Life of Johnson Volume IV Part 3

'Images such as the superficies of nature [easily] _readily_ supplies.

'[His] Some applications [are sometimes] _may be thought_ too remote and unconsequential.

'His images are [sometimes confused] _not always distinct_?

Against his Life of MILTON, the hounds of Whiggism have opened in full cry[143]. But of Milton's great excellence as a poet, where shall we find such a blazon as by the hand of Johnson? I shall select only the following pa.s.sage concerning _Paradise Lost_[144]:

'Fancy can hardly forbear to conjecture with what temper Milton surveyed the silent progress of his work, and marked his reputation stealing its way in a kind of subterraneous current, through fear and silence. I cannot but conceive him calm and confident, little disappointed, not at all dejected, relying on his own merit with steady consciousness, and waiting without impatience the vicissitudes of opinion, and the impartiality of a future generation[145].'

Indeed even Dr. Towers, who may be considered as one of the warmest zealots of _The Revolution Society_[146] itself, allows, that 'Johnson has spoken in the highest terms of the abilities of that great poet, and has bestowed on his princ.i.p.al poetical compositions the most honourable encomiums[147].'

That a man, who venerated the Church and Monarchy as Johnson did, should speak with a just abhorrence of Milton as a politician, or rather as a daring foe to good polity, was surely to be expected; and to those who censure him, I would recommend his commentary on Milton's celebrated complaint of his situation, when by the lenity of Charles the Second, 'a lenity of which (as Johnson well observes) the world has had perhaps no other example, he, who had written in justification of the murder of his Sovereign, was safe under an Act of Oblivion[148].'

'No sooner is he safe than he finds himself in danger, _fallen on evil days and evil tongues_, [and] _with darkness and with danger compa.s.sed round_[149]. This darkness, had his eyes been better employed, had undoubtedly deserved compa.s.sion; but to add the mention of danger, was ungrateful and unjust. He was fallen, indeed, on _evil days_; the time was come in which regicides could no longer boast their wickedness. But of _evil tongues_ for Milton to complain, required impudence at least equal to his other powers; Milton, whose warmest advocates must allow, that he never spared any asperity of reproach, or brutality of insolence[150].'

I have, indeed, often wondered how Milton, 'an acrimonious and surly Republican[151],'--'a man who in his domestick relations was so severe and arbitrary[152],' and whose head was filled with the hardest and most dismal tenets of Calvinism[153], should have been such a poet; should not only have written with sublimity, but with beauty, and even gaiety; should have exquisitely painted the sweetest sensations of which our nature is capable; imaged the delicate raptures of connubial love; nay, seemed to be animated with all the spirit of revelry. It is a proof that in the human mind the departments of judgement and imagination, perception and temper, may sometimes be divided by strong part.i.tions; and that the light and shade in the same character may be kept so distinct as never to be blended[154].

In the Life of Milton, Johnson took occasion to maintain his own and the general opinion of the excellence of rhyme over blank verse, in English poetry[155]; and quotes this apposite ill.u.s.tration of it by 'an ingenious critick,' that _it seems to be verse only to the eye_[156].

The gentleman whom he thus characterises, is (as he told Mr. Seward) Mr.

Lock[157], of Norbury Park, in Surrey, whose knowledge and taste in the fine arts is universally celebrated; with whose elegance of manners the writer of the present work has felt himself much impressed, and to whose virtues a common friend, who has known him long, and is not much addicted to flattery, gives the highest testimony.

_Various Readings in the Life of_ MILTON.

'I cannot find any meaning but this which [his most bigotted advocates]

_even kindness and reverence_ can give.

'[Perhaps no] _scarcely any_ man ever wrote so much, and praised so few.

'A certain [rescue] _perservative_ from oblivion.

'Let me not be censured for this digression, as [contracted] _pedantick_ or paradoxical.

'Socrates rather was of opinion, that what we had to learn was how to [obtain and communicate happiness] _do good and avoid evil_.

'Its elegance [who can exhibit?] _is less attainable._'

I could, with pleasure, expatiate upon the masterly execution of the Life of DRYDEN, which we have seen[158] was one of Johnson's literary projects at an early period, and which it is remarkable, that after desisting from it, from a supposed scantiness of materials, he should, at an advanced age, have exhibited so amply.

His defence[159] of that great poet against the illiberal attacks upon him, as if his embracing the Roman Catholick communion had been a time-serving measure, is a piece of reasoning at once able and candid.

Indeed, Dryden himself, in his _Hind and Panther_, has given such a picture of his mind, that they who know the anxiety for repose as to the aweful subject of our state beyond the grave, though they may think his opinion ill-founded, must think charitably of his sentiment:--

'But, gracious G.o.d, how well dost thou provide For erring judgements an unerring guide!

Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.

O! teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd, And search no farther than thyself reveal'd; But Her alone for my director take, Whom thou hast promis'd never to forsake.

My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires; My manhood long misled by wand'ring fires, Follow'd false lights; and when their glimpse was gone, My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.

Such was I, such by Nature still I am; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.

Good life be now my task: my doubts are done; What more could shock[160] my faith than Three in One?'

In drawing Dryden's character, Johnson has given, though I suppose unintentionally, some touches of his own. Thus:--'The power that predominated in his intellectual operations was rather strong reason than quick sensibility. Upon all occasions that were presented, he studied rather than felt; and produced sentiments not such as Nature enforces, but meditation supplies. With the simple and elemental pa.s.sions as they spring separate in the mind, he seems not much acquainted. He is, therefore, with all his variety of excellence, not often pathetick; and had so little sensibility of the power of effusions purely natural, that he did not esteem them in others[161].' It may indeed be observed, that in all the numerous writings of Johnson, whether in prose or verse, and even in his Tragedy, of which the subject is the distress of an unfortunate Princess, there is not a single pa.s.sage that ever drew a tear[162].

_Various Readings in the Life of_ DRYDEN.

'The reason of this general perusal, Addison has attempted to [find in]

_derive from_ the delight which the mind feels in the investigation of secrets.

'His best actions are but [convenient] _inability of_ wickedness.

'When once he had engaged himself in disputation, [matter] _thoughts_ flowed in on either side.

'The abyss of an un-ideal [emptiness] _vacancy_.

'These, like [many other harlots,] _the harlots of other men_, had his love though not his approbation.

'He [sometimes displays] _descends to display_ his knowledge with pedantick ostentation.

'French words which [were then used in] _had then crept into_ conversation.'

The Life of POPE[163] was written by Johnson _con amore_, both from the early possession which that writer had taken of his mind, and from the pleasure which he must have felt, in for ever silencing all attempts to lessen his poetical fame, by demonstrating his excellence, and p.r.o.nouncing the following triumphant eulogium[164]:--'After all this, it is surely superfluous to answer the question that has once been asked, Whether Pope was a poet? otherwise than by asking in return, If Pope be not a poet, where is poetry to be found? To circ.u.mscribe poetry by a definition, will only shew the narrowness of the definer; though a definition which shall exclude Pope will not easily be made. Let us look round upon the present time, and back upon the past; let us enquire to whom the voice of mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the pretensions of Pope will be no more disputed.'

I remember once to have heard Johnson say, 'Sir, a thousand years may elapse before there shall appear another man with a power of versification equal to that of Pope.' That power must undoubtedly be allowed its due share in enhancing the value of his captivating composition.

Johnson, who had done liberal justice to Warburton in his edition of _Shakspeare_[165], which was published during the life of that powerful writer, with still greater liberality[166] took an opportunity, in the Life of Pope, of paying the tribute due to him when he was no longer in 'high place,' but numbered with the dead[167].

It seems strange, that two such men as Johnson and Warburton, who lived in the same age and country, should not only not have been in any degree of intimacy, but been almost personally unacquainted. But such instances, though we must wonder at them, are not rare. If I am rightly informed, after a careful enquiry, they never met but once, which was at the house of Mrs. French, in London, well known for her elegant a.s.semblies, and bringing eminent characters together. The interview proved to be mutually agreeable[168].

I am well informed, that Warburton said of Johnson, 'I admire him, but I cannot bear his style:' and that Johnson being told of this, said, 'That is exactly my case as to him[169].' The manner in which he expressed his admiration of the fertility of Warburton's genius and of the variety of his materials was, 'The table is always full, Sir. He brings things from the north, and the south, and from every quarter. In his _Divine Legation_, you are always entertained. He carries you round and round, without carrying you forward to the point; but then you have no wish to be carried forward.' He said to the Reverend Mr. Strahan, 'Warburton is perhaps the last man who has written with a mind full of reading and reflection[170].'

It is remarkable, that in the Life of Broome[171], Johnson takes notice of Dr. Warburton using a mode of expression which he himself used, and that not seldom, to the great offence of those who did not know him.

Having occasion to mention a note, stating the different parts which were executed by the a.s.sociated translators of _The Odyssey_, he says, 'Dr. Warburton told me, in his warm language, that he thought the relation given in the note _a lie_. The language is _warm_ indeed; and, I must own, cannot be justified in consistency with a decent regard to the established forms of speech. Johnson had accustomed himself to use the word _lie_[172], to express a mistake or an errour in relation; in short, when the _thing was not so as told_, though the relator did not _mean_ to deceive. When he thought there was intentional falsehood in the relator, his expression was, 'He _lies_, and he _knows_ he _lies_.'

Speaking of Pope's not having been known to excel in conversation, Johnson observes, that 'traditional memory retains no sallies of raillery, or[173] sentences of observation; nothing either pointed or solid, wise or merry[174]; and that one apophthegm only is recorded[175].' In this respect, Pope differed widely from Johnson, whose conversation was, perhaps, more admirable than even his writings, however excellent. Mr. Wilkes has, however, favoured me with one repartee of Pope, of which Johnson was not informed. Johnson, after justly censuring him for having 'nursed in his mind a foolish dis-esteem of Kings,' tells us, 'yet a little regard shewn him by the Prince of Wales melted his obduracy; and he had not much to say when he was asked by his Royal Highness, _how he could love a Prince, while he disliked Kings_[176]?' The answer which Pope made, was, 'The young lion is harmless, and even playful; but when his claws are full grown he becomes cruel, dreadful, and mischievous.'

But although we have no collection of Pope's sayings, it is not therefore to be concluded, that he was not agreeable in social intercourse; for Johnson has been heard to say, that 'the happiest conversation is that of which nothing is distinctly remembered but a general effect of pleasing impression.' The late Lord Somerville[177], who saw much both of great and brilliant life, told me, that he had dined in company with Pope, and that after dinner the _little man_, as he called him, drank his bottle of Burgundy, and was exceedingly gay and entertaining.

I cannot withhold from my great friend a censure of at least culpable inattention, to a n.o.bleman, who, it has been shewn[178], behaved to him with uncommon politeness. He says, 'Except Lord Bathurst, none of Pope's n.o.ble friends were such as that a good man would wish to have his intimacy with them known to posterity[179].' This will not apply to Lord Mansfield, who was not enn.o.bled in Pope's life-time; but Johnson should have recollected, that Lord Marchmont was one of those n.o.ble friends. He includes his Lords.h.i.+p along with Lord Bolingbroke, in a charge of neglect of the papers which Pope left by his will; when, in truth, as I myself pointed out to him, before he wrote that poet's life, the papers were 'committed to _the sole care and judgement_ of Lord Bolingbroke, unless he (Lord Bolingbroke) shall not survive me;' so that Lord Marchmont had no concern whatever with them[180]. After the first edition of the _Lives_, Mr. Malone, whose love of justice is equal to his accuracy, made, in my hearing, the same remark to Johnson; yet he omitted to correct the erroneous statement[181]. These particulars I mention, in the belief that there was only forgetfulness in my friend; but I owe this much to the Earl of Marchmont's reputation, who, were there no other memorials, will be immortalised by that line of Pope, in the verses on his Grotto:

'And the bright flame was shot through Marchmont's soul.'

_Various Readings in the Life of POPE._

'[Somewhat free] _sufficiently bold_ in his criticism.

'All the gay [niceties] _varieties_ of diction.

'Strikes the imagination with far [more] _greater_ force.

'It is [probably] _certainly_ the n.o.blest version of poetry which the world has ever seen.

'Every sheet enabled him to write the next with [less trouble] _more facility_.