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are too few. Many things familiar to you are unknown to me, and to nuost
and you must not think too favourably of your readers; by supposing them knowing, you will leave them ignorant. Measure of land, and value of money, it is of great importance to state with care. Had the Saxons any gold coin ?
“I have much curiosity after the manners and transactions of the middle ages, but have wanted either diligence or opportunity, or both. You, Sir, have great opportunities, and I wish you both diligence and success. Sir, &c.
The following curious anecdote I insert in Dr. Burney's own words :
“Dr. Burney related to Dr. Johnson the partiality which his writings had excited in a friend of Dr. Burney's, the late Mr. Bewley,' well known in Norfolk by the name of the Philosopher of Mossingham; who, from the Ramblers and plan of his dictionary, and long before the author's fame was established by the Dictionary itself, or any other work, had conceived such a reverence for him, that he earnestly begged Dr. Burney to give him the cover of the first letter he had received from him, as a relic of so estimable a writer. This was in 1755. In 1760, when Dr. Burney visited Dr. Johnson at the Temple, in London, where he had then chambers, he happened to arrive there before he was up; and being shown into the room where he was to breakfast, finding himself alone, he examined the contents of the apartment, to try whether he could, undiscovered, steal anything to send to his friend Bewley, as another relic of the admirable Dr. Johnson. But finding nothing better to his purpose, he cut some bristles off his hearth-broom, and enclosed them in a letter to his country enthusiast, who received them with due reverence. The Doctor was so sensible of the honour done to him by a man of genius and science, to whom he was an utter stranger, that he said to Dr. Burney, “Sir, there is no man possessed of the smallest portion of modesty, but must be flattered with the admiration of such a man. I'll give him a set of my Lives, if he will do me the honour to accept them.' In this he kept his word; and Dr. Burney had not only the pleasure of gratifying his friend with a present more worthy of his acceptance than the segment from the hearth-broom, but soon after introducing him to Dr. Johnson himself in Bolt Court, with whom he had the satisfaction of conversing for a considerable time, not a fortnight before his death ; which happened in St. Martin's street, during his visit to Dr. Burney, in the house where the great Sir Isaac Newton had lived and died before."
In one of his little memorandum-books is the following minute :
1 Mr. William Bewley died Sept. 5, 1783.
He was a “ Monthly Reviewer.”_C.
August 9, 3 P. M. ætat. 72, in the summer-house at Streatham. After innumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I have retired hither, to plan a life of greater diligence, in hope that I may yet be useful, and be daily better prepared to appear before my Creator and my Judge, froin whose infinite mercy I humbly call for assistance and support. My purpose is,—To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment. Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks upon the Italian language for my settled study.”
How venerably pious does he appear in these moments of solitude ; and how spirited are his resolutions for the improvement of his mind, even in elegant literature, at a very advanced period of life, and when afflicted with many complaints.
In autumn he went to Oxford, Birmingham, Lichfield, and Ashbourne, for which very good reasons might be given in the conjectural yet positive manner of writers, who are proud to account for every event which they relate. He himself, however, says, “The motives of my journey I hardly know: I omitted it last year, and am not willing to miss it again." (Pr. and Med. p. 198.) Bat some good considerations arise, amongst which is the kindly recollection of Mr. Hector, surgeon, of Birmingham. “Hector is likewise an old friend, the only companion of my childhood that passed through the school with me. We have always loved one another ; perhaps we may be made better by some serious conversation
of which, however, I have no distinct hope.”
He says, too, “At Lichfield, my native place, I hope to show a good example by frequent attendance on public worship."
My correspondence with him during the rest of this year was, I know not why, very scanty, and all on my side. I wrote him one letter to introduce Mr. Sinclair (now Sir John), the member for Caithness,' to his acquaintance ; and informed bim in another that my wife had again been affected with alarming symptoms of illness.
1 The Right Hon. Sir John Sinclair, of Ulbster, Bart.; a voluminous writer on agriculture and statistics.-0.
Death of Robert Levett-Verses to his Memory-Chatterton-Dr. Lawrence-Death of
Friendship—"Beauties” and “Deformities” of Johnson-Misery of being in Debt-Six Rules for Travellers-Death of Lord Auchinleck-"Kindness and Fondness "-Life-old Age-Evils of Poverty–Prayer on leaving Streatham-Visit to Cowdry-Nichols's “Anecdotes "-Wilson's “ Archeological Dictionary"-Dr. Patten.
In 1782 his complaints increased, and the history of his life this year is little more than a mournful recital of the variations of his illness, in the midst of which, however, it will appear from his letters, that the powers of his mind were in no degree impaired.
“January 5, 1782. “DEAR SIR,—I sit down to answer your letter on the same day in which I received it, and am pleased that my first letter of the year is to you. No man ought to be at ease while he knows himself in the wrong; and I have not satisfied myself with my long silence. The letter relating to Mr. Sinclair, however, was, I believe, never brought.
“My health has been tottering this last year; and I can give no very laudable account of my time. I am always hoping to do better than I have ever hitherto done. My journey to Ashbourne and Staffordshire was not pleasant; for what enjoyment has a sick man visiting the sick? Shall we ever have another frolic like our journey to the Hebrides ?
“I hope that dear Mrs. Boswell will surmount her complaints : in losing her you will lose your anchor, and be tossed, without stability, by the waves of life. I wish both you and her very many years, and very happy.
“For some months past I have been so withdrawn from the world, that I can send you nothing particular. All your friends, however, are well, and will be glad of your return to London. I am, dear Sir, etc., Sam. Johnson."
At a time when he was less able than he had once been to sus
1 The truth of this has been proved by sad experience.-B. Mrs. Boswell died June 4 1789.-M.
tain a shock, he was suddenly deprived of Mr. Levett, which event he thus communicated to Dr. Lawrence :
“Jan. 17, 1782 Sir,—Our old friend, Mr. Lerett, who was last night eminently cheerful, died this morning. The man who lay in the same room, hearing an uncommon noise, got up and tried to make him speak, but without effect. He then called Mr. Holder, the apothecary, who, though when he came he thought him dead, opened a vein, but could draw no blood. So has ended the long life of a very useful and very blameless man. I am, Sir, your most humble servant,
“ SAM. JOHNSON.”
In one of his memorandum-books in my possession is the following entry :
January 20, Sunday, Robert Levett was buried in the churchyard of Bridewell, between one and two in the afternoon. He died on Thursday, 17, about seven in the morning, by an instantaneous death. He was an old and faithful friend: I have known him from about 46. Commendavi. May God have mercy on him! May he have mercy on me !"
Such was Johnson's affectionate regard for Lovett,' that he honoured his memory with the following pathetic verses :
“ Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine,
As on we toil from day to day,
Our social comforts drop away.
“Well try'd through many a varying year,
See Levett to the grave descend;
Of every friendless name the friend.
“ Yet still he fills affection's eye,
Obscurely wise and coarsely kind;
Thy praise to merit unrefined.
“When fainting Nature call’d for aid,
And hovering death prepared the blow,
The power of art without the show.
1 See an account of him, antè, Vol. I.
“In misery's darkest caverns known,
His ready help was ever nigh,
And lonely want retired to die.'
“No summons mock'd by chill delay,
No petty gains disdain'd by pride:
The toil of every day supply'd.
“ His virtues walk'd their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
His single talent well employ'd.
“The busy day, the peaceful night,
Unfelt, uncounted, glided by;
Though now his eightieth year was nigh.
“ Then, with no throbs of fiery pain,
No cold gradations of decay,
And freed his soul the nearest way."
“ Feb. 4, 1782. “DEAR MADAM,—Mrs. Williams showed me your kind letter. This little habitation is now but a melancholy place, clouded with the gloom of disease and death. Of the four inmates, one has been suddenly snatched away; two are oppressed by very afflictive and dangerous illness; and I tried yesterday to gain some relief by a third bleeding from a disorder which has for some time distressed me, and I think myself to-day much better.
“I am glad, dear Madam, to hear that you are so far recovered as to go to Bath. Let me once more entreat you to stay till your health is not only obtained, but confirmed. Your fortune is such as that no moderate expense deserves your care; and you have a husband who, I believe, does not regard it. Stay, therefore, till you are quite well. I am, for my part, very much deserted; but complaint is useless. I hope God will bless you, and I desire you to form the same wish for me. I am, dear Madam, etc.
“ Sam. JOHNSON."
1 Johnson repeated this line to me thus:
" And labour steals an hour to die." Bat he afterwards altered it to the present reading.