Monday, August 19, 2019

Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 273


Edited by Dan Leo, Professor of 18th Century British Medicinal Studies, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: The Case of the Dropsies, the Olney Community College Press.


Artwork personally supervised by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, virtual silk-screening by eddie el greco; lettering by roy dismas ); a penmarq productions™/sternwall productions™ co-production in association with Bob’s Bowery Bar Productions™.

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{Continuing with Dr. Johnson’s letters to his friends in his final summer and autumn. – Editor}

To MR. WINDHAM:— 

August. 

'The tenderness with which you have been pleased to treat me, through my long illness, neither health nor sickness can, I hope, make me forget; and you are not to suppose, that after we parted you were no longer in my mind. But what can a sick man say, but that he is sick? His thoughts are necessarily concentered in himself; he neither receives nor can give delight; his enquiries are after alleviations of pain, and his efforts are to catch some momentary comfort.


Though I am now in the neighbourhood of the Peak, you must expect no account of its wonders, of its hills, its waters, its caverns, or its mines; but I will tell you, dear Sir, what I hope you will not hear with less satisfaction, that, for about a week past, my asthma has been less afflictive.'

Lichfield. October 2. 

'I believe you have been long enough acquainted with the phoenomena of sickness, not to be surprised that a sick man wishes to be where he is not, and where it appears to every body but himself that he might easily be, without having the resolution to remove.


I thought Ashbourne a solitary place, but did not come hither till last Monday. I have here more company, but my health has for this last week not advanced; and in the languor of disease how little can be done? Whither or when I shall make my next remove I cannot tell; but I entreat you, dear Sir, to let me know, from time to time, where you may be found, for your residence is a very powerful attractive to, Sir, your most humble servant.'



'To MR. PERKINS. 

'DEAR SIR, 

'I cannot but flatter myself that your kindness for me will make you glad to know where I am, and in what state. 

'I have been struggling very hard with my diseases. My breath has been very much obstructed, and the water has attempted to encroach upon me again. {“Water”: edema, or dropsy. – Editor} I past the first part of the summer at Oxford, afterwards I went to Lichfield, thence to Ashbourne, in Derbyshire, and a week ago I returned to Lichfield. 


'My breath is now much easier, and the water is in a great measure run away, so that I hope to see you again before winter. 

'Please to make my compliments to Mrs. Perkins, and to Mr. and Mrs. Barclay. 

'I am, dear Sir, 

'Your most humble servant, 

'SAM. JOHNSON.' 

'Lichfield, Oct. 4, 1784.'

'To THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON. 

'DEAR SIR, 


'Considering what reason you gave me in the spring to conclude that you took part in whatever good or evil might befal me, I ought not to have omitted so long the account which I am now about to give you. My diseases are an asthma and a dropsy, and, what is less curable, seventy-five. Of the dropsy, in the beginning of the summer, or in the spring, I recovered to a degree which struck with wonder both me and my physicians: the asthma now is likewise, for a time, very much relieved. I went to Oxford, where the asthma was very tyrannical, and the dropsy began again to threaten me; but seasonable physick stopped the inundation: I then returned to London, and in July took a resolution to visit Staffordshire and Derbyshire, where I am yet struggling with my diseases.


The dropsy made another attack, and was not easily ejected, but at last gave way. The asthma suddenly remitted in bed, on the 13th of August, and, though now very oppressive, is, I think, still something gentler than it was before the remission. My limbs are miserably debilitated, and my nights are sleepless and tedious. When you read this, dear Sir, you are not sorry that I wrote no sooner. I will not prolong my complaints. I hope still to see you in a happier hour, to talk over what we have often talked, and perhaps to find new topicks of merriment, or new incitements to curiosity.

I am, dear Sir, &c.

SAM. JOHNSON.

Lichfield, Oct. 20, 1784.'


'TO JOHN PARADISE, ESQ.

DEAR SIR, 

Though in all my summer's excursion I have given you no account of myself, I hope you think better of me than to imagine it possible for me to forget you, whose kindness to me has been too great and too constant not to have made its impression on a harder breast than mine. Silence is not very culpable when nothing pleasing is suppressed. It would have alleviated none of your complaints to have read my vicissitudes of evil. I have struggled hard with very formidable and obstinate maladies; and though I cannot talk of health, think all praise due to my Creator and Preserver for the continuance of my life.

The dropsy has made two attacks, and has given way to medicine; the asthma is very oppressive, but that has likewise once remitted. I am very weak, and very sleepless; but it is time to conclude the tale of misery. I hope, dear Sir, that you grow better, for you have likewise your share of human evil, and that your lady and the young charmers are well. 

I am, dear Sir, &c. 

SAM. JOHNSON. 

Lichfield, Oct. 20, 1784.'


'To MR. GEORGE NICOL. 

'Dear Sir, 


'Since we parted, I have been much oppressed by my asthma, but it has lately been less laborious. When I sit I am almost at ease, and I can walk, though yet very little, with less difficulty for this week past, than before. I hope I shall again enjoy my friends, and that you and I shall have a little more literary conversation. Where I now am, every thing is very liberally provided for me but conversation. My friend is sick himself, and the reciprocation of complaints and groans affords not much of either pleasure or instruction. What we have not at home this town does not supply, and I shall be glad of a little imported intelligence, and hope that you will bestow, now and then, a little time on the relief and entertainment of, Sir, 

'Yours, &c. 

'SAM. JOHNSON.' 

'Ashbourne, Aug. 19, 1784.'


'To MR. CRUIKSHANK. 

'Dear Sir, 

'Do not suppose that I forget you; I hope I shall never be accused of forgetting my benefactors. I had, till lately, nothing to write but complaints upon complaints, of miseries upon miseries; but within this fortnight I have received great relief. Have your Lectures any vacation? If you are released from the necessity of daily study, you may find time for a letter to me. 

'I am, dear Sir, yours, &c. 

'SAM. JOHNSON.' 

'Ashbourne, Sept. 4, 1784.'


To MR. THOMAS DAVIES — August 14. 

'The tenderness with which you always treat me, makes me culpable in my own eyes for having omitted to write in so long a separation; I had, indeed, nothing to say that you could wish to hear. All has been hitherto misery accumulated upon misery, disease corroborating disease, till yesterday my asthma was perceptibly and unexpectedly mitigated. I am much comforted with this short relief, and am willing to flatter myself that it may continue and improve. I have at present, such a degree of ease, as not only may admit the comforts, but the duties of life.

Make my compliments to Mrs. Davies.'


(classix comix™ is brought to you by Bob’s Bowery Bar – accept no bourgeois substitutes! “Yes, folks, the dog days are here in force, so if – either through poverty or work obligations, or a devilish combination of the two – you are – like yours truly! – stuck in the city, why not go where I go every single night of my life, the ‘original gangsta’ of bowery bars, Bob’s Bowery Bar! I’ll tell you, as soon as we wrap tonight’s program, myself and all the cast and crew will, in the words of the Bawdy Bard, stay not upon the order of our going, but go at once to Bob’s and order various and sundry of the fine cold beverages on offer! Myself, I’m in the mood for what my good friend Bob likes to call the Arctic A-Bomb: a bracing frozen concoction of cask-aged British Navy rum, fresh-squeezed lime juice, jaggeree, crystalized ginger, a healthy splash of Green Chartreuse, and topped off with a cherry soaked in absinthe – yum’s the word!”

– Horace P. Sternwall, host and narrator of Bob’s Bowery Bar Presents Philip Morris Commander’s “Blanche Weinberg, Lady Psychiatrist”, broadcast live 8pm Sundays {EST} exclusively on the Dumont Television Network. This week’s presentation: “Nuts Don’t Always Come in a Paper Bag”, by Herbie Pete Stumptown, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, with special guest stars Louis Prima and Keely Smith.)

  


part 274



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