CHAPTER XII.

LETTERS OF DR. JOHNSON.

LETTER I.

To Mr. Elphinston.

September 25, 1750.

Dear sir, You have, as I find by every kind of evi dence, lost an excellent mother; and I hope you will not think me incapable of partaking of your grief. I have a mother now eighty two years of age; whom, therefore, I must soon lose, unless it please God that she rather should mourn for me. I read the letters in which you relate your mother's death to Mrs. Straban; and think I do myself honour when I tell you that I read them with tears: but tears are neither to you nor to me of any farther use, when the tribute of nature has been paid. The business of life summons us away from useless grief, and calls us to the exercise of those virtues of which we are lamenting our depriva tion. The greatest benefit which one friend can confer upon another, is to guard, and excite, and elevate his virtues. This, your mother will still perform, if you diligently preserve the memory of her life, and of her death: a life, so far as I can learn, useful and wise; and a death resigned peaceful, and holy. I cannot forbear to mention, that neither reason nor revelation denies you to hope, that you may increase her happiness by obeying her precepts; and that she may, in her present state, look with pleasure upon every act of virtue to which her instructions or example have contributed. Whether this is more than a pleasing dream, or a just opinion of separate spirits, is, indeed

of no great importance to us, when we consider ourselves as acting under the eye of God: yet surely there is something pleasing in the belief, that our separation from those whom we love is merely corporeal.

There is one expedient, by which you may, in some degree, continue your mother's presence. If you write down minutely what you remember of her from your earliest years, you will read it with great pleasure, and receive from it many hints of soothing recollection, when time shall remove her yet farther from you, and your grief shall be matured to veneration. To this, however painful for the present, I cannot but advise you, as to a source of comfort and satisfaction in the time to come; for all comfort and all satisfaction are sincerely wished you by, dear sir,

Your most obliged,

And most obedient servant,

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

Sir,

LETTER II.

To Bennet Langton, esq.

May 6, 1755.

It has been long observed, that men do not suspect faults which they do not commit: your own elegance of manners, and punctuality of complaisance, did not suffer you to impute to me that negligence of which I was guilty, and which I have not since atoned. I received both your letters: and I received them with pleasure proportionate to the esteem which so short an acquaintance strongly impressed; and which I hope to confirm by nearer knowledge, though I am afraid that gratification will be for a time withheld.

I have, indeed, published my book,* of which I beg to know your father's judgment, and yours; and I

* His Dictionary.

have now staid long enough to watch its progress into the world. It has, you see, no patrons; and, I think, it has yet had no opponents, except the critics of the coffee-house, whose outcries are soon dispersed into the air, and are thought on no more; from this, therefore, I am at liberty, and I think of taking the opportunity to make an excursion; and why not then into Lincolnshire? or, to mention a stronger attraction, why not to dear Mr.. Langton? I will give the true reason, which I know you will approve:-I have a mother more than eighty years old, who has counted the days to the publication of my book, in hopes of seeing me; and to her, if I can disengage myself here, I resolve to go.

As I know, dear sir, that to delay my visit for a reason like this, will not deprive me of your esteem, I beg it may not lessen your kindness. I have very seldom received an offer of friendship which I so earnestly desire to cultivate and mature. I shall rejoice to hear from you, till I can see you, and I will see you as soon as I can; for when the duty that calls me to Lichfield, is discharged, my inclination will carry me to Langton. I shall delight to hear the ocean roar, or see the stars twinkle, in the company of men to whom Nature does not spread her volumes, or utter her voice, in vain.

Do not, dear sir, make the slowness of this letter a precedent for delay, or imagine that I approved the incivility which I have committed; for I have known you enough to love you, and sincerely to wish for further knowledge; and I assure you, once more, that to live in a house which contains such a father and such a son, will be accounted a very uncommon degree of pleasure by, dear sir,

Your most obliged, and

Most humble servant,

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

Dearest sir.

LETTER III.

To Bennet Langton, esq.

January 9, 1758.

I must have indeed slept very fast, not' to have been awakened by your letter. None of your suspicions are true: I am not much richer than when you left me; and, what is worse, my omission. of an answer to your first letter, will prove that I am not much wiser. But I go on as I formerly did, designing to be some time or other both rich and wise. Do you take notice of my example, and learn the danger of delay. When I was as you are now, towering in confidence of twenty one, little did I suspect that I should be at forty nine, what I now am.

But you do not seem to need my admonition. You are busy in acquiring and in communicating knowledge; and while you are studying, enjoy the end of study, by making others wiser and happier. I was much pleased with the tale that you told me of your being tutor to your sisters. I, who have no brothers nor sisters, look with some degree of envy on those who may be said to be born to friends; and I cannot see, without wonder, how rarely that native union is afterwards regarded. It sometimes, indeed, happens, that some supervenient cause of discord may overpower this original amity; but it seems to me more frequently thrown away with levity, or lost by negligence, than destroyed by injury or violence. We tell the ladies that good wives make good husbands; I believe it is a more indubitable position that good brothers make good sisters.

I am satisfied with your stay at home, as Juvenal was with his friend's retirement to Cumæ: I know that your absence is best, though it be not best for me. Langton is a good Cume, but who must be

Sibylla? Mrs. Langton is as wise as Sibyl; and she will live, if my wishes can prolong life, till she shall in time be as old. But she differs in this, that she has not scattered her precepts in the wind, at least not those which she bestowed upon you.

I have left off housekeeping; and I therefore made presents of the game which you were pleased to send me. The pheasant I gave to Mr. Richardson, the bustard to Dr. Lawrence, and the pot I placed with miss Williams, to be eaten by myself. She desires that her compliments and good wishes may be accepted by the family; and I make the same request for myself.

I wish I could tell you of any great good to which I am approaching; but at present my prospects do not much delight me however, I am always pleased when I find that you, dear sir, remember

Your affectionate humble servant,

SAMUEL JOHNSON.

LETTER IV.

To Mr. Baretti, at Milan.

London, June 10, 1761.

You reproach me very often with parsimony of writing; but you may discover by the extent of my paper, that I design to recompense rarity by length. A short letter to a distant friend is, in my opinion, an insult like that of a slight bow, or cursory salutation; a proof of unwillingness to do much, even where there is a necessity of doing something. Yet it must be remembered, that he who continues the same course of life, in the same place, will have little to tell. One week and one year are very like another. The silent changes made by time are not