great use to say much; but books|liams is dying, who was very cheerand company will always supply you ful before and after this awful solemwith materials for your letters to me, nity, and seems to resign herself with as I shall always be pleased to know calmness and hope upon Eternal what you are reading, and with what Mercy. you are pleased; and shall take great I read your last kind letter with delight in knowing what impression great delight; but when I came to new modes or new characters make love and honour, what sprung in my upon you, and to observe with what mind ?-How loved, how honoured attention you distinguish the tem- once, avails thee not. pers, dispositions, and abilities of I sat to Mrs. Reynolds yesterday your companions. for my picture, perhaps the tenth A letter may be always made out time, and I sat near three hours with of the books of the morning or talk the patience of mortal born to bear; of the evening; and any letters from at last she declared it quite finished, you, my dearest, will be welcome to and seems to think it fine. I told your, &c. LETTER L. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale. Madam, her it was Johnson's grimly Ghost. It is to be engraved, and I think in glided, &c. will be a good inscription. I am, madam, your, &c. LETTER LI. London, Aug. 20, 1783. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale. London, Sept. 22, 1783. Dear madam, THIS has been a day of great emotion; the office of the Communion of the Sick has been performed in poor Mrs. Williams's chamber. HAPPY are you that have ease and She was too weak to rise from her leisure to want intelligence of airbed, and is therefore to be supposed balloons. Their existence is, I beunlikely to live much longer. She lieve, indubitable; but I know not has, I hope, little violent pain, but that they can possibly be of any use. is wearing out by torpid inappetence The construction is this:-The chyand wearisome decay: but all the mical philosophers have discovered powers of her mind are in their full a body (which I have forgotten, but vigour; and, when she has spirits will inquire) which, dissolved by an enough for conversation, she pos- acid, emits a vapour lighter than the sesses all the intellectual excellence atmospherical air. This vapour is that she ever had. Surely this is an caught, among other means, by tying instance of mercy much to be desir- a bladder, compressed upon the boted by a parting soul. tle in which the dissolution is per At home I see almost all my com- formed; the vapour rising swells the panions dead or dying. At Oxford bladder, and fills it. The bladder I have just left Wheeler, the man is then tied and removed, and anwith whom I most delighted to con- other applied, till as much of this verse. The sense of my own dis- light air is collected as is wanted. eases, and the sight of the world Then a large spherical case is made, sinking round me, oppress me per- and very large it must be, of the haps too much. I hope that all these lightest matter that can be found, admonitions will not be in vain, and secured by some method, like that that I shall learn to die as dear Wil- of oiling silk, against all passage of LETTER LII. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Chapone. Madam, Nov. 28, 1783. air. Into this are emptied all the bladders of light air, and if there is light air enough it mounts into the clouds; upon the same principle as a bottle, filled with water, will sink in water, but a bottle filled with ether would float. It rises till it comes to By sending the tragedy to me a air of equal tenuity with its own, second time I think that a very hoif wind or water does not spoil it on nourable distinction has been shown the way. Such, madam, is an air-me; and I did not delay the peruballoon. sal, of which I am now to tell the Meteors have been this autumn very often seen, but I have never been in their way. effect. The construction of the play is not completely regular; the stage is hope, seen too often vacant, and the scenes are She acted not sufficiently connected. This, bore with however, would be called, by Dryden, only a mechanical defect; which takes away little from the power of the poem, and which is seen rather than felt. Poor Williams has, I the end of her afflictions. with prudence, and she 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 A rigid examiner of the diction prompt elocution, her universal curi- might, perhaps, wish some words osity and comprehensive knowledge changed, and some lines more viwould have made her the delight of gorously terminated. But from such all that knew her. She left her lit- petty imperfections what writer was ever free? tle to your charity-school. The complaint about which you The general form and force of the inquire is a sarcocele; I thought it a dialogue is of more importance. It hydrocele, and heeded it but little. seems to want that quickness of rePuncture has detected the mistake; ciprocation which characterizes the it can be safely suffered no longer. English drama, and is not always Upon inspection, three days ago, it sufficiently fervid or animated. was determined extrema ventura.* Of the sentiments, I remember If excision should be delayed, there not one that I wished omitted. In is danger of a gangrene. You would the imagery I cannot forbear to disnot have me, for fear of pain, perish tinguish the comparison of joy sucin putrefaction. I shall, I hope, ceeding grief, to light rushing on with trust in Eternal Mercy, lay hold the eye accustomed to darkness. It of the possibility of life which yet seems to have all that can be desired remains. My health is not bad; the to make it please. It is new, just, gout is now trying at my feet. My and delightful.t appetite and digestion are good, and my sleep better than formerly: I am not dejected, and I am not feeble. There is, however, danger enough in such operations at seventy-four. Let me have your prayers and those of the young dear people. I am, dear madam, your, &c. Write soon and often. *To try the last. With the characters, either as con * Dr. Johnson, having been very ill when the tragedy was first sent to him, had declined the consideration of it. "I could have borne my woes; that stran ger Joy Wounds while it smiles:-The long imprison'd wretch, Emerging from the night of his damp cell, ceived or preserved, I have no fault | posture exposes me, but rested all to find; but was much inclined to night in a chair with much relief, congratulute a writer, who, in de- and have been to-day more warm, fiance of prejudice and fashion, made active, and cheerful. our sorrow. the archbishop a good man, and You have more than once wonderscorned all thoughtless applause, ed at my complaint of solitude, when which a vicious churchman would you hear that I am crowded with vihave brought him. sits. Inopem me copia fecit. VisiThe catastrophe is affecting. The tors are no proper companions in the father and daughter both culpable, chamber of sickness. They come both wretched, and both penitent, when I could sleep or read, they divide between them our pity and stay till I am weary, they force me to attend when my mind calls for reThus, madam, I have performed laxation, and to speak when my powwhat I did not willingly undertake, ers will hardly actuate my tongue. and could not decently refuse. The The amusements and consolations noble writer will be pleased to re- of languor and depression are conmember, that sincere criticism ought ferred by familiar and domestic comto raise no resentment, because judg-panions, which can be visited or callment is not under the control of will; ed at will, and can occasionally be but involuntary criticism, as it has quitted or dismissed, who do not obstill less of choice, ought to be more struct accommodation by ceremony, remote from possibility of offence. or destroy indolence by awakening I am, &c. effort. Such society I had with Levet and Williams; such I had where-I am never likely to have it more. I wish, dear lady, to you and my dear girls many a cheerful and pious Christmas. I am, your, &c. LETTER LIV. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale, London, Jan. 12, 1784. THE wearisome solitude of the long evenings did indeed suggest to me the convenience of a club in my neighbourhood, but I have been hindered from attending it by want of Dear madam, breath. If I can complete the scheme, Ir, as you observe, my former letyou shall have the names and the ter was written with trepidation, regulations. there is little reason except the haThe time of the year, for I hope bit of enduring, why this should the fault is rather in the weather show more steadiness. I am confinthan in me, has been very hard upon ed to the house; I do not know that me. The muscles of my breast are any thing grows better; my physimuch convulsed. Dr. Heberden re- cians direct me to combat the hard commends opiates, of which I have weather with. opium; I cannot well such horror, that I do not think of support its turbulence, and yet canthem but in extremes. I was how-not forbear it, for its immediate efever, driven to them last night for fect is ease; having kept me waking refuge, and, having taken the usual all the night, it forces sleep upon me quantity, durst not go to bed, for fear of that uneasiness to which a supine * Plenty made me poor. in the day, and recompenses a night what I had to tell him of miseries of tediousness with a day of useless-and pains, and comparing my preness. My legs and my thighs grow sent with my past state, declared me very tumid: in the mean time my ap- well. That his opinion is erroneous, petite is good, and if my physicians I know with too much certainty; do not flatter me death is rushing and yet was glad to hear it, as it But this is the hand of sets extremities at a greater distance: he, who is by his physician thought The first talk of the sick is com- well, is at least not thought in immedimonly of themselves; but if they ate danger, They, therefore, whose talk of nothing else, they cannot attention to me makes them talk of complain if they are soon left without my health, will, I hope, soon not an audience. drop, but lose their subject. But, upon me. God. You observe, madam, that the alas! I had no sleep last night, and balloon engages all mankind, and it sit now panting over my paper. is indeed a wonderful and unexpect- Dabit Deus his quoque finem.* I ed addition to human knowledge; have really hope from spring; and but we have a daring projector, who, am ready, like Almanzor, to bid the disdaining the help of fumes and sun fly swiftly, and leave weeks and vapours, is making better than Dæda- months behind him. The sun has lean wings, with which he will mas-looked for six thousand years upon ter the balloon and its companions the world to little purpose, if he does as an eagle masters a goose. It is not know that a sick man is almost very seriously true, that a subscrip- as impatient as a lover. tion of eight hundred pounds has Mr. Cator gives such an account been raised for the wire and work- of miss Cecy, as you and all of us manship of iron wings; one pair of must delight to hear. Cator has a which, and I think a tail, are now rough, manly, independent undershown in the Hay-market, and they standing, and does not spoil it by are making another pair at Birming- complaisance; he never speaks mereham. The whole is said to weigh ly to please, and seldom is mistaken two hundred pounds-no specious in things which he has any right to preparation for flying; but there are know. I think well of her for pleasthose who expect to see him in the ing him, and of him for being pleassky. When I can leave the house I ed; and, at the close, am delighted will tell you more. to find him delighted with her excel I had the same old friends to dine lence. Let your children, dear mawith me on Wednesday, and may dam, be his care, and your pleasure; say, that since I lost sight of you I close your thoughts upon them; and, have had one pleasant day. I am, when sad fancies are excluded, health madam, your, &c. and peace will return together. I Pray send me a direction to sir am, dear madam, your old friend. Musgrave in Ireland. LETTER LV. LETTER LVI. Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Thrale. Dr. Johnson to Lord Chancellor Sept. 1784. London. Jan. 21, 1784. My lord, Dear madam, AFTER a long and not inattentive DR. HEBERDEN this day favoured observation of mankind, the generome with a visit; and after hearing * God shall put an end to these things. sity of your lordship's offer raises in ter I should not be willing, if much me not less wonder than gratitude. worse, not able to migrate. Bounty so liberally bestowed I should Your lordship was first solicited gladly receive if my condition made without my knowledge; but when I it necessary; for to such a mind who was told that you were pleased to would not be proud to own his obliga-honour me with your patronage, I tions? But it has pleased God to re- did not expect to hear of a refusal; store me to so great a measure of health, yet as I have had no long time to that if I should now appropriate so brood hope, and have not rioted in much of a fortune destined to do good, imaginary opulence, this cold recepI could not escape from myself the tion has been scarce a disappointcharge of advancing a false claim. ment; and from your lordship's My journey to the continent, though kindness I have received a benefit I once thought it necessary, was which only men like you are able to never much encouraged by my phy-bestow. I shall now live mihi carior, sicians, and I was very desirous that with a higher opinion of my own your lordship should be told of it by merit. I am, my lord, your lordsir Joshua Reynolds as an event very ships most obliged, most grateful, uncertain; for if I grew much bet- and most humble servant. SECTION II. FROM THE LETTERS OF WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. LETTER I. To Joseph Hill, Esq. |my brother, and came hither on the twenty-second. I have a lodging that puts me continually in mind of our summer excursions; we have Huntingdon, June 24, 1765. had many worse, and except the size Dear Joe, of it (which however is sufficient for THE only recompense I can make a single man) but few better. I am you for your kind attention to my af-not quite alone, having brought a fairs, during my illness, is to tell you, servant with me from St. Alban's, that by the mercy of God I am re- who is the very mirror of fidelity and stored to perfect health, both of mind affection for his master. And whereand body. This, I believe, will give as the Turkish Spy says, he kept no you pleasure, and I would gladly do servant because he would not have an any thing from which you could re-enemy in his house, I hired mine because I would have a friend. Men I left St. Alban's on the seven-do not usually bestow these encomiteenth, and arrived that day at Cam- ums on their lackeys, nor do they bridge, spent some time there with usually deserve them; but I have ceive it. |