Boswell’s Life of Johnson: 274

Edited by Dan Leo, Professor of Basic Remedial Writing Skills for Native English Speakers, Olney Community College; author of Bozzie and Dr. Sam: The Case of the Missing Balloon, the Olney Community College Press.

Art direction by rhoda penmarq (layout, pencils, inks, recycled crayons by eddie el greco; lettering by roy dismas); for penmarq qonsolidated™ productions.

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{Continuing with excerpts from Johnson’s letters to his friends in the last  summer and fall of his life. – Editor} To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS:—  Ashbourne, July 21. 'The tenderness with which I am treated by my friends, makes it reasonable to suppose that they are desirous to know the state of my health, and a desire so benevolent ought to be gratified. I came to Lichfield in two days without any painful fatigue, and on Monday came hither, where I purpose to stay: and try what air and regularity will effect. I cannot yet persuade myself that I have made much progress in recovery. My sleep is little, my breath is very much encumbered, and my legs are very weak. The water has encreased a little, but has again run off. The most distressing symptom is want of sleep.' Ashbourne, August 19. 'Having had since our separation, little to say that could please you or myself by saying, I have not been lavish of useless letters; but I flatter myself that you will partake of the pleasure with which I can now tell you that about a week ago, I felt suddenly a sensible remission of my asthma, and consequently a greater lightness of action and motion. Of this grateful alleviation I know not the cause, nor dare depend upon its continuance, but while it lasts I endeavour to enjoy it, and am desirous of communicating, while it lasts, my pleasure to my friends. Hitherto, dear Sir, I had written before the post, which stays in this town but a little while, brought me your letter. Mr. Davies seems to have represented my little tendency to recovery in terms too splendid. I am still restless, still weak, still watery, but the asthma is less oppressive. Poor Ramsay! {Allan Ramsay, “painter to his Majesty”, who died August 10. – Editor} On which side soever I turn, mortality presents its formidable frown. I left three old friends at Lichfield when I was last there, and now found them all dead. I no sooner lose sight of dear Allen, than I am told that I shall see him no more. That we must all die, we always knew; I wish I had sooner remembered it. Do not think me intrusive or importunate, if I now call, dear Sir, on you to remember it.' Sept. 2. 'I am glad that a little favour from the court has intercepted your furious purposes. {Reynolds had been appointed “painter to the King, replacing the deceased Ramsay; his “furious purposes” apparently refers to his intention to resign as President of the Academy had he not been offered the royal position. – Editor} I could not in any case have approved such publick violence of resentment, and should have considered any who encouraged it, as rather seeking sport for themselves, than honour for you. Resentment gratifies him who intended an injury, and pains him unjustly who did not intend it. But all this is now superfluous. I still continue by GOD'S mercy to mend. My breath is easier, my nights are quieter, and my legs are less in bulk, and stronger in use. I have, however, yet a great deal to overcome, before I can yet attain even an old man's health. Write, do write to me now and then; we are now old acquaintance, and perhaps few people have lived so much and so long together, with less cause of complaint on either side. The retrospection of this is very pleasant, and I hope we shall never think on each other with less kindness.' Sept. 9. 'I could not answer your letter before this day, because I went on the sixth to Chatsworth, and did not come back till the post was gone. Many words, I hope, are not necessary between you and me, to convince you what gratitude is excited in my heart, by the Chancellor's liberality and your kind offices. {Referring to the unsuccessful attempt by Johnson’s friends to obtain money from the King to send Johnson to Italy for the winter; however, it appears that the Chancellor never asked the King. – Editor} I did not indeed expect that what was asked by the Chancellor would have been refused, but since it has, we will not tell that any thing has been asked. I have enclosed a letter to the Chancellor which, when you have read it, you will be pleased to seal with a head, or other general seal, and convey it to him; had I sent it directly to him, I should have seemed to overlook the favour of your intervention. My last letter told you of my advance in health, which, I think, in the whole still continues. Of the hydropick tumour there is now very little appearance; the asthma is much less troublesome, and seems to remit something day after day. I do not despair of supporting an English winter. At Chatsworth, I met young Mr. Burke, who led me very commodiously into conversation with the Duke and Duchess. We had a very good morning. The dinner was publick.' {A “publick dinner” was one at a large country house to which any of the neighboring gentry might come without an invitation. – Editor} Sept. 18. 'I flattered myself that this week would have given me a letter from you, but none has come. Write to me now and then, but direct your next to Lichfield. I think, and I hope, am sure, that I still grow better; I have sometimes good nights; but am still in my legs weak, but so much mended, that I go to Lichfield in hope of being able to pay my visits on foot, for there are no coaches. I have three letters this day, all about the balloon, I could have been content with one. Do not write about the balloon, whatever else you may think proper to say.' October 2. 'I am always proud of your approbation, and therefore was much pleased that you liked my letter. When you copied it, you invaded the Chancellor's right rather than mine. The refusal I did not expect, but I had never thought much about it, for I doubted whether the Chancellor had so much tenderness for me as to ask. He, being keeper of the King's conscience, ought not to be supposed capable of an improper petition. All is not gold that glitters, as we have often been told; and the adage is verified in your place {referring to a recent lowering of the stipend for the King’s Painter, from £200 to £50 per annum – Editor} and my favour; but if what happens does not make us richer, we must bid it welcome, if it makes us wiser. I do not at present grow better, nor much worse; my hopes, however, are somewhat abated, and a very great loss is the loss of hope, but I struggle on as I can.' TO MR. JOHN NICHOLS:—  Lichfield, Oct. 20. 'When you were here, you were pleased, as I am told, to think my absence an inconvenience. I should certainly have been very glad to give so skilful a lover of antiquities any information about my native place, of which, however, I know not much, and have reason to believe that not much is known. Though I have not given you any amusement, I have received amusement from you. At Ashbourne, where I had very little company, I had the luck to borrow Mr. Bowyer's Life {Nichols’s Anecdotes of William Bowyer, Printer, published in 1782 – Editor}; a book so full of contemporary history, that a literary man must find some of his old friends. I thought that I could, now and then, have told you some hints worth your notice; and perhaps we may talk a life over. I hope we shall be much together; you must now be to me what you were before, and what dear Mr. Allen was, besides. He was taken unexpectedly away, but I think he was a very good man. I have made little progress in recovery. I am very weak, and very sleepless; but I live on and hope.' This various mass of correspondence, which I have thus brought together, is valuable, both as an addition to the store which the publick already has of Johnson's writings, and as exhibiting a genuine and noble specimen of vigour and vivacity of mind, which neither age nor sickness could impair or diminish. It may be observed, that his writing in every way, whether for the publick, or privately to his friends, was by fits and starts; for we see frequently, that many letters are written on the same day. When he had once overcome his aversion to begin, he was, I suppose, desirous to go on, in order to relieve his mind from the uneasy reflection of delaying what he ought to do. (classix comix™ is made possible in part through the continuing support of the Bob’s Bowery Bar foundation for the Arts & Crafts: “Well, finally we enter the last week of August, and I for one say good riddance! Bring on the cool weather, and if you’re stuck in town over the Labor Day weekend, why not join me at Bob’s Bowery Bar, where I will once again be hosting the Philip Morris Commander Telethon in aid of Brother Mike’s Soup Kitchen, broadcast live on the Dumont Television Network starting at 10pm {EST} Sunday night and running continuously until 4am Tuesday. Joining me will be my special co-hosts Bishop Fulton J, Sheen, the ‘stevedore philosopher’ Eric Hoffer, comedienne Phyllis Diller, and actor Angus Strongbow, with of course my good friend Mr. Tony Winston on the upright Steinway, and, as usual, we expect many surprise guests from the worlds of entertainment and culture both high and low! The bar will fill up early, so if I were you I’d run right over as soon as Dr. Blanche ends!” – 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: “Nobody Loves a Stale Fruitcake”, by Hilda Peters Smith, starring Kitty Carlisle as “Dr. Blanche”, with special guest star Johnny Ray.)   part 275