moby dick

adapted from the book by herman melville

illustrations by roy dismas

Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 244

Edited by Dan Leo, Associate Professor of 18th Century British Arts and Letters, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: The Bawd from Battersea’s Bequest, the Olney Community College Press.

Artwork personally supervised by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, computer-generated colorization by eddie el greco; lettering by roy dismas) for penmarqorgasmiq™ productions.

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To THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM WINDHAM.  Sir, The bringer of this letter is the father of Miss Philips, a singer, who comes to try her voice on the stage at Dublin.  Mr. Philips is one of my old friends; and as I am of opinion that neither he nor his daughter will do any thing that can disgrace their benefactors, I take the liberty of entreating you to countenance and protect them so far as may be suitable to your station and character {Windham was Secretary to the Earl of Northington, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. – Editor} ; and shall consider myself as obliged by any favourable notice which they shall have the honour of receiving from you. I am, Sir,  Your most humble servant, SAM JOHNSON. London, May 31, 1783.' The following is another instance of his active benevolence:—  'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.  DEAR SIR, I have sent you some of my god-son's performances, of which I do not pretend to form any opinion. When I took the liberty of mentioning him to you, I did not know what I have since been told, that Mr. Moser had admitted him among the Students of the Academy. What more can be done for him I earnestly entreat you to consider; for I am very desirous that he should derive some advantage from my connection with him. If you are inclined to see him, I will bring him to wait on you, at any time that you shall be pleased to appoint.  I am, Sir, Your most humble servant,  SAM. JOHNSON. June 2, 1783.' My anxious apprehensions at parting with him this year proved to be but too well founded; for not long afterwards he had a dreadful stroke of the palsy, of which there are very full and accurate accounts in letters written by himself, to shew with what composure of mind, and resignation to the Divine Will, his steady piety enabled him to behave. 'TO MR. EDMUND ALLEN.  DEAR SIR, It has pleased GOD, this morning, to deprive me of the powers of speech; and as I do not know but that it may be his further good pleasure to deprive me soon of my senses, I request you will on the receipt of this note, come to me, and act for me, as the exigencies of my case may require. I am,  Sincerely yours,  SAM. JOHNSON. June 17, 1783.' 'TO THE REVEREND DR. JOHN TAYLOR. 'DEAR SIR,  It has pleased GOD, by a Paralytick stroke in the night, to deprive me of speech.  I am very desirous of Dr. Heberden's assistance, as I think my case is not past remedy. Let me see you as soon as it is possible. Bring Dr. Heberden with you, if you can; but come yourself at all events. I am glad you are so well, when I am so dreadfully attacked.  I think that by a speedy application of stimulants much may be done. I question if a vomit, vigorous and rough, would not rouse the organs of speech to action. As it is too early to send, I will try to recollect what I can, that can be suspected to have brought on this dreadful distress.  I have been accustomed to bleed frequently for an asthmatick complaint; but have forborne for some time by Dr. Pepys's persuasion, who perceived my legs beginning to swell. I sometimes alleviate a painful, or more properly an oppressive, constriction of my chest, by opiates; and have lately taken opium frequently, but the last, or two last times, in smaller quantities. My largest dose is three grains, and last night I took but two. You will suggest these things (and they are all that I can call to mind) to Dr. Heberden. I am, &c. SAM. JOHNSON. June 17, 1783.' Two days after he wrote thus to Mrs. Thrale:— 'On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture {Painted by Frances Reynolds, youngest sister of Joshua Reynolds; Johnson referred to the painting as his “grimly ghost”. – Editor}, and walked a considerable way with little inconvenience. In the afternoon and evening I felt myself light and easy, and began to plan schemes of life. Thus I went to bed, and in a short time waked and sat up, as has been long my custom, when I felt a confusion and indistinctness in my head, which lasted, I suppose, about half a minute. I was alarmed, and prayed God, that however he might afflict my body, he would spare my understanding. This prayer, that I might try the integrity of my faculties, I made in Latin verse. The lines were not very good, but I knew them not to be very good: I made them easily, and concluded myself to be unimpaired in my faculties. Soon after I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick stroke, and that my speech was taken from me. I had no pain, and so little dejection in this dreadful state, that I wondered at my own apathy, and considered that perhaps death itself, when it should come, would excite less horrour than seems now to attend it. In order to rouse the vocal organs, I took two drams. Wine has been celebrated for the production of eloquence. I put myself into violent motion, and I think repeated it; but all was vain. I then went to bed, and strange as it may seem, I think slept. When I saw light, it was time to contrive what I should do. Though God stopped my speech, he left me my hand. My first note was necessarily to my servant, who came in talking, and could not immediately comprehend why he should read what I put into his hands. I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have a discreet friend at hand, to act as occasion should require. In penning this note, I had some difficulty; my hand, I knew not how nor why, made wrong letters. I then wrote to Dr. Taylor to come to me, and bring Dr. Heberden; and I sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is my neighbour. My physicians are very friendly, and give me great hopes; but you may imagine my situation. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to repeat the Lord's Prayer with no very imperfect articulation. My memory, I hope, yet remains as it was; but such an attack produces solicitude for the safety of every faculty.' 'To MR. THOMAS DAVIES.  'DEAR SIR, I have had, indeed, a very heavy blow; but GOD, who yet spares my life, I humbly hope will spare my understanding, and restore my speech. As I am not at all helpless, I want no particular assistance, but am strongly affected by Mrs. Davies's tenderness; and when I think she can do me good, shall be very glad to call upon her. I had ordered friends to be shut out; but one or two have found the way in; and if you come you shall be admitted: for I know not whom I can see, that will bring more amusement on his tongue, or more kindness in his heart. I am, &c.  SAM. JOHNSON. June 18, 1783.' It gives me great pleasure to preserve such a memorial of Johnson's regard for Mr. Davies, to whom I was indebted for my introduction to him. He indeed loved Davies cordially, of which I shall give the following little evidence. One day when he had treated him with too much asperity, Tom, who was not without pride and spirit, went off in a passion; but he had hardly reached home, when Frank, who had been sent after him, delivered this note:—'Come, come, dear Davies, I am always sorry when we quarrel; send me word that we are friends.' (classix comix™ is brought to you by Bob’s Bowery Bar, conveniently located at the northwest corner of Bleecker and the Bowery: “Gee, the weatherman predicts a bitter winter storm’s a-comin’, so if your ‘pad’ is as badly-insulated as mine is, why not go to where the toasty temperature on the Fahrenheit scale is equaled by the human warmth of its management, staff and patrons – yes, I speak of my favorite ‘hang’, Bob’s Bowery Bar! Warm up your insides with a big steaming bowl of this week’s blue-plate special: Bob’s Hellfire Chili, a five-alarm mélange of slow-simmered black beans ‘n’  beef served with your choice of fresh-from-the-box Uneeda Biscuits or Sailor Boy hardtack. At only a buck a bowl, I say: ‘Bring on the heat!’” – 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: “The Billionaire Beatnik”, by Humphrey P. Stagger-Lee, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, and guest-starring William S. Burroughs as “Big Daddy Bill”.)  part 245

Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 243

Edited by Dan Leo, Assistant Professor of 18th Century British Oratorical Studies, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: Miss Burney’s Request, the Olney Community College Press.

Art direction by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, copperplate etchings by eddie el greco; lettering by roy dismas ) for penmarqoqomix™ productions.

to begin at the beginning, click here

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On Saturday, May 17, I saw him for a short time. Having mentioned that I had that morning been with old Mr. Sheridan {Thomas Sheridan, father of the playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan. – Editor}, he remembered their former intimacy with a cordial warmth, and said to me, 'Tell Mr. Sheridan, I shall be glad to see him, and shake hands with him.'  BOSWELL. 'It is to me very wonderful that resentment should be kept up so long.'  JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is not altogether resentment that he does not visit me; it is partly falling out of the habit,— partly disgust, as one has at a drug that has made him sick. Besides, he knows that I laugh at his oratory.' {Johnson had been quoted as saying, 'Sheridan's writings on elocution were a continual renovation of hope, and an unvaried succession of disappointments.' – Editor} Another day I spoke of one of our friends, of whom he, as well as I, had a very high opinion. He expatiated in his praise; but added, 'Sir, he is a cursed Whig, a bottomless Whig, as they all are now.' I mentioned my expectations from the interest of an eminent person then in power; adding, 'but I have no claim but the claim of friendship; however, some people will go a great way from that motive.'  JOHNSON. 'Sir, they will go all the way from that motive.'   A gentleman talked of retiring.  'Never think of that,' said Johnson.  The gentleman urged, 'I should then do no ill.'  JOHNSON. 'Nor no good either.' On Monday, May 26, I found him at tea, and the celebrated Miss Burney {Fanny Burney, a young and popular novelist of the day – Editor}, the authour of Evelina and Cecilia, with him.  I asked if there would be any speakers in Parliament, if there were no places to be obtained.  JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir. Why do you speak here? Either to instruct and entertain, which is a benevolent motive; or for distinction, which is a selfish motive.'  I mentioned Cecilia.  JOHNSON. (with an air of animated satisfaction) 'Sir, if you talk of Cecilia, talk on.' I asked whether a man naturally virtuous, or one who has overcome wicked inclinations, is the best.  JOHNSON. 'Sir, to you, the man who has overcome wicked inclinations is not the best. He has more merit to himself: I would rather trust my money to a man who has no hands, and so a physical impossibility to steal, than to a man of the most honest principles. There is a witty satirical story of Foote. He had a small bust of Garrick placed upon his bureau, "You may be surprized (said he) that I allow him to be so near my gold;— but you will observe he has no hands."' On Friday, May 29, being to set out for Scotland next morning, I passed a part of the day with him in more than usual earnestness; as his health was in a more precarious state than at any time when I had parted from him. He, however, was quick and lively, and critical as usual. I mentioned one who was a very learned man.  JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, he has a great deal of learning; but it never lies straight. There is never one idea by the side of another; 'tis all entangled: and then he drives it so aukwardly upon conversation.' I stated to him an anxious thought, by which a sincere Christian might be disturbed, even when conscious of having lived a good life, so far as is consistent with human infirmity; he might fear that he should afterwards fall away, and be guilty of such crimes as would render all his former religion vain. Could there be, upon this aweful subject, such a thing as balancing of accounts? Suppose a man who has led a good life for seven years, commits an act of wickedness, and instantly dies; will his former good life have any effect in his favour?  JOHNSON. 'Sir, if a man has led a good life for seven years, and then is hurried by passion to do what is wrong, and is suddenly carried off, depend upon it he will have the reward of his seven years' good life; GOD will not take a catch of him. Upon this principle Richard Baxter believes that a Suicide may be saved. "If, (says he) it should be objected that what I maintain may encourage suicide, I answer, I am not to tell a lie to prevent it."'  BOSWELL. 'But does not the text say, "As the tree falls, so it must lie?"'  JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; as the tree falls: but,—( after a little pause)— that is meant as to the general state of the tree, not what is the effect of a sudden blast.'  In short, he interpreted the expression as referring to condition, not to position. The common notion, therefore, seems to be erroneous; and Shenstone's witty remark on Divines trying to give the tree a jerk upon a death-bed, to make it lie favourably, is not well founded. He said, 'Get as much force of mind as you can. Live within your income. Always have something saved at the end of the year. Let your imports be more than your exports, and you'll never go far wrong.' I assured him, that in the extensive and various range of his acquaintance there never had been any one who had a more sincere respect and affection for him than I had.  He said, 'I believe it, Sir. Were I in distress, there is no man to whom I should sooner come than to you. I should like to come and have a cottage in your park, toddle about, live mostly on milk, and be taken care of by Mrs. Boswell. She and I are good friends now; are we not?' Talking of devotion, he said, 'Though it be true that "GOD dwelleth not in temples made with hands," yet in this state of being, our minds are more piously affected in places appropriated to divine worship, than in others. Some people have a particular room in their house, where they say their prayers; of which I do not disapprove, as it may animate their devotion.' He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual when I was leaving him for any length of time. I walked from his door to-day, with a fearful apprehension of what might happen before I returned. (classix comix™ is made possible in part through the generous support of the Bob’s Bowery Bar Foundation for the Unremunerative Arts: “Yes, brrr – say, it’s really getting frigid out there! If the heat in your ‘pad’ is (like mine) seemingly stuck permanently in the low 50s Fahrenheit, why not follow my lead and enjoy the warmth – yes, physical but also spiritual – of Bob’s Bowery Bar? And, à propos, allow me to recommend Bob’s famous ‘hot spiced grog’, a delightful concoction of aged Royal Navy Rum, lapsang souchong tea, Bob’s Mom’s home-grown botanicals, jaggery, and crystallized ginger, served steaming in a pint-sized pewter mug! Bet you can’t drink just one!” – 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 play: “Love Song of the Bowery”, by Henry P. Shortfellow, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, with special guest stars Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.)   part 244

Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 242

Edited by Dan Leo, Associate Professor of 18th Century British Social Studies, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: The Murdered Houseguest, the Olney Community College Press.

Artwork personally supervised by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, computer-generated imaging and colorization by eddie el greco; lettering by roy dismas) for the penmarqoquality™ corporate entity.

to begin at the beginning, click here

for previous chapter, click here

On Thursday, May 1, I visited him in the evening along with young Mr. Burke.  He said, 'It is strange that there should be so little reading in the world, and so much writing. People in general do not willingly read, if they can have any thing else to amuse them. There must be an external impulse; emulation, or vanity, or avarice. The progress which the understanding makes through a book, has more pain than pleasure in it. Language is scanty, and inadequate to express the nice gradations and mixtures of our feelings. No man reads a book of science from pure inclination. The books that we do read with pleasure are light compositions, which contain a quick succession of events. However, I have this year read all Virgil through. I read a book of the Aeneid every night, so it was done in twelve nights, and I had great delight in it. The Georgicks did not give me so much pleasure, except the fourth book. The Eclogues I have almost all by heart. I do not think the story of the Aeneid interesting. I like the story of the Odyssey much better; and this not on account of the wonderful things which it contains; for there are wonderful things enough in the Aeneid;— the ships of the Trojans turned to sea-nymphs,— the tree at Polydorus's tomb dropping blood. The story of the Odyssey is interesting, as a great part of it is domestick.  'It has been said, there is pleasure in writing, particularly in writing verses. I allow you may have pleasure from writing, after it is over, if you have written well; but you don't go willingly to it again. I know when I have been writing verses, I have run my finger down the margin, to see how many I had made, and how few I had to make.' He seemed to be in a very placid humour, and although I have no note of the particulars of young Mr. Burke's conversation, it is but justice to mention in general, that it was such that Dr. Johnson said to me afterwards,  'He did very well indeed; I have a mind to tell his father.' I have no minute of any interview with Johnson till Thursday, May 15, when I find what follows:—  BOSWELL. 'I wish much to be in Parliament, Sir.'  JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, unless you come resolved to support any administration, you would be the worse for being in Parliament, because you would be obliged to live more expensively.'  BOSWELL. 'Perhaps, Sir, I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I never would sell my vote, and I should be vexed if things went wrong.'  JOHNSON. 'That's cant, Sir. It would not vex you more in the house, than in the gallery: publick affairs vex no man.'  BOSWELL. 'Have not they vexed yourself a little, Sir? Have not you been vexed by all the turbulence of this reign, and by that absurd vote of the House of Commons, "That the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished?"'  JOHNSON. 'Sir, I have never slept an hour less, nor eat an ounce less meat. I would have knocked the factious dogs on the head, to be sure; but I was not vexed.'  BOSWELL. 'I declare, Sir, upon my honour, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a pride in it; but it was, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither ate less, nor slept less.'  JOHNSON. 'My dear friend, clear your mind of cant. You may talk as other people do: you may say to a man, "Sir, I am your most humble servant." You are not his most humble servant. You may say, "These are bad times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to such times." You don't mind the times. You tell a man, "I am sorry you had such bad weather the last day of your journey, and were so much wet." You don't care six-pence whether he is wet or dry. You may talk in this manner; it is a mode of talking in Society; but don't think foolishly.' I talked of living in the country.  JOHNSON. 'Don't set up for what is called hospitality; it is a waste of time, and a waste of money; you are eaten up, and not the more respected for your liberality. If your house be like an inn, nobody cares for you. A man who stays a week with another, makes him a slave for a week.' BOSWELL. 'But there are people, Sir, who make their houses a home to their guests, and are themselves quite easy.'  JOHNSON. 'Then, Sir, home must be the same to the guests, and they need not come.' Here he discovered a notion common enough in persons not much accustomed to entertain company, that there must be a degree of elaborate attention, otherwise company will think themselves neglected; and such attention is no doubt very fatiguing.  He proceeded:  'I would not, however, be a stranger in my own county; I would visit my neighbours, and receive their visits; but I would not be in haste to return visits. If a gentleman comes to see me, I tell him he does me a great deal of honour. I do not go to see him perhaps for ten weeks; then we are very complaisant to each other. No, Sir, you will have much more influence by giving or lending money where it is wanted, than by hospitality.' (classix comix™ is brought to you by Bob’s Bowery Bar, conveniently located at the northwest corner of Bleecker and the Bowery: “Yes, the holiday season is finally over, and these are the cold grey days and icy black nights of winter that bring even the cheeriest soul to thoughts of what the bawdy bard called ‘self-slaughter’ – so, hey, why not do as old Horace does and give yourself a dose of cheer by stopping in at Bob’s Bowery Bar for a pick-me-up or two and some lively badinage, or, if you prefer to drink silently, staring into space, well, I assure you that no one will bother you, although loud mutterings under your breath might get you a warning or two from the bartender, ha ha.” – 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 play: “The Day after the Last Day of Christmas”, by Hector P. St. Odo, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, with special guest star Jack Carson as “Mr. Hamburger”.) part 243