"Your most humble servant, late refusal from a high quarter might occasion. | of literary intelligence in Mr. Swinton's own To enable him to visit the south of France in hand, or to deposit it in the Museum,* that the pursuit of health, he offered from his own funds veracity of this account may never be doubted. an annuity of one hundred pounds, payable "I am, Sir, quarterly. This was a sweet oblivious antidote, but it was not accepted for the reasons assigned to the Chancellor. The proposal, however, will do honour to Dr. Brocklesby, as long as liberal sentiment shall be ranked among the social virtues. Dec. 6, 1784. Mr. Swinton. The History of the Carthaginians, Numidians, Mauritinians, Gætulians, Garamantes, Melano-Gætulians, Nigritæ, Cyrenaica, Marmarica, Regio Syrtica, Turks, Tartars, and Moguls, Indians, Chinese, Dissertation on the peopling of America, Dissertation on the In dependency of the Arabs. The Cosmogony, and a small part of the history To the Birth of Abraham. Chiefly by Mr. History of the Jews, Gauls, and Spaniards. By In the month of October, 1784, we find Dr. Johnson corresponding with Mr. Nichols, the intelligent compiler of the Gentleman's Magazine, and, in the languor of sickness, still desirous to contribute all in his power to the advancement of science and useful knowledge. He says, in a letter to that gentleman, dated Litchfield, October 20, that he should be glad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information. He adds, "At Ashburne, where I had very little company, I had the luck to borrow Mr. Bowyer's Life, a book so full of contemporary history, that a literary man must find some of his old friends. I thought that I could now and then have told you some hints worth your notice: We perhaps may talk a life over. I hope we shall be much together. You must now be to me what you were before, and what dear Mr.quested to see Mr. Nichols. A few days before, Allen was besides. He was taken unexpectedly away, but I think he was a very good man. I have made very little progress in recovery. I am very weak, and very sleepless; but I live on and hope." Xenophon's Retreat. By the same. he had borrowed some of the early volumes of the Magazine, with a professed intention to point out the pieces which he had written in that collection. The books lay on the table, with many leaves doubled down, and in partiIn that languid condition he arrived, on the ticular those which contained his share in the 16th of November, at his house in Bolt Court, Parliamentary Debates. Such was the goodthere to end his days. He laboured with the ness of Johnson's heart, that he then declared, dropsy and an asthma. He was attended by that "those debates were the only parts of his Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. Brocklesby, writings which gave him any compunction: Dr. Butter, and Mr. Cruikshank, the eminent but that at the time he wrote them he had no surgeon. Eternity presented to his mind an conception that he was imposing upon the awful prospect, and, with as much virtue as per- world, though they were frequently written haps ever is the lot of man, he shuddered at the from very slender materials, and often from thought of his dissolution. His friends awak-none at all, the mere coinage of his own imaened the comfortable reflection of a well-spent life; and, as his end drew near, they had the satisfaction of seeing him composed, and even cheerful, insomuch that he was able, in the course of his restless nights, to make translations of Greek epigrams from the Anthologia; and to compose a Latin epitaph for his father, his mother, and his brother Nathaniel. He meditated, at the same time, a Latin inscription to the memory of Garrick; but his vigour was exhausted. gination." He added, "that he never wrote any part of his work with equal velocity. Three columns of the Magazine in an hour," he said, "was no uncommon effort; which was faster than most persons 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." His love of literature was a passion that stuck to his last sand. Seven days before his death In the course of the conversation he asked, he wrote the following letter to his friend Mr.whether any of the family of Faden the printer, Nichols: "SIR, "THE late learned Mr. Swinton, of Oxford, having one day remarked that one man, meaning, I suppose, no man but himself, could assign all the parts of the Ancient Universal History to their proper Authors, at the request of Sir Robert Chainbers, or myself, gave the account which I now transmit to you in his own hand, being willing that of so great a work the history should be known, and that each writer should receive his due proportion of praise from posterity. "I recommend to you to preserve this scrap were living. Being told that the geographer near Charing-Cross was Faden's son, he said, after a short pause, "I borrowed a guinea of his father near thirty years ago; be so good as to take this, and pay it for me." *It is there deposited. J. N. Before this authentic communication, Mr. Nichols had given, in the volume of the Gentleman's Magazine for Vol. I. Mr. Sale, translator of the Koran -II. George Psalmanazar.-III. George Psalmanazar, Archibald Bower, Captain Shelvock, Dr. Campbell.-IV. The same as vol. III.-V. Mr. Bower.-VI. Mr. Bower, Rev. John Swinton.-VII. Mr. Swinton, Mr. Bower Wishing to discharge every duty, and every obligation, Johnson recollected another debt of ten pounds which he had borrowed from his friend Mr. Hamilton the printer, about twenty years before. He sent the money to Mr. Hamilton, at his house in Bedford-Row, with an apology for the length of time. The Reverend Mr. Strahan was the bearer of the message, about four or five days before Johnson breathed | his last. amusement, or the pleasure of discussion, Cri ticism has endeavoured to make him answerable for what, perhaps, he never seriously thought. His diary, which has been printed, discovers still more. We have before us the very heart of the man, with all his inward consciousness. And yet neither in the open paths of life, nor in his secret recesses, has any one vice been discovered. We see him reviewing every year of his life, and severely censuring himself for not keepMr. Sastress (whom Dr. Johnson esteemed ing resolutions, which morbid melancholy, and and mentioned in his will) entered the room other bodily infirmities, rendered impracticable. during his illness. Dr. Johnson, as soon as he We see him for every little defect imposing on saw him, stretched forth his hand, and, in a himself voluntary penance, going through the tone of lamentation, called out, JAM MORITU-day with only one cup of tea without milk, and RUS! But the love of life was still an active to the last, amidst paroxysms and remissions of principle. Feeling himself swelled with the illness, forming plans of study and resolutions dropsy, he conceived that by incisions in his to amend his life.* Many of his scruples may legs, the water might be discharged. Mr. Cruik-be called weaknesses; but they are the weakshank apprehended that a mortification might nesses of a good, a pious and most excellent be the consequence; but, to appease a distem- man. pered fancy, he gently lanced the surface. Johnson cried out, Deeper, deeper! I want length of life, and you are afraid of giving me pain, which I do not value." His person, it is well-known, was large and unwieldy. His nerves were affected by that disorder, for which, at two years of age, he was presented to the royal touch. His head shook, On the 8th of December, the Reverend Mr. and involuntary motions made it uncertain that Strahan drew his will, by which, after a few his legs and arms would, even at a tea-table, relegacies, the residue, amounting to about fifteen main in their proper place. A person of Lord hundred pounds, was bequeathed to Frank, the Chesterfield's delicacy might in his company be black servant, formerly consigned to the testa-in a fever. He would sometimes of his own tor by his friend Dr. Bathurst. accord do things inconsistent with the establishThe history of a death-bed is painful. Mr.ed modes of behaviour. Sitting at table with Strahan informs us, that the strength of religion the celebrated Mrs. Cholmondeley, who exerted prevailed against the infirmity of nature; and herself to circulate the subscription for Shak his foreboding dread of the Divine Justice sub-speare, he took hold of her hand in the middle sided into a pious trust and humble hope of mercy at the Throne of Grace. On Monday the 13th day of December (the last of his existence on this side the grave,) the desire 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 seven in the evening expired without a groan. of dinner, and held it close to his eye, wondering at the delicacy and whiteness, till with a smile she asked, "Will he give it to me again when he has done with it?" The exteriors of politeness did not belong to Johnson. Even that civility which proceeds, or ought to proceed, from the mind, was sometimes violated. His morbid melancholy had an effect on his temper; his passions were irritable; and the pride of science, as well as of a fierce, independent spirit, inflamed him on some occasions above all bounds On the 20th of the month his remains, with of moderation. Though not in the shade of due solemnities, and a numerous attendance of academic bowers, he led a scholastic life; and his friends, were buried in Westminster Abbey, the habit of pronouncing decisions to his friends near the foot of Shakspeare's monument, and and visitors gave him a dictatorial manner, close to the grave of the late Mr. Garrick. The which was much enforced by a voice naturally funeral service was read by his friend Dr. Tay-loud, and often overstretched. Metaphysical lor. A black marble over his grave has the following inscription: SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D. MDCCLXXXIV, Etatis suæ LXXV. If we now look back, as from an eminence, to view the scenes of life, and the literary labours in which Dr. Johnson was engaged, we may be able to delineate the features of the man, and to form an estimate of his genius. As a man, Dr. Johnson stands displayed in open daylight. Nothing remains undiscovered. Whatever he said is known; and without allowing him the usual privilege of hazarding sentiments, and advancing positions, for mere discussion, moral theory, systems of religion, and anecdotes of literature, were his favourite topics. General history had little of his regard. Biography was his delight. The proper study of mankind is man. Sooner than hear of the Punic war, he would be rude to the person that introduced the subject. use. Johnson was born a logician; one of those, to whom only books of logie are said to be of In consequence of his skill in that art, he loved argumentation. No man thought more profoundly, nor with such acute discernment. A fallacy could not stand before him; it was sure to be refuted by strength of reasoning, and a precision both in idea and expression almost unequalled. When he chose by apt illustration to place the argument of his adversary in a lu *On the subject of voluntary penance, see the Ram bler, No. CX. vainglory of superior vigour. His piety, in some instances, bordered on superstition. He was willing to believe in preternatural agency, and thought it not more strange that there should be evil spirits than evil men. Even the question about second sight held him in suspense. "Second sight," Mr. Pennant tells us, "is a power of seeing images impressed on the organs of sight by the power of fancy, or on the fancy by the disordered spirits operating on the mind. It is the faculty of seeing spectres or visions, which represent an event actually passing at a distance, or likely to happen at a future day. In 1771, a gentleman, the last who was supposed to be possessed of this faculty, had a boat at sea in a tempestuous night, and, being anxious for his freight, suddenly started up, and said his men would be drowned, for he had seen them pass before him with wet garments and dripping locks. The event corresponded with his disordered fancy. And thus," continues Mr. Pennant, "a distempered imagination, clouded with anxiety, may make an impression on the spirits; as persons, restless and troubled with indignation, see various forms and figures while they lie awake in bed." This is what Dr. Johnson was not willing to reject. He wished for some positive proof of communications with another world. His benevolence embraced the whole race of man, and yet was tinctured with particular prejudices. He was pleased with the minister in the Isle of Sky, and loved him so much that he began to wish him not a Presby terian. To that body of Dissenters his zeal for the Established Church made him in some degree an adversary; and his attachment to a mixed and limited Monarchy led him to declare open war against what he called a sullen Re dicrous light, one was almost inclined to think | In It was late in life before he had the habit of mixing, otherwise than occasionally, with polite company. At Mr. Thrale's, he saw a constant succession of well-accomplished visitors. that society he began to wear off the rugged points of his own character. He saw the advantages of mutual civility, and endeavoured to profit by the models before him. He aimed at what has been called by Swift the lesser morals, and by Cicero minores virtutes. His endeavour, though new and late, gave pleasure to all his acquaintance. Men were glad to see that he was willing to be communicative on equal terms and reciprocal complaisance. The time was then expected when he was to cease being what George Garrick, brother to the celebrated actor, called him the first time he heard him converse, TREMENDOUS COMPANION." He certainly wished to be polite, and even thought himself so; but his civility still retained something uncouth and harsh. His manners took a milder tone, but the endeavour was too palpably seen. He laboured even in trifles. He was a giant gaining a pur chase to lift a feather. "A It is observed by the younger Pliny, that in the confines of virtue and great qualities there are generally vices of an opposite nature. In Dr. Johnson not one ingredient can take the name of vice. From his attainments in literature grew the pride of knowledge; and from his powers of reasoning, the love of disputation and the (d) He would rather praise a man of Oxford than of Cambridge. He disliked a Whig, and loved a Tory. These were the shades of his character, which it has been the business of certain party-writers to represent in the darkest colours. Since virtue, or moral goodness, consists in a just conformity of our actions to the relations in which we stand to the Supreme Being and to our fellow creatures, where shall we find a man who has been, or endeavoured to be, more diligent in the discharge of those essential duties? His first prayer was composed in 1738; he continued those fervent ejaculations of piety to the end of his life. In his Meditations we see him scrutinizing himself with severity, and aiming at perfection unattainable by man. His duty to his neighbour consisted in universal benevolence, and a constant aim at the production of happiness. Who was more sincere and steady in his friendships? It has been said that there was no real aflection between him and Garrick. On the part of the latter, there might be some corrosions of jealousy. The character of PROS PERO, in the Rambler, No. 200, was, beyond all question, occasioned by Garrick's ostentatious display of furniture and Dresden china. It was surely fair to take from this incident a hint for a moral essay; and though no more was intended, Garrick, we are told, remembered it with unea siness. He was also hurt that his Litchfield friend did not think so highly of his dramatic art as the rest of the world. The fact was, Johnson could not see the passions as they rose and chased one another in the varied features Like Milton and Addison, he seems to have of that expressive face; and by his own manner been fond of his Latin poetry. Those compoof reciting verses, which was wonderfully im-sitions show that he was an early scholar; but pressive, he plainly showed that he thought his verses have not the grace ease that gave there was too much of artificial tone and mea- so much suavity to the poems Addison. The sured cadence in the declamation of the theatre. translation of the Messiah apours under two The present writer well remembers being in disadvantages; it is first to be compared with conversation with Dr. Johnson near the side of Pope's inimitable performance, and afterwards the scenes during the tragedy of King Lear: with the Pollio of Virgil. It may appear trifling when Garrick came off the stage, he said, to remark, that he has made the letter o, in the "You two talk so loud you destroy all my feel-word Virgo, long and short in the same line; ings." "Prithee," replied Johnson, "do not Virgo, Virgo parit. But the translation has talk of feelings, Punch has no feelings." This great merit, and some admirable lines. In the seems to have been his settled opinion; admi- odes there is a sweet flexibility, particularly, To rable as Garrick's imitation of nature always his worthy friend Dr. Laurence; on himself at was, Johnson thought it no better than mere the theatre, March 8, 1771; the Ode in the Isle mimicry. Yet it is certain that he esteemed and of Sky; and that to Mrs. Thrale from the same loved Garrick; that he dwelt with pleasure on place. his praise; and used to declare, that he deserved his great success, because on all applications for charity he gave more than was asked. After Garrick's death he never talked of him without a tear in his eye. He offered, if Mrs. Garrick would desire it of him, to be the editor of his works and the historian of his life.* It has been mentioned, that on his death-bed he thought of writing a Latin inscription to the memory of his friend. Numbers are still living who know these facts, and still remember with gratitude the friendship which he showed to them with unaltered affection for a number of years. His humanity and generosity, in proportion to his slender income were unbounded. It has been truly said, that the lame, the blind, and the sorrowful, found in his house a sure retreat. A strict adherence to truth he considered as a sacred obligation, insomuch that, in relating the most minute anecdote, he would not allow himself the smallest addition to embellish his story. The late Mr. Tyers, who knew Dr. Johnson intimately, observed, "that he always talked as if he was talking upon oath." After a long acquaintance with this excellent man, and an attentive retrospect to his whole conduct, such is the light in which he appears to the writer of this essay. The following lines of Horace may be deemed his picture in miniature. Iracundior est paulo, minus aptus acutis "Your friend is passionate, perhaps unfit For the brisk petulance of modern wit. FRANCIS' HOR. Book. i. Sat. 3. It remains to give a review of Johnson's works; and this, it is imagined, will not be unwelcome to the reader. His English poetry is such as leaves room to think, if he had devoted himself to the Muses, that he would have been the rival of Pope. His first production in this kind was London, a poem in imitation of the third satire of Juvenal. The vices of the metropolis are placed in the room of ancient manners. The author had heated his mind with the ardour of Juvenal, and, having the skill to polish his numbers, he became a sharp accuser of the times. The Vanity of Human Wishes is an imitation of the tenth Satire of the same author. Though it is translated by Dryden, Johnson's imitation approaches nearest to the spirit of the original. The subject is taken from the Alcibiades of Plato and has an intermixture of the sentiments of Socrates concerning the object of prayers offered up to the Deity. The general proposition is, that good and evil are so little understood by mankind, that their wishes when granted are always destructive. This is exemplified in a variety of instances, such as riches, state preferment, eloquence, military glory, long life, and the advantages of form and beauty. Juvenal's conclusion is worthy of a Christian poet, and such a pen as Johnson's. "Let us," he says, "leave it to the gods to judge what is fittest for us. Man is dearer to his Creator than to himself. If we must pray for special favour, let it be for a sound mind in a sound body. Let us pray for fortitude, that we may think the labours of Hercules and all his sufferings preferable to a life of luxury and the soft repose of Sardanapalus. This is a blessing within the reach of every man; this we can give ourselves. It is virtue, and virtue only, that can make us happy." In the translation the zeal of the Christian conspired with the warmth and energy of the poet; but Juvenal is not eclipsed. For the various characters in the original, the reader is pleased, in the English poem, to meet with Cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham stabbed by Felton, Lord Strafford, Clarendon, Charles XII. of Sweden; and for Tully and Demosthenes, Lydiat, Galileo, and Archbishop Laud. It is owing to Johnson's delight in biography that the name of Lydiat is called forth from obscurity. It may, therefore, not be useless to tell, that Lydiat was a learned divine and mathematician in the beginning of the last century. He attacked the doctrine of Aristotle and Scaliger, and wrote a number of sermons on the harmony of the Evangelists. With all his merit, he lay in the prison *It is to be regretted that he was not encouraged in this undertaking. The assistance, however, which he gave to Davies, in writing the Life of Garrick, has been acknowledged in general terms by that writer, and from the evidence of style, appears to have been very conside-of Bocardo at Oxford, till Bishop Usher, Laud, rable. C. and others paid his debts. He petitioned Charles I. to be sent to Ethiopia to procure manuscripts. | in the disasters of their country; a race of men, Having spoken in favour of monarchy and bi- quibus nulla ex honesto spes. shops, he was plundered by the Puritans, and The prologue to Irene is written with eletwice carried away a prisoner from his rectory.gance, and, in a peculiar style, shows the literary He died very poor in 1646. pride and lofty spirit of the author. The epilogue, we are told in a late publication was written by Sir William Young. This is a new discovery, but by no means probable. When the appendages to a dramatic performance are not assigned to a friend, or an unknown hand, or a person of fashion, they are always supposed to be written by the author of the play. It is to be wished, however, that the epilogue in question could be transferred to any other writer. It is the worst jeu d'esprit that ever fell from Johnson's pen.* An account of the various pieces contained in this edition, such as miscellaneous tracts, and philological dissertations, would lead beyond the intended limits of this essay. It will suffice to say, that they are the productions of a man who never wanted decorations of language, and always taught his readers to think. The life of the late king of Prussia, as far as it extends, is a model of the biographical style. The review of the Origin of Evil was, perhaps, written with asperity; but the angry epitaph which it provoked from Soame Jenyns, was an ill-timed resentment, unworthy of the genius of that amiable author. The tragedy of Irene is founded on a passage in Knolles' History of the Turks; an author highly commended in the Rambler, No. 122. An incident in the Life of Mahomet the Great, first Emperor of the Turks, is the hinge on which the fable is made to move. The substance of the story is shortly this. In 1453 Mahomet laid siege to Constantinople, and having reduced the place, became enamoured of a fair Greek, whose name was Irene. The sultan invited her to embrace the law of the Prophet, and to grace his throne. Enraged at this intended marriage, the Janizaries formed a conspiracy to dethrone the Emperor. To avert the impending danger, Mahomet, in a full assembly of the grandees, "catching with one hand," as Knolles relates it, "the fair Greek by the hair of her head, and drawing his falchion with the other, he, at one blow, struck off her head, to the great terror of them all; and, having so done, said unto them, Now, by this, judge whether your emperor is able to bridle his affections or not." The story is simple, and it remained for the author to amplify it with proper episodes, and give it compli- The Rambler may be considered as Johnson's cation and variety. The catastrophe is changed, great work. It was the basis of that high reputaand horror gives place to terror and pity. But, tion which went on increasing to the end of his after all, the fable is cold and languid. There days. The circulation of those periodical essays is not, throughout the piece, a single situation to was not, at first equal to their merit. They had excite curiosity, and raise a conflict of passions. not, like the Spectators, the art of charming by The diction is nervous, rich, and elegant; but variety; and indeed how could it be expected? splendid language, and melodious numbers, will The wits of Queen Anne's reign sent their conmake a fine poem, not a tragedy. The senti- Itributions to the Spectator; and Johnson stood ments are beautiful, always happily expressed, alone. "A stage-coach," says Sir Richard but seldom appropriated to the character, and [Steele, "must go forward on stated days, whegenerally too philosophic. What Johnson has ther there are passengers or not." So it was with said of the tragedy of Cato may be applied to the Rambler, every Tuesday and Saturday, for Irene: "It is rather a poem in dialogue than a two years. In this collection Johnson is the drama; rather a succession of just sentiments great moral teacher of his countrymen; his esin elegant language, than a representation of na- says form a body of ethics; the observations on tural affections. Nothing excites or assuages life and manners are acute and instructive; and emotion. The events are expected without soli- the papers, professedly critical, serve to promote citude, and are remembered without joy or sor-the cause of literature. It must, however, be acrow. Of the agents we have no care; we consider not what they are doing, nor what they are suffering; we wish only to know what they have to say. It is unaffecting elegance, and chill philosophy." The following speech, in the mouth of a Turk, who is supposed to have heard of the British constitution, has been often selected from the numberless beauties with which Irene abounds: "If there be any land, as fame reports Sure all unite to hold her league of rule, knowledged, that a settled gloom hangs over the Non ulla Musis pagina gratior, Utilibus recreare mentem. Texente nymphis serta Lycoride, Æthereis variata fucis. These are British sentiments. Above forty years ago they found an echo in the breast of applauding audiences; and to this hour they are the voice of the people, in defiance of the metaphysics and the new lights of certain politicians, nal evidence that it is not Johnsa yang rong, part who would gladly find their private advantagecularly in the line "But how t Dr. Johnson informed Mr. Boswell that this epilogue was written by Sir William Young. See Boswell's Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 166-70. 8vo. edit. 1804. The inter |