CHAPTER V. HIS HUMANITY. WE speak of a man's religion, and of his humanity or benevolence, when in fact these are inseperable: for, although men by nature are enabled to perform offices of kindness, yet it is religion that cultivates and increases the kindnesses of human nature, and religion without the practice of benevolence would be a nonenity. It is so much our interest to be kind one to another, that very much of our benevolence may be leavened with selfish feelings; still there are innumerable acts of charity which can spring only from the energy of faith acting on our hearts faith in God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and a world to come; not that the hope of reward hereafter solely stimulates the mind, for this would be looking forward to a larger reward than man can give (albeit such a motive is sanctioned in God's word, for we are to rejoice and leap for joy, that great is our reward in heaven),* but mainly because we know that it is pleasing to God that we should relieve the poor, comfort the afflicted, speak kindly to and encourage the wretched. The mournful, the meek, the merciful, the pure, the peaceable, the poor in spirit, are to be the favorites of man, inasmuch as they are pronounced to be the favorites of God: and let men profess whatever zeal they may in the cause of religion, and be ever so orthodox, or ever so warm in peculiar views adopted by themselves, the saying holds good that the worst of all heretics is the uncharitable man. Having become acquainted with something of the depth, and fervor, and thorough sincerity, of Dr. Johnson's religion, we are led to expect many acts of humanity emanating from him whom the pious Hannah More describes as one "whose faith is strong, whose morals are irreproachable !" Yet, so *Luke vi. 23. filled is Boswell's Life of him with literary achievement and anecdote, so fraught with wise observations on common and worldly things, that the scarlet thread of his true beneficences may, in some degree, escape that notice and regard of the hurried reader, to which they are entitled. Still it does exist in no mean quantity and quality, proving with what trueheartedness he said on one occasion, "Getting money is not all a man's business; to cultivate kindness is a valuable part of the business of life." At the very outset of this consideration of Dr. Johnson's life in its humane aspect, it must be candidly stated that at times he was exceedingly rough, and even coarse in his manner; and yet seldom was he so without subsequent repentance and remorse. That he did good, as much as lay in his power, to many persons, is very apparent; and it will not be found that he ever designedly did an injury to any one; so that we may exclaim with Burke, when he spoke in reference to the alleged roughness of Johnson's manner, “It is well if, when a man comes to die, he has nothing heavier upon his conscience than having been a little rough in conversation." Great minds have often great failings as well as great virtues, and although we can not call the occasional roughness of Johnson's manner a great failing, yet we can see that the ponderous power of his thought, when provoked to vehemence, naturally led him to seek at once to annihilate an antagonist, especially if he was one in whom presumption or flippancy of remark was observable. "How very false is the notion," says Boswell, "that has gone the round of the world, of the rough, and passionate, and harsh manners of this great and good man!" And although Boswell allows that sometimes he displayed impetuosity of temper, too easily excited by the folly and absurdity of others, and perhaps at times unwarrantably shown, yet he tells us, that during by far the greater portion of his time, he was civil, obliging, polite, insomuch that many persons who were long acquainted with him,* * * The ingenious Mr. Mickle thus wrote of Dr. Johnson, in a letter to Boswell: "I was upwards of twelve years acquainted with him, was frequently t never received a harsh word from him, or heard him express himself with heat or violence in any way. That he was an admirer of gentleness in society may be learned from an anecdote related of him, to the effect that when Mr. Vesey was proposed as a member of the Literary Club, Mr. Burke began by saying that he was a man of gentle manners. Sir," said Johnson, "you need say no more. When you have said a man of gentle manners, you have said enough." And that he had no great faith in the efficacy of severe manners in the great object of ameliorating the disposition of mankind, may be gathered from his observation on Lord Mansfield's saying, "My lords, severity is not the way to govern either boys or men." Nay," remarked Johnson, it is the way to govern them; I know not whether it be the way to mend them." There is a just soundness in this latter remark, more than in the former: the one is that of an advocate in a particular cause, the other that of a philosopher in the calmness of truth. We must always bear in mind that Johnson inherited a constitutional malady, which at times must needs create morbid and melancholy sensations in his mind, and render it impatient under provocation, and especially sensitive in any case of a worrying or disturbing nature.* know how painfully aware he was of his state, how he prayed and struggled against this calamity, and heroically We in his company, always talked with ease to him, and can truly say, that I never received from him one rough word." For some people, however, he had words rough indeed, and many of these persons deserved them. Hannah More writes (1785)—" Boswell tells me he is printing anecdotes of Johnson, not his life, but, as he has the vanity to call it, his pyramid. I besought his tenderness for our virtuous and most revered departed friend, and begged he would mitigate some of his asperities. He said, roughly, ' He would not cut off his claws, nor make a tiger a cat, to please any body.'"-Memoirs of Hannah More, vol. i. p. 403. * Carlyle says of Dr. Johnson, "Nature, in return for his nobleness, had said to him, Live in an element of diseased sorrow. Nay, perhaps the sorrow and the nobleness were intimately, and even inseparably, connected with each other."-Heroes and Hero- Worship, p. 280. wrote of himself, Though it is wise to be serious, it is useless and foolish, and perhaps sinful, to be gloomy." Who that loves the character of Cowper also, will not bewail in his very heart the misfortune of this kind that perplexed the temperament of that good man; and of which he speaks so strongly and so tenderly, from his first attack of depression when commencing studies at the Temple, even to that time when he writes, "Thus have I spent twenty years, but thus I shall not spend twenty years more!" No, though he was hunted by spiritual hounds in the night season," and though he wrote "under the pressure of sadness not to be described;" yet his religion bore him through difficulties and distresses which, in its absence, would have overwhelmed him. How salutary must have been his going to church for the first time after his recovery from his first attack, when his heart was full of love to all the congregation, especially to such as seemed serious and attentive. Fortunate indeed for his mental health was his attachment to the church, and his friendship with some of her pious ministers. "Cowper," says his biographer, "was warmly attached to the religion of the Established Church, in which he had been trained up, and which, like his friend Mr. Newton, he calmly and deliberately preferred to any other."* This choice must have served rather to cheer his mind than to excite it, and to soothe his heart rather than inflame it: for "all those alleviations of sorrow," as Dr. Johnson observes of his case, "those delightful anticipations of heavenly rest, those healing consolations to a wounded spirit, of which he was permitted to taste, at the period when uninterrupted reason resumed its sway, were unequivocally to be ascribed to the operation of those very principles and views of religion," that is, Calvinistic, as moderated by the tone of the church, which he had adopted. Cowper, sitting at the feet of the Rev. John Newton, or in familiar counsel with Madan, and Johnson kneeling in awe at the altar of St. Clement Danes, were both indebted (how largely !) to the healing influences of our *Life of William Cowper, by Thomas Taylor, 3d edition, p. 402. most holy and most consoling religion. Of either of them we might aptly say, "Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon; The pure, calm hope be thine, Which brightens, like the eastern moon, INSTANCES OF HIS HUMANITY. It now becomes a peculiar pleasure to record some instances, scattered throughout his valuable career, of Dr. Johnson's kindnesses shown toward his fellow-creatures, in order that we may determine whether, in good George Herbert's words, he did "Find out men's wants and will, And meet them there. All worldly joys go less A characteristic incident is related of him so early as the year 1732, before he was twenty-three years of age, and from the previous opinion of his friends concerning him, we may be sure that it was by no means his first kind action. It appears that he engaged to translate a book from the French into English, but he soon became indolent, and the work at a stand-still. His friend, Mr. Hector, we are told, "knew that a motive of humanity would be the most prevailing argument with his friend;" so he forthwith went to Johnson, and communicated to him that the printer could have no other engagement until this one was finished, and that he was very poor, and his family in want. Johnson, upon hearing this, in spite of the ailment of his body, immediately set vigorously to work. "He lay in bed," we read, "with the book, which was a quarto, before him, and dictated, while Hector wrote." It must be mentioned, that at this time Johnson himself was in a state of great poverty, and he obtained only five guineas on the completion of the book. There are few men who will not consider the history and fate of Collins the poet very affecting; and affecting also is C |