Life of Johnson Volume III Part 20

Welch accordingly went abroad, accompanied by his daughter Anne, a young lady of uncommon talents and literature.

'TO SAUNDERS WELCH, ESQ., AT THE ENGLISH COFFEE-HOUSE, ROME.

'DEAR SIR,

'To have suffered one of my best and dearest friends to pa.s.s almost two years in foreign countries without a letter, has a very shameful appearance of inattention. But the truth is, that there was no particular time in which I had any thing particular to say; and general expressions of good will, I hope, our long friends.h.i.+p is grown too solid to want.

'Of publick affairs you have information from the news-papers wherever you go, for the English keep no secret; and of other things, Mrs.

Nollekens informs you. My intelligence could therefore be of no use; and Miss Nancy's letters made it unnecessary to write to you for information: I was likewise for some time out of humour, to find that motion, and nearer approaches to the sun, did not restore your health so fast as I expected. Of your health, the accounts have lately been more pleasing; and I have the gratification of imaging to myself a length of years which I hope you have gained, and of which the enjoyment will be improved by a vast accession of images and observations which your journeys and various residence have enabled you to make and acc.u.mulate.

You have travelled with this felicity, almost peculiar to yourself, that your companion is not to part from you at your journey's end; but you are to live on together, to help each other's recollection, and to supply each other's omissions. The world has few greater pleasures than that which two friends enjoy, in tracing back, at some distant time, those transactions and events through which they have pa.s.sed together.

One of the old man's miseries is, that he cannot easily find a companion able to partake with him of the past. You and your fellow-traveller have this comfort in store, that your conversation will be not easily exhausted; one will always be glad to say what the other will always be willing to hear.

'That you may enjoy this pleasure long, your health must have your constant attention. I suppose you purpose to return this year. There is no need of haste: do not come hither before the height of summer, that you may fall gradually into the inconveniences of your native clime.

July seems to be the proper month. August and September will prepare you for the winter. After having travelled so far to find health, you must take care not to lose it at home; and I hope a little care will effectually preserve it.

'Miss Nancy has doubtless kept a constant and copious journal. She must not expect to be welcome when she returns, without a great ma.s.s of information. Let her review her journal often, and set down what she finds herself to have omitted, that she may trust to memory as little as possible, for memory is soon confused by a quick succession of things; and she will grow every day less confident of the truth of her own narratives, unless she can recur to some written memorials. If she has satisfied herself with hints, instead of full representations, let her supply the deficiencies now while her memory is yet fresh, and while her father's memory may help her. If she observes this direction, she will not have travelled in vain; for she will bring home a book with which she may entertain herself to the end of life. If it were not now too late, I would advise her to note the impression which the first sight of any thing new and wonderful made upon her mind. Let her now set her thoughts down as she can recollect them; for faint as they may already be, they will grow every day fainter.

'Perhaps I do not flatter myself unreasonably when I imagine that you may wish to know something of me. I can gratify your benevolence with no account of health. The hand of time, or of disease, is very heavy upon me. I pa.s.s restless and uneasy nights, hara.s.sed with convulsions of my breast, and flatulencies at my stomach; and restless nights make heavy days. But nothing will be mended by complaints, and therefore I will make an end. When we meet, we will try to forget our cares and our maladies, and contribute, as we can, to the chearfulness of each other.

If I had gone with you, I believe I should have been better; but I do not know that it was in my power.

'I am, dear Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM, JOHNSON.'

'Feb. 3, 1778.'

This letter, while it gives admirable advice how to travel to the best advantage, and will therefore be of very general use, is another eminent proof of Johnson's warm and affectionate heart[615].

'TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.

'Edinburgh, Feb. 26, 1778.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'Why I have delayed, for near a month, to thank you for your last affectionate letter, I cannot say; for my mind has been in better health these three weeks than for some years past. I believe I have evaded till I could send you a copy of Lord Hailes's opinion on the negro's cause, which he wishes you to read, and correct any errours that there may be in the language; for, says he, "we live in a critical, though not a learned age; and I seek to screen myself under the s.h.i.+eld of Ajax." I communicated to him your apology for keeping the sheets of his _Annals_ so long. He says, "I am sorry to see that Dr. Johnson is in a state of languor. Why should a sober Christian, neither an enthusiast nor a fanatick, be very merry or very sad?" I envy his Lords.h.i.+p's comfortable const.i.tution: but well do I know that languor and dejection will afflict the best, however excellent their principles. I am in possession of Lord Hailes's opinion in his own hand-writing, and have had it for some time.

My excuse then for procrastination must be, that I wanted to have it copied; and I have now put that off so long, that it will be better to bring it with me than send it, as I shall probably get you to look at it sooner, when I solicit you in person.

'My wife, who is, I thank G.o.d, a good deal better, is much obliged to you for your very polite and courteous offer of your apartment: but, if she goes to London, it will be best for her to have lodgings in the more airy vicinity of Hyde-Park. I, however, doubt much if I shall be able to prevail with her to accompany me to the metropolis; for she is so different from you and me, that she dislikes travelling; and she is so anxious about her children, that she thinks she should be unhappy if at a distance from them. She therefore wishes rather to go to some country place in Scotland, where she can have them with her.

'I purpose being in London about the 20th of next month, as I think it creditable to appear in the House of Lords as one of Douglas's Counsel, in the great and last compet.i.tion between Duke Hamilton and him[616].

'I am sorry poor Mrs. Williams is so ill: though her temper is unpleasant, she has always been polite and obliging to me. I wish many happy years to good Mr. Levett, who I suppose holds his usual place at your breakfast table[617].

'I ever am, my dear Sir,

'Your affectionate humble servant,

'JAMES BOSWELL.'

TO THE SAME.

'Edinburgh, Feb. 28, 1778.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'You are at present busy amongst the English poets, preparing, for the publick instruction and entertainment, Prefaces, biographical and critical. It will not, therefore, be out of season to appeal to you for the decision of a controversy which has arisen between a lady and me concerning a pa.s.sage in Parnell. That poet tells us, that his Hermit quitted his cell

"... to know the world by sight, To find if _books_ or _swains_ report it right; (For yet by _swains alone_ the world he knew, Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew.)"

I maintain, that there is an inconsistency here; for as the Hermit's notions of the world were formed from the reports both of _books_ and _swains_, he could not justly be said to know by _swains alone_. Be pleased to judge between us, and let us have your reasons[618].

'What do you say to _Taxation no Tyranny_, now, after Lord North's declaration, or confession, or whatever else his conciliatory speech should be called[619]? I never differed from you in politicks but upon two points,--the Middles.e.x Election[620], and the Taxation of the Americans by the _British Houses of Representatives_[621]. There is a _charm _in the word _Parliament_, so I avoid it. As I am a steady and a warm Tory, I regret that the King does not see it to be better for him to receive const.i.tutional supplies from his American subjects by the voice of their own a.s.semblies, where his Royal Person is represented, than through the medium of his British subjects. I am persuaded that the power of the Crown, which I wish to increase, would be greater when in contact with all its dominions, than if "the rays of regal bounty[622]" were to "s.h.i.+ne"

upon America through that dense and troubled body, a modern British Parliament. But, enough of this subject; for your angry voice at Ashbourne[623] upon it, still sounds aweful "in my mind's _ears_[624]."

'I ever am, my dear Sir,

'Your most affectionate humble servant,

'JAMES BOSWELL.'

TO THE SAME.

'Edinburgh, March 12, 1778.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'The alarm of your late illness distressed me but a few hours; for on the evening of the day that it reached me, I found it contradicted in _The London Chronicle_, which I could depend upon as authentick concerning you, Mr. Strahan being the printer of it. I did not see the paper in which "the approaching extinction of a bright luminary" was announced. Sir William Forbes told me of it; and he says, he saw me so uneasy, that he did not give me the report in such strong terms as he read it. He afterwards sent me a letter from Mr. Langton to him, which relieved me much. I am, however, not quite easy, as I have not heard from you; and now I shall not have that comfort before I see you, for I set out for London to-morrow before the post comes in. I hope to be with you on Wednesday morning; and I ever am, with the highest veneration, my dear Sir, your much obliged, faithful, and affectionate,

'Humble servant,

'JAMES BOSWELL.'

On Wednesday, March 18, I arrived in London, and was informed by good Mr. Francis that his master was better, and was gone to Mr. Thrale's at Streatham, to which place I wrote to him, begging to know when he would be in town. He was not expected for some time; but next day having called on Dr. Taylor, in Dean's-yard, Westminster, I found him there, and was told he had come to town for a few hours. He met me with his usual kindness, but instantly returned to the writing of something on which he was employed when I came in, and on which he seemed much intent. Finding him thus engaged, I made my visit very short, and had no more of his conversation, except his expressing a serious regret that a friend of ours[625] was living at too much expence, considering how poor an appearance he made: 'If (said he) a man has splendour from his expence, if he spends his money in pride or in pleasure, he has value: but if he lets others spend it for him, which is most commonly the case, he has no advantage from it.'

On Friday, March 20, I found him at his own house, sitting with Mrs.

Williams, and was informed that the room formerly allotted to me[626] was now appropriated to a charitable purpose; Mrs. Desmoulins[627], and I think her daughter, and a Miss Carmichael, being all lodged in it. Such was his humanity, and such his generosity, that Mrs. Desmoulins herself told me, he allowed her half-a-guinea a week. Let it be remembered, that this was above a twelfth part of his pension.