The Life of Samuel Johnson

by James Boswell

  ‘You need not be in care about something to print, for I have got the State Trials, and shall extract Layer, Atterbury, and Macclesfield from them, and shall bring them to you in a fortnight; after which I will try to get the South Sea Report.’

  [No date, nor signature.]

  I would also ascribe to him an ‘Essay on the Description of China, from the French of Du Halde.’!

  His writings in the Gentleman’s Magazine in 1743, are, the ‘Preface,’! the ‘Parliamentary Debates,’! ‘Considerations on the Dispute between Crousaz and Warburton, on Pope’s Essay on Man;’f in which, while he defends Crousaz, he shews an admirable metaphysical acuteness and temperance in controversy; ‘Ad Lauram parituram Epigramma;’∗a and, ‘A Latin Translation of Pope’s Verses on his Grotto;’ ∗ and, as he could employ his pen with equal success upon a small matter as a great, I suppose him to be the authour of an advertisement for Osborne, concerning the great Harleian Catalogue.

  But I should think myself much wanting, both to my illustrious friend and my readers, did I not introduce here, with more than ordinary respect, an exquisitely beautiful Ode, which has not been inserted in any of the collections of Johnson’s poetry, written by him at a very early period, as Mr. Hector informs me, and inserted in the Gentleman’s Magazine of this year.

  FRIENDSHIP, an ODE.∗

  ‘Friendship, peculiar boon of heav’n,

  The noble mind’s delight and pride,

  To men and angels only giv’n,

  To all the lower world deny’d.

  While love, unknown among the blest,

  Parent of thousand wild desires,

  The savage and the human breast

  Torments alike with raging fires;

  With bright, but oft destructive, gleam,

  Alike o’er all his lightnings fly;

  Thy lambent glories only beam

  Around the fav’rites of the sky.

  Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys

  On fools and villains ne’er descend;

  In vain for thee the tyrant sighs,

  And hugs a flatterer for a friend.

  Directress of the brave and just,

  O guide us through life’s darksome way!

  And let the tortures of mistrust,

  On selfish bosoms only prey.

  Nor shall thine ardours cease to glow,

  When souls to blissful climes remove;

  What rais’d our virtue here below,

  Shall aid our happiness above.’

  Johnson had now an opportunity of obliging his schoolfellow Dr. James, of whom he once observed, ‘no man brings more mind to his profession.’ James published this year his Medicinal Dictionary, in three volumes folio. Johnson, as I understood from him, had written, or assisted in writing, the proposals for this work; and being very fond of the study of physick, in which James was his master, he furnished some of the articles. He, however, certainly wrote for it the Dedication to Dr. Mead,† which is conceived with great address, to conciliate the patronage of that very eminent man.a

  It has been circulated, I know not with what authenticity, that Johnson considered Dr. Birch as a dull writer, and said of him, ‘Tom Birch is as brisk as a bee in conversation; but no sooner does he take a pen in his hand, than it becomes a torpedo to him, and benumbs all his faculties.’ That the literature of this country is much indebted to Birch’s activity and diligence must certainly be acknowledged. We have seen that Johnson honoured him with a Greek Epigram; and his correspondence with him, during many years, proves that he had no mean opinion of him.

  ‘To DR. BIRCH

  ‘SIR, ‘Thursday, Sept. 29, 1743.

  ‘I hope you will excuse me for troubling you on an occasion on which I know not whom else I can apply to; I am at a loss for the Lives and Characters of Earl Stanhope, the two Craggs, and the minister Sunderland; and beg that you will inform {me} where I may find them, and send any pamphlets, &c. relating to them to Mr. Cave, to be perused for a few days by, Sir, your most humble servant, ‘SAM. JOHNSON.’

  His circumstances were at this time much embarrassed; yet his affection for his mother was so warm, and so liberal, that he took upon himself a debt of her’s, which, though small in itself, was then considerable to him. This appears from the following letter which he wrote to Mr. Levett, of Lichfield, the original of which lies now before me.

  ‘To MR. LEVETT; in Lichfield.

  ‘SIR, ‘December 1, 1743.

  ‘I am extremely sorry that we have encroached so much upon your forbearance with respect to the interest, which a great perplexity of affairs hindered me from thinking of with that attention that I ought, and which I am not immediately able to remit to you, but will pay it (I think twelve pounds,) in two months. I look upon this, and on the future interest of that mortgage, as my own debt; and beg that you will be pleased to give me directions how to pay it, and not mention it to my dear mother. If it be necessary to pay this in less time, I believe I can do it; but I take two months for certainty, and beg an answer whether you can allow me so much time. I think myself very much obliged to your forbearance, and shall esteem it a great happiness to be able to serve you. I have great opportunities of dispersing any thing that you may think it proper to make publick. I will give a note for the money, payable at the time mentioned, to any one here that you shall appoint. I am, Sir, your most obedient, and most humble servant, ‘SAM. JOHNSON.

  ‘At Mr. Osborne’s, bookseller, in Gray’s Inn.’

  1744: yEtat. 35.] – It does not appear that he wrote any thing in 1744 for the Gentleman’s Magazine, but the Preface.† His Life of Baretier was now re-published in a pamphlet by itself. But he produced one work this year, fully sufficient to maintain the high reputation which he had acquired. This was The Life of Richard Savage;∗ a man, of whom it is difficult to speak impartially, without wondering that he was for some time the intimate companion of Johnson; for his character was marked by profligacy, insolence, and ingratitude;a yet, as he undoubtedly had a warm and vigorous, though unregulated mind, had seen life in all its varieties, and been much in the company of the statesmen and wits of his time, he could communicate to Johnson an abundant supply of such materials as his philosophical curiosity most eagerly desired; and as Savage’s misfortunes and misconduct had reduced him to the lowest state of wretchedness as a writer for bread, his visits to St. John’s Gate naturally brought Johnson and him together.a

  It is melancholy to reflect, that Johnson and Savage were sometimes in such extreme indigence,b that they could not pay for a lodging; so that they have wandered together whole nights in the streets. Yet in these almost incredible scenes of distress, we may suppose that Savage mentioned many of the anecdotes with which Johnson afterwards enriched the life of his unhappy companion, and those of other Poets.

  He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that one night in particular, when Savage and he walked round St. James’s-square for want of a lodging, they were not at all depressed by their situation; but in high spirits and brimful of patriotism, traversed the square for several hours, inveighed against the minister, and ‘resolved they would stand by their country.’

  I am afraid, however, that by associating with Savage, who was habituated to the dissipation and licentiousness of the town, Johnson, though his good principles remained steady, did not entirely preserve that conduct, for which, in days of greater simplicity, he was remarked by his friend Mr. Hector; but was imperceptibly led into some indulgencies which occasioned much distress to his virtuous mind.

  That Johnson was anxious that an authentick and favourable account of his extraordinary friend should first get possession of the publick attention, is evident from a letter which he wrote in the Gentleman’s Magazine for August of the year preceding its publication.

  ‘MR. URBAN, – As your collections show how often you have owed the ornaments of your poetical pages to the correspondence of the unfortunate and ingenious Mr. Savage, I doubt not but you have so much regard to his memory as to encourage any
design that may have a tendency to the preservation of it from insults or calumnies; and therefore, with some degree of assurance, intreat you to inform the publick, that his life will speedily be published by a person who was favoured with his confidence, and received from himself an account of most of the transactions which he proposes to mention, to the time of his retirement to Swansea in Wales.

  ‘From that period, to his death in the prison of Bristol, the account will be continued from materials still less liable to objection; his own letters, and those of his friends, some of which will be inserted in the work, and abstracts of others subjoined in the margin.

  ‘It may be reasonably imagined, that others may have the same design; but as it is not credible that they can obtain the same materials, it must be expected they will supply from invention the want of intelligence; and that under the title of “The Life of Savage,” they will publish only a novel, filled with romantick adventures, and imaginary amours. You may therefore, perhaps, gratify the lovers of truth and wit, by giving me leave to inform them in your Magazine, that my account will be published in 8vo. by Mr. Roberts, in Warwick-lane.’ [No signature.]

  In February, 1744, it accordingly came forth from the shop of Roberts, between whom and Johnson I have not traced any connection, except the casual one of this publication. In Johnson’s Life of Savage, although it must be allowed that its moral is the reverse of – ‘Respicere exemplar vitæ morumque jubebo,’69 a very useful lesson is inculcated, to guard men of warm passions from a too free indulgence of them; and the various incidents are related in so clear and animated a manner, and illuminated throughout with so much philosophy, that it is one of the most interesting narratives in the English language. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that upon his return from Italy he met with it in Devonshire, knowing nothing of its authour, and began to read it while he was standing with his arm leaning against a chimney-piece. It seized his attention so strongly, that, not being able to lay down the book till he had finished it, when he attempted to move, he found his arm totally benumbed. The rapidity with which this work was composed, is a wonderful circumstance. Johnson has been heard to say, ‘I wrote forty-eight of the printed octavo pages of the Life of Savage at a sitting; but then I sat up all night.’a

  He exhibits the genius of Savage to the best advantage in the specimens of his poetry which he has selected, some of which are of uncommon merit. We, indeed, occasionally find such vigour and such point, as might make us suppose that the generous aid of Johnson had been imparted to his friend. Mr. Thomas Warton made this remark to me; and, in support of it, quoted from the poem entitled The Bastard, a line, in which the fancied superiority of one ‘stamped in Nature’s mint with extasy,’ is contrasted with a regular lawful descendant of some great and ancient family:

  ‘No tenth transmitter of a foolish face.’

  But the fact is, that this poem was published some years before Johnson and Savage were acquainted.

  It is remarkable, that in this biographical disquisition there appears a very strong symptom of Johnson’s prejudice against players; a prejudice which may be attributed to the following causes: first, the imperfection of his organs, which were so defective that he was not susceptible of the fine impressions which theatrical excellence produces upon the generality of mankind; secondly, the cold rejection of his tragedy; and, lastly, the brilliant success of Garrick, who had been his pupil, who had come to London at the same time with him, not in a much more prosperous state than himself, and whose talents he undoubtedly rated low, compared with his own. His being outstripped by his pupil in the race of immediate fame, as well as of fortune, probably made him feel some indignation, as thinking that whatever might be Garrick’s merits in his art, the reward was too great when compared with what the most successful efforts of literary labour could attain. At all periods of his life Johnson used to talk contemptuously of players; but in this work he speaks of them with peculiar acrimony; for which, perhaps, there was formerly too much reason from the licentious and dissolute manners of those engaged in that profession. It is but justice to add, that in our own time such a change has taken place, that there is no longer room for such an unfavourable distinction.

  His schoolfellow and friend, Dr. Taylor, told me a pleasant anecdote of Johnson’s triumphing over his pupil David Garrick. When that great actor had played some little time at Goodman’s-fields, Johnson and Taylor went to see him perform, and afterwards passed the evening at a tavern with him and old Giffard. Johnson, who was ever depreciating stage-players, after censuring some mistakes in emphasis which Garrick had committed in the course of that night’s acting, said, ‘The players, Sir, have got a kind of rant, with which they run on, without any regard either to accent or emphasis.’ Both Garrick and Giffard were offended at this sarcasm, and endeavoured to refute it; upon which Johnson rejoined, ‘Well now, I’ll give you something to speak, with which you are little acquainted, and then we shall see how just my observation is. That shall be the criterion. Let me hear you repeat the ninth Commandment, “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.” ’ Both tried at it, said Dr. Taylor, and both mistook the emphasis, which should be upon not and false witness.a Johnson put them right, and enjoyed his victory with great glee.

  His Life of Savage was no sooner published, than the following liberal praise was given to it, in The Champion, a periodical paper: ‘This pamphlet is, without flattery to its authour, as just and well written a piece as of its kind I ever saw; so that at the same time that it highly deserves, it certainly stands very little in need of this recommendation. As to the history of the unfortunate person, whose memoirs compose this work, it is certainly penned with equal accuracy and spirit, of which I am so much the better judge, as I know many of the facts mentioned to be strictly true, and very fairly related. Besides, it is not only the story of Mr. Savage, but innumerable incidents relating to other persons, and other affairs, which renders this a very amusing, and, withal, a very instructive and valuable performance. The author’s observations are short, significant, and just, as his narrative is remarkably smooth, and well disposed. His reflections open to all the recesses of the human heart; and, in a word, a more just or pleasant, a more engaging or a more improving treatise, on all the excellencies and defects of human nature, is scarce to be found in our own, or, perhaps, any other language.’b

  Johnson’s partiality for Savage made him entertain no doubt of his story, however extraordinary and improbable. It never occurred to him to question his being the son of the Countess of Macclesfield, of whose unrelenting barbarity he so loudly complained, and the particulars of which are related in so strong and affecting a manner in Johnson’s life of him. Johnson was certainly well warranted in publishing his narrative, however offensive it might be to the lady and her relations, because her alledged unnatural and cruel conduct to her son, and shameful avowal of guilt, were stated in a Life of Savage now lying before me, which came out so early as 1727, and no attempt had been made to confute it, or to punish the authour or printer as a libeller: but for the honour of human nature, we should be glad to find the shocking tale not true; and, from a respectable gentlemana connected with the lady’s family, I have received such information and remarks, as joined to my own inquiries, will, I think, render it at least somewhat doubtful, especially when we consider that it must have originated from the person himself who went by the name of Richard Savage.

  If the maxim falsum in uno, falsum in omnibus,70 were to be received without qualification, the credit of Savage’s narrative, as conveyed to us, would be annihilated; for it contains some assertions which, beyond a question, are not true.

  1. In order to induce a belief that Earl Rivers, on account of a criminal connection with whom, Lady Macclesfield is said to have been divorced from her husband, by Act of Parliament,b had a peculiar anxiety about the child which she bore to him, it is alledged, that his Lordship gave him his own name, and had it duly recorded in the register of St. Andrew’s, Holborn. I have car
efully inspected that register, but no such entry is to be found.c

  2. It is stated, that ‘Lady Macclesfield having lived for some time upon very uneasy terms with her husband, thought a publick confession of adultery the most obvious and expeditious method of obtaining her liberty;’ and Johnson, assuming this to be true, stigmatises her with indignation, as ‘the wretch who had, without scruple, proclaimed herself an adulteress.’ But I have perused the Journals of both houses of Parliament at the period of her divorce, and there find it authentically ascertained, that so far from voluntarily submitting to the ignominious charge of adultery, she made a strenuous defence by her Counsel; the bill having been first moved 15th January, 1697, in the House of Lords, and proceeded on, (with various applications for time to bring up witnesses at a distance, &c.) at intervals, till the 3d of March, when it passed. It was brought to the Commons, by a message from the Lords, the 5th of March, proceeded on the 7th, 10th, 11th, 14th, and 15th, on which day, after a full examination of witnesses on both sides, and hearing of Counsel, it was reported without amendments, passed, and carried to the Lords.

  That Lady Macclesfield was convicted of the crime of which she was accused, cannot be denied; but the question now is, whether the person calling himself Richard Savage was her son.

  It has been said, that when Earl Rivers was dying, and anxious to provide for all his natural children, he was informed by Lady Macclesfield that her son by him was dead. Whether, then, shall we believe that this was a malignant lie, invented by a mother to prevent her own child from receiving the bounty of his father, which was accordingly the consequence, if the person whose life Johnson wrote, was her son; or shall we not rather believe that the person who then assumed the name of Richard Savage was an impostor, being in reality the son of the shoemaker, under whose wife’s care Lady Macclesfield’s child was placed; that after the death of the real Richard Savage, he attempted to personate him; and that the fraud being known to Lady Macclesfield, he was therefore repulsed by her with just resentment?