Mr. Levett is dead, who lived with me in the house, and was use. ful and companionable; Mrs. Desmonlins is gone away; and Mrs. Williams is so much decayed that she can add little

+ His Lordship was soon after chosen, and is now a member of the Club,

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Such was the general vigour of his constitution that he recovered from this alarming and severe attack with wonderful quickness; so that in July he was able to make a visit to Mr. Langton at Rochester, where he passed about a fortnight, and made little excursions as easily as at any time of his life. In August he went as far as the neighbourhood of Salis bury, to Heale, the seat of William Bowles, Esq. a gentleman whom I have heard him praise for exemplary religious order in his family. In his diary I find á short but honourable mention of this visit:-" August 28, I came to Heale without fatigue. 30, I am entertained quite to my mind *."

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"TO DR. BROCKLESBY.

"Heale, near Salisbury, Aug. 29, 1783. "DEAR SIR,

"WITHOUT appearing to want a just sense of your kind attention, I cannot omit to give an account of the day which seemed to appear in some sort perilous. I rose at five, and went out at six; and having reached Salisbury about nine, went forward a few miles in my friend's chariot. I was no more wearied with the journey, though it was a high-hung,

[In his letter to Mrs. Thrale, written on the 13th of August, we find the following melancholy paragraph:

"I am now broken with disease, without the alleviation of familiar friendship or domestick society: I have no middle state between clamour and silence, between general Conversation and self-tormenting solitude. Levett is dead, and poor Williams is making haste to die: I know not if she will ever more come out of her chamber."

In a subsequent tetter (August 26) he adds, "Mrs. Williams fancies now and then that she grows better, but her vital powers appear to be slowly burning out. Nobody thinks, however, that she will very soon be quite wasted, and as she suffers me to be of very little use to her, I have determined to pass some time with Mr. Bowles near Salisbury, and have taken a place for Thursday.

"Some benefit may be perhaps received from change of air, some from change of company, and some from mere change of place. It is not easy to grow well in a chamber where one has long been sick, and where every thing seen and every person speaking revives and impresses images of pain. Though it be true that no man can run away from himself, yet he may escape from many causes of useless uneasiness. That the mind is its own place is the boast of a fallen angel that had learned to lie. External locality has great effects, at least upon all embodied beings. I hope this little journey will afford me at least some suspense of melancholy." M.]

rough coach, than I should have been forty years ago. We shall now see what air will do. The country is all a plain; and the house in which I am, so far as I can judge from my window, for I write before I have left my chamber, is sufficiently pleasant.

"Be so kind as to continue your attention to Mrs. Williams; it is great consolation to the well, and still greater to the sick, that they find themselves not neglected; and I know that you will be desirous of giving comfort, even where you have no great hope of giving help.

"Since I wrote the former part of the letter, I find that by the course of the post I cannot send it before the thirtyfirst. I am, &c.

"SAM. JOHNSON."

While he was here he had a letter from Dr. Brocklesby, acquainting him of the death of Mrs. Williams+, which affected him a good deal. Though for several years her temper had not been complacent, she had valuable qualities, and her departure left a blank in his house. Upon this occasion he, according to his habitual course of piety, composed a prayer.

concerning him, with which I have been I shall here insert a few particulars favoured by one of his friends.

"He had once conceived the design of writing the Life of Oliver Cromwell; saying, that he thought it must be highly curious to trace his extraordinary rise to the supreme power from so obscure a beginning. He at length laid aside his scheme, on discovering that all that can be told of him is already in print; and that it is impracticable to procure any authentick information in addition to what the world is already possessed of §.

Sept. 9, 1783, he thus writes: "Pray show [In his letter to Miss Susanna Thrale, mamma this passage of a letter from Dr. anition, has at length paid the great debt Brocklesby. Mrs. Williams, from mere in(Sept. 6). She died without a struggle, reto nature about three o'clock this morning taining her faculties to the very last, and, order, was prepared to leave it at the last as she expressed it, having set her house in

summons of nature.""

In his letter to Mrs. Thrale, Sept. 22, he end of her afflictions. She acted with pruadds, "Poor Williams has, I hope, seen the dence, and she bore with fortitude. She has left me.

Thou thy weary task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages.' Had she had good humour and prompt elocution, her universal curiosity and comprehensive knowledge would have made her the delight of all that knew her. She has left her little to your charity school." M.1

Prayers and Meditations, p. 226.

[Mr. Malone observes, "This, however, was entirely a mistake, as appears from the Memoirs published by Mr. Noble. Had John

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