University of California • Berkeley LOVE'S LAST LABOUR NOT LOST. • r LOVE'S LAST LABOUR NOT LOST BY GEORGE DANIEL AUTHOR OF " MERRIE ENGLAND IN THE OLDEN TIME " DEMOCRITUS IN LONDON" ETC. ETC. »i ALDI LONDON BASIL MONTAGU PICKERING 196 PICCADILLY 1863 X CONTENTS Page I ECOLLECTIONS of CharlesLamb Samuel Johnfon .... 3a Old Father Chriftmas . . .63 The Loving Cup, and Horace Wal- pole . . . . . . .74 New Year's Eve 81 The Prefumed Difinterment of Milton . . 89 Moorfields in the Olden Time . . . .105 Dreams . . . . . . . 113 Recollections of Siddons and John Kemble . 118 What is Happinefs ? ..... 125 Uncle Timothy at Home . . . .130 Tom D'Urfey 142 Old Ballads 147 The Birthday 168 Robert Cruikfhank 173 May-Day 177 A Book of Fools ' 181 Truth and Error. An Epiftle to Eugenio . 187 817 vi Contents. Farewell! ..... Page . 206 " Non Omnis Moriar" . 22 1 To the Comet of July, 1861 . 2S9 The Silent Harp .... . 290 The Exile ..... • 2 95 Of this Edition Tivo Hundred and Fifty Copies only are printed. RECOLLECTIONS OF CHARLES LAMB. HAD long been promifed by Uncle Timothy fome perfonal recollections of Charles Lamb. It was he who firft introduced me to that original and eccentric genius. To remind a man oFhis promife naturally implies forgetfulnefs on his part, and as " Wits have fhort memories, and dunces none," I found it a delicate talk to jog Uncle Timothy's. Following the good old fafhion, I had for many years waited upon him with a birthday gift ; I therefore determined on the prefent anniverfary to watch a favourable opportunity of introducing the fubjecl:, and leave the reft to the chapter of ac- cidents. Having the entree of his ftudy, I entered it unceremonioufly. " Bah ! " faid he, " foolifh flutterers, what frightens you away?" And fure enough a numerous flight of birds fuddenly took B 2 Recollections of wing from his threfhold, and perched upon the furrounding trees. After paying him my congra- tulations and prefenting my offering, I inquired the meaning of this aerial phenomenon. " Receive," faid he, with a fmile of welcome, " my beft thanks for your token of kind remembrance, and let this (handing me a paper from his writing defk) anfwer your queftion, while I walk down my garden and whiffle back the wanderers." I took the manu- fcript and read as follows : — (C In my quiet garden-room Where I pafs my penfive hours, And enjoy the fweet perfume Wafted by my fragrant flow'rs, Penfioners from every fpray, Me their morning vifits pay. Timidly aloof they ftand, Till grown tamer, they at laft, Perching upon my open'd hand, Partake, with fongs, of my repaft — 'Tis then I learn from every bough How cheap, O Happinefs ! art thou. And as this feaft (too young to fly), Their unfledged neftlings cannot fhare, They to their leafy homes on high A little part rejoicing bear; Then this parental duty done, Again they foaring, feek the fun. Charles Lamb. 3 When winter chills the parting year, And falls the fnow, and roars the wind, My truants daily difappear ; The Robin only flays behind, And does his beft to make amends, Till fpring returns, for abfent friends. Will they return with fpring? How few! — By driving ftorm, and leaflefs tree, By bitter frolt, and damp night-dew, Full many a voice fhall filenced be ; And he who fpreads their feaft to-day May too, ere fpring, have paff 'd away." A nofegay of choice flowers was the graceful return that Uncle Timothy made for my pre- fent when he re-entered his " quiet garden-room." " I owe you, Sir," faid I, " an apology for my un- toward intrufion." u And I," he replied, " owe you a promife. The day is appropriate, and the hour propitious for its performance ; for fee ! every bough is alive with chorifters, and hark ! my fayings will be fet to mufic by their fongs ! " Then with a clear voice he read from his common-place book — RECOLLECTIONS OF CHARLES LAMB. It was in the Autumn of 18 17 that I firft became acquainted with Charles Lamb. He had then juft removed from his fmoke-blackened, difmal chambers in the Middle Temple, to light, airy, and conve- 4 Recollections of nient lodgings in Ruffell Street, Covent Garden, " delightfully fituated between two great theatres,'* and a fpot admirably fuited to one who would not exchange " London by Lamp-light for all the glories of Skiddaw and Helvellyn;" nor "No. 4, Inner Temple Lane by P##-light, for Melrofe by Moon- light!" Of a congenial tafte was his filter. Mary Lamb preferred the " full tide of human exiftence" that, from morning to night, ftreamed under her windows, and the inceffant rattling of coaches and carts, to rural fights and founds. Covent Garden, with its earlieft peas and afparagus, was more to her fancy than the gardens of old Alcinous ! Here Lamb had his fummer parlour for prints, and his winter parlour for books ; with everything, like Goodman Dogberry, "handfome" about him. His occafional rambles rarely extended beyond Finchley, on the north ; Dulwich College (for its pictures !), on the fouth ; and Turnham-green, on the weft. The eaft, with its narrow and tortuous carrefours, was unknown to him. He never explored Wapping, nor walked Whitechapel-ward. In thofe days the fylvan retreats of far-off Ponder's-End, Chefhunt, Enfield and Amwell had yet to be realized. After winding up a narrow pair of flairs (not unlike the " z'legant ladder" that led to the family crib of Col- man's Irifh cow-doctor, Mr. Looney Macwoulter), a vifitor, on entering a middle-fized front room, would dimly difcern, through tobacco fmoke that was making its way up the chimney and through the Charles Lamb. 5 key-holes, a noble head, worthy of Medufa, on which were fcattered a few grey curls among crifp ones of dark brown, and an expreffive, thoughtful fet of features inclining to the Hebrew call. This was mine holt. Around him at that witching time when " church- yards yawn," and fobriety in its foft bed is pall yawning, a band of brothers — who were under no cloud but that which proceeded from their pipes — fmoking " like limekilns," kept it up merrily. The locality generally induced the fubjecl:; hence the ftage, from " Gammer Gurtori's Needle" down (a painful defcent !) to the laft (Wardour Street !) Elizabethan drama, or uproarious, " fenfation," brimftone melo-drame that had received its critical " Goofe" at Covent Garden, or Old Drury, was the topic of difcuffion. Hazlitt, a pale-faced, fpare man with fharp, expreffive features and hollow, piercing eyes, would, after his earneft and fanciful fafhion, anatomife the character of Hamlet, and find in it certain points of refemblance to a peculiar clafs of mankind ; while Coleridge, the inverted monarch of other men's minds by right of fupreme ability, would as ftoutly contend that Hamlet was a conception unlike any other that had ever entered into the poetical heart or brain; adding, that Shakefpeare might poffibly have fat to himfelf for the portrait, and from his own idiofyncrafy borrowed fome of its fpiritual lights and fhades ; and the metaphyseal fubtlety and fuperior word-painting of Coleridge brought him off conqueror. Thofe who have heard 6 Recollections of Lamb defcant upon, and feen John Kemblea6lZ^r — and I, happily, have heard and feen both — have, in truth, a juft conception of the fublime. What Elia has written upon the heart-broken old King — touching as it is, and true — may not compare, for terrible intenfity, with what he has Jpoken. The flood of extemporaneous eloquence — his nerves braced to their utmoft tenfion — that he poured forth — for here his natural defecl: of fpeech gave way to the high-wrought infpiration of the moment — upon Lear's madnefs ; the flaming of his melancholy eye fparkling with fupernatural fire, the quivering of his fine poetical lips : *' A broken voice, and his whole function fuiting, With forms to his conceit;" befpoke a too mournful fympathy with that moll piteous of all human calamities, which induced thofe who were acquainted with his forrowful hiftory to divert him from a fubject fo perfonally exciting, and to lead him into flowery paths where fairies " Hop in our walks, and gambol in our eyes, And nod to us, and do us courtefies ; " paths in which he ever delighted to wander.* Nor were their endeavours unfuccefsful. He turned from tragedy to comedy with equal facility and grace. When the difcourfe grew tirefome, and fome loquacious Coryphaeus of common-place who * We have all of us, alas ! more or lels, our lunes and crazes. Charles Lamb. 7 had yet to learn filence in the probationary fchool of Pythagoras, and whofe imagination was too fcanty for his vocabulary, with felf-fatisfied effrontery, was monotonoufly mouthing, he would play the "logical contradictory," or " matter-of-Z?> man"* with fome grotefque locution, tranfparent folecifm or incon- gruous theory, to the delight of Talfourd (the pet of the bar for his frolickfome humour), who feconded his friend's audacity with the racielr. relifh ; while Hood, fad looking and lickly, whofe brain was a quiver of fharp jells, and who (as Lamb faid) carried two faces (a tragic one and a comic) under his name- fake, gave with a well-pickled and pointed pun com- mon-place his quietus. A plentiful fupper — for mine hoft, though a philofopher, had no tafte for Plato's diet, dates and cold water; or for nourifhing a friend " on diagrams, and filling his belly with the eaft wind," — would follow; — after which the goblets were refilled, the pipes re-fufed, and the talk renamed for another pleafant hour or two. The company then took their leave (Coleridge generally lingering lag-laft), bidding each other "goodnight;" while labour, returning to its daily toil, was grumbling "good morning" * Let it not be inferred from this and other fimilar plea- fantries that Charles Lamb, like the world, was " given to lying." He condemned " the heart unfworn, while the tongue is fworn,'' of Euripides, and would have refpected Chal- dean Abraham more if he had not fpoken falfely to fave himfelf and his wife at the Court of Pharaoh. Of the mean duplicity of Jacob he fpoke with forrow. 8 Recollections of Upon thefe occafions I was a filent fpeclator, having much to learn and little to impart, and that little would have been like fending coals to New- caftle, or owls to Athens. My fhare of the enter- tainment was therefore limited to a rubber at whift, or a quiet game at cribbage with lifter Mary. Seeing that the fiery draughts of a fiendifh fpring were re- ducing him to a trembling fhadow, it was with lively fadsfaction I learnt from his own lips that he was removing to a cottage at Iflington where certain intruders " that time hath worn into flovenry; ,, idlers who led an up-and-down, here-to-day and gone-to-morrow kind of exirtence, would not be likely to follow him. In this fuburban retreat — (" The houfe of Socrates," he faid, " though fmall, would hold all his friends, and this is quite big enough to hold all mine") — he was in the year 1823 comfortably fettled. The New River (now fomewhat si elderly") flowed in front of it, and a pretty garden in full bearing and in full bloom flou- rifhed in its rear, fupplying his dinner with vegeta- bles, his deffert with fruit, and his hearth with flowers. He took to the culture of plants, and now, having been honoured with his commands, I was, for the firft time, of fome ufe to him. He watched the growth of his tulips with the gufto of a veteran florift and became learned in all their gaudy varieties. He grew enamoured of anemones. He planted, pruned, and grafted ; and feldom walked abroad without a bouquet in his button-hole ! The Charles Lamb. 9 role, from its poetical aflbciation with Carew's ex- quifite fong, — " Afk me no more where Jove bellows, When June is pad, the fading rofe" — was his favourite flower. If the fifties of the New River knew him not, (cockney Pifcators with their penny rods had frightened even the minnows away!) the birds of the air did ; for they congregated upon his grafs-plot, perched upon his window-fills, neftled in the eaves of his houfe-top, refponded to his whittle, pecked up his plum-cake, and ferenaded him morning and evening with their fongs.* It became one of his amufements to watch their motions. " Com- mend me," he faid, " to the fparrows for what our friend Matthews calls in his * At home/ ' irregular appropriation.' I remember feeing a precocious Newgate-bird fnatch from the muckle-mouth of a plethoric prentice-boy a himng-hot flice of plum- pudding, and transfer it to his own, to the diverfion of the byftanders, who could not forbear laughing at the urchin's mendacious dexterity ; but this Height of hand feat is nothing to the celerity with which thefe feathered freebooters will make a tid-bit ex- change beaks." Seeing his growing fondnefs for birds, 1 offered him a beautiful bullfinch enfconced in a handfome cage. But he declined the prefent. " Every fong that it fung from its wiry prifon," * Buffbn, after defcribing the mufic of the robin-redbreaft, coldly obferves, " this little warbler is excellent roafted." io Recollections of faid he, " I could never flatter myfelf was meant for my ear; but rather a willful note to the paffing travellers of air that it were with them too ! This would make me felf-reproachful and fad. Yet I mould be loth to let the little captive fly, left, being unufed to liberty, it mould flutter itfelf to death, or ftarve." And with what cheerfulnefs and gratitude he boafted that, for the firft time in his life, he was the abfolute lord and mafter of a whole houfe ! — of an undifturbed and a well-condu&ed home ! I helped him to arrange his darling folios (Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben Jonfon, and Company !) in his plea- fant dining-room ; to hang in the beft light his por- traits of the poets, and his " Hogarths," (the latter in old-fafhioned ebony frames), in his newly-fur- nifhed drawing-room; and to adorn the mantel- pieces with his Chelfea china * fhepherds and fhep- herdeffes (family relics) which, like their owner, looked gayer and frefher for the change of air ! He lived abftemioufly, retired to reft at a reafonable hour (the midnight chimes had hitherto been to him more familiar mufic than the lark's), and rofe early. He took long fummer walks in the neighbouring fields, and returned with a gathering of wild flowers. "Every * " I attach a very peculiar value to the common articles of furniture, the mere pictures, and china, and books, and candle- fticks, &c. which I have feen grouped together in my infancy, and while my aunt frill keeps them, it feems to me as if my father's houfe were not quite broken up." — Dr. Arnold. Charles Lamb. it glimpfe of beauty," he faid, "was acceptable and precious to colour our pale lives." He lamented the encroachments of " horrid bricks and mortar" on the green fvvard, and it was during one of our rural rambles together that he extemporifed in profe, what I thus (to his cordially exprefTed contentment), turned and twilled into rhyme : — "Bricks and mortar! bricks and mortar! Cut your rambles rather fhorter, Give green fields a little quarter ! You, in your fuburban fallies, Turn our pleafant fields and valleys Into fqualid courts and alleys. All along our rural paffes Where tripp'd village lads and IafTes Not a Jingle blade of grafs is! Where I faw the dailies fpringing, Where I heard the blackbird finging, And the lark while heavenward winging, I behold a rookery frightful Which with tatters (tenants rightful !) Beggary fills from morn to night full. And befide their neighbour wizen For rogues I fee a palace rifen, And for poverty a prifon ! 12 Recollections of Bricks and mortar ! bricks and mortar ! Give green fields a little quarter ; As fworn foes to nature's beauty You've already done your duty !" "Merrie Iflington" was endeared to Charles Lamb by many tender recollections. Its rural walks, having been the fcenes of his early and tranfient courtfhip, ftill retained for him an inexpreffible charm, and he never recalled to memory thofe golden days of pure and perfect love without a paffionate emotion, a fympathetic thrill deepening into defpondency. It is better filently to endure a forrow which nobody feels but yourfelf; hence he feldom, and then re- luctantly, alluded to the fubject. He flrove indeed to forget it.* Yet great as had been his facrifice, great alfo had been his reward ; fince it had enabled him to devote a life of unceafing watchfulnefs and care to a filler who, but for his gentle and refined affection, would have been without a guardian and a comforter. f I have had many opportunities of friendly converfe with this gifted woman when her intellect was unclouded, and I have beheld her when that intellect was a ruin and memory was alive only to the horrors of the paft. I know but one parallel * " Life," faid Honore de Balzac, " would be impoflible Jans de grands oublis ? " -f- More hearts pine away in fecret anguifh for the want of kindnefs from thofe who mould be their comforter than from any other calamity in life. Charles Lamb. 13 cafe to this beautiful and affecting one — Pope's filial devotion to his mother — yes, one more — that of Cleobis and Bito who, as a reward for their filial piety, lay down in the temple, and fell afleep and died. Lamb, referring to his many domeftic trials, once remarked to me, "What a hard heart muft mine be thatthefe blows cannot break it!" Yet he might have remembered that when the darknefs is deepeft (midnight), the light is near. Unlike Coleridge, who had no fympathy with local affociations (the little fmoky parlour of the " Salutation and Cat," near Smithfield, where he, Jem White — the author of " FalftafFs Letters" — and Elia, in early life, had fpent fo many intellectual hours, he did not, in after years, care to be reminded of), Lamb venerated and vifited places known to traditionary fame. In the Autumn of 1823, after dining at Colebrooke Cottage with him and Robert Bloomfield, I accompanied the two poets to the cele- brated "Queen Elizabeth's Walk" at Stoke New- ington, which had become Lamb's favourite prome- nade in fummer, for its wild flowers, upon which he could never tread with indifference ; for its feclufion and its made. He would watch the fetting fun from the top of old Canonbury Tower, and fit contemplat- ing the ftarry heavens, (for he was a difciple of Plato, the great Apoftle of the Beautiful !) until the cold night air warned him to retire. He was hand and glove with Goodman Symes, the then tenant of this venerable Tower and a brother antiquary in a fmall 14 Recollections of way, who took pleafure in entertaining him in the oak-panelled chamber where Goldfmith wrote his " Traveller," and fupped on butter-milk ; pointing at the fame time to a frnall coloured portrait of Shakefpeare in a curiouily carved gilt frame, which Lamb would look at lovingly, and which, through the kindnefs of a late friend,* has fince become mine. He was never weary of toiling up and down the fteep, winding, narrow Hairs of this fuburban pile, and peeping into its fly corners and cupboards, as if he expected to difcover there fome hitherto hidden clue to its myfterious origin ! The ancient hoflelries of Iflington and its vicinity he alfo vifited. At the Old Queen's Head he puffed his pipe, and quaffed his ale out of the huge tankard prefented by a cer- tain feftivous Mailer Cranch, of a Bonifacial afpect and hue, to a former hoft, in the Old Oak Parlour where, according to tradition, Sir Walter Raleigh received full fouce in his face the humming contents of a jolly Black Jack from an affrighted clown who, feeing clouds of tobacco fmoke curling from the Knight's noflrils and mouth, thought he was all on fire ! It was here that he chanced to fall in with that obefe and burly figure of fun Theodore Hook, who came to take a laft look at this hiflorical relic before it was pulled down. Hookf accompanied * Richard Percival, Efq., banker, of Lombard Street, and Highbury. + We fcorn the grey head we mould revere when crowned with the cap and bells. What fays Shakefpeare ? " How ill white hairs become a fool and jefter." Charles Lamb. 15 him to Colebrooke Cottage which was hard by. During the evening Lamb (lightfome and liflbm) pro- pofed a race round the garden ; but Hook (a cochon a VangraiJJ'e, purfy and puffy, with a nofe as radi- ant as the red-hot poker in a pantomime, and whofe gait was like the hobblings of a fat goofe at- tempting to fly) declined theconteft, remarking that he could outrun nobody but l< the conftable." * In. the Sir Hugh Myddleton's Head " Etta " would often introduce his own, for there he would be fure to find, from its proximity to Sadler's Wells, fome play-going old crony with whom he could exchange a convivial " crack," and hear the celebrated Joe Grimaldi call for his "namefake" (a tumbler!) of "fweet and pretty" (rum punch!); challenging Boniface to bring it to a "rummer!" Many a gleeful hour has he fpent in this once rural hoftelrie (fince razed and rebuilt) in fumigation and fun. Though now a retired " country gentleman," luxu- riating in the Perfian's Paradife, " fomething to fee, and nothing to do," he occafionally enjoyed the amufements of the town. He had always been a great fight-feer (as early as 1802 he piloted the Wordfworths through Bartlemy Fair), and the But the jefter not unfrequently meets with his match, and thereby becomes difconcerted. For the buffoon can no more endure to be out-fooled, than Nero to be out-fiddled. * "Thy credit wary keep ; 'tis quickly gone $ Being got by many aclions $ loft by one." Randolph. 1 6 Recollections of ruling paflion ftill followed him to his Iflingtonian Tufculum. " One who patronifes," faid he, " as I do, St. Bartlemv, muft have a kindred inkling for my Lord Mayor's Show. They both poiTefs the charm of antiquity." Profanely fpeaking, I fear he rather preferred the Smithfield Saturnalia; not that he loved the curule chair and its Mayor, the men in armour, the city coach, the broad banners and broad faces, the turtle and venifon,* of London's corpora- tion lefs, but that he loved dwarfs, giants, penny- trumpets, poflure-mafters, and learned pigs more; to fay nothing of thofe favoury and fable attractions, the fried faufages (notambrofial fare!) and the little fweeps ! He had a quick ear, and a quick ftep for Punch and Judy, preluded by the eternal Pandean pipes and drum ; and it was not until Punch, with commendable ferocity, had perpetrated all his tradi- tional extravagances, and was left crowing and cac- chinating folus on the fcene, that he was to be coerced or coaxed away. Many a penny he has paid for a peep into a puppet-ihow, and after his final retire- ment to Edmonton in the Spring of 1833, he, in my company, revifited its fair in the September fol- lowing, and renewed old acquaintanceihip with the clowns and conjurers. This happy change of life and fcene, this moral funfhine — (he had vanquished evil by refilling it) — * The world of the Hindoos was founded, they fay, on a turtle. Qy. Is not a city alderman's too? Charles Lamb. 17 produced the beft effects upon his conftitution (fickly frames are the homes of fickly fancies) and mind. Thofe fpedtre-haunted day and night dreams, (ghaftly and grotefque !) that he fo fearfully defcribes, no longer diffracted him, and he loft that nervous irritability and reftleffnefs which at one time threatened to become a permanent difeafe. His eyes recovered their luftre, his ftep its firmnefs, his pulfe its regularity, and his appetite its tone. " I have the ftomach," faid he, " of a Heliogabalus and the gorge of a garreteer ! " He had not become a " fadder" — for he was as full of felicitous abfur- dities as ever — but a " wifer" man. All rejoiced at his rejuvenefcence. To his taciturn friend George Dyer, who had broken the fall and long Lent of his tongue and afked for eggs at the breakfafl-table, he excufed himfelf for not producing them, by gravely afferting there had been a "ftrike" amongfl the fowls, and that no more eggs would be laid for the prefent ; which that "good natured heathen"* as potently believed, as he did the fame romancer's confidentially-whifpered intelligence that the " Great Unknown" of the Waverley Novels was Lord * Elia took mifchievous pleafure in playing upon the credu- lity of George. He once difturbed his digeftion of a plentiful fupper of plump natives by infinuating that he might, unwit- tingly, have been guilty of cannibalifm, by fwallowing a two- legged idler or two ; feeing that the Scotch philofopher Lord Kaimes (his oracle and prophet) faid that men, by ina&ion, degenerate into oyfters ! C i8 Recollections of Caftlereagh ! As our friendfhip increafed (we had now become nearer neighbours) our difcourfe grew more confidential, and I learnt to my gratification, not to fay, furprife — for in the wild Tallies of his mirth many an unguarded expreffion hardly confident with the Pharifee's fuperficial fobriety had efcaped from him — that he was deeply impreffed with the fublime truths of religion; with the health, beauty, and joyoufnefs of the Chriftian faith ; and that in- tellectual piety added another charm to his character. I fay intellectual piety, becaufe much controverfy has been waited on its obvious meaning ; as if piety belonged only to the unlearned, and was not the refult both of reafon and revelation. That " pearl of days," the Sabbath, he kept holy. He loved the Temple where the Word of God was fpoken and His Praife was fung. He pronounced the Liturgy of the Church of England the moll: devout, com- prehenfive and glorious of heavenly inspirations ; often quoting the faying of George Herbert, " Give me the prayers of my Mother, the Church— there are none like hers." The gorgeous chant and pfalm, " the ornament of God's fervice, and a help to de- votion,"* and the exquifite Evening Hymn which he had lifped at his mother's feet in childhood, melted him to tears. The Hallelujah Chorus and its ftupendous "Amen!" — the Dead March in Saul, that marvellous infpiration ! — the great organ * Hooker. Charles Lamb. 19 roaring and pealing with a mighty utterance of found, the filver-clear young trebles ringing out, and the deep bafe refponding mournfully, were almoft too overpowering, in their incomparable cumula- tive grandeur and pathos, for his painfully fenfitive nerves. The beatific vifions that fuch mufic in- fpires can hardly be lefs fublime and thrilling than thofe which infpired it ! * He never ufed an oath, or profaned the Holy NAME.f He had no itereo- typed fanclimonious " God willings." The Divine permiffion was a well-underitood provifo in every engagement and promife that he made. With him " A witty iinner was the worft of fools ;" a fkull grinning at its own ghaftlinefs ! charnel- houfe joviality ! Singularly charitable in judging of others, he was not for fending to Dr. Fault's great patron all who differed from him in religious belief.J He fcorned * Our forefathers were fond of pfalmody. Bifhop Jewel, in a letter written in the reign of Elizabeth, fays, " There will be 6000 people all ringing together at Powle's Crofs." ■j- Other fins feem to afford pleafure or profit. " Were I an epicure," fays Herbert, " I could hate fwearing." J This he fometimes carried to excefs. He affected to be very angry with a friend for thus characterizing one of his (Elia's) quondam acquaintances. Not, he confeffed, for his want of truth, but of charity. "... the fycophant and fchemer, the democrat and dreamer, . the impudent blafphemer Of his God and his Redeemer." 20 Recollections of the economical caution of penny-wife philanthropy (hard cafli is ever deaf to pauper eloquence !) that fhuts its heart againft the flreet -beggar.* " Vive les gueuxf" If in mid-winter (poverty's mod pinching time) he buttoned up his furtout, he un- buttoned his pockets. " It is an accepted maxim," he would fay, " that twenty rogues had better efcape punifhment, rather than that one innocent man mould fufFer. I therefore hold that to be duped by a fcore of begging impoftors out of a few paltry pence is not half fo bad as denying one deferving applicant." He had a deep reverence for the grandeur of old age, and never refufed grey hairs. To the halt and the blind he was equally com- paffionate, and he pointed to a fine engraving of Belifarius (" Date obolum Belifario''''') that adorned his dining-room as his excufe. He lamented the cold, callous utilitarian tendencies of the day, and the grim cant of political economifts (" one-eyed men," as Dr. Arnold calls them), which he pro- nounced " all Malthus and Betty Martin, O ! " {Martineau). He denied their title to philofophers; for philanthropy and philofophy were never in- tended to be difunited, but to work together for the common good.f * " Who beg a mean fupport from door to door, And bear the worft of fcandals— to be poor," t The gigantic frauds (humorous eccentricities!) that have of late years been perpetrated — a " Bank " too often meaning a " Bubble,'' and a u Company'''' a " Confpiracy" — would almoft Charles Lamb. 21 His judgment was ever open to correction and his heart to tendernefs. Sorrow had tempered and given mildnefs to his character; while time, initead of contracting, had enlarged his exuberant bene- volence. His candour and generofity knew no juftify the punifhment (hanging) which, with grim humour, Ella propofed to inflict upon defaulters. " A man," he re- marked, " may be what in common parlance is called ( an honeft tradefman,' yet, morally fpeaking, a great rafcal, and 4 much a liar.' " In a par-boiled ftate between virtue and vice. And feeing how continually the "right" is facrificed to- the " expedient," he readily endorfed the faying of Auto- licus, " Faith is a fool, and honefty, his fworn brother, a veiy Ample gentleman." " There's fo much roguery running through All that Commercials fay and do, And Gammon and Mammon, by Jupiter Ammon, We can't tell whether the rogues lie in leather, (Tho' I guefs at the bottom of leather we've got 'em !) In Spelter, Felt, or Indigo Blue — Or where the deuce a fcrew is loofe, Or Who's Who in the Bill-rigging crew." With a myftical fhrug and a mortified mug Croaks Broadbrim the Quaker to Slyboots the Jew, As he counts the coft of lucre loft In Bills overdue that (Kite-flyers two !) I-iviJh-you-may-get-it on Do-' em- Brown drew, And Aldgate-Pump (one of the Rump !) endoifed in a lump — Orator Mum, doggedly dumb! Touched his nofe with his finger and thumb — Which Hebraic Hieroglyphic (Cautious, cute, and cunning Jew !) Terfely meant — retort terrific! ** Brother Broadbrim, more fool you !" ^uo, Benjamin Brosky. 22 Recollections of bounds, in confeffing an error and in repairing an injury. His refentments were quick and brief, and, the impulfe part, were fincerely repented of. Of fuch a character was his unhappy difference with Southey ; and the ready forgivenefs and unfailing affection of that faft and incomparable friend he never alluded to without a tremor and a tear. But there was a trinity of idiofyncrafies that he could never conquer. His hatred of injuftice, his con- tempt for purfe-pride, (the mounted mendicant!), and his impatience of fools. He was fcrupuloufly polite and delicate in his attentions to women whom, when intellectual and amiable, he regarded with chivalric devotion. His tafte inclined to penfive lovelinefs, rather than to ftately, luxuriant beauty. Luftrous eyes, to him, looked fweeteft in the foft and quiet made of a tran- quil brow. He avoided, with a gentle fhudder, the " Strong-minded Woman," [Hie Mulier!) and that twin-ogrefs Bonnel Thornton's voluminous "Mighty good fort of a Woman " with their lavifh expendi- ture of language ; regarding them as anything but " Angels in the houfe," and only fit to be yoked to a Yankee,* or a Yahoo prepared to undergo a mar- * A Dealer in "notions" and wooden nutmegs at Nafli- villej the Boniface of a liquor ftore at Cincinnati; a petty- fogging provincial Attorney who, living by fetting people by the ears, deferves to lofe his own ; a Rail-fplitter at New York ; or a Federal Shepherd who tells his black fheep to fight the Confederates till " hell freezes, and then to fight Charles Lamb. 23 tyrdom of marrowbones. At weddings, birth-days and chriflenings he was a focial charm. In a mixed company he was often difappointing; being taciturn when the talk took a founding braffy turn. But among chofen friends, — then his heart began to lighten ! then his thoughts began to brighten ! His youthful livelinefs returned, and his graceful fcholar- ihip, and wit, mellowed by wifdom, had their full play. " I can eafier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching," fays Portia in the " Merchant of Venice ;" which faying Elia would apply reproach- fully to himfelf after lecturing fome bibulous friend. What valuable leffons of commercial prudence did Sir Walter Scott wafte upon Terry touching accom- modation bills,* while he fufFered ' Aldiborantipbof- cophornioy and ' Rigdum Funnidos* to fly kites upon him in 'fheaves!' But Sir Walter, being in- capable of evil-doing himfelf, fufpetted it not in others. He was an honeft man who needed no other bond but his word, no other witnefs but his God. them on the ice ! " {qualifying for the Prefidency !) praifing ma- trimony, as men do good muftard, with tears in their eyes! " Semper habet lites, alterna jurgia le&us, In qua nupta jicet : minimum dormitur in ilia." Juvenal. * " There be two chief clafles of fools in the world," wrote the Roman philoibpher, " thofe, namely, who give advice, and thofe who refufe it." 24 Recollections of The tedious retailer of truifms— " Ex nihilo nihil fit" — would often fmart under the tartnefs of his raillery. I once heard him filence a phlegmatic matter-of-facl: man who was aping " Sir Oracle" as ridiculoufly as Chriltopher Sly playing the Lord, or Abon HafTan the Caliph, with the following ex- temporaneous efFufion : — " 'Tis true, quite true, That twice one 's two, That old 's not new, That black 's not blue, That grog 's not glue, That Sal 's not Sue, That you 're not me, and I 'm not you." Nor do I think the dunderpate (a weazened Panta- loon who never looked beyond his pipe) had the wit to be difconcerted. His mock Life of Lifton (" of all the lies I ever put off," he fays, " I value this the moil") and his letter to his friend Manning at Canton, giving a fabulous account of the deaths and burials of all their old co-mates ; of the mifhap to the Monument, the tumbling down of St. Paul's, and the exit of King Charles from Charing Crofs, may be cited as fair examples of Touchftone's "lie circumftantial." He had no tafte for " fenfation" poetry, crabbed crambo, "cackling fuftian;" the popularity of which was to him a Handing marvel. " I ficken," faid he, " on the modern rhodomon- Charles Lamb. 25 tade* and By romf/m." And in a letter to the Ouaker-Bard, Bernard Barton, he remarks, " I can no more underftand Shelley than you. His poetry is i thin Town with profit or delight/ " This very fenfible judgment is confirmed by Hazlitt, who aiTerts with truth, " Nobody was ever wifer or better for reading Shelley." He hated " fcrofulous French novels " varnilhing and gilding over vice, and would willingly have feen their authors indebted to the tar-brufh for their fuit of fables and to the feather-bed for their penal plumes. The heroes of the white cap and halter, the Dick Turpins and Company were his averfion, whether they figured away in a tranfpontine drama in the flamboyant flyle, or a drawing-room romance confecrated to the glorification of the highwayman and the burglar. Of Cowper he was an enthufiaftic admirer. " I would forgive a man," he fays, " for not enjoying Milton, but I would not call that man my friend who fhould be offended with the divine chitchat of Cowper." And he adds, "I do fo love him!" Sir Walter Scott was a great favourite with him, and he applauded the late Lord Ellefmere for declaring that he would gladly change his title and fortune to be the author of Waverley ; for which Croker {Tadpole!) called his lordfhip " a romantic fool!" * "What fignifies me hear if me no underftand?" fays Mungo in the " Padlock." Icarus, by flying too high, melted his waxen wings and fell into the fea. 26 Recollections of To the gangrened envy of contemporary critics * who, like a people mentioned by Rabelais, hear with their eyes and understand with their elbows, he owed fmall thanks. What was it to them, penny para- graph-mongers — two fteps above a fool, and a great many below a wife man — that in a book they were unjuftly abufing might lie the hopes, the heart and the fortune of its author? GifFord,f renowned for his editorial amenities, J and whofe iron foul was ironv, could find no better name for him than " Atheift," and " Maniac," and the garreteers of Grub Street, with vulturine nofes for fcenting car- rion, followed their leader in full cry. " Dulnefs," in vituperating the "Album Verfes," (the bee con- * As foon will flies forego their love of honey, or fharks decline their prey as thefe anonymous fhadows conquer their craving appetite for fcandal. Their philofophical coolnefs under correction is worthy of the libelling luminary of the Neiv York Herald, who, whenever he was fcourged for his abufe, took no further notice of the flagellation beyond pla- carding his office with this notice, " Third Edition. Coivhided again ! \ " Giffbrd," fays Wafhington Irving, " is a fmall, fhri- velled, deformed man of about 60, with fomething of a humped back, eyes that diverge, and a very large mouth. He is generally reclining on one of the fofas (in Murray's drawing-room), and fupporting himfelf by the cufhions, being very much debilitated. He is mild and courteous in his man- ners, without any of the petulance that you would be apt to ex- pect, and is quite Ample, unaffected and unafl'uming." X " Taije%-"vous, taifez-vous, petite!'''' faid Majendie, to a tortured hound that howled beneath his fcalpel in the vivi- fedlion hall. Charles Lamb. 27 verts to honey, the fpider to poifon) fent him an aflailant, which provoked the indignation of the ever-generous Southey, who came to the refcue of his old friend, and fpared not the "childifh treble" of the offender. Admired and beloved by a large circle of friends for his original genius, for his up- right, cordial, and fincere nature, he could well afford to forgive ; but I queflion if his forgivenefs extended to GifFord for mutilating his Review of Wordf- worth's " Excurfion," compofed in his happieft vein, and then palming the fpurious article, as a genuine one, on the " Quarterly.'' That he could be merry even under his own mifhap, we know — for when he found the malcontents perverfely bent on hhTing his farce of " Mr. H." off the ftage, he (unlike the mifer of Horace, who ufed to confole him- felf for the hiffes of the people by applauding himfelf at home) good humouredly joined in the hiffing too! Spring and Autumn were his favourite months. The geniality and beauty of the one brought with them verdure, hope, and joy ; the falling leaves, fading flowers, and hollow whittling winds of the other, were exquifite refponfes to his conftitutional melancholy. In thefe feafons I was often his com- panion in walks to Hornfey's ivy-mantled church, and vale ; fome times recreating ourfelves at the " CompaJJes" the pifcatory rendezvous of certain Waltonians who made that river-fide and rural hoftelrie their congenial houfe of call. Or, con- tinuing our ramble through healthy villages over- 28 Recollections of looking glorious landfcapes, and piclurefque cottages furrounded by garden ground, mounting ftiles and threading thickets, we would make the " Bald-faced Stag 1 * at Finchley (where good cheer and mode- rate charges invited the wayfarer) our halting-place for the day's refedlion. There a right favoury din- ner of pork chops (" Socrates," he faid, " loved wild boar, Sophocles truffles, and why mould not pig's meat be my gaftronomical vanity?"), and a temperate libation crowned our " Shoemaker's Holi- day? and the moon and liars lighted us to our homes. In the Spring of 1827 thefe cheerful days (which may be truly faid to have been among the happieft of his life), thefe pleafant wanderings, came to an end. Considerations for his lifter's declining health in- duced him, not without regret, to quit his favourite Colebrooke Cottage, and retire to " the fnuggeft, moll comfortable houfe" at Enfield, Chafe-Side. Here he anticipated " comfort." After giving the monotonous experiment a fair trial, and finding it completely fail, he relinquiihed houfekeeping (his domeftic goods and chattels having all " faded away under the auctioneer's hammer") and quietly "fettled down" (himfelf and lifter) " as poor board- ers and lodgers" with a refpeclable couple, next door; "the Baucis and Baucida of dull Enfield!" But the " fine old fea fongs," and the " one anec- dote" of his feptuagenarian hoft — with the occalional vifits of his friends, but ill repaid him for what Charles Lamb. 29 he had foregone. He became a prey to the maladie de langeur. The companionlefs fummer days were too long for him, as were the folitary winter nights. London,* " fhirtlefs ! bootlefs!" was the home he fighed for. In the Spring of 1833 ne finally re_ moved from Enfield to Church Street, Edmonton, the very drearieft and dulleft of all his domiciles, where he died in December, 1834. His melancholy accident and its fatal refult were unknown to me, until one dark and chilly day in December, when, anticipating (alas ! for the uncer- tainties of poor human nature) his wonted warm welcome, I reached his lodgings. The window- fhutters were clofed ! I flood hefitating ; afraid to knock at the door. The difmal, heart-breaking death-bell tolled heavily. Could its knell be for lifter Mary? A not unlikely furmife, for (he was ailing, and fome years his fenior. I croffed over to * This love of London had not prevented him from taking holiday trips to Cambridge, Haftings, and " Lutetia the Great," and vifiting Coleridge at Stowey and Kefwick. He had feen the fetting fun gilding the creft of the majertic Skiddaw : (his friend Leigh Hunt called a mountain " a huge im- poftor!") and the moon filvering the tranflucent waters of Windermere, with a vivid fenfe of their grandeur and beauty. But as in journeying he carried Fleet Street and the Strand with him as regularly as his portmanteau ; their gay mops, and exhibitions, like Mr. Simkin's " gripe and hickup," in the New. Bath Guide, were his companions, though much more pleafant ones, " wherever he went." " From Lands new found, new luxuries are whirl'd, And London is the Autumn of the world." 30 Recollections of the churchyard, and Hood befide an open and very deep grave. It was for Elia ! . . . Many furprifes and fhocks I have fuffered in my life ; but none fo fudden and fo fad as this. In a tedious licknefs and a lingering death, one noble faculty of mind and body pafles away after another, until the final extinction of both, and the long-delayed melancholy wreck is complete. "E/za" was mercifully fpared this flow agony ; for, without that awful fuddennefs which warns us to " die daily," his paffage through the dark valley was unprotradled and almoft painlefs. Such is the fleeting remem- brance of man. Have I wearied you? — To this queftion filence was my reply. Uncle Timothy fympathized with my emotion, and concluded with the following tribute to the memory of his friend : — " He fell afleep. He fank to reft Serenely on his Saviour's breaft; His Mailer's work, like David's, done ; His crown, like David's, nobly won! He fell afleep. To death refign'd, No anxious wifti he left behind, But that his friends fome happy day Might pafs, like him, in peace away. He fell afleep. He finds repofe In that green, filent fpot he chofe,* * " This fpot, about a fortnight before his death, he had Charles Lamb. 31 And many a penfive pilgrim there, In fond remembrance, breathes a prayer." I now accompanied Uncle Timothy in fome few- turns round his flower garden ; after which we retired to his library, where we fpent the remainder of the day. The theme on which he dwelt moll was the inexhauftible bounty of the Almighty. " How fublime," he faid, "is the idea" (pointing to the fun that was fetting upon what feemed a luftrous pillow of ruby and amethyft, fringed with burnifhed gold, and changing every inflant, but only to become more varied and intenfe), " that yon glorious orb, in its myilerious beauty, is the Gate of Heaven where the bleft fpirits of dear de- parted friends are waiting to welcome us. The immortal foul yearns for fome rock whereon to build its hope, and this is mine." ... In this high and happy mood I left him to enjoy that Eternal funfhine of the fpotlefs mind, Each prayer accepted, and each wifh refign'd." pointed out to his fifter, on an afternoon wintry walk, as the place where he wifhed to be buried." — Talfourd. a SAMUEL JOHNSON. N the volume juft ifTued (1857) of a new edition of the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," appears a Memoir of Dr. Johnfon, written by Mr. Macaulay, in fuch an elaborate fpirit of depreciation, and with fuch grofs caricature, that I am induced to refcue his memory from this injuftice. If the world would behold a lofty intellect in a low eftate ; independence of chara&er and integrity of principle that no temptation could compromife, no neceffiry overcome; felf-refpect proudly repelling fcorn, and endurance too haughty to complain; a heart that never conceived an untruth, and a tongue that never told one ; deep love and devotion to God, and great benevolence to man ; — if the world would behold a picture fo illuftrious, let it turn to the honourable and honoured life of Samuel Johnfon. With his noble features feamed and fcarred, and his herculean frame convulfed and fhaken by an hereditary and a cruel difeafe ; with a constitutional morbid melancholy that ever kept him trembling on Samuel Johnson. 33 the verge of infanity ; with a defective fight, an awkward addrefs, and miferably poor ; in thofe evil days when a Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail," were the fcholar's patrimony and the poet's reward, was Samuel Johnfon, at two-and-twenty, call upon this harfh world. As ufher of a grammar fchool, humble dependant in the houfe of a country gentleman, fchoolmafter of three fcholars, and bookfeller's hack (hunger is a low door through which how many a noble fpirit has been compelled to creep !), he pafTed the firft feven years of his literary life. It was not until 1738 that he became favourably known to the public as an author. The May of that aufpicious year for his future fame faw the publication of his " Lon- don." The fuccefs of this noble poem was inftan- taneous and complete. Pope warmly praifed it, and generoufly did his belt to ferve the obfcure author, but failed in the attempt. Still doomed to tafk. his over-wrought brain to keep the bailiffs from his perfon and the wolf from his door ; meanly lodged, poorly fed, and coarfely clad ; confcious of his great powers, and brooding over their niggardly reward, Johnfon paffed five more years of ill-requited mental toil. The death of the unhappy, felf-willed Richard Savage once more awakened him. They had been 34 Samuel Johnson. companions in mifery ; they had walked together the dark, deferted ftreets — " Misfortunes, like the owl, avoid the light, The fons of care are always fons of night," — hungry, houfelefs, and pennilefs; vowing, in their pauper-patriotifm, to "Hand by their country!" Though Savage was a profligate, and Johnfon the reverfe, the brilliant wit, engaging manners, and un- merited misfortunes of Savage had made Johnfon his friend. No wonder, then, that he mould remem- ber him with affection and regret. His "Life of Savage," though occafionally touch- ing with a too tender hand vices that deferve con- demnation, gloffing over others, and magnifying into virtues fmalladls of impulfive benevolence, is on the whole a ftriking picture of the man in whom right and wrong, good and evil, were fo fingularly com- bined. Jn 1749 he publifhed " The Vanity of Human Wifhes." In fonorous and {lately verfe the fatirifl fhows that nothing man can acquire here is worth his coveting ; fo fleeting is earthly happinefs, fo ephemeral is human fame ! Yet he leaves him not in defpair. His prophetic pen points heavenward, where " celeflial wifdom," her peace here and her reward hereafter, are only to be found. Sir Walter Scott declared that he never rofe from the perufal of thofe two grand poems, "London" and "The Samuel Johnson. 35 Vanity of Human Wifhes," without feeling his mind refrefhed and invigorated. The reprefentation of Irene at Drury Lane Thea- tre, under the management of his old pupil, David Garrick, foon followed. Its juft fentiments, beauti- ful imagery, and vigorous language, did not atone for its want of dramatic intereft and ftage effecl. It was written on too claflical a model to pleafe the million : — " Cold approbation gave the lingering bays ; For thofe who durft not cenfure, fcarce could praife." It was played nine nights to frigid audiences, and then withdrawn. It is the only work of Johnfon that ever brought him more money than fame. It produced him three hundred pounds. "The Rambler" was his next publication. By the judicious few its eloquent and heart-itirring lemons of virtue and wifdom, and its occafional flames of wit and humour, were greatly admired. In fimplicity, elegance, variety, and in that excjuifite faculty of portrait-painting, fo peculiar to Addifon, it falls fhort of " The Spedator." But in grandeur of expreffion, depth of thought, and fublimity, (always excepting the " Vifion of Mirza,") it far excels that celebrated work. In a letter from Eliza- beth Carter to Mifs Highmore, dated April 23, 1 752, in my poffemon, that moil learned and excellent 36 Samuel Johnson. lady fays : — " I extremely honour the juft indignation you exprefs at the cold reception which has been given by a flupid, trifling, ungrateful world to ' The Rambler.' You may conclude, by my calling names in this courageous manner, that I am as zealous in the caufe of this excellent paper as yourfelf. But we may both comfort ourfelves that an author who has employed the nobleft powers of genius and learn- ing, the ftrongeft force of understanding, the moll beautiful ornaments of eloquence in the fervice of virtue and religion, can never fink into oblivion, however he may be at prefent too little regarded." How glorioufly has this noble prophecy been ful- filled ! Johnfon, thanks to the unpatronized exertion of his powers, had eftablifhed a lafting reputation. His writings had given "ardour to virtue and confidence to truth." However highly public expectation had been raifed by his long-promifed Dictionary, it was more than realized when that marvel of refearch, learning, and induftry was given to the world. He was by univerfal acclamation placed at the head of lexicographers and critics. Lord Chefterfield might have been honoured with the dedication had he in the firft inftance condefcended to lend a helping hand to a man of genius ftruggling hard with adverfity. But this mock Maecenas neglected the golden oppor- tunity, and was indignantly fpurned when, pufF in hand, at the eleventh hour, he ftooped to propitiate the poor poet. Difappointed and difconcertcd, the Samuel Johnson. 37 fupercilious, profligate peer returned to his vanities, his pimp, his parafite, and his player.* " The Idler" appeared in 1758, and then "Raf- felas." A facred duty (he had loll his mother at the age of ninety, and had to pay the expenfe of her funeral) impelled him to write the latter. Never did the poet's function aflame a more fublime afpecl:, nor a holier purpofe awake his infpiration. What a paradife of good lpirits was his chamber! of minif- tering angels afliiting, encouraging, and crowning his labours ! Where was the imputed meannefs of po- verty at that auguft hour ? With fuch celeftial vilit- ants it was an ennobling privilege to be poor! Non omnis moriar ! Poverty had wrung from him " Lon- don," " The Vanity of Human Wifhes," and " The Rambler," and another bright emanation was about to appear, infpired by a nobler motive, filial piety ; and grief pure, chaflened and refined. Non omnis moriar ! Beyond the gates of death are the portals of immortality. * The following lines are written in the nrft volume of a copy of the Earl of Chelteriieid ? s Letters to his Son: — " Vile Stanhope — demons blufh to tell, In twice two hundred places, Has mown his fon the road to hell, Efcorted by the Graces ! But little did th' ungenerous lad Concern himfelf about them, For bafe, degenerate, meanly bad, He ineak'd to hell without them." 38 Samuel Johnson. Johnfon had now all but reached the fummit tC where fame's proud temple fhines afar.'' He had been honoured by his fovereign with an unexpected interview, and had received from him a compli- ment as graceful as it was juft. The Univerfity of Oxford prefented him with a Doctor's degree. The Royal Academy conferred upon him a ProfefTorfhip, and with the public he was the obferved of all ob- fervers ; not, as his caricaturifts fay, for the eccen- tricity of his perfonal appearance and manners, but for the fplendour of his talents and the dignity of his character. He, too, was the leading luminary of a literary club, that reckoned among its members Burke, Wyndham, Langton, Reynolds, Sir William Jones, Gibbon, Beauclerk, Goldfmith, and Garrick; where the " talk" might have rivalled thofe " wars of wit" that have made the " Mermaid,'' the " Fal- con," and the "Devil" (O, that Apollo room where Ben Jonfon prefided !) the taverns for all time; where, as Shakerly Marmion faid — " The boon Delphic god Drinks fack, and keeps his Bacchanalia, And has his incenfe, and his altars fmoking, And fpeaks m fparkling prophecies y" and in intellectual gladiatorfhip have compared with thofe "combats of the tongue" that have immortal- ized Will's and Button's. Such an ailociation of intellect:, where worldly diftinctions are unknown, where rank lays down its ftate, and genius forgets Samuel Johnson. 39 the inequalities of fortune, is a degree of human happinefs not often attained. Literature, that found Johnfon poor, had kept him fo. What owed he to the world that owed fo much to him? For "London," ten guineas; for "The Vanity of Human Wifhes," fifteen ; for the " Dic- tionary," fifteen hundred guineas; for "Irene," three hundred pounds ; for " Raffelas," one hundred pounds ; fome " large (?) fubfcriptions " for his pro- mifed edition of Shakefpeare ; a few pounds for the " Life of Savage ;" and for the "Rambler " as many (hillings as the publifher could afford him out of not quite one thoufand weekly twopences for two un- thankful years ; — fums that had but barely provided for the day that was palling! In the year 1762, his invaluable contributions to literature were tardily re- warded with a royal penfion of three hundred a-year. His long-delayed edition of Shakefpeare at length appeared, provoked, as it is good-naturedly faid, by the farcaftic queftion of Churchill — " He for fubfcribers baits his hook, And takes their cafh — but where* s the book?'' 1 It certainly "added nothing to the fame of his abili- ties and learning." The preface, however, is ample and luminous. It fays nearly all that can be faid of Shakefpeare. It is the rich mine whence fuc- ceeding editors have extracted their critical gold, and is one of the fineft fpecimens of profe writing in any language. 40 Samuel Johnson. A ftill brighter day was now dawning upon him. In 1765 began that celebrated friendfhip between the Thrales and Johnfon which continued uninter- rupted for a period of about fixteen years. This friendfhip opened to him an entirely new fcene, that fweeteft of focial amenities, an elegant, a hofpitable, and happy home. A liberal table, a handfome equipage, a well-felecled library, pure air, and the choiceft fociety, were now at his command. The advantages were reciprocal. The houfehold at Streat- ham acquired a literary celebrity by the prefence of Johnfon, and entertained a fucceffion of illuftrious guefts, drawn thither by the charms of his conver- fation, fuch as it had never feen before, and fuch as England is not likely foon to fee again. In the company of his kind friends, whofe chief ftudy was to anticipate his wants and wifhes, he made feveral pleafant provincial tours, and once he paid with them a vifit to Paris. It was during this green and funny interval of Johnfon's drudging, dreary life, that he produced his crowning work, the " Lives of the Poets." The curious anecdotes that he had treafured up in his memory, his extenfive and multifarious reading, the biographical and analytical turn of his mind, his love of comparative criticifm, and his profound know- ledge of human character, well qualified him for the arduous tafk. He undertook it readily, and per- formed it con amore. His time was his own. He had no pecuniary or domeftic anxieties. He was Samuel Johnson. 41 neither hurried nor harafled. " Eafy writing," faid Sheridan, " is deuced hard reading." Upon this work Johnfon bellowed his beft pains. He felecled every word (and always the right one) with critical care, and elaborated every fentence into force and clearnefs. I have good evidence of this, for the printer's proof-meets of the majority of the Lives, with many hundred corrections and additions in Johnfon's autograph (precious relics!), are now be- fore me. Among " flowers of all hues," it is diffi- cult to felect one of more grace and beauty than another. The ingenious and original analylis of Cowley, and the fine comparifon between Dryden and Pope, are among the very choiceft in the garland. The death of Thrale threw Johnfon back again on his folitude and refources. The wealthy, weak- minded widow began to look coldly upon him, and when he gently remonftrated, {he was petulant and perverfe. His rulty fuit of fober brown, black worfted or cotton ltockings, unbuttoned veit, ungar- tered hofe, unbuckled fhoes, and uncombed Gorgon wig (which me was in continual fear he would fet lire to when he lighted himfelf to bed), fuddenly became intolerable in her altered view of the philo- fopher. She had fallen in love with one Piozzi, her daughter's Italian mufic-mafter. This is the delicate dame whofe olfactory nerves fickened at the favoury aroma of roaft goofe (how feelingly did Johnfon rebuke her fine ladyfhip's affectation !) becaule it fcented the whole houfe ! and could yet endure the 42 Samuel Johnson. fulfome breath of a foreign fiddler, puffing into her too willing ear his amorous palaver ! " It fhakes the fides of fplenetic difdain" to fee the Fanfaron fup- planting the Philofopber. A chapter read from the Greek Teftament, and a valedictory prayer, during the delivery of which his great heart had well-nigh burft with emotion, folemnized his final leave-taking of the library, and he quitted his once happy home for ever. The miferably deluded woman married her mufi- cian, and fled from univerfal reproach to a more congenial clime, where fuch an act " That blurs the grace and blufh of modefty; Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rofe From the fair forehead of an innocent love,'' would pafs unreproved. Johnfon's journey to the Weftern Iflands of Scot- land, in the autumn of 1773, with Bofwell, pro- duced his book upon that fubjedr.. He defcribed accurately and vividly what he faw. Naked craggy rocks, watery waftes, black moors, boiling torrents pouring down the fleep fides of lofty hills, bogs, mifts, wild fcenery, and a people as wild ! He beheld beauty and refinement, partook of elegant hofpitality, joined in pleafant talk, and was wel- comed with national dances, mufic, and fongs, amidft mountain folitudes, beating billows, and the howling ftorm. He explored venerable abbeys that time had gently touched with a fublimer beauty ; Samuel Johnson. 43 flood reflective and fad before facred ruins charred and blackened by the fiery torch of the deftroyer ; vifited the lonely cemeteries of the ancient Scottifh kings; and mourned over the defecrated monu- ments of faints and warriors, marble altars ignomi- noufly thrown down, and chapels converted into cowhoufes ! He flept in a fine bed beneath which purled a miry puddle. He entered a cottage where a witch-like cauldron hung over a blazing peat fire, thick fmoke from which wreathed through a hole in the roof, and faw a Highland ogrefs, black as Lungs in The Alchemijl making ether, ftirring up the boiling broth ! He counted but few chimneys, and ftill fewer trees.* He defcribed not, as fertile, a patch of land where an ear of corn never 'ripened and a blade of grafs never grew ; he miftook not illiberal fe&arianifm and fhallow pedantry for re- ligion and learning ; nor an air profufely impreg- nated with phyfical abominations for the fragrance of orange groves. He approved not, for civility's fake, the murder of an archbifhop, nor the fale of a king ; nor did he palliate a bribe blackened by the fmoke of treafon. * There was a great natural foreft of pine trees on Speyfide, in the county of Elgin, which Aaron Hill (the dramatift) defcribes as the Golden Groves of Abernethy. This foreft was in 1728 leafed to an Engliih Company of which Hill was a director, with the intention of applying- the timber to the ufe of the navy. The Company fet to work vigoroufly, floated great crafts down the Spey to the fea, and managed to get 7000/. worth of timber out of poor, treelefs Scotland ! 44 Samuel Johnson. " I mould have died for fhame, To fee my king before his fubjects ftand, And at the bar hold up his royal hand." The travelling drefs of Johnfon during this jour- ney was a large, loofe horfeman's coat, with huge buttons ; high top boots, with long ftraps ; quickfet- hedge bufhy wig, that comb and brum had feldom difturbed, but now carefully dreffed and curled ; a low-crowned hat, with its broad fides turned up, and a club worthy of Caliban ! For writing this book he was abundantly abufed by a clique of dunces, in whofe intenfely national noftrils their " energetic and unfragrant city," as Sydney Smith calls " Modern Athens," fmelt like a bed of violets, '* ftealing and giving odour." Among the enlightened many who greatly ad- mired it was Lord Mansfield. As a pamphleteer Johnfon ranks comparatively low. His affluent and capacious mind Hooped with an awkward grace to vulgar politics. In its foul waters he inconfiderately took a plunge ; but " He bears no tokens of the fabler ftreams, And mounts far off among the fwans of Thames." He did not, like Burke, " To party give up what was meant for mankind." His fermons — cold, moral manuals, as the cant of pietifm would call them — may be read with Samuel Johnson. 45 inftruclion. He never hurled anathemas, he never blurted jefts at the Romifh Church. His own re- ligion whifpered its warning againft intolerance, and his heart taught him Chriftian charity. His trans- lations and fmaller poems are lively and elegant, and his prologues excellent. That celebrated one, fpoken by Garrick at the opening of Drury-lane Theatre, 1747, is, after Pope's fublime one to Cato, the fined in our language. " Haud imitatores jervum pecus /" Johnfon has a hofl of imitators, but none of them has caught even the manner, much lefs reached the matter of the mafter. Dinarbas, a fo-called continuation of RafTe]as(! !), is, perhaps, the moft refpe£table failure. It has the nodofities of the oak without its ftrength, the contortions of the fibyl without her infpiration. We may not penetrate the private chamber, and exhibit Johnfon in the folemn duty of adoration and prayer. His piety was paffionate and profound. His were the devout, humble breathings of a bro- ken and a contrite heart, alternately cheered by divine hope, and clouded and depreffed by the doubts and fears of a morbid melancholy. His prayer, on receiving the Holy Sacrament for the lafi time, which, in his own autograph, I am now looking upon with an emotion " too deep for tears," is tremuloufly written, and mows that his departure was nigh. His life had been a " long difeafe." Afthma and dropfy had greatly reduced him ; when, in June, 46 Samuel Johnson, 1783, a paralytic ftroke mattered his faft-Jinking frame, but left uninjured his mind. We know what Addifon faid of Swift's loft intellect; would not Johnfon's have been as melancholy a fpectacle ! A fouthern climate was recommended ; but how was the expenfe of travel to be provided for ? Lord Thurlow generoufly interfered to procure an addi- tion to his penfion ; and if that boon fhould be denied, he offered to fupply what might be wanted from his own purfe. The monarch and his minifters were not to be moved. The Penfion Lift groaned under the enormous weight of German pauperifm. His alarming fymptoms having fomewhat fubfided, Johnfon grew more compofed. He wrote an af- fecting and eloquent letter to Lord Thurlow, full of thanks, gratitude, and refignation. The time was now faft approaching when this great and good man was to pafs away from earth to heaven. His legs were too weak to fupport his weight, he breathed with difficulty, and his cough was incelfant. From a conftitutional malady, but more from a devout fenfe of his own unworthi- nefs, he had always contemplated death with terror. Even the Pfalmift could fay, " The fear of death is fallen upon me." It was, however, not the mercy of God that he doubted, but his own imperfect faith and works. Yet, when the long-dreaded hour at laft drew nigh, he addreffed his mind devoutly and fervently to the momentous queftion, how the fling of death could be blunted, and victorv fnatched from Samuel Johnson. 47 the grave. In the great doclrine of the Atonement he found a full deliverance from the terrors of mor- tality ; and he, who had grafped the wide circle of human knowledge with a giant's ftrength, and founded the depths and mallows of the human in- telledt, bowed reverently to the propitiatory facri- fice, as the rock of his falvation. His fetting fun, which clouds had obfcured,now fhone as the day-ftar; the Great Spirit benignantly fuftained him; and his death was as calm and as grand as that of Socrates, brightened with a higher hope. " Fear not : for I am thy God.'' Laudanum had been offered him to foothe his bodily pain, but he refufed it, defiring, as he faid, " to meet his Maker with his mind un- clouded." On the 13th of December, 1784, hav- ing completed his feventy-hTth year, he paffed to a happier world in a tranquil fleep. " "Jam tnori- turus" were the lall folemn words that faltered from his dying lips. He was followed to the grave by the choicer!: of his furviving friends. He fleeps among the illus- trious dead in Weftminfter Abbey. His majeftic ftatue keeps its ftate in the Cathedral of Saint Paul. Thus lived and thus died Samuel Johnfon. His death was felt to be a public calamity. Poetry contributed her elegies, learning the claffic epitaph, and biography memorials of his life. The fhock which vibrated throughout the diftinguifhed circle in which he fo long had moved was fevere indeed. "He has made a chafm," fays Burke, "which not 48 Samuel Johnson. only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a tendency to fill up. Johnfon is dead. Let us go to the next beft ; there is nobody — no man can be faid to put you in mind of Johnfon." His was a life of intellectual, moral, and religious ftrength and beauty. It (lands like a coloffal column the bafe of which is hard rock — folitary, marly, and imperifhable. But for Bofwell we mould know little about John- fon's perfonal appearance, manners, and converfation. Thanks to that faithful limner who portrayed his hero with fuch wondrous verifimilitude, and re- corded by the midnight lamp his eloquence during the paft day, for a portrait fo life-like and fpeaking. We fee Johnfon in his higheft mood and (" good old Homer fometimes nods ") in his loweil ; in his happieft and in his faddeft hours. We behold him haughty, dogmatical, contemptuous, and overbear- ing; but the true and bright fide of his character foon mines full upon us, and we love him for his focial virtues, convivial humour (lemon in hand, "Who's for Pooncb ?"), gracious condefcenfion, and melting charity. Subjected to the provoking intru- fion of purfe-proud ignorance and vulgar curiofity, can we wonder that he mould repulfe them with impatience, and fet them down without ceremony ? Even the painter himfelf (" impertinent mixture of bufy and idle !'') often meets with a rough rebuff. The fly that buzzed round Uncle Toby's nofe was not a more ingenious tormentor than Bozzy, when the fufly, fumy, officious, interrogatorial, and fid- Samuel Johnson. 49 getty fie came over him. Then would Johnfon brum him off, fometimes with a rod of birch, and fometimes with one of feathers. For twenty years he contributed, by his lively converfation and agree- able manners, to fmooth the rugged, downward path of the philoibpher's painful pilgrimage. He incurred the difpleafure of a morofe father for "going over Scotland with a brute"" (Johnfon!) and forfeited forenfic fame, fees, and connubial quietude — " To lofe no drop of that immortal man :" a faying of Garrick, in allufion to his own intenfe admiration of Shakefpeare. Johnfon held friendfhip facred. Savage, Collins, Goldfmith, Garrick, and the good Gilbert Walmef- ley, were dear to him ; and, in affectionate remem- brance, he has thrown garlands upon their tombs. And when his own laft hour came, Wyndham fmoothed his dying pillow, and cheered his depart- ing fpirit with the holieft confolations, while the mingled tears of Burke and Reynolds told how truly they loved him. When his old friend Davies, " the gentleman who dealt in books " (a term applied to him for his knowledge and good breeding), became bankrupt, the fympathy of Johnfon was awakened in his be- half. " We mull do fomething for poor Tom Davies," he urged upon thofe of his acquaintance who had known that worthy man in his profpe- rous days. And the appeal was readily refponded 50 Samuel Johnson. to. The open-hearted Sheridan gave "poor Tom Davies" a free benefit at Drury Lane, and others were not behind in their benevolence. It was no fmall merit to have Johnfon for a friend. Nor lefs facred was his humanity. Suffering had taught him to heal fuffering. His houfe afforded a home, and his frugal table furnifhed a meal for the afflidted, the friendlefs, and the poor. His unoften- tatious charity gathered round him a motley group of dependants, male and female, whom he lodged and fed, — his negro fervant, Frank, the blind virago Mrs. Williams, who in her frequent fits of paffion would drive him from her prefence, " Polly," Mrs. Defmoulins, and her daughter (fmall bits of gentility " tumbled into decay !"), and the aduft little Dodtor Levet. Levet, Mr. Macaulay, was no quack. He poffeffed " the power of art without the fhow." His humble practice was amongft the pooreft of the poor : — " In mifery's darkeft caverns known, His ufeful care was ever nigh, Where hopelefs anguifh pour'd his groan, And lonely want retired to die." Shall he then be pilloried in your page becaufe he " bled and dofed coal-heavers and hackney coach- men !" On one fad morning his accuftomed chair at the breakfaft-table was vacant. Johnfon inquired the caufe, and when told that the unaffuming and aged man had during the night paffed away in peace, Samuel Johnson. 51 he melted into tears ! Elegiac poetry can hardly furnifh, for fimple, homely pathos, a finer fpeci- men than Johnfon's Lament for his old and attached friend. His readinefs to affift misfortune is well known. He appealed to the fympathy of one Britifh audience in behalf of Milton's grand-daughter, then old and poor : and he propitiated another to reverfe an un- juft fentence on a play (The Word to the Wife), " Which public rage, Or right or wrong, once hooted from the ftage," that the author's widow might benefit thereby. He undertook the painful tafk of writing Dr. Dodd's petition to the King, and Mrs. Dodd's to the Queen for pardon ; and he compofed the fermon that the unhappy culprit preached to his fellow prifoners fhortly before his execution. As a perfect mafter of colloquial eloquence John- fon Hands unrivalled. Whatever the topic of dif- courfe, he treated it with fuch originality of thought, acutenefs, and felicity of illuftration, anticipating almoil every argument, and anfwering almoft every objection, that he left little to be added pro or con. When the facred truths of religion were the fubject, he was grave and reverent ; when philofophy and morals, he was luminous and profound. Cumber- land fays — " The pun that Burke encouraged, Johnfon fpurn'd." 52 Samuel Johnson. This is not true. We could point out more than one occafion when Johnfon perpetrated pun after pun to a party of ladies, among whom were two precife fpecimens of blue-ftockingfhip, Elizabeth Carter and Hannah More. His wit and humour, his vaft fund of anecdote, and extenfive knowledge of men and manners, made him highly entertaining. Sir John Hawkins fays, " He was a great contri- butor to the mirth of converfation, by the many witty fayings he uttered, and the many excellent (lo- ries which his memory had treafured up." Murphy adds his teftimony, " That with all his great powers of mind, wit and humour were his molt mining qualities;" and Mrs. Piozzi declared that "his vein of humour was rich and apparently inexhauftible." We have read of his retort courteous to " water- man's wit," and how he dumbfounded and filenced a fhrewim fifh-wife by faying, " Madam, you are a Ton D'apomeibomenos /" — the unknown character of the imputation not being in the vocabulary of Billingfgate. He would, but that rarely, even de- fend a fallacy, in order to fhow his powers of argu- mentation ; and when he preluded his reply with an " As to that, Sir," or fome fuch equivocal phrafe, Garrick, who was ever wickedly on the watch to catch his old mafter tripping, would laughingly ex- claim, " Now he is confidering which fide he fhall take !" It was no ordinary charm that, night after night, and year after year, attracted and detained, unwearied, the glorious galaxy of intellect that hung Samuel Johnson. » 53 upon his eloquence. Where was his imputed " fero- city," when rank, accomplishments, and feminine beauty fondly prefled round him to hear and trea- fure up in their memory every word of wit and wifdom that fell from his lips? They might, under the enchanter's fpell, have admired the fage ; but would they, could they, but for fome more endearing quality than eloquence, have loved, reverenced, and (as did the excellent Fanny Burney) mourned him as a father ? Johnfon's wife has been unmercifully caricatured by Mr. Macaulay. Garrick, who in his fchool-boy days had often taken a fly peep through the key-hole of her chamber door, was wont, in after years, to en- tertain {fub rofa) his laughing friends with ludicrous imitations of the "tumultuous and awkward fond- nefs" of the Doctor for his Dulcinea. But Percy, an unimpeachable authority, warns us that Garrick's account fhould be read with great abatement. Might not the " little mimic" (thefe are not our words, but Mr. Macaulay 's, for we love dearly dainty Davy !) who had grown rich " by repeating with grimaces and gesticulations what wifer men had written," — might not the " monkey-like impertinence of the pupil" (Macaulay again !) have exaggerated, for ftage efFefl, the picture ? Vain and plain as fhe was, with her face " painted half an inch thick" — with all her "provincial airs and graces" — this " filly, affected old woman," this " tawdry, painted grandmother," dreffed " in gaudy colours " (how gallantly Mr. 54 Samuel Johnson. Macaulay bethumps the poor old lady with hard names !) was his only folace through many long years of toil, ficknefs, and forrow. He fubmitted to her opinion, and was ever gratified with her praife. " After a few numbers of • The Rambler ' were publifhed, Dr. Johnfon mowed feveral of them to his wife, in whofe talle and judgment he had great confidence. ' I thought very well of you be- fore,' faid fhe, ' but I did not imagine you could have written anything equal to this." "Diftant praife," continues Bofwell, " from whatever quarter, is not fo delightful as that of a wife whom a man loves and efteems ; her approbation may be faid to come home to his bofom, and being fo near, its effect is moft feniible and permanent." If every dell in her cheek was to the Doctor a dimple — if in his opaque virion fhe was beautiful "as the Gun- nings, and witty as Lady Mary," what need of all this fcandal and fcurrility ? Her death deeply dif- treffed him ; for many years he remembered her in his prayers, and to the laft he never mentioned her name without a figh. How mealy-mouthed is Mr. Macaulay, when fpeaking of Addifon's wife, that haughty, heartlefs fhrew ! {/be was a lady of qua- lity !) How merciful to Queen Mary (" Curfed is Ihe that fetteth light by her father and mother"), " a fecond Tullia," as Madame de Sevigne juftly calls her, " who would boldly have driven over the body of her father;" and how complimentary to the Samuel Johnson. 55 demirep Elizabeth Villiers. But then one was the wife, and the other the miftrefs of his idol William of Naflau ! With the fame charitable pleafantry Mr. Macaulay expatiates upon Johnfon's infirmities. His cough- ings, gruntings, gefticulations, grimaces, blinkings, twitchings, mutterings, puffings, rollings, and invo- luntary ejaculations, are facetioufly fet forth ; and his violence of temper, frequent rudenefs, and occa- lional ferocity, flrange ftarts and ftrange growls, are chronicled with great gnfto and glee. He defcribes him as dreffing like a fcarecrow, and eating like a cormorant ; as tearing his meat like a tiger, and {wallowing his tea in oceans ; as gorging with fuch violence that his veins fwelled, and the moifture broke out on his forehead — adding that, " even to the laft end of his life, and even at the tables of the great, the light of food affected him as it affedls wild beafts and birds of prey." " His fchool-room re- fembled an ogre's den." Then the many hard fhifts that pinching poverty impofed upon his proud fpirit are pi&urefquely paraded. The dens in which he had generally lodged ; his pawning his beff. coat to enable him to dine on tripe at a cookfhop under ground, where he could wipe his hands, after the greafy meal, on the back of a Newfoundland dog — his love of a ftale hare and a meat pie made with rancid butter — his lixpenny worth of meat and a pennyworth of bread, at an alehoufe in Drury-lane 56 Samuel Johnson. — and his coarfe refections in fubterraneous beef- fhops, come trippingly off the tongue.* * The caricaturift himfelf was very far from being an Adonis. An impartial poetical friend defcribes him as " Little graced, With aught of manly beauty — fhort, obefe, Rough-featured, coarfe complexion, with lank hair, And fmall gray eyes .... his voice abrupt, Unmufical." Take his likenefs by an American limner; "a little man of fmall voice, affected utterance, and hifling like a ferpent." Tickler's portrait of "Tom" (fee the Nobles Ambrofiaruz) in reply to Chrijiopher North's queftion, "Is he like the papa?' is ftill more graphical. — " So I have heard. But I never faw the fenior, of whom fome poetical planter has fo unjuftifiably fung : — ' How fmooth, perfuafive, plaufible, and glib, From holy lips has dropped the precious fib.' The fon is an ugly, crofs-made, fplay-footed, fhapelefs little dumpling of a fellow, with a featurelefs face, too — except, indeed, a good expanfive forehead — fleek, puritanical, fandy hair, large glimmering eyes, and a mouth from ear to ear. He has a lifp and a burr, moreover, and fpeaks thickly and hufkily for feveral minutes before he gets into the fwing of his dif- courfe — what he fays is fubftantially, of courfe, mere fluff and nonfenfe ; but it is fo well-worded and fo volubly and forcibly delivered that you might hear a pin drop in the houfe.'' — Of the caricaturift's article on Byron in the Edinburgh, Chriftopher North fays, " In fact, it reads very like a paper in one of their early numbers ; much the fame fort of excellences; the fmart, rapid, popgun impertinence ; the brifk, airy, new-fet truifms, mingled with cold, Jl:alloiv, heartlejs Jophijlries ; the conceited phlegm, the affected abruptnefs, the unconfcious audacity of impudence, &c. &c." Samuel Johnson. 57 Johnfon, confeffedly, was fond of creature-com- forts. His appetite was great, but not grofs. He loved favoury tid-bits, and knew what fort of dimes mould compofe a dinner " to be afked to/' quite as well as the moll polite diner-out of the filver-fork fchool. Wilkes (with whom he all but refufed to lit down at Dilly the bookfeller's dinner-table) praclifed fo fuccefsfully upon this befetting fin, by affiduoufly helping him to every dainty, that he mollified and won over the philofopher. To the " fwelling veins," and the forehead " all glittering with ungodly dew," Johnfon, alas ! mull plead guilty. But the legend of the " tiger" and the " wild beails and birds of prey," &c. are mere phantafies pro- ceeding from the " heat-oppreffed brain" of Mr. T. Babington Macaulay. Johnfon (according to the fame candid biographer) had occasionally recourfe to blows. We know his extreme fenfitivenefs under infult. As early as 1738 he had proclaimed it to the world : — " Of all the griefs that harafs the diilrefs'd, Sure the moll bitter is a fcornful jell ; Fate never wounds more deep the generous heart, Than when a blockhead's infult points the dart." He felled with a huge folio the recreant Ofborne ; he gave a friendly hint to Sam Foote that a found drubbing awaited him if the faid Sam mould per- form his promife to the public by caricaturing him on the ftage; and he inverted a milling in the pur- 58 Samuel Johnson. chafe of a flout cudgel for the broad ihoulders of Macpherfon, fhould that impudent impoflor proceed (as he threatened) to perfonal violence. Garrick faid of Johnfon, when he produced his Dictionary (alluding to the French Academicians, who had produced theirs), — He has beat forty French, and he'll beat forty more, ft which, I prefume, is Mr. Macaulay's fole autho- rity for Johnfon's pugnacity. In criticifing the works of Johnfon, Mr. Macau- lay is ready with his cenfure and relu&ant with his praife. The Doftor was a " wretched etymologift." The "Life of Savage" "is deficient in eafe and variety. " The fall of Wolfey, in " The Vanity of Human Wifhes," " is feeble " when compared to that of Sejanus in Juvenal ; and in the concluding paiTage " the Chriftian moralift has fallen decidedly fhort of the fublimity of his Pagan model." He had not " the flighteft notion of what blank verfe mould be ; " hence his Irene is " five ads of mono- tonous declamation." "An allufion to his ' Ram- bler' or his * Idler* is not readily appreciated in literary circles. " The plan of " Raffelas" " might feem to invite fevere criticifm." It is full of ana- chronifms, and its fame " has grown fomewhat dim." Than his " Shakefpeare" " it would be dif- ficult to name a more flovenly or more worthlefs edition of any great clafTic." The preface " is not Samuel Johnson. 59 in his beft manner." In fpeaking of Johnfon's criti- cifms in the " Lives of the Poets," " the brilliant eflayift" and the "great hiftorian,"* accidentally Humbles on a truth. Johnfon's " very woril judg- ments," he fays, " mean fomething, a praife to which much of what is called criticifm in our time has no pretentions." How fuch a grotefque vifitor as Johnfon would have been received at Holland Houfe in its palmy days is a queftion. The " moft admired diforder" of his wig would have exhibited a ludicrous con- trail to the well-curled Brutus of the Bard of Hope, and his broad brown Hurts, black ftockings, and canoes of flioes, would have made the fmart coat, filk hofe, and polifhed patent pumps of Tom Little's dapper little editor "Hick fiery off indeed !" The fweet finger of " Memory" would have cor- dially welcomed him, wig and all ; for in his early days he had knocked at the door of the fage in order to get a fight of him, but ran away, lacking courage to face the " bear in his den." Mine * A French hiftorian once wrote an elaborate treatife to prove that Ireland was colonifed by the Phoenicians. On the eve of publication fome "good-natured friend " haftened to inform him that facts had been recently difcovered which entirely overturned his Phoenician theory. Monfieur, with a fhrug, cooly remarked, u The hiftory is written, fo much the worfe for the fadls." The " great hiftorian " had evidently taken a leaf out of the Frenchman's book in the cafe of William Penn, &c. &c. &c. 60 Samuel Johnson. hoftefs might have juft endured him, and mine hoft good-naturedly invited him to ftay all night. In which cafe, having perhaps occafion to write to " Polly," he might have dated his epiftle from " Holland Houfe," as Mr. Macaulay (when he dined and flept at the palace of his Sovereign) addreifed an electioneering miffive to his Scotch conftituents from " Windfor Caftle!"* With Mr. Macaulay " the lines have fallen in pleafant places." Patronage and party-politics (" Party -fpirit," fays Johnfon, "never left a man honeft, however it might find him") have filled his pockets to repletion. Liberality has been lavifhed upon the " Liberal." " Let thofe laugh that win" — Mr. Macaulay may therefore anticipate a whole life- time of laughter. He did not, like Johnfon, come up to London with only " threepence halfpenny" in his pocket. He was not quizzed at college "for the holes in his fhoes," or laughed at for his tattered gown and dirty linen. He never figned " Impran- fus," "gorged in alamode beef fhops," or "pufFed and blowed over a tripe dinner, greedily gobbled up." He was never carried to fponging-houfes, and never had his plate of meat brought to him behind a fcreen, becaufe his clothes were too fhabby to en- title him to fit at the fame table with a purfe-proud * For a fevere comment on this piece of parvenu preemp- tion and impertinence, read " The Times,'"'' and other newfpapers of the day. Samuel Johnson. 6i publifher and his prouder patron. Too much prof- peri ty has, I fear, "been the fpoil" of Mr. Macau- lay. It would feem to have deadened his fympathies, I hope it has not hardened his heart. Having held upjohnfon and his infirmities to the gaze of fools, and tried his works by the ftandard of hypercriti- cifm, he concludes his Orange memoir by pro- nouncing him (how provokingly patronizing!) " both a great and a good man." Could the truculent Kenrick, the (Mr. Macaulay's own phrafe) " Pole-cat Williams," the atheiftical Soame Jenyngs, whom Johnfon fo feverely lafhed for his prelumptuous and ftupid " Inquiry into the Origin and Nature of Evil,' 1 the profane Peter Pin- dar, and the '* malevolent" Parfon Tooke (all his libellers), have produced anything more unfeeling and ofFenfive than Mr. Macaulay's unfeemly, and loofe-tongued levity ? Pictured on our walls and preferved in our port- folios, the familiar "true effigie" of Johnfon Hill fondly lives among us. His works are the ftaple of every well-fele£ted library, and bring inftruclion and delight to our thoughtful hours. Every fcrap of paper with his autograph, every book from his «' garret," are treafured up as valued relics in public mufeums and in private cabinets. The very hair purloined by the " broom gentleman" from his old hearth-broom becomes a prize ! The walks that he frequented and the houfes in which he dwelt are flill pointed out to the curious inquirer. The old Lime 62 Samuel Johnson. Tree (« Dr. Jobnfon's Tree") in New-ftreet, Shoe- lane (recently expofed to public view by the pulling down of the houfe where he ufed to vifit Mr. Stra- chan), has been an attraction to thoufands even in the prefent day ; for under its once pleafant (hade, in the garden of his friend, the fage fat and thought. In every home enlightened by literature, dignified by virtue, and fandtified by religion, his name is cherifhed as a houfehold word. St. John's venerable gate fhall endure when its laft crumbling Hone lies level with the ground, and Sylvanus Urban, who for more than a century has entirely lived upon his fame, fhall, embalmed by his memory, never die. Johnfon was deeply impreffed with this important truth, that where much has been given much will be required. Of the Eternal nothing is independent. Genius is but a divine emanation benignantly vouch- fafed to man, for the proper ufe of which he is awfully refponfible. At that retributive tribunal, before which the loftieft and the lowliefl intellect muft one day appear, the refults even of Johnfon's genius may be found to have fallen fhort of the divine requirement. From this high argument we retreat with humility. Johnfon has written enough for the inftrudtion of mankind, and if mankind re- main unimproved, it is not becaufe the mafter has failed to employ his " talent," but that the foil in which dropped its immortal feed was thanklefs and barren. OLD FATHER CHRISTMAS. HAT a world would this be of dreary famenefs, and vacuous ennui if the utilitarian and the mammonite had it all their own way ! No enter- taining diverfity of character, no public rejoicings, no cordial gatherings of kin and friends, no pan- cakes, no hot-crofs-buns, no twelfth-cakes, no Chriftmas holidays, no Chriftmas-boxes, no fnap- dragon, no fack-pofTet, no goofeberry-fool ! Where would be the Lady Bountiful at whofe table the rich tailed of her hofpitality, and at whofe gate the poor of her charity ? As yet fuch foes to good- fellowfhip are not lords paramount, and if man- kind value their own happinefs, they never will be. Long may they be left to the barren luxury of carping, fullen difcontent, and leave charity and gratitude to meet together and make hands. Abou Ben Adham prayed to be remembered as one who had loved his fellow men, and who, for that caufe alone, was regiftered by his Angel-vifitant as the firft among thofe who had loved their God. 64 Old Father Christmas. Chriftmas has for many centuries been kept as a national feftival in Merrie England. Pomp and pageantry, fong, dance, minftrelfy, and high feafting hailed and crowned its advent ! All hearts were touched at this facred feafon, — " That to the Cottage, as the Crown, Brought tidings of Salvation down." In the palace of Queen Elizabeth, Chriftmas was kept right royally. Plays were a&ed by the " Chil- dren of Her Majefty's Chapel," and magnificent mafques performed by high-born ladies and lords of the court (the Queen herfelf not unfrequently taking a part in them) in honour of the feafon. Her fucceffor King James was no lefs partial to thefe ftately entertainments ; employing Ben Jonfon and Thomas Dekker to furnifh the libretto, and Inigo Jones the fplendid dreffes and decorations. The martyred Charles — whom the Scotch fold to the Englifh as the Praetorian Guards fold the Roman Empire to the Senator Didius, for fo much hard cafh — inherited the fame intellectual and elegant taftes, improved by his exquilite appreciation of literature and the fine arts. He too kept merry Chriftmas, until treafon (rebellious liberty, and democratical tyranny!) found him fterner work to do. In the caftle of the feudal Baron the Lord of Mifrule, the Friar (the jollieft of Capellani !), and the Fool, with Maid Marian, and Robin Hood, led the brawl; the hobby-horfe frifking, curvetting, Old Father Christmas. 65 and figuring in. The head of the *' briftled boar," with a pippin between his tufks, garnifhed with fweet rofemary, and repofing on a filver charger, was borne with due folemnity to its place of honour in the College Hall, followed by the capacious waf- fail bowl decked with gay ribbons. The bearer of this porcine pericranium (a perfonage of gigantic proportions) was dreffed in a fcarf of Lincoln green, while an empty fcabbard (the naked fword belonging to which, red with the gore of the boar, was flou- rifhed by a huntfman) dangled at his fide. An avant courier carrying a fpear, and two pages in "tafatye farcenet," each with "a mefs of muftard," completed the mufter-roll. A carol then welcomed the company to their banquet, canakins clinked, and beards wagged all merrily. In the hofpitable manfion of the country gentle- man Chriftmas was a joyous feftival. What barrels of ftrong beer were broached, and imbibed ! What hecatombs of beef, larded capons, geefe, turkies, chine, minced-pies, yule-doughs, and hackins (the ancient apology for plum-pudding), were piled upon the board ! What black-jacks of neclarian juice, hot with fpice and hiffing with a roafted crab, went round! At thefe flefh-pot victories the cook was " fole Monarch of the Marrow-bones, Duke of the Dripping-pan, Marquis of the Mutton, Lord High Regent of the Spit and Kettle, Baron of the Grid- iron, and Commander of the Frying-pan ! " At the dawn of day alms were diftributed at the Squire's F 66 Old Father Christmas. gate to the poor ; * his tenants and neighbours en- tered the great hall, adorned with the fpoils of the chafe, and hung round with the arbutus, the holly, and the miflletoe ; while a long fucceffion of an- ceflral Nimrods looked down approvingly from their quaintly-carved oak frames upon the hilarious fcene. The chance wayfarer, and the homelefs vagrant par- took of the plentiful cheer on that jubilant day. In the country dance and junketing jig mailer and maid, miflrefs and man (merry contrails to our modern Terpfichorean automatons and their monkey divertifements !) mingled with hearty good -will, exchanging bland and fimple courtefies. The pri- vileged gleeman flruck his wild harp and tuned his flexible voice to legendary lays of war and chivalry, and fongs of love, and the nightingales of obfcure hollelries, to whom the ftocks and the whipping- poll were not unfamiliar, intoned their doggrel to the excruciating fqueak of a cracked fiddle with impunity in this joyous feafon of a general amnefly. The robin-red breafl, tamed by the aufterity of win- ter, fought the abode of man. Perched on the window-fill, it looked out with its keen eye for * " Before the Reformation," writes John Aubrey, in the curious Common-place Book preferved at Oxford, " there were no poor rates, for the charitable doles given at religious houfes, and church-ale in every parifh did the bufinefs. In every parifli there was a church-houfe to which belonged fpits crocks, Sec. for dreffing provifion. Here the houfekeepers met and were merry, and after dinner gave their charity." Old Father Christmas. 67 fome fweet token (a plum, or an almond) of kind remembrance, and chirped its thanks ! Even the criminal in his folitary cell was reminded of Chrift- mas, by receiving fome gracious memento in miti- gation of his mifery. With general fociety Chriftmas was a patriarchal inftitution — a feafon of re-unions. Relations, widely difperfed during the year, met again at the family table. Old friendships were ftrengthened, new ones formed, and congratulation and fympathy were the order of the day. Had coldnefs, or neglect, caprice, or paffion, jarring interefts, or falfe pride loofened, or fevered the facred ties of duty and affection ? At this glad feafon rivalries and enmities were forgotten and forgiven. Chriftmas was efpecially the peafant's jubilee. From the rich man's plentiful larder his own fpare board was liberally fupplied, and the loving cup was brimmed by the bounty of his benefactor. The glowing embers, hiffing and crackling, made merry mufic in the ingle ; the rofy cheeks of his buxom and bonny wife, and of his chubby children bright- ening in the blaze. In the gratitude of his joyful heart he forgot his low eftate ; for poverty when cheerful ceafes to be poverty. What cared he for the cold and barrennefs without, when all was warm, abundant, and infpiriting within ? The loud blaft of the " bluftering railer" was drowned in the ftill louder laugh provoked by fome tale, or jeft tradi- tion, and the "Widow Toye" (courteous dame!) 68 Old Father Christmas. had handed down, or a "doleful dittie full of plea- fant mirth and paftime" from the printing-prefs of Pynfon and the pedlar's pack of Autolicus ! How did thefe " trol-my-dames" make the rafters of his cottage rattle and ring again ! If the fair flowers that adorned his little garden in fummer flept in their caufes until the return of that lovely feafon fhould awaken them to frefh bloom ; the holly, with its bright red berries, and the miftletoe with every graceful pendant and pearly drop bearing a love- charm, feftooned his walls; flourifhing beft, like charity, when all is cold and comfortlefs without. In the remote villages of England it was the cuftom at Chriftmas, "when the men and maids had ended their gambols, and bed-time was coming," for the goflips to afiemble round about the coal fire, and tell ftrange {lories of hobgoblins and witches. How the candles burned blue, the chairs danced round the room, and a fheeted ghoft, with a lighted taper in one hand, and a blood-red dagger in the other, (talked in, and rolling his faucer-eyes, and clanking his heavy chains, cried vengeance ! The horrors of Lord Bateman's fupernatural ballad, and Dr.Glanvil's terrifying tomes were frightfully realized by thefe fuperftitious crones. Fairies alfo were a favourite Chriftmas difh, and few were the grand- mothers who had not feen thefe " little, little crea- tures no bigger than one's thumb," dancing in rings " where mufhrooms grow," and under the moon's pale difc having a friik to fweet mufic from the Old Father Christmas. 69 gnat, the grasfhopper, or the fly ! And when the moon was down, and the dance was done, the fame indubitable authorities had beheld the tiny Terpfi- chores lighted to bed by the glowworm ! Waits and carols at Chriilmas are almofl coeval with Chriilianity, and doubtlefs owe their origin to that beautiful tradition mentioned in Hamlet : — " Some fay, that ever 'gainft that feafon comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning fingeth all night long; So hallow'd and fo gracious is the time." The earliefl Carol known is the celebrated Oxford one, printed by Wy nkyn de Worde, in 1 5 2 1 , and fung by the Tabarder and the members in the refectory of Queen's College, at Chriilmas. It is an apo- theofis to the Boar's Head, and highly bacchanalian. " Chriftmas Carolles ; newly imprinted at London in the Powltry, by Richard Kele, dwellyng at the longe Jhop under faynt Myldredes church;" a duodecimo volume of twenty-four leaves, rarijjtmus / was in the library of Sir Francis Freeling. Its contents are of a motley character — feilive, fcriptural, free, and not unfrequently bordering on the profane. In a " Dialogue between Cuftom and Veritie, con- cerning the ufe and abufe of Dauncing and Minjlrel- jie" a Poem by Thomas Lovell, " imprynted at the long Jhop adjoining unto Saint Mildred's Church in the Pultrie, by John Aide" no date ;— " Cuflom " defends Minllrelfy and Dancing at all feafons, and 70 Old Father Christmas. thinks it very hard that " Veritie" forbids them at Chriftmas ; obferving, — " Chriftmas is a merry time Good mirth therefore to make, Young men and maids together may Their legs in daunces make. We fee, it with fome gentlemen A cuftom ufed to be At that time to provide to have Some pleafant minftrelfie." In " An Halfe-pennyworth of Wit on a Penny worth of Paper, &c." by Humphrey King, 1613, is the following curious notice of Robin Hood, May- games, Milkmaids, and Tarleton the Jefter, &c : — "Let us talk of Robin Hoode And Little John in merry Shirwood. Of Poet Skelton with his pen, And many other Merry Men. ■■ Of May-game Lords and Sommer Queenes With Milke-Maides dancing o're the Greenes, Of merry Tarlton in our time, Whofe conceite was very fine, Whom death hath wounded with his dart, That lov'd a May-pole with all his heart." Herrick, in his " Hefperides" lamented the de- cline of old Englifh hofpitality. In 1678, Poor Robin (fee his " Hue and Cry after Good Houfe- Old Father Christmas. 71 keeping") puts in a plea for Chriftmas ; the negledl of which he imputes to the prevailing pride of drefs ! " Your tradefmen in the Exchange, the mercer, filk- weaver, tailor, perriwig-maker, and feather-maker, having fuperfeded the butcher, cook, poulterer, filh- wife, and butler, " good cheer is grown out of fafhion, and Chriftmas is only to be found by " red letters in Almanacks.'' In the palmy days of the venerable Father, " the fquire wore no other fhirts but of the flax that grew on his own ground, and of his wife's, daughters', or fervants' fpinning ; and his ftockings, hofe, and jerkin were of the wool fheared from his own fheep." No wonder then that this primitive fquire could maintain a fcore or two of farm fer- vants, relieve twice that number of poor people at his gate, and when Chriftmas came, invite his friends to a plentiful dinner. Then fine clothes were only for "Kings and Courtiers ;'* but now it would make " a horfe break his crupper with laughing to fee Joan Fiddle Faddle, whofe portion amounts to two groats and two pence, decked up with ribbons and flowers as fine as a Bartholomew Baby !" Twenty or thirty proper ferving men were epitomifed to a butterfly-page and a trotting footman ; the cook was out of commiflion, and the lean hind's lenten dinner was " two fprats and a half." Cards and dice had much to do with all this. The geefe that ufed to be fattened for honeft neighbours have been fent to London for fale, and their quills cut into pens to convey away the landlord's eftate. His fheep, too, 72 Old Father Christmas. had found a buyer, and their fkins had been con- verted into parchment for deeds and indentures! What fays Cowper on this fubjccT: ? "We facrifice to drefs, till houfehold joys And comforts ceafe. Drefs drains our cellars dry And keeps our larders lean." The year 1678 was appointed for "The Trial of Old Father Chriilmas " by the worfhipful Juflice Love-peace, affiftcd by twelve jurymen, of whom Brother Starve-moufe was the foreman. Objection having been taken to the jury ; the Jultice (remark- ing that this was not " Jojbuas day") ordered a more impartial one to be impanneled. The charges againft Chriltmas were — fuperflition, idolatry, over- feafting, and other high crimes and mifdemeanors. Here Sir Charity, a gallant Knight, Hepped for- ward and put the many good qualities of the calumni- ated Father in fo fair a light that he was honourably acquitted ; the Judge (on whofe feftivous phyfiog- nomy high jinks, and cakes and ale, were rofily rubricated) admonifhing him with a roguifh twinkle to be a " little" more circumfpecl for the future. " And Chriftmas ftraight was courted far and near, To each good houfe to tafte their plenteous cheer." Clothed in rich furs, his eyes fparkling with gaiety, his lips fmiling a hearty welcome, and every Old Father Christmas. 73 hair of his bufhy wig briftling with fun, Old Father Chriitmas is come again ! May he come to the reader without his too frequent, forrowful draw- back — the vacant chair, mute monitor! recalling to many bereaved hearts reminifcences of happy days never to return ! Upon fuch bruifed, but not broken reeds, let the confoling Words of "The Master" whofe Divine Advent we are now about to cele- brate, " Blefled are they that mourn, for they fliall be comforted," drop like celeftial dew. And here we take leave of Chriitmas, with Uncle Timothy's paraphrafe of this heavenly promife : — > THE LOVING CUP, AND HORACE WALPOLE. HE Loving Cup is one of the many popular and cordial cuftoms that, an-' tiquity has bequeathed to us. The Romans infcribed it with the feftive legend " Ex Hoc Amici bibunt," and realized that legend to the letter ; and the health-drinking Saxons tranfmitted it, with all its traditionary honours, to the middle ages. On grand occafions it circulated freely at the Abbot's table in the refectory, as the "Poculum charitatis," covering a multitude of prieftly peccadillos. At colleges it contributed to academi- cal hilarity, under the title of the "Grace Cup ,•" but thofe kings of good feeding and good fellowship, the right jovial citizens of London, chriftened it the "Loving Cup" its proper and approved name, and at the gaftronomical gatherings of their guilds inau- gurated it with due folemnity. The Mailer, or Prime Warden, rifing from his chair of ftate, and bowing, pledges the company, and wifhes them good Horace Walpole. 75 cheer. He then pafTes the cup to his next neigh- bour, who performs the fame courtefy to his, and fo on, until open hearts and mining faces teftify that all have imbibed a tafte of the neclar. In the olden time the Loving Cup,* like the Apoftle Spoon, was a houfehold god in private families. Weddings, birthdays, and chriftenings, were the occafions on which it was given as a memorial. The cup in Uncle Timothy's cabinet is one of thefe beautiful relics of the paft. Standing on its brim, it prefents the face and figure of Queen Elizabeth, as a milk- * Heywood, in his " Philocothonifta " (London, 1635), fays: — "Of drinking-cups divers and fundry forts we have; fome of elme, fome of box, fome of maple, fome of holly, &c. Mazers, broad-mouth difhes, noggins, whifkins, piggins, crinzes, ale-bowles, waffell-bowles, court- dimes, tankards, kannes, from a pottle to a pint, from a pint to a gill. Other bottles we have of leather, but they were molt ufed among the fhepheards, and harveft-people of the countrey ; fmall jacks we have in many alehoufes of the citie and fuburbs, tip't with filver, befides the great black jacks and bombards at the Court, which, when the Frenchmen firft faw, they reported, at their returne into their countrey, that the Eng- lifhmen ufed to drinke out of their bootes ; we have, befides, cups made of homes of beafts, of cockernuts, of goords, of the eggs of oftriches, others made of the fhells of divers fifhes brought from the Indies and other places, and mining like mother-of-pearle. Come to plate, every taverne can afford you flat bowles, French bowles, prounet cups, beare-bowles, beakers ; and private houfeholders in the citie, when they make a feaft to entertaine their friends, can furnifh their cupboards with flagons, tankards, beare-cups, and wine-bowles, fome white, fome percell guilt, fome guilt all over, fome with covers, others without, of fundry fhapes and qualities." j6 The Loving Cup and maid, holding a pail above her head. Upfide down, it is a cup, the cavity to contain the liquor being her Majefty's richly embroidered hoop petticoat. It was not intended to be fet down until drained of its contents, and though of more modeft dimenfions than the capacious Loving Cups, clerical and lay, of colleges and halls, it would afford a copious fip of fugared fack and fweet cordials to a wedding or a chriftening party. The Cup is of fine filver, ele- gantly defigned, beautifully chafed all round, and is in perfect condition. And now for its former pofTeifor, Horace Wal- pole, author, politician, and virtuofo. He com- menced his literary career under falfe colours ; de- clining to face openly the arrows of criticifm ; for the experiment had yet to be tried how the public would receive that ftartling novelty — an Englifh romance founded on fupernatural agency. The "Cattle of Otranto," though it puzzled profeffional critics, foon became popular. The " Myfterious Mother" was a flill bolder experiment. The revolting ftory was a true one. Walpole ftates that one of the party confulted Archbifhop Til- lotfon on the affair ; but Bifhop Hall mentions it in his Cafes of Confcience, printed in 1650. Confummate art and elegant poetry overcame that great flumbling- block, the unnatural horrors of the fcene, and won the day. The " Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors" is written in a truly ariftocratical fpirit. Nothing mediocre can by any Horace Walpole. 77 poffibility proceed from a prince or a peer ! The "Anecdotes of Painting" difplay more of the fmat- terer who has picked up a variety of fuperficial ideas, and technical terms, than of the tafteful con- noifleur, who has made that grand art his ftudy, and who is enthufiaftically alive to its beauties. It is to the charm of his letters that Walpole chiefly owes his fame as an author. For brilliant wit, lively anecdote, and an eafy, elegant flyle, he may rank with the Marquife de Sevigne ; but of fublime and picturefque defcription, delicate fatire, and generous fentiment, fuch as breathe through the letters of Gray, Cowper, and (occafionally) of Burns, he has little or none. The ante-chamber of the palace, the clofet of the courtier, and the penetralia of fome garrulous beauty, whofe charity had gone the way of her charms, were the atmofphere in which he lived. He waits not to examine fads before he pronounces on them. He is unrivalled in telling an unctuous tale of fcandal. He had a mercilefs memory for a back-flairs intrigue; and a fafhionable _/##.*• pas loft nothing in his telling. His inveterate love of cari- cature led him into exaggerated defcriptions of per- fons and events, which, however entertaining, mull be taken with liberal deductions. He ilurs by an inuendo, and lampoons in a line. His fly humour and fluent fopperies are irrefiftible, and infect with their wanton wickednefs. The gall-dipped reed of Ariftophanes had not more gangrene in it than his grey goofe-quiil. He always writes for effect, and 78 The Loving Cup and never fails to produce it. His weapon is not the club of Caliban, but the knife that flayed St. Bartho- lomew. Sometimes he would drefs it, as Harmodius drefled his dagger, in myrtle. Johnfon's impatient fifh-wife, who curfed the writhing eel for not lying ftill while fhe was ikinning it alive, was, compared to him, a filler of mercy. He fat in his eafy-chair (a monaftic relic) in his toy-mop at Twickenham, mocking at patriotifm and political honefty, neither of which quackeries he (like his father "Robin") believed in. Even of human virtues, thofe flowers of Paradife ! we fear, he had his doubts. He was the patriarch of three reigns, and the Methufelah of his family ; a Hate penfioner, pafling his long life in luxurious bachelorfhip and lettered eafe. He knew Pope his poetical neighbour ; was intimate with Colley Cibber (whofe life-like painted bull laughed in his face from a bracket at Strawberry Hill), and had " touched a card " with the termagant Kitty Clive. He affedled to difcountenance Garrick be- caufe he was too much of an aclor off the ftage ; whereas the faid Horace wore the cap and maik, aye, and often the bells, from manhood's firft fcene to its laft. He had "Chloe's" one great fault — he wanted a " heart ;" witnefs his early eftrangement from Gray, and his unkind treatment of " The wondrous Boy who perifh'd in his pride." He never loved much, nor was he ever much loved. He was too artificial to fed, or to infpire fympathy. Horace Walpole. 79 He had his followers and flatterers — blue-ftockings, tea-drinking dowagers, and impecunious fpinfters, fharp-fighted antiquaries, and oddity-hunters, who fipped his bohea out of Lilliputian china cups (walhed by his own gouty hands, fo dearly did he prize them !), admired his gimcracks, laughed at his anec- dotes, and praifed his poetry. He had been a dis- ciple of Ochlocracy, a rabid Whig. He hung up in his ftudy a copy of the Death Warrant of King Charles the Firft, which he ^//-called " Magna Charta!" Yet when the Revolution broke out in France ; when the Goddefs of Reafon in the perfon of a crowned harlot was paraded through flreets crimfoned with human blood, and "liberty" and " a la lanterne " became the order of the day, this rofe-water republican, who defpifed the gabble of the illuftrious rabble,* and, with inflinclive vul- garity, regarded a thread-bare coat as a badge of degradation, dreading that the levelling contagion might infect England, and fubject her peaceful citi- zens to the like explofions of ferocity, fhut himfelf up in his crazy caftle, and quaked at every bufh as a throat-cuttingy^zj- culotte ! The apprehended hur- ricane happily blew over, but liberty loft cafte with this newly-converted optimift for ever, and " Magna Charta," torn from its place of honour, was igno- * An Ariltocrat in love with ''Equality" would feem as unlikely as a tailor favouring Jans cuiotteifm, or a hatter pa- tronizing the guillotine ! 80 Horace Walpole. minioufly configned to fome dark corner in the lumber room to tell to the fpiders and rats its tale of regicide ! An adage for that mad age ! For many years Strawberry Hill was a public attradion. Such a rare colle&ion of relics, literary, hiftorical, artiftic, and antiquarian, was perhaps never brought together by the recondite refearch, refined tafte, and untiring induftry of one man. He was learned in the claffical languages ; in the exquifite Doric in which Pindar wrote. Italian was, how- ever, his favourite fludy ; from Giufti the wit, to Dante the fublime; and he was familiar with every dialect of the " dolce favella" from the fqueak of Naples, to the growl of Milan. The elegance and urbanity of his manners, the faultlefs propriety of his drefs (the curled Alcibiades was not a more accomplifhed beau), and his abitinence from the grofler vices, gave to his order — which in his early days much needed it — a tone of fobriety and refine- ment that it has never loft. For thefe, and many other diftinguifhed merits, Horace Walpole deferves well of the world. NEW YEAR'S EVE. NE of my moft agreeable New Year's Eves," faid Uncle Timothy, who, like Socrates, knew the value of mirth and thought, with the learned Selden, that there never was a merry world " fince the fairies left off dancing, and the parfon left conjuring," was fpent at Charles Lamb's Colebrooke Cottage, when Hood and Talfourd were of the party. A loqua- cious windbag (one of his "knock-eternal" vifitors) Lamb funk Hill deeper in abfurdity ; telling him that Junius Brutus wrote the Letters of Junius ; that Pope's mother was Pope Joan ; and that Hood's broken-winded Rofinante (a hybrid, not high-bred animal!) had died that day of a horfe- ification of the heart ! Our talk however foon took a more rational turn to joufts, miracle plays, the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the banquet of the boy-bifhop, the minnefingers, and the glee-maidens ; and then was Elia in full fong. New Year's Eve was celebrated by Uncle Timothy with a humorous fadnefs. " If," faid he, " the G 82 New Year's Eve. old year has ufed me well, why mould I, ungrate- fully, ring it out with merry bells ? If ill, where is my Chriftian charity for an expiring foe ? Has it done its belt to me ; muffled drums, not triple bob-majors, fhould found its requiem ; its worft ; in pity's name let it depart in peace. But may not the old year turn its tables upon me ? May it not afk whether the opportunities of felf-improvement that it afforded me have, or have not been thrown away ? Whether I have not ' mifufed ' it, as Fal- ftaff did the < King's Prefs ? ' < Think of that, Mailer Brook ! ' " I have no objection to the ringing in of the New Year. I would give the Stranger, as Hamlet gave the Ghoft (' as a ilranger') welcome. The New Year brings heavy refponfibilities and onerous duties that may well temper rejoicing, and induce anxious thought. How many that, on its advent, are at dinner mall, at its clofe, be at fupper, ( not where they eat, but, (with Polonius,) where they are eaten ?' " Manners and cuftoms had much changed fince the early days of Uncle Timothy. He lamented, with John Barker, the Elizabethan Ballad-monger, " how neybourhood, love, and trew dealyng is gone." " Of ingenuous youth," he would fay, " difcipline is no longer the monitor and guide. A royal road, by the fait train, to knowledge has been difcovered. The ear is crammed, but the mind is left empty. Sounds, not fenfe ; words, New Year's Eve. 83 not ideas ; are the refuk of this teaching. What an advantage would it be to fome mailers if they would Heal an hour or two in the day from their pupils to give their own mallow brains the benefit of the petty larceny ! ' When was Rome built?' inquired a modern pedagogue of his precocious pupil. * In the night, Sir! becaufe as how grand- mother faid Rome warn't built in a day !' 'And pray, Solomon, who was Jefle ?' ' The Flower of Dumblane!' fnuffled Solomon. I fhould like to know how looked the queerer! at this queereft of all replies ! The learned Doclor Keate when a prodigy of fcholarfhip conflrued ' Scipio Africanus* an Afri- can walking Hick, roared out, ' Sit down, Sir, you are too great a fool to be flogged ! ' " We had the pleafure of Uncle Timothy's com- pany on the New Year's Eve of 18 6-. He felt allured that at the quiet home of a friend whole taft.es and purfuits were identical with his own he might fpend a few focial and intellectual hours. With the younger branches of our houfehold he was alternately grave and gay. Giving them fuch advice as bell fuited their refpeclive conditions, and provoking their fmiles with lively anecdote, apt fimilitudes, and quaint remarks, with which his marvellous memory was fo richly flored.* While thofe whofe brows were as furrowed and whofe hairs were as white as his own, he addrefled in the * It is recorded of Cyrus that he could repeat the name of every foldier in his great army. 84 New Year's Eve. words of Pliny when fpeaking of the death of Fan- nius, ' Let us, my friends, while we yet live, exert all our endeavours, that death, whenever it fhall arrive, may find as little as poffible to deftroy.' " He defcribed a dinner party given many years ago by the late Thomas Hurft, the eminent bookfeller, at his Highgate manfion, at which he was prefent. "There," faid he, "was Scott {'Watty!' as the Ettrick Shepherd, when {kin-full of whifky toddy, was wont familiarly to call him), tall and ftalwart, frank and hilarious ; difcourfing fluently upon border feuds and forays, wizards and belted knights ; and tranfporting us to the roaring cataract, the blafted heath, the mountain glen, the deep moan of the fullen wave, and all the wonderful alchemy of the univerfe. There was Campbell, nervous and irrit- able, with his fharp Scotch accent, and voice — not like one of Dante's ghofts ' hoarfe with long filence,' but ringing and jfhrill, prefTing upon the company his converfation which was hardly worthy of his fine poetical genius. There was Rogers, cautious, and cold as an icicle, watching his opportunity, and with a fmile worthy of Mephiftopheles edging in a farcafm duly prepared for the occafion, and illuftrating the aphorifm, * Life is a comedy to thofe who think, and a tragedy to thofe who feel.' There, too, was Moore, the Puck of the party ! joyous and fparkling, launching his lampoons, perfonal and poetical, and giving full fcope to his Anacreontic and Bacchanalian propenfities. Crabbe (honeft New Year's Eve. 85 Parfon Adams !), with fatherly face, primitive man- mers and fuit of fables of an ultra-clerical cut, though at firft retiring and taciturn, would gra- dually warm into wifdom and wit ; Wordfworth (Holofernes and Sir Oracle !), with a vein of pure gold (a thin one!) running through his difcourfe, made its chief fubjecl: the eternal * Ego ' and his writings ; Coleridge, dictatorial and dreamy, an indifferent debater, but in a fet fpeech, ' the old man eloquent,' fcattered about his opinions and criticifms, which, though acute and fanciful, fmelt too much of the opium bottle and the lecture room; while Southey, with his various learning, urbane hu- mour, and beautiful literature caft funfhine upon all around him. John Kemble — the beau ideal of an accomplifhed gentleman, and whom I never faw and converfed with without being reminded of Don Quixote and Sir Roger de Coverley, and Mifs Baillie (Sir Walter Scott's ' Sifter Joanna !'), a choice fpeci- men of a well-bred literary lady of the old fchool, were alfo prefent. The dandies of the party were the two Toms, Campbell and Moore. Campbell's pea-green dove-tailed drefs-coat with embofTed brafs buttons, and velvet collar prepofteroufly high, was (like the Irifhman's blanket) too fhort at the bottom and too long at the top — and Moore's (coffee- coloured, with bright fteel buttons, and ample fkirts out of all proportion for a Druid fo diminu- tive, covering, as Scott flyly whifpered, ' too much of the Ca/f. n ) the very reverfe. Kemble recited 86 New Year's Eve. fome fine paffages from ' The Pleafures of Hope,' ' M arm ion/ and ' De Montfort;' and Moore, whofe voice was melodious and plaintive, fang with exquifite pathos and delicacy fome of his beautiful fongs, accompanying himfelf on the pianoforte. I remember a commercial joke that Rogers perpe- trated. One of the party fpcaking of fome difre- putable a£t of a certain bibliopoliit, added, ' it was when he was unfortunate,' (viz. bankrupt.) ' You mean,' faid Rogers, ' when his creditors were ! ' The two hardefl heads of the company relied on the broad moulders of the Northern Wizard and the Tragedian ; and the quantity of ' C /ay -ret,' as Scott accentuated it, that they imbibed was ' Pro- di-gi-ous !' " Alas ! for the inconftancy of fortune ! Our liberal hoft, in the evening of his days, took refuge in the Charter Houfe. In that time-honoured alms-houfe of noble poverty I often vifited him. There I met Major the bookfeller (alfo a ' poor Brother;') Haflewood (a rough diamond!) the editor of ' Drunken Barnaby,' &c. &c. ; Dr. Philip Blifs, of Oxford ; and dear William Pickering the learned publifhcr of the Aldine Edition of the Poets, a man whom to know was to refpecl, and whom to lofe was to mourn — all, like Hurft, de- voted lovers of the ' Angle.' Hurft bore his fad reverfe of fortune with refignation ; forgiving all, and hoping to be forgiven. " It was an ancient cuftom," continued Uncle New Year's Eve. 87 Timothy, who now rofe to take his leave, " for relations and friends to exchange New Year's Gifts. Beggar that I am, even in thanks ! what gift have I to offer ? Only this (putting into my hand a paper). Lay it to thy heart, and farewell ! " And Uncle Timothy's New Year's Gift was — THE NEW YEAR. " By the God of Mercy's pleafure I am ftill a Pilgrim here (Loving-kindnefs without meafurt !) To behold the new-born year. With the balmy breath of morning Comes a voice that feems to fay, Heaven vouchfafes another warning, See thou cafh it not away. Happy thou that doft not flumber (They had too their warnings here) With the unconverted number Gone with the departed year ! O ! if ever fin enthrall'd thee, Let it not enthral again ; O ! if ever wifdom call'd thee, Let her no more call in vain. Keep thy pafTions in fubje&ion, Banifh every thought impure, Yield thyfelf to God's direction, Hold thy faith unihaken, fure. 88 New Year's Eve. Should He in the furnace try thee, Pray for patience, ilrength to bear ; Knowing He is ever nigh thee, Prompt to hear and anfwer pray'r. Are the lines in pleafant places ? Has His bounty hope outran? Let mine forth thy Chriftian graces In benevolence to man. Ever to that holy mountain Where thy Prophet, Prieft, and King Freely open'd mercy's fountain Let thy faith her offering bring. She can bring no other token That thou would'ft the paft retrieve, But a contrite heart, and broken, Which thy Saviour will receive. For the promife of falvation, For compaffion fo divine, Let thy foul, in adoration, All the world for Him refign." The bells, with merry peals, rang out the old year. The clock flruck twelve. Again they chimed fu- rioufly ; and, ringing in the new year, went mufic- mad for joy ! Yet difcordant was their found, with the fubdued tones of Uncle Timothy ilill vibrating in our ears. THE PRESUMED DISINTERMENT OF MILTON. EW, perhaps, of the prefent generation are aware that on Wednefday, the 4th of Auguft, 1790, a coffin, prefumed to be Milton's, was difinterred in the pa- rifh church of St. Giles, Cripplegate ; a " Narrative" of which, written by Mr. Philip Neve, of FurnivaPs Inn, was publifhed by T. and J. Egerton, White- hall, on the 14th of the fame month. A fecond edition appeared on the 8th of September following. A copy of the latter (which is only the firft, "new vamped, &c, with the addition of a poftfcript/') from the libraries of Bindley and Heber, is in my pofleffion. It has the autograph of George Steevens on the title-page, and is interleaved throughout, in order to introduce a variety of minute and curious notes in his handwriting, pointing out the impofture. Thefe notes, which have never been printed, are, for the rare importance of the fubjecl, literary relics well worth preferving. 90 The Presumed Disinterment The "Narrative" Hates that, it being in contem- plation of fome perfons to beftow a confiderable fum of money in erecting a monument in the parifh church of St. Giles, Cripplegate, to the memory of Milton ("Credat Judceus Apella? fays Steevens, " parifh meetings have other objects in view, other topics of converfation. Many ftories concerning this monument have been circulated, but moil of them have proved without foundation. Such a me- morial, however, is begun by Bacon, the ftatuary, and, as it is fuppofed, by order of Mr. Whitbread, the opulent brewer,") certain of the parifhioners de- termined that his coffin mould be dug for, that the exact fpot of his grave might be afcertained before the faid monument was erected. The entry, among the burials, in the regifter-book, 12th of November, 1674, is, "John Milton, Gentleman, confumpcon, chancell." (Steevens fays, "Melton — but altered, in frefher ink than that with which the regifter was written.") The tradition had always been that Mil- ton was buried in the old chancel, under the former clerk's defk ; (" It was never heard of," replies Steevens, "till ftated on the prefent occafion;") and William Afcough, parifh clerk, of Cripplegate, whofe father and grandfather had filled the fame offices for ninety years pail, and John Poole, watch- fpring maker, of Jacob's-paffage (a feer of feventy), who had often heard his father talk of Milton's perfon, as defcribed by the venerable and veritable authorities that had actually feen him, confirmed the of Milton. 91 ftatement. It was therefore thought a good oppor- tunity (the church being under repair) to make the propofed fearch. Accordingly, Mr. John Cole, of Barbican, filverfmith, churchwarden; and Mr. Tho- mas Strong, folicitor, and veftry-clerk, ordered their workmen to dig from the prefent chancel, north- wards, towards the pillar againft which the former pulpit and defk had Hood, and over which the Com- mon Councilmen's pew now Hands. The refult was, that on Tuefday afternoon, Auguft 3rd, a coffin was difcovered, and Meffieurs Strong and Cole, by the light of a candle, defcended into the vault, where it lay diredHy over a wooden coffin, fuppofed to be that of Milton's father; tradition having re- ported that Milton was buried next (Steevens fays "near") to his father. "When I inquired," fays Steevens (who was prefent at the fecond difinter- ment), " about this circumftance, it appeared to want confirmation. The people prefent at the firfl: faid that the coffin was depofited in a ftrong cement. This particular is denied by Mr. Strong ; nor could I perceive any traces of a fubilance refembling ce- ment among the rubbifh thrown out on the 17th of Auguft." The "Narrative" ftates that in digging through the whole fpace, from the prefent chancel, where the ground was opened, to the fituation of the former clerk's defk, there was not found any other coffin which could raife a doubt of this being Milton's. To this Steevens replies, " The remains of feveral others were found there. I faw the 92 The Presumed Disinterment handles, &c. of them, as well as two fkulls, many bones, &c. Some others had been removed to the bone-houfe." Meffieurs Strong and Cole then or- dered water and a brufh, and began fcrubbing the coffin in fearch of an infcription, but none was found. The coffin is defcribed as being much cor- roded, five feet ten inches long, and at the broadeft part, over the moulders, one foot four inches wide.