Life of Johnson Volume I Part 17

Were all the other excellencies of this poem annihilated, it must ever have our grateful reverence from its n.o.ble conclusion; in which we are consoled with the a.s.surance that happiness may be attained, if we 'apply our hearts[573]' to piety:

'Where then shall hope and fear their objects find?

Shall dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind?

Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

Shall no dislike alarm, no wishes rise, No cries attempt the mercy of the skies?

Enthusiast[574], cease; pet.i.tions yet remain, Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem Religion vain.

Still raise for good the supplicating voice, But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice.

Safe in His hand, whose eye discerns afar The secret ambush of a specious pray'r; Implore His aid, in His decisions rest, Secure whate'er He gives He gives the best.

Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires, Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient pa.s.sions, and a will resign'd; For love, which scarce collective man can fill, For patience, sovereign o'er trans.m.u.ted ill; For faith, which panting for a happier seat, Counts death kind Nature's signal for retreat.

These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain, These goods He grants, who grants the power to gain; With these celestial wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find.'

[Page 196: IRENE on the stage. A.D. 1749.]

Garrick being now vested with theatrical power by being manager of Drury-lane theatre, he kindly and generously made use of it to bring out Johnson's tragedy, which had been long kept back for want of encouragement. But in this benevolent purpose he met with no small difficulty from the temper of Johnson, which could not brook that a drama which he had formed with much study, and had been obliged to keep more than the nine years of Horace[575], should be revised and altered at the pleasure of an actor[576]. Yet Garrick knew well, that without some alterations it would not be fit for the stage. A violent dispute having ensued between them, Garrick applied to the Reverend Dr. Taylor to interpose. Johnson was at first very obstinate. 'Sir, (said he) the fellow wants me to make Mahomet run mad, that he may have an opportunity of tossing his hands and kicking his heels[577].' He was, however, at last, with difficulty, prevailed on to comply with Garrick's wishes, so as to allow of some changes; but still there were not enough.

[Page 197: The Epilogue to IRENE. aetat 40.]

Dr. Adams was present the first night of the representation of _Irene_, and gave me the following account: 'Before the curtain drew up, there were catcalls whistling, which alarmed Johnson's friends. The Prologue, which was written by himself in a manly strain, soothed the audience[578], and the play went off tolerably, till it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. Pritchard[579], the heroine of the piece, was to be strangled upon the stage, and was to speak two lines with the bow-string round her neck. The audience cried out "_Murder! Murder_[580]!" She several times attempted to speak; but in vain. At last she was obliged to go off the stage alive.' This pa.s.sage was afterwards struck out, and she was carried off to be put to death behind the scenes, as the play now has it[581]. The Epilogue, as Johnson informed me, was written by Sir William Yonge[582]. I know not how his play came to be thus graced by the pen of a person then so eminent in the political world.

Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as Garrick, Barry, Mrs. Cibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every advantage of dress and decoration, the tragedy of _Irene_ did not please the publick[583]. Mr.

Garrick's zeal carried it through for nine nights[584], so that the authour had his three nights' profits; and from a receipt signed by him, now in the hands of Mr. James Dodsley, it appears that his friend Mr.

Robert Dodsley gave him one hundred pounds for the copy, with his usual reservation of the right of one edition[585].

[Page 198: IRENE as a poem. A.D. 1749.]

[Page 199: Johnson no tragedy-writer. aetat 40.]

_Irene_, considered as a poem, is int.i.tled to the praise of superiour excellence[586]. a.n.a.lysed into parts, it will furnish a rich store of n.o.ble sentiments, fine imagery, and beautiful language; but it is deficient in pathos, in that delicate power of touching the human feelings, which is the princ.i.p.al end of the drama[587]. Indeed Garrick has complained to me, that Johnson not only had not the faculty of producing the impressions of tragedy, but that he had not the sensibility to perceive them. His great friend Mr. Walmsley's prediction, that he would 'turn out a fine tragedy-writer[588],' was, therefore, ill-founded.

Johnson was wise enough to be convinced that he had not the talents necessary to write successfully for the stage, and never made another attempt in that species of composition[589].

[Page 200: Deference for the general opinion. A.D. 1749.]

When asked how he felt upon the ill success of his tragedy, he replied, 'Like the Monument[590];' meaning that he continued firm and unmoved as that column. And let it be remembered, as an admonition to the _genus irritabile_[591] of dramatick writers, that this great man, instead of peevishly complaining of the bad taste of the town, submitted to its decision without a murmur. He had, indeed, upon all occasions, a great deference for the general opinion[592]: 'A man (said he) who writes a book, thinks himself wiser or wittier than the rest of mankind; he supposes that he can instruct or amuse them, and the publick to whom he appeals, must, after all, be the judges of his pretensions.'

[Page 201: Johnson in the Green Room. aetat 41.]

On occasion of his play being brought upon the stage, Johnson had a fancy that as a dramatick authour his dress should be more gay than what he ordinarily wore; he therefore appeared behind the scenes, and even in one of the side boxes, in a scarlet waistcoat, with rich gold lace, and a gold-laced hat[593]. He humourously observed to Mr. Langton, that 'when in that dress he could not treat people with the same ease as when in his usual plain clothes[594].' Dress indeed, we must allow, has more effect even upon strong minds than one should suppose, without having had the experience of it. His necessary attendance while his play was in rehearsal, and during its performance, brought him acquainted with many of the performers of both s.e.xes, which produced a more favourable opinion of their profession than he had harshly expressed in his _Life of Savage_[595]. With some of them he kept up an acquaintance as long as he and they lived, and was ever ready to shew them acts of kindness. He for a considerable time used to frequent the _Green Room_, and seemed to take delight in dissipating his gloom, by mixing in the sprightly chit-chat of the motley circle then to be found there[596]. Mr. David Hume related to me from Mr. Garrick, that Johnson at last denied himself this amus.e.m.e.nt, from considerations of rigid virtue; saying, 'I'll come no more behind your scenes, David; for the silk stockings and white bosoms of your actresses excite my amorous propensities.'

[Page 202: The Rambler. A.D. 1750.]

1750: aeTAT. 41.--In 1750 he came forth in the character for which he was eminently qualified, a majestick teacher of moral and religious wisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a periodical paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, employed with great success.

The _Tatler, Spectator_, and _Guardian_, were the last of the kind published in England, which had stood the test of a long trial[597]; and such an interval had now elapsed since their publication, as made him justly think that, to many of his readers, this form of instruction would, in some degree, have the advantage of novelty. A few days before the first of his _Essays_ came out, there started another compet.i.tor for fame in the same form, under the t.i.tle of _The _Tatler Revived_[598], which I believe was 'born but to die[599].' Johnson was, I think, not very happy in the choice of his t.i.tle, _The Rambler_, which certainly is not suited to a series of grave and moral discourses; which the Italians have literally, but ludicrously translated by _Il Vagabondo_[600]; and which has been lately a.s.sumed as the denomination of a vehicle of licentious tales, _The Rambler's Magazine_. He gave Sir Joshua Reynolds the following account of its getting this name: 'What _must_ be done, Sir, _will_ be done. When I was to begin publishing that paper, I was at a loss how to name it. I sat down at night upon my bedside, and resolved that I would not go to sleep till I had fixed its t.i.tle. _The Rambler_ seemed the best that occurred, and I took it[601].'

With what devout and conscientious sentiments this paper was undertaken, is evidenced by the following prayer, which he composed and offered up on the occasion: 'Almighty G.o.d, the giver of all good things, without whose help all labour is ineffectual, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly; grant, I beseech Thee, that in this undertaking[602] thy Holy Spirit may not be with-held from me, but that I may promote thy glory, and the salvation of myself and others: grant this, O LORD, for the sake of thy son JESUS CHRIST. Amen[603].'

[Page 203: Revision of The Rambler. aetat 41.]

The first paper of the _Rambler_ was published on Tuesday the 20th of March, 1750; and its authour was enabled to continue it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Friday, till Sat.u.r.day the 17th of March, 1752[604], on which day it closed. This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his, which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere[605], that 'a man may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it[606];' for, notwithstanding his const.i.tutional indolence, his depression of spirits, and his labour in carrying on his _Dictionary_, he answered the stated calls of the press twice a week from the stores of his mind, during all that time; having received no a.s.sistance, except four billets in No. 10, by Miss Mulso, now Mrs.

Chapone[607]; No. 30, by Mrs. Catharine Talbot[608]; No. 97, by Mr. Samuel Richardson, whom he describes in an introductory note as 'An author who has enlarged the knowledge of human nature, and taught the pa.s.sions to move at the command of virtue;' and Nos. 44 and 100 by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter.

[Page 204: Johnson's rapid composition. A.D. 1750.]

Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the authority of Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, which we should suppose had been laboured with all the slow attention of literary leisure, were written in haste as the moment pressed, without even being read over by him before they were printed[609]. It can be accounted for only in this way; that by reading and meditation, and a very close inspection of life, he had acc.u.mulated a great fund of miscellaneous knowledge, which, by a peculiar prompt.i.tude of mind, was ever ready at his call, and which he had constantly accustomed himself to clothe in the most apt and energetick expression. Sir Joshua Reynolds once asked him by what means he had attained his extraordinary accuracy and flow of language. He told him, that he had early laid it down as a fixed rule to do his best on every occasion, and in every company; to impart whatever he knew in the most forcible language he could put it in; and that by constant practice, and never suffering any careless expressions to escape him, or attempting to deliver his thoughts without arranging them in the clearest manner, it became habitual to him[610].

[Page 205: Hints for the Rambler. aetat 42.]

Yet he was not altogether unprepared as a periodical writer; for I have in my possession a small duodecimo volume, in which he has written, in the form of Mr. Locke's _Common-Place Book_, a variety of hints for essays on different subjects. He has marked upon the first blank leaf of it, 'To the 128th page, collections for the _Rambler_;' and in another place, 'In fifty-two there were seventeen provided; in 97-21; in 190-25.' At a subsequent period (probably after the work was finished) he added, 'In all, taken of provided materials, 30[611].'

Sir John Hawkins, who is unlucky upon all occasions, tells us, that 'this method of acc.u.mulating intelligence had been practised by Mr.

Addison, and is humourously described in one of the _Spectators_[612], wherein he feigns to have dropped his paper of _notanda_, consisting of a diverting medley of broken sentences and loose hints, which he tells us he had collected, and meant to make use of. Much of the same kind is Johnson's _Adversaria_[613]'. But the truth is, that there is no resemblance at all between them. Addison's note was a fiction, in which unconnected fragments of his lucubrations were purposely jumbled together, in as odd a manner as he could, in order to produce a laughable effect. Whereas Johnson's abbreviations are all distinct, and applicable to each subject of which the head is mentioned.

For instance, there is the following specimen:

_Youth's Entry, &c_.

'Baxter's account of things in which he had changed his mind as he grew up. Voluminous.--No wonder.--If every man was to tell, or mark, on how many subjects he has changed, it would make vols. but the changes not always observed by man's self.--From pleasure to bus. [business] to quiet; from thoughtfulness to reflect. to piety; from dissipation to domestic. by impercept. gradat. but the change is certain. Dial[614] _non progredi, progress. esse conspicimus_. Look back, consider what was thought at some dist. period.

'_Hope predom. in youth. Mind not willingly indulges unpleasing thoughts_. The world lies all enameled before him, as a distant prospect sun-gilt[615]; inequalities only found by coming to it. _Love is to be all joy--children excellent_--Fame to be constant--caresses of the great--applauses of the learned--smiles of Beauty.

'_Fear of disgrace--bashfulness_--Finds things of less importance.

Miscarriages forgot like excellencies;--if remembered, of no import.

Danger of sinking into negligence of reputation. Lest the fear of disgrace destroy activity.

[Page 206: Hints for The Rambler. A.D. 1750.]

'_Confidence in himself_. Long tract of life before him.--No thought of sickness.--Embarra.s.sment of affairs.--Distraction of family. Publick calamities.--No sense of the prevalence of bad habits.--Negligent of time--ready to undertake--careless to pursue--all changed by time.

'_Confident of others_--unsuspecting as unexperienced--imagining himself secure against neglect, never imagines they will venture to treat him ill. Ready to trust; expecting to be trusted. Convinced by time of the selfishness, the meanness, the cowardice, the treachery of men.

'Youth ambitious, as thinking honours easy to be had.

'Different kinds of praise pursued at different periods. Of the gay in youth, dang. hurt, &c. despised.

'Of the fancy in manhood. Ambit.--stocks--bargains.--Of the wise and sober in old age--seriousness--formality--maxims, but general--only of the rich, otherwise age is happy--but at last every thing referred to riches--no having fame, honour, influence, without subjection to caprice.

'Horace[616].

'Hard it would be if men entered life with the same views with which they leave it, or left as they enter it.--No hope--no undertaking--no regard to benevolence--no fear of disgrace, &c.

'Youth to be taught the piety of age--age to retain the honour of youth.'

This, it will be observed, is the sketch of Number 196 of the _Rambler_.

I shall gratify my readers with another specimen:

'_Confederacies difficult; why_.

[Page 207: Hints for The Rambler. aetat 41.]