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same cause, I suggested, that whatever return we
1784. might receive, we should still have the consolation of S
Ætat. 75. being like Butler's steady and generous Royalist,
66 True as the dial to the sun,
“ Although it be not shone upon. We were well entertained and very happy at Dr. Nowell's, where was a very agreeable company; and we drank “ Church and King” after dinner, with true Tory cordiality.
We talked of a certain clergyman of extraordinary character, who by exerting his talents in writing on temporary topicks, and displaying uncommon intrepidity, had raised himself to affluence. I maintained that we ought not to be indignant at his success; for merit of every sort was entitled to reward. JOHNSON. “Sir, I will not allow this man to have merit. . No, Sir; what he has is rather the contrary; I will, indeed, allow him courage, and on this account we so far give him credit. We have more respect for a man who robs boldly on the highway, than for a fellow who jumps out of a ditch, and knocks you down behind your back. Courage is a quality so necessary for maintaining virtue, that it is always respected, even when it is associated with vice.”
I censured the coarse invectives which were become fashionable in the House of Commons, and said that if members of parliament must attack each other personally in the heat of debate, it should be done more genteely. Johnson. “ No, Sir; that would be much worse. Abuse is not so dangerous when there is no vehicle of wit or delicacy, no subtle conveyance. The difference between coarse and refined abuse is as the difference between being bruised
1784. by a club, and wounded by a poisoned arrow."-_I Ætat.75. have since observed his position elegantly expressed
by Dr. Young:
“ As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart, “ Good breeding sends the satire to the heart."
On Saturday, June 12, there drank tea with us at Dr. Adams's, Mr. John Henderson, student of Pembroke-College, celebrated for his wonderful acquirements in Alchymy, Judicial Astrology, and other abstruse and curious learning;' and the Reverend Herbert Croft, who, I am afraid, was somewhat mortified by Dr. Johnson's not being highly pleased with soine “ Family Discourses,” which he had printed; they were in too familiar a style to be
approved of by so manly a mind. I have no note of this evening's conversation, except a single fragment. When I mentioned Thomas Lord Lyttelton's vision, the prediction of the time of his death, and its exact fulfilinent;--JOHNSON. “It is the most extraordinary thing that has happened in my day. I heard it with my own ears, from his uncle, Lord Westcote.? I am so glad to have every evidence of the spiritual world, that I am willing to believe it.” DR. ADAMS. - You have evidence enough; good evidence, which needs not such support.” Johnson. " I like to have more.”
Mr. Henderson, with whom I had sauntered in the venerable walks of Merton-College, and found
6 See an account of him, in a sermon by the Reverend Mr. Agutter.
[A correct account of Lord Lyttelton's supposed Vision may be found in Nashe's "i History of Worcestershire; "-ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS, p. 36. M.]
him a very learned and pious man, supped with us. 1784, Dr. Johnson surprised him not a little, by acknow
Ætat. 75. ledging with a look of horrour, that he was much oppressed by the fear of death. The amiable Dr. Adams suggested that God was infinitely good. Johnson. “That he is infinitely good, as far as the perfection of his nature will allow, I certainly believe; but it is necessary for good upon the whole, that individuals should be punished. As to an individual, therefore, he is not infinitely good; and as I cannot be sure that I have fulfilled the conditions on which salvation is granted, I am afraid I may of those who shall be damned.” (looking dismally.) DR. ADAMS. “ What do you mean by damned !" Johnson. (passionately and loudly) “ Sent to Hell, Sir, and punished everlastingly.” Dr. Adams. “I don't believe that doctrine.” Johnson. “Hold, Sir, do you
believe that some will be punished at all?" DR. ADAMS. “ Being excluded from Heaven will be a punishment; yet there may be no great positive suffering.” Johnson. “Well, Sir; but, if you admit any degree of punishment, there is an end of your argument for infinite goodness simply considered; for, infinite goodness would inflict no punishment whatever. There is not infinite goodness physically considered; morally there is.” Boswell. “ But may not a man attain to such a degree of hope as not to be uneasy from the fear of death?” John. son. “ A man may have such a degree of hope as to keep him quiet. You see I am not quiet, from the vehemence with which I talk; but I do not despair." Mrs. ADAMS. “You seem, Sir, to forget the merits of our Redeemer.” Johnson. “Madam, I do not forget the merits of my Redeemer; but my ReVOL. IV:
deemer has said that he will set some on his right br hand and some on his left.”—He was in gloomy agiÆtat. 75.
tation, and said, “ I'll have no more on't.”- If what has now been stated should be urged by the enemies of Christianity, as if its influence on the mind were not benignant, let it be remembered, that Johnson's temperament was melancholy, of which such direful apprehensions of futurity are often a common effect. We shall presently see, that when he approached nearer to his aweful change, his mind became tranquil, and he exhibited as much fortitude as becomes a thinking man in that situation.
From the subject of death we passed to discourse of life, whether it was upon the whole more happy or miserable. Johnson was decidedly for the balance of misery:8 in confirmation of which I maintained, that
• The Reverend Mr. Ralph Churton, Fellow of Brazen-Nose College, Oxford, has favoured me with the following remarks on my Work, which he is pleased to say, “ I have hitherto extolled, and cordially approve."
“ The chief part of what I have to observe is contained in the following transcript from a letter to a friend, wlrich, with his concurrence, I copied for this purpose; and, whatever may be the merit or justness of the remarks, you may be sure that being written to a most intimate friend, without any intention that they ever should go further, they are the genuine and undisguised sen, timents of the writer:
• Jan 6, 1792. Last week, I was reading the second volume of Boswell's Johnson, with increasing esteem for the worthy authour, and in
reasing veneration of the wonderful and excellent man who is che subject of it. The writer throws in, now and then, very properly sore serious religious reflections; but there is one remark, in
my mind an obvious and just one, which I think he has not frade, that Johnson's “ morbid melancholy," and constitutional infirmities, were intended by Providence, like St. Paul's thorn in
no man would choose to lead over again the life 1784. which he had experienced. Johnson acceded to that
the flesh, to check intellectual conceit and arrogance, which the
The learned writer then proceeds thus in his letter to me: