gave him a look of great contempt, and ridiculed the judging of his disorder by the pulse. He complained, that the sarcocele had again made its appearance, and asked if a puncture would not relieve him, as it had done the year before? The doctor answered, that it might, but that his surgeon was the best judge of the effect of such an operation. Johnson, upon this, said, "How many men in a year die through the timidity of those whom they consult for health! I want length of life, and you fear giving me pain, which I care not for."

8th. I visited him with Mr. Langton, and found him dictating to Mr. Strahan another will, the former being, as he had said at the time of making it, a temporary one. On our entering the room, he said, "God bless you both." I arrived just time enough to direct the execution, and also the attestation of it. After he had published it, he desired Mr. Strahan to say the Lord's Prayer, which he did, all of us joining. Johnson, after it, uttered, extempore, a few pious ejaculations.

9th. I saw him in the evening, and found him dictating to Mr. Strahan a codicil to the will he had made the evening before. I assisted them in it, and received from the testator a direction, to insert a devise to his executors of the house at Lichfield, to be sold for the benefit of certain of his relations, a bequest of sundry pecuniary and specific legacies, a provision for the annuity of 701. for Francis, and, after all, a devise of all the rest, residue, and remainder of his estate and effects, to his executors, in trust for the said Francis Barber, his executors and administrators; and having dictated accordingly, Johnson executed and published it as a codicil to his will.

He was now so weak as to be unable to kneel, and lamented that he must pray sitting; but, with an effort, he placed himself on his knees, while Mr. Strahan repeated the Lord's Prayer. During the whole of the evening he was much composed and resigned. Being become very weak and helpless, it was thought necessary that a man should watch with him all night; and one was found in the neighbourhood, who, for half a crown a night, undertook to sit up with and assist him. When the man had left the room, he, in the presence and hearing of Mr. Strahan and Mr. Langton, asked me where I meant to bury him. I answered, doubtless, in Westminster Abbey: "If," said he, "my executors think it proper to mark the spot of my interment by a stone, let it be so placed as to protect my body from injury." I assured him it should be done. Before my departure, he desired Mr. Langton to put into my hands money to the amount of upwards of 1007. with a direction to keep it tin called for.

10th. This day at noon I saw him again. He said to me, that the male nurse to whose care I had committed him was unfit for the office. "He is," said he, "an idiot, as awkward as a turnspit just put into the wheel, and as sleepy as a dormouse." Mr. Cruikshank came into the room, and looking on his scarified leg saw no sign of a mortification.

11th. At noon, I found him dozing, and would not disturb him.

12th Saw him again; found him very weak, and, as he said, unable to pray.

13th. At noon I called at the house, but went not into his room, being told that he was dozing. I was further informed by the servants that his appetite was totally gone, and that he could take no sustenance. At eight in the evening of the same day, word was brought me by Mr. Sastres, to whom, in his last moments, he uttered these words, "Jam moriturus," that at a quarter past seven, he had, without a groan, or the least sign of pain or uneasiness, yielded his last breath.

At eleven, the same evening, Mr. Langton came to me, and, in an agony of mind, gave me to understand that our friend had wounded himself in several parts of the body. I was shocked at the news; but, upon being told that he had not touched any vital part, was easily able to account for an action, which would else have given us the deepest concern. The fact was, that, conceiving himself to be full of water, he had done that, which he had so often solicited his medical assistants to do, made two or three incisions in his lower limbs, vainly hoping for some relief from the flux that might follow.

Early the next morning, Frank came to me; and, being desirous of knowing all the particulars of this transaction, I interrogated him very strictly concerning it, and received from him answers to the following effect: —

1 There seems something strange in this affair of the will. Why did Johnson, after employing Sir J. Hawkins, a professional and in every other respect a proper person to draw up his will, throw it aside, and dictate another to a young clergyman? Had Sir J. Hawkins attempted to thwart the testator's intentions, which he tells us he disapproved of? or was this change the result of the scene of the 5th about the secreted books? In any case, it may have tended to produce that unfavourable temper towards Dr. Johnson which tinges the whole, and certainly discolours some passages of Sir J. Hawkins's book. CROKER.

2 The clumsy solemnity with which Hawkins thinks it necessary to defend Dr. Johnson from the suspicion of eudeavouring to shorten his life by an act manifestly, avowedly,

That, at eight in the morning of the preceding day, unen going into the bedchamber, his master, being in bed, ordered him to open a cabinet, and give him a drawer in it; that he did so, and that out of it his master took a case of lancets, and choosing one of them, would have conveyed it into the bed, which Frank and a young man that sat up with him ve. ing, they seized his hand, and entreated him not to do a rab action: he said he would not; but drawing his hand under the bed-clothes, they saw his arm move. Upon this they turned down the clothes, and saw a great effusion of blood, which soon stopped; that soon after, he got at a pair of scissors that lay in a drawer by him, and plunged them deep in the calf of each leg, that immediately they sent for Mr. Cruikshank and the apothecary, and they, or one of them. dressed the wounds; that he then fell into that dozing which carried him off; that it was conjectured he lost eight or ten ounces of blood; and that this effusion brought on the dozing, though his pulse continued firm till three o'clock.

That this act was not done to hasten his end, but to discharge the water that he conceived to be in him, I have not the least doubt. A dropsy was his disease; he looked upon himself as a bloated carcase; and, to attain the power of easy respiration, would have undergone any degree of temporary pain. He dreaded neither punctures nor incisions, and, indeed, defied the trochar and the lancet; be had often reproached his physicians and surgeon with cowardice; and when Mr. Cruikshank scarified his leg, he cried out, "Deeper, deeper; I will abide the consequence: you are afraid of your reputation, but that is nothing to me." To those about h he said, "You all pretend to love me, but you do not love me so well as I myself do."

I have been thus minute in regarding the particulars of his last moments, because I wished to attract attention to the conduct of this great man, under the most trying circamstances human nature is subject to. Many persons have appeared possessed of more serenity of mind in this as fol scene; some have remained unmoved at the dissolution of the vital union; and it may be deemed a discouragement from the severe practice of religion, that Dr. Johnson, whose whole life was a preparation for his death, and a conflict with natural infirmity, was disturbed with terror at the prospect of the grave. 3 Let not this relax the circumspection of any one. It is true, that natural firmness of spirit, or the confdence of hope, may buoy up the mind to the last; but, however heroic an undaunted death may appear, it is not what we should pray for. As Jolinson lived the life of the righteous, his end was that of a Christian; he strictly fulfilled the injunction of the apostle, to work out his salvation with fear and trembling; and though his doubts and scruples were certainly very distressing to himself, they give his friends a pious hope, that he who added to almost all the virtues of Christianity that religious humility which its great teacher inculcated, will, in the fulness of time, receive the reward promised to a patient continuance in well-doing.

§3. BY J. HOOLE, ESQ.4

(Extracted from the European Magazine for September, 1799.)

Saturday. Nov. 20. 1784. This evening. about eight o'clock, I paid a visit to my dear friend Dr. Johnson, whore I found very ill and in great dejection of spirits. We had a most affecting conversation on the subject of religion, in which he exhorted me, with the greatest warmth of kindness, to attend closely to every religious duty, and particu larly enforced the obligation of private prayer and recen. ing the sacrament. He desired me to stay that night and join in prayer with him; adding, that he always wet to prayer every night with his man Francis. He conjured me to read and meditate upon the Bible, and not to throw it aside for a play or a novel. He said he had hims: F lived in great negligence of religion and worship for forty years; that he had neglected to read his Bible, and had often reflected what he could hereafter say when he should be

and even passionately meant to prolong it, was certainly supererogative; but does not, I think, justify Mr. Boswells suspicion (anté, p. 801. n. 1.), that there was some malerolence at the bottom of the defence. - CROKER.

3 Hawkins seems to confound two different periods. At the first appearance of danger, Dr. Johnson exhibited great, and perhaps gloomy anxiety, which, however, under the gradual effect of religious contemplations and devotional exercises, gave way to more comfortable hopes suggested by a lively faith in the propitiatory merits of his Redeemer. In this tranquillised disposition the last days of his life seem to have been passed, and in this Christian confidence it is believed that he died. - CROKER.

4 See antè, p. 804. — C.

asked why he had not read it. He pegged me repeatedly to let his present situation have due effect upon me; and advised me, when I got home, to note down in writing what had passed between us, adding, that what a man writes in that manner dwells upon his mind. He said many things that I cannot now recollect, but all delivered with the utmost fervour of religious zeal and personal affection. Between nine and ten o'clock his servant Francis came up stairs: he then said we would all go to prayers, and, desiring me to kneel down by his bed-side, he repeated several prayers with great devotion. I then took my leave. He then pressed me to think of all he had said, and to commit it to writing. I assured him I would. He seized my hand with much warmth, and repeated, "Promise me you will do it:" on which we parted, and I engaged to see him the next day.

Sunday, Nov. 21. About noon I again visited him; found him rather better and easier, his spirits more raised, and his conversation more disposed to general subjects. When I came in, he asked if I had done what he desired (meaning the noting down what passed the night before), and upon my saying that I had, he pressed my hand and said earnestly, "Thank you." Our discourse then grew more cheerful. He told me, with apparent pleasure, that he heard the Empress of Russia had ordered "The Rambler" to be translated into the Russian language, and that a copy would be sent him. [p. 755.] Before we parted, he put into my hands a little book, by Fleetwood, on the Sacrament, which he told me he had been the means of introducing to the University of Oxford by recommending it to a young student there.

Monday, Nov. 22. Visited the Doctor: found him seemingly better of his complaints, but extremely low and dejected. I sat by him till he fell asleep, and soon after left him, as he seemed little disposed to talk; and, on my going away, he said, emphatically, I am very poorly indeed!"

Tuesday, Nov. 23. Called about eleven: the Doctor not up: Mrs. Gardiner in the dining-room: the Doctor soon came to us, and seemed more cheerful than the day before, He spoke of his design to invite a Mrs. Hall [Wesley's sister] to be with him, and to offer her Mrs. Williams's room. Called again about three: found him quite oppressed with company that morning, therefore left him directly.

Wednesday, Nov. 24. Called about seven in the evening: found him very ill and very low indeed. He said a thought had struck him that his rapid decline of health and strength might be partly owing to the town air, and spoke of getting a lodging at Islington. I sat with him till past nine, and then took my leave.

Thursday, Nov. 25. - About three in the afternoon was told that he had desired that day to see no company. In the evening, about eight, called with Mr. Nicol, and, to our great surprise, we found him then setting out for Islington, to the Rev. Mr. Strahan's. He could scarce speak. We went with him down the court to the coach. He was accompanied by his servant Frank and Mr. Lowe the painter. I offered myself to go with him, but he declined it.

Friday, Nov. 26. Called at his house about cleven: heard he was much better, and had a better night than he had known a great while, and was expected home that day. Called again in the afternoon-not so well as he was, nor expected home that night.

Saturday, Nov. 27. Called again about noon: heard he was much worse: went immediately to Islington, where I found him extremely bad, and scarce able to speak, with the asthma. Sir John Hawkins, the Rev. Mr. Strahan, and Mrs Strahan, were with him. Observing that we said little, he desired that we would not constrain ourselves, though he was not able to talk with us. Soon after he said he had something to say to Sir John Hawkins, on which we immediately went down into the parlour. Sir John soon followed us, and said he had been speaking about his will Sir John started the idea of proposing to him to make it on the spot; that Sir John should dictate it, and that I should write it. He went up to propose it, and soon came down with the Doctor's acceptance. The will was then begun; but before we proceeded far, it being necessary, on account of some alteration, to begin again, Sir John asked the Doctor whether he would choose to make any introductory declaration respecting his faith. The Doctor said he would. Sir John further asked if he would make any declaration of his being of the church of England: to which the Doctor said "No! but, taking a pen, he wrote on a paper the following words, which he delivered to Sir John, desiring him to keep it: "I commit to the infinite mercies of Almighty God my soul, polluted with many sins; but purified, I trust, with repentance and the death of Jesus Christ." While he was at Mr. Strahan's, Dr. Brocklesby came in, and Dr. Johnson put the question to him, whether he thought he could live six weeks? to which Dr. Brocklesby returned a very doubtful answer, and soon left us. After dinner the will was finished, and about six we came to town in Sir John Hawkins's

1 Mr. George Nicol, of Pall Mall. J. Hoole.

2 This alludes to an application made for an increase to his pension, to enable him to go to Italy. J. HOOLE.

Sic; probably an error of the press for C▬▬▬▬▬r, meaning the Lord Chancellor: see antè, p. 788. — CROKER.

carriage; Sir John, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Ryland (who came in after dinner), and myself. The Doctor appeared much better in the way home, and talked pretty cheerfully.

Sunday, Nov. 28. Went to Dr. Johnson's about two o'clock: met Mrs. Hoole coming from thence, as he was asleep took her back with me: found Sir John Hawkins with him. The Doctor's conversation tolerably cheerful. Sir John reminded him that he had expressed a desire to leave some small memorials to his friends, particularly a Polyglot Bible to Mr. Langton; and asked if they should add the codicil then. The Doctor replied, he had forty things to add, but could not do it at that time." Sir John then took his leave. Mr. Sastres came next into the diningroom, where I was with Mrs. Hoole. Dr. Johnson hearing that Mrs. Hoole was in the next room, desired to see her. He received her with great affection, took her by the hand, and said nearly these words: "I feel great tenderness or you think of the situation in which you see me, profit by it, and God Almighty keep you for Jesus Christ's sake, Amen." He then asked if we would both stay and dine with him. Mrs. Hoole said she could not; but I agreed to stay. Upon my saying to the Doctor that Dr. Heberden would be with him that morning, his answer was, "God has cailed me, and Dr. Heberden comes too late." Soon after this Dr. Heberden came. While he was there, we heard them, from the other room, in earnest discourse, and found that they were talking over the affair 2 of the K-g and C We over

n. 3

heard Dr. Heberden say, "All you did was extremely proper." After Dr. Heberden was gone, Mr. Sastres and I returned into the chamber. Dr. Johnson complained that sleep this day had powerful dominion over him, that he waked with great difficulty, and that probably he should go off in one of these paroxysms. Afterwards he said that he hoped his sleep was the effect of opium taken some days before, which might not be worked off. We dined together the Doctor, Mr. Sastres, Mrs. Davis, and myself. He ate a pretty good dinner with seeming appetite, but appearing rather impatient; and being asked unnecessary and frivolous questions, he said he often thought of Macbeth," Question enrages him." He retired immediately after dinner, and we soon went, at his desire (Mr. Sastres and myself), and sat with him till tea. He said little, but dozed at times. At six be ordered tea for us, and we went out to drink it with Mrs. Davis; but the Doctor drank none. The Rev. Dr. Taylor, of Ashbourne, came soon after; and Dr. Johnson desired our attendance at prayers, which were read by Dr. Taylor. Mr. Ryland came and sat some time with him: he thought him much better. Mr. Sastres and I continued with him the remainder of the evening, when he exhorted Mr. Sastres in nearly these words 4: "There is no one who has shown me more attention than you have done, and it is now right you should claim some attention from me. You are a young man, and are to struggle through life: you are in a profession that I dare say you will exercise with great fidelity and innocence; but let me exhort you always to think of my situation, which must one day be yours: always remember that life is short, and that eternity never ends! I say nothing of your religion; for if you conscientiously keep to it, I have little doubt but you may be saved: if you read the controversy, I think we have the right on our side; but if you do not read it, be not persuaded, from any worldly consideration, to alter the religion in which you were educated: change not, but from conviction of reason." He then most strongly enforced the motives of virtue and piety from the consideration of a future state of reward and punishment, and concluded with "Remember all this, and God bless you! Write down what I have said I think you are the third person I have bid do this."5 At ten o'clock he dismissed us, thanking us for a visit which he said could not have been very pleasant to us.

Monday, Nov. 29. Called with my son [the Clergyman] about eleven: saw the Doctor, who said, " You must not now stay" but, as we were going away, he said, "I will get Mr. Hoole to come next Wednesday and read the Litany to me, and do you and Mrs. Hoole come with him." He appeared very ill. Returning from the city I called again to inquire, and heard that Dr. Butter was with him. In the evening, about eight, called again, and just saw him; but did not stay, as Mr. Langton was with him on business. I met Sir Joshua Reynolds going away,

Tuesday, Nov. 30. - Called twice this morning, but did not see him he was much the same. In the evening, between six and seven, went to his house: found there Mr. Langton, Mr. Sastres, and Mr. Ryland: the Doctor being asleep in the chamber, we went all to tea and coffee; when the Doctor came in to us rather cheerful, and entering said, "Dear gentlemen, how do you do?" He drank coffee, and, in the course of the conversation, said that he recollected a poem of his, made some years ago on a young gentleman coming of age. [p. 806.] He repeated the whole with great spirit:

it consisted of about fifteen or sixteen stanzas of four lines, in alternate rhyme. He said he had only repeated it once since he composed it, and that he never gave but one copy. He said several excellent things that evening, and among the rest, that "scruples made many men miserable, but few men good." He spoke of the affectation that men had to accuse themselves of petty faults or weaknesses, in order to exalt themselves into notice for any extraordinary talents which they might possess; and instanced Waller, which he said he would record if he lived to revise his life. Waller was accustomed to say that his memory was so bad he would sometimes forget to repeat his grace at table, or the Lord's Prayer, perhaps that people might wonder at what he did else of great moment; for the Doctor observed, that no man takes upon himself small blemishes without supposing that great abilities are attributed to him; and that, in short, this affectation of candour or modesty was but another kind of indirect self-praise, and had its foundation in vanity. Frank bringing him a note, as he opened it he said an odd thought struck him, that "one should receive no letters in the grave." His talk was in general very serious and devout, though occasionally cheerful: he said, "You are all serious men, and I will tell you something. About two years since I feared that I had neglected God, and that then I had not a mind to give him; on which I set about to read Thomas à Kempis in Low Dutch, which I accomplished, and thence I judged that my mind was not impaired, Low Dutch having no affinity with any of the languages which I knew." With respect to his recovery, he seemed to think it hopeless. There was to be a consultation of physicians next day: he wished to have his legs scarified to let out the water; but this his medical friends opposed, and he submitted to their opinion, though he said he was not satisfied. At half past eight he dismissed us all but Mr. Langton. I first asked him if my son should attend him next day, to read the Litany, as he had desired; but he declined it on account of the expected consultation. We went away, leaving Mr. Langton and Mr. Desmoulins, a young man who was employed in copying his Latin epigrams.

Wednesday, Dec. 1. At his house in the evening: drank tea and coffee; with Mr. Sastres, Mr. Desmoulins, and Mr. Hall 2: went into the Doctor's chamber after tea, when he gave me an epitaph to copy, written by him for his father, mother, and brother. He continued much the same.

Thursday, Dec. 2. Called in the morning, and left the epitaph with him in the evening about seven; found Mr. Langton and Mr. Desmoulins; did not see the Doctor; he was in his chamber, and afterwards engaged with Dr. Scott.

Friday, Dec. 3. Called; but he wished not to see any body. Consultations of physicians to be held that day: called again in the evening; found Mr. Langton with him; Mr. Sastres and I went together into his chamber; he was extremely low. "I am very bad indeed, dear gentlemen," he said; "very bid, very low, very cold, and I think I find my life to fail." In about a quarter of an hour he dismissed Mr. Sastres and me; but called me back again, and said that next Sunday, if he lived, he designed to take the sacrament, and wished me, my wife, and son to be there. We left Mr. Langton with him.

Saturday, Dec. 4.- Called on him about three: he was much the same; did not see him, he had much company that day. Called in the evening with Mr. Sastres about eight; found he was not disposed for company; Mr. Langton with him; did not see him.

Sunday, Dec. 5. Went to Bolt Court with Mrs. Hoole after eleven; found there Sir John Hawkins, Rev. Mr. Strahan, Mrs. Gardiner, and Mr. Desmoulins, in the diningroom. After some time the Doctor came to us from the chamber, and saluted us all, thanking us all for this visit to him. He said he found himself very bad, but hoped he should go well through the duty which he was about to do. The sacrament was then administered to all present, Frank being of the number. The Doctor repeatedly desired Mr. Strahan to speak louder; seeming very anxious not to lose any part of the service, in which he joined in very great fervour of devotion. The service over, he again thanked us all for attending him on the occasion; he said he had taken some opium to enable him to support the fatigue: he seemed quite spent, and lay in his chair some time in a kind of doze: he then got up and retired into his chamber. Mr. Ryland then called on him. I was with them: he said to Mr. Ryland, "I have taken my viaticum: I hope I shall arrive safe at the end of my journey, and be accepted at last." He spoke very despondingly several times: Mr. Ryland comforted him, observing that "we had great hopes given us." "Yes," he replied, we have hopes given us; but they are conditional, and I know not how far I have fulfilled those conditions." He afterwards said, "However, I think that I have now corrected all bad and vicious habits." Sir Joshua Reynolds called on him: we left them together. Sir Joshua being

This note was from Mr. Davies the bookseller, and mentioned a present of some pork; upon which the Doctor said, in a manner that seemed as if he thought it ill-timed, "Too much of this," or some such expression. -J.HOOLE.

gone, he called Mr. Ryland and me again to him: he con. tinued talking very seriously, and repeated a prayer o collect with great fervour, when Mr. Ryland took his leave. My son came to us from his church: we were at dinner. Dr. Johnson, Mrs. Gardiner, myself, Mrs. Hoole, my son, and Mr. Desmoulins. He ate a tolerable dinner, but retired directly after dinner. He had looked out a sermon of Dr. Clarke's," On the Shortness of Life," for me to read to him after dinner, but he was too ill to hear it. After six o'clock he called us all into his room, when he dismissed as for that night with a prayer, delivered as he sat in his great chair in the most fervent and affecting manner, his rind appearing wholly employed with the thoughts of another life. He told Mr. Ryland that he wished not to come to God with opium, but that he hoped he had been properly attentive. He said before us all, that when he recovered the last spring, he had only called it a reprieve, but that he did think it was for a longer time; however he hoped the time that had been prolonged to him might be the means of bringing forth fruit meet for repentance.

Monday, Dec. 6. Sent in the morning to make inquiry after him; he was much the same; called in the evening: F found Mr. Cruikshanks the surgeon with him; he said he had been that day quarrelling with all his physicians; be appeared in tolerable spirits.

Tuesday, Dec. 7. Called at dinner time; saw him eat a very good dinner: he seemed rather better, and in spirits. Wednesday, Dec. 8.- Went with Mrs. Hoole and my son, by appointment; found him very poorly and low, after a very bad night. Mr. Nichols the printer was there. My son read the Litany, the Doctor several times urging haa to speak louder. After prayers Mr. Langton came in; much serious discourse: he warned us all to profit by his situation; and, applying to me, who stood next him, exhorted me ta lead a better life than he had done. "A better life than you, my dear Sir!" I repeated. He replied warmly, Don't compliment now." He told Mr. Langton that he had the night before enforced on 3 a powerful argument to a

powerful objection against Christianity.

He had often thought it might seem strange that the Jews, who refused belief to the doctrine supported by the miracles of our Saviour, should after his death raise a numerous church; but he said that they expected fully a temporal prince, and with this idea the multitude was actuated when they strewed his way with palm-branches on his entry inte Jerusalem; but finding their expectations afterwards disappointed, rejected him, till in process of time, compariag all the circumstances and prophecies of the Old Testament, confirmed in the New, many were converted; that the Apostles themselves once believed him to be a temporal prince. He said that he had always been struck with the resemblance of the Jewish passover and the Christian doctrine of redemption. He thanked us all for our attendance, and we left him with Mr. Langton.

Thursday, Dec. 9. Called in the evening; did not see him, as he was engaged.

Friday, Dec. 10. Called about eleven in the morning; | saw Mr. La Trobe there 4: neither of us saw the Doctor, as 簿 we understood he wished not to be visited that day. In the evening I sent him a letter, recommending Dr. Dalloway (an irregular physician) as an extraordinary person for curing the dropsy. He returned me a verbal answer that be was obliged to me, but that it was too late. My son read prayers with him this day.

Has

Saturday, Dec. 11.-Went to Bolt Court about twelve; met there Dr. Burney, Dr. Taylor, Sir John Hawkins, Mr. Sastres, Mr. Paradise, Count Zenobia, and Mr. Langton. Mrs. Hoole called for me there: we both went to him; he received us very kindly; told me he had my letter, but "it was too late for doctors, regular or irregular. physicians had been with him that day, but prescribed nothing. Mr. Cruikshanks came; the Doctor was rather cheerful with him; he said, "Come, give me your hand," and shook him by the hand, adding, "You shall make no other use of it now;" meaning he should not examine his legs. Mr. Cruikshanks wished to do it, but the Doctor would not let him. Mr. Cruikshanks said he would call in the evening.

Sunday, Dec. 12. Was not at Bolt Court in the forenoon; at St. Sepulchre's school in the evening with Mrs. Hoole, where we saw Mrs. Gardiner and Lady Rothes; heard that Dr. Johnson was very bad, and had been something delirious. Went to Bolt Court about nine, and found there Mr. Windham and the Rev. Mr. Strahan. The Doctor was then very bad in bed, which I think he had only taken to that day he had now refused to take any more medicine or food. Mr. Cruikshanks came about eleven: he endeavoured to persuade him to take some nourishment, but in vain. Mr. Windham then went again to him, and, by the advice of Mr. Cruikshanks, put it upon this footing- that by persisting to refuse all sustenance he might probably

1

defeat his own purpose to preserve his mind clear, as his weakness might bring on paralytic complaints that might affect his mental powers. The Doctor, Mr. Windham said, heard him patiently; but when he had heard all, he desired to be troubled no more. He then took a most affectionate leave of Mr. Windham, who reported to us the issue of the conversation, for only Mr. Desmoulins was with them in the chamber. I did not see the Doctor that day, being fearful of disturbing him, and never conversed with him again. I came away about half past eleven with Mr. Windham.

Monday, Dec. 13. Went to Bolt Court at eleven o'clock in the morning; met a young lady coming down stairs from the Doctor, whom, upon inquiry, I found to be Miss Morris (a sister to Miss Morris, formerly on the stage). Mrs. Desmoulins told me that she had seen the Doctor; that by her desire he had been told she came to ask his blessing, and that he said, "God bless you!" I then went up into his chamber, and found him lying very composed

in a kind of doze: he spoke to nobody. Sir John Hawkins, Mr. Langton, Mrs. Gardiner, Rev. Mr. Strahan and Mrs. Strahan, Doctors Brocklesby and Butter, Mr. Steevens, and Mr. Nichols the printer, came; but no one chose to disturb him by speaking to him, and he seemed to take no notice of any person. While Mrs. Gardiner and I were there, before the rest came, he took a little warm milk in a cup, when he said something upon its not being properly given into his hand he breathed very regular, though short, and appeared to be mostly in a calm sleep or dozing. I left him in this state, and never more saw him alive. In the evening I supped with Mrs. Hoole and my son at Mr. Braithwaite's, and at night my servant brought me word that my dearest friend died that evening about seven o'clock: and next morning I went to the house, where I met Mr. Seward; we went together into the chamber, and there saw the most awful sight of Dr. Johnson laid out in his bed, without life! JOHN HOOLE.

WE dined at the chop-house. Dr. Pozz was this day very instructive. We talked of books. I mentioned the History of Tommy Trip. I said it was a great work. Pozz. "Yes, Sir, it is a great work; but, Sir, it is a great work relatively; it was a great work to you when you was a little boy but now, Sir, you are a great man, and Tommy Trip is a little boy.' I felt somewhat hurt at this comparison, and I believe he perceived it; for, as he was squeezing a lemon, he said, "Never be affronted at a comparison. I have been compared to many things, but I never was affronted. No, Sir, if they would call me a dog, and you a canister tied to my tail, I would not be affronted."

Cheered by this kind mention of me, though in such a situation, I asked him what he thought of a friend of ours, who was always making comparisons. Pozz. "Sir, that fellow has a simile for every thing but himself. I knew him when he kept a shop: he then made money, Sir, and now he makes comparisons. Sir, he would say that you and I were two figs stuck together; two figs in adhesion, Sir; and then he would laugh." Bozz. "But have not some great writers determined that comparisons are now and then odious " Pozz, "No, Sir, not odious in themselves, not odious as comparisons; the fellows who make them are odious. Whigs make comparisons."

The

We supped that evening at his house. I showed him some lines I had made upon a pair of breeches. Pozz. "Sir, the lines are good; but where could you find such a subject in your country?" Bozz. "Therefore it is a proof of invention, which is a characteristic of poetry." Pozz. "Yes, Sir, but an invention which few of your countrymen can enjoy.' I reflected afterwards on the depth of this remark: it affords a proof of that acuteness which he displayed in every branch of literature. I asked him if he approved of green spectacles? Pozz. "As to green spectacles, Sir, the question seems to be this: if I wore green spectacles, it would be because they assisted vision, or because I liked them. Now, Sir, if a man tells me he does not like green spectacles, and that they hurt his eyes, I would not compel him to wear them. No, Sir, I would dissuade him." A few months after, I consulted him again on this subject, and he honoured me with a letter, in which he gives the same opinion. It will be found in its proper place, Vol. VI. p. 2789. I have thought much on this subject, and must confess that in such matters a man ought to be a free moral agent.

Next day I left town, and was absent for six weeks, three days, and seven hours, as I find by a memorandum in my journal. In this time I had only one letter from him, which is as follows:

nated mind. On my return to town, we met again at the chop-house. We had much conversation to-day: his wit flashed like lightning: indeed, there is not one hour of my present life in which I do not profit by some of his valuable communications.

We talked of wind. I said 1 knew many persons much distressed with that complaint. Pozz. "Yes Sir, when confined, when pent up." I said I did not know that, but I questioned if the Romans ever knew it. Pozz. "Yes, Sir, the Romans knew it." Bozz. "Livy does not mention it." Pozz. No, Sir, Livy wrote History. Livy was not writing the Life of a Friend."

He

On medical subjects his knowledge was immense. told me of a friend of ours who had just been attacked by a most dreadful complaint: he had entirely lost the use of his limbs, so that he could neither stand nor walk, unless supported; his speech was quite gone; his eyes were much swollen, and every vein distended, yet his face was rather pale, and his extremities cold; his pulse beat 160 in a minute. I said, with tenderness, that I would go and see him; and, said I, "Sir, I will take Dr. Bolus with me." Pozz. "No, Sir, don't go." I was startled, for I knew his compassionate heart, and earnestly asked why? Pozz. "Sir, you don't know his disorder." Bozz." Pray what is it?" Pozz. "Sir, the man is-dead drunk!" This explanation threw me into a violent fit of laughter, in which he joined me, rolling about as he used to do when he enjoyed a joke; but he afterwards checked me. Pozz. Sir, you ought not to laugh at what I said. Sir, he who laughs at what another man says, will soon learn to laugh at that other man. Sir, you should laugh only at your own jokes; you should laugh seldom."

We talked of a friend of ours who was a very violent politician. I said I did not like his company. Pozz. "No, Sir, he is not healthy; he is sore, Sir; his mind is ulcerated; he has a political whitlow; Sir, you cannot touch him without giving him pain. Sir, I would not talk politics with that man; I would talk of cabbage and peas; Sir, I would ask him how he got his corn in, and whether his wife was with child; but I would not talk politics." Bozz. "But perhaps, Sir, he would talk of nothing else." Pozz, "Then, Sir, it is plain what he would do." On my very earnestly inquiring what that was, Dr. Pozz answered, "Sir, he would let it alone."

I mentioned a tradesman who had latley set p his coach. Pozz." He is right, Sir; a man who would go on swimmingly cannot get too soon off his legs. That man keeps his coach. Now, Sir, a coach is better than a chaise, Sirit is better than a chariot." Bozz. "Why, Sir?" Pozz. "Sir, it will hold more." I begged he would repeat this, that I might remember it, and he complied with great good humour. "Dr. Pozz," said I. "you ought to keep a coach." Pozz. "Yes, Sir, I ought." Bozz. "But you do not, and that has often surprised me." Pozz. "Surprised you ! There, Sir, is another prejudice of absurdity. Sir, you ought to be surprised at nothing. A man that has lived half your days ought to be above all surprise. Sir, it is a rule with me never to be surprised. It is mere ignorance; you cannot guess

why I do not keep a coach, and you are surprised. Now, Sir, if you did know you would not be surprised." I said, tenderly," I hope, my dear Sir, you will let me know before I leave town." Pozz. "Yes, Sir, you shall know now. You shall not go to Mr. Wilkins, and to Mr. Jenkins, and to Mr. Stubbs, and say, why does not Pozz keep a coach? I will tell you myself Sir, I can't afford it."

We talked of drinking. I asked him whether, in the course of his long and valuable life, he had not known some men who drank more than they could bear? Pozz. "Yes, Sir; and then, Sir, nobody could bear them. A man who is drunk, Sir, is a very foolish fellow." Bozz. "But, Sir, as the poet says, he is devoid of all care."" Pozz. "Yes, Sir, he cares for nobody; he has none of the cares of life: he cannot be a merchant, Sir, for he cannot write his name; he cannot be a politician, Sir, for he cannot talk; he cannot be an artist, Sir, for he cannot see; and yet, Sir, there is science in drinking." Bozz. I suppose you mean that a man ought to know what he drinks." Pozz." No, Sir, to know what one drinks is nothing; but the science consists of three parts. Now, Sir, were I to drink wine, I should wish to know them all; I should wish to know when I had too little, when I had enough, and when I had too much. There is our friend *** (mentioning a gentleman of our acquaintance); he knows when he has too little, and when he has too much, but he knows not when he has enough. Now, Sir, that is the science of drinking, to know when one has enough."

We talked this day on a variety of topics, but I find very few memorandums in my journal. On small beer, he said it was flatulent liquor. He disapproved of those who deny the utility of absolute power, and seemed to be offended with a friend of ours who would always have his eggs poached. Sign-posts, he observed, had degenerated within his memory; and he particularly found fault with the moral of the "Beggar's Opera." I endeavoured to defend a work which had afforded me so much pleasure, but could not master that strength of mind with which he argued; and it was with great satisfaction that he communicated to me afterwards a method of curing corns by applying a piece of oiled silk. In the early history of the world he preferred Sir Isaac Newton's Chronology: but as they gave employment to useful artisans, he did not dislike the large buckles then coming into use.

Next day we dined at the Mitre. I mentioned spirits. Pozz." Sir, there is as much evidence for the existence of spirits as against it." You may not believe it, but you

This alludes to the jealousy about copyright, which Mr. Boswell carried so far that he actually printed separately, and entered at Stationers' Hall, Johnson's Letter to Lord

cannot deny it. I told him that my great grandmother once saw a spirit. He asked me to relate it, which I did very minutely, while he listened with profound attention. We I mentioned that the spirit once appeared in the shape of a shoulder of mutton, and another time in that of a tea-pt, he interrupted me:-Pozz. "There, Sir, is the point; the evidence is good, but the scheme is defective in ensitency. We cannot deny that the spirit appeared in these shapes; but then we cannot reconcile them. What his a tea-pot to do with a shoulder of mutton? Neither a it a terrific object. There is nothing contemporaneots. Sir, these are objects which are not seen at the same the nor in the same place." Bozz. "I think, Sir, that old women in general are used to see ghosts." Pozz. “Yes, Sir, and their conversation is full of the subject: I would have a old woman to record such conversations; their loquacity | tends to minuteness."

We talked of a person who had a very bad character. Pozz. "Sir, he is a scoundrel." Bozz. "I hate a scountre!." Pozz. "There you are wrong: don't hate scoundrels. Scoundrels, Sir, are useful. There are many things we ca not do without scoundrels. I would not choose to keep company with scoundrels, but something may be got from them." Bozz. "Are not scoundrels generally fools?" Post. "No, Sir, they are not. A scoundrel must be a clever fel. I low; he must know many things of which a fool is ignorant. Any man may be a fool. I think a good book might be made out of scoundrels. I would have a Biographia Flagitios, the Lives of Eminent Scoundrels, from the earliest accounts to the present day." I mentioned hanging: I thought it & very awkward situation. Pozz. "No, Sir, hanging is not an awkward situation; it is proper, Sir, that a man whose actions tend towards flagitious obliquity should appear perpendicur at last." I told him that I had lately been in company with some gentlemen, every one of whom could recollect some friend or other who had been hanged. Pozz. Yes, Sir. that is the easiest way. We know those who have been hanged; we can recollect that: but we cannot number those! who deserve it; it would not be decorous, Sir, in a mixed ! company. No, Sir, that is one of the few things which we are compelled to think."