'I am, Sir,

'Your most affectionate, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'[London,] May 13, 1755.'

To THE SAME.

'DEAR SIR,

'It is strange how many things will happen to intercept every pleasure, though it [be] only that of two friends meeting together. I have promised myself every day to inform you when you might expect me at Oxford, and have not been able to fix a time. The time, however, is, I think, at last come; and I promise myself to repose in Kettel-Hall, one of the first nights of the next week. I am afraid my stay with you cannot be long; but what is the inference? We must endeavour to make it chearful. I wish your brother could meet us, that we might go and drink tea with Mr. Wise in a body. I hope he will be at Oxford, or at his nest of British and Saxon antiquities[846]. I shall expect to see _Spenser_ finished, and many other things begun. Dodsley is gone to visit the Dutch. The _Dictionary_ sells well[847]. The rest of the world goes on as it did. Dear Sir,

[Page 290: Letters to Mr. Warton. A.D. 1755.]

'Your most affectionate, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'[London,] June 10, 1755.'

TO THE SAME.

'DEAR SIR,

'To talk of coming to you, and not yet to come, has an air of trifling which I would not willingly have among you; and which, I believe, you will not willingly impute to me, when I have told you, that since my promise, two of our partners[848] are dead, and that I was solicited to suspend my excursion till we could recover from our confusion.

'I have not laid aside my purpose; for every day makes me more impatient of staying from you. But death, you know, hears not supplications, nor pays any regard to the convenience of mortals. I hope now to see you next week; but next week is but another name for to-morrow, which has been noted for promising and deceiving.

'I am, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'[London,] June 24, 1755.'

To THE SAME.

'DEAR SIR,

'I told you, that among the ma.n.u.scripts are some things of Sir Thomas More. I beg you to pa.s.s an hour in looking on them, and procure a transcript of the ten or twenty first lines of each, to be compared with what I have; that I may know whether they are yet published. The ma.n.u.scripts are these:

'Catalogue of Bodl. MS. pag. 122. F. 3. Sir Thomas More.

'1. Fall of angels. 2. Creation and fall of mankind. 3. Determination of the Trinity for the rescue of mankind. 4. Five lectures of our Saviour's pa.s.sion. 5. Of the inst.i.tution of the sacrament, three lectures. 6. How to receive the blessed body of our Lord sacramentally. 7. Neomenia, the new moon. 8. _De trist.i.tia, taedio, pavore, et oratione Christi, ante captionem ejus_.

'Catalogue, pag. 154. Life of Sir Thomas More. _Qu_. Whether Roper's?

Pag. 363. _De resignatione Magni Sigilli in ma.n.u.s Regis per D. Thomam Morum_. Pag. 364. _Mori Defensio Morice_.

'If you procure the young gentleman in the library to write out what you think fit to be written, I will send to Mr. Prince the bookseller to pay him what you shall think proper.

'Be pleased to make my compliments to Mr. Wise, and all my friends.

'I am, Sir,

'Your affectionate, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'[London] Aug. 7, 1755.'

[Page 291: Publication of the DICTIONARY. aetat 46.]

The _Dictionary_, with a _Grammar and History of the English Language_, being now at length published, in two volumes folio, the world contemplated with wonder so stupendous a work achieved by one man, while other countries had thought such undertakings fit only for whole academies. Vast as his powers were, I cannot but think that his imagination deceived him, when he supposed that by constant application he might have performed the task in three years. Let the Preface be attentively perused, in which is given, in a clear, strong, and glowing style, a comprehensive, yet particular view of what he had done; and it will be evident, that the time he employed upon it was comparatively short. I am unwilling to swell my book with long quotations from what is in every body's hands, and I believe there are few prose compositions in the English language that are read with more delight, or are more impressed upon the memory, than that preliminary discourse. One of its excellencies has always struck me with peculiar admiration: I mean the perspicuity with which he has expressed abstract scientifick notions. As an instance of this, I shall quote the following sentence: 'When the radical idea branches out into parallel ramifications, how can a consecutive series be formed of senses in their own[849] nature collateral?' We have here an example of what has been often said, and I believe with justice, that there is for every thought a certain nice adaptation of words which none other could equal, and which, when a man has been so fortunate as to hit, he has attained, in that particular case, the perfection of language.

[Page 292: The Preface to the Dictionary. A.D. 1755.]

The extensive reading which was absolutely necessary for the acc.u.mulation of authorities, and which alone may account for Johnson's retentive mind being enriched with a very large and various store of knowledge and imagery, must have occupied several years. The Preface furnishes an eminent instance of a double talent, of which Johnson was fully conscious. Sir Joshua Reynolds heard him say, 'There are two things which I am confident I can do very well: one is an introduction to any literary work, stating what it is to contain, and how it should be executed in the most perfect manner; the other is a conclusion, shewing from various causes why the execution has not been equal to what the authour promised to himself and to the publick.'

How should puny scribblers be abashed and disappointed, when they find him displaying a perfect theory of lexicographical excellence, yet at the same time candidly and modestly allowing that he 'had not satisfied his own expectations[850].' Here was a fair occasion for the exercise of Johnson's modesty, when he was called upon to compare his own arduous performance, not with those of other individuals, (in which case his inflexible regard to truth would have been violated, had he affected diffidence,) but with speculative perfection[851]; as he, who can outstrip all his compet.i.tors in the race, may yet be sensible of his deficiency when he runs against time. Well might he say, that 'the _English Dictionary_ was written with little a.s.sistance of the learned[852],' for he told me, that the only aid which he received was a paper containing twenty etymologies, sent to him by a person then unknown, who he was afterwards informed was Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester[853]. The etymologies, though they exhibit learning and judgement, are not, I think, ent.i.tled to the first praise amongst the various parts of this immense work. The definitions have always appeared to me such astonishing proofs of acuteness of intellect and precision of language, as indicate a genius of the highest rank[854]. This it is which marks the superiour excellence of Johnson's _Dictionary_ over others equally or even more voluminous, and must have made it a work of much greater mental labour than mere Lexicons, or _Word-books_, as the Dutch call them. They, who will make the experiment of trying how they can define a few words of whatever nature, will soon be satisfied of the unquestionable justice of this observation, which I can a.s.sure my readers is founded upon much study, and upon communication with more minds than my own.

[Page 293: Erroneous definitions. aetat 46.]

A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. Thus, _Windward_ and _Leeward_[855], though directly of opposite meaning, are defined identically the same way; as to which inconsiderable specks it is enough to observe, that his Preface announces that he was aware there might be many such in so immense a work[856]; nor was he at all disconcerted when an instance was pointed out to him. A lady once asked him how he came to define _Pastern_ the _knee_ of a horse: instead of making an elaborate defence, as she expected, he at once answered, 'Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance[857].' His definition of _Network_[858]

has been often quoted with sportive malignity[859], as obscuring a thing in itself very plain. But to these frivolous censures no other answer is necessary than that with which we are furnished by his own Preface.

[Page 294: Humorous definitions. A.D. 1755.]

'To explain, requires the use of terms less abstruse than that which is to be explained, and such terms cannot always be found. For as nothing can be proved but by supposing something intuitively known, and evident without proof, so nothing can be defined but by the use of words too plain to admit of definition[860]. Sometimes easier words are changed into harder; as, _burial_, into _sepulture_ or _interment; dry_[861], into _desiccative_; _dryness_, into _siccity_ or _aridity; fit_, into _paroxism_; for the _easiest_ word, whatever it be, can never be translated into one more easy.'

[Page 295: Humorous definitions.]

His introducing his own opinions, and even prejudices, under general definitions of words, while at the same time the original meaning of the words is not explained, as his _Tory_[862], _Whig_[863], _Pension_[864], _Oats_[865], _Excise_[866], and a few more, cannot be fully defended, and must be placed to the account of capricious and humorous indulgence[867].

Talking to me upon this subject when we were at Ashbourne in 1777, he mentioned a still stronger instance of the predominance of his private feelings in the composition of this work, than any now to be found in it. 'You know, Sir, Lord Gower forsook the old Jacobite interest. When I came to the word _Renegado_, after telling that it meant "one who deserts to the enemy, a revolter," I added, _Sometimes we say a GOWER_[868]. Thus it went to the press; but the printer had more wit than I, and struck it out.'

[Page 296: Humorous definitions. A.D. 1756.]

Let it, however, be remembered, that this indulgence does not display itself only in sarcasm towards others, but sometimes in playful allusion to the notions commonly entertained of his own laborious task. Thus: '_Grub-street_, the name of a street in London, much inhabited by writers of small histories, _dictionaries_, and temporary poems; whence any mean production is called _Grub-street_[869].'--'_Lexicographer_, a writer of dictionaries, a _harmless drudge_[870]'.

[Page 297: The gloom of solitude. aetat 46.]

At the time when he was concluding his very eloquent Preface, Johnson's mind appears to have been in such a state of depression[871], that we cannot contemplate without wonder the vigorous and splendid thoughts which so highly distinguish that performance. 'I (says he) may surely be contented without the praise of perfection, which if I could obtain in this gloom of solitude, what would it avail me? I have protracted my work till most of those whom I wished to please have sunk into the grave; and success and miscarriage are empty sounds, I therefore dismiss it with frigid tranquillity, having little to fear or hope from censure or from praise[872].' That this indifference was rather a temporary than an habitual feeling, appears, I think, from his letters to Mr.

Warton[873]; and however he may have been affected for the moment, certain it is that the honours which his great work procured him, both at home and abroad, were very grateful to him[874]. His friend the Earl of Corke and Orrery, being at Florence, presented it to the _Academia della Crusca_. That Academy sent Johnson their _Vocabulario_, and the French Academy sent him their _Dictionnaire_, which Mr. Langton had the pleasure to convey to him[875].

[Page 298: His melancholy at its meridian. A.D. 1755.]

It must undoubtedly seem strange, that the conclusion of his Preface should be expressed in terms so desponding, when it is considered that the authour was then only in his forty-sixth year. But we must ascribe its gloom to that miserable dejection of spirits to which he was const.i.tutionally subject, and which was aggravated by the death of his wife two years before[876]. I have heard it ingeniously observed by a lady of rank and elegance, that 'his melancholy was then at its meridian[877].'

It pleased G.o.d to grant him almost thirty years of life after this time; and once, when he was in a placid frame of mind, he was obliged to own to me that he had enjoyed happier days, and had many more friends, since that gloomy hour than before[878].

[Page 299: Johnson's happiest days last. aetat 46.]