object:1f.lovecraft - A Reminiscence of Dr. Samuel Johnson
author class:H P Lovecraft
subject class:Fiction
genre class:Horror
class:chapter
The Privilege of Reminiscence, however rambling or tiresome, is one
generally allow’d to the very aged; indeed, ’tis frequently by means of
such Recollections that the obscure occurrences of History, and the
lesser Anecdotes of the Great, are transmitted to Posterity.
Tho’ many of my readers have at times observ’d and remark’d a Sort of
antique Flow in my Stile of Writing, it hath pleased me to pass amongst
the Members of this Generation as a young Man, giving out the Fiction
that I was born in 1890, in America. I am now, however, resolv’d to
unburthen myself of a Secret which I have hitherto kept thro’ Dread of
Incredulity; and to impart to the Publick a true knowledge of my long
years, in order to gratifie their taste for authentick Information of
an Age with whose famous Personages I was on familiar Terms. Be it then
known that I was born on the family Estate in Devonshire, of the 10th
day of August, 1690 (or in the new Gregorian Stile of Reckoning, the
20th of August), being therefore now in my 228th year. Coming early to
London, I saw as a Child many of the celebrated Men of King William’s
Reign, including the lamented Mr. Dryden, who sat much at the Tables of
Will’s Coffee-House. With Mr. Addison and Dr. Swift I later became very
well acquainted, and was an even more familiar Friend to Mr. Pope, whom
I knew and respected till the Day of his Death. But since it is of my
more recent Associate, the late Dr. Johnson, that I am at this time
desir’d to write; I will pass over my Youth for the present.
I had first Knowledge of the Doctor in May of the year 1738, tho’ I did
not at that Time meet him. Mr. Pope had just compleated his Epilogue to
his Satires (the Piece beginning: “Not twice a Twelvemonth you appear
in Print.”), and had arrang’d for its Publication. On the very Day it
appear’d, there was also publish’d a Satire in Imitation of Juvenal,
intitul’d “London”, by the then unknown Johnson; and this so struck the
Town, that many Gentlemen of Taste declared, it was the Work of a
greater Poet than Mr. Pope. Notwithstanding what some Detractors have
said of Mr. Pope’s petty Jealousy, he gave the Verses of his new Rival
no small Praise; and having learnt thro’ Mr. Richardson who the Poet
was, told me ‘that Mr. Johnson wou’d soon be deterré.’
I had no personal Acquaintance with the Doctor till 1763, when I was
presented to him at the Mitre Tavern by Mr. James Boswell, a young
Scotchman of excellent Family and great Learning, but small Wit, whose
metrical Effusions I had sometimes revis’d.
Dr. Johnson, as I beheld him, was a full, pursy Man, very ill drest,
and of slovenly Aspect. I recall him to have worn a bushy Bob-Wig,
untyed and without Powder, and much too small for his Head. His cloaths
were of rusty brown, much wrinkled, and with more than one Button
missing. His Face, too full to be handsom, was likewise marred by the
Effects of some scrofulous Disorder; and his Head was continually
rolling about in a sort of convulsive way. Of this Infirmity, indeed, I
had known before; having heard of it from Mr. Pope, who took the
Trouble to make particular Inquiries.
Being nearly seventy-three, full nineteen Years older than Dr. Johnson
(I say Doctor, tho’ his Degree came not till two Years afterward), I
naturally expected him to have some Regard for my Age; and was
therefore not in that Fear of him, which others confess’d. On my asking
him what he thought of my favourable Notice of his Dictionary in The
Londoner, my periodical Paper, he said: “Sir, I possess no Recollection
of having perus’d your Paper, and have not a great Interest in the
Opinions of the less thoughtful Part of Mankind.” Being more than a
little piqued at the Incivility of one whose Celebrity made me
solicitous of his Approbation, I ventur’d to retaliate in kind, and
told him, I was surpris’d that a Man of Sense shou’d judge the
Thoughtfulness of one whose Productions he admitted never having read.
“Why, Sir,” reply’d Johnson, “I do not require to become familiar with
a Man’s Writings in order to estimate the Superficiality of his
Attainments, when he plainly shews it by his Eagerness to mention his
own Productions in the first Question he puts to me.” Having thus
become Friends, we convers’d on many Matters. When, to agree with him,
I said I was distrustful of the Authenticity of Ossian’s Poems, Mr.
Johnson said: “That, Sir, does not do your Understanding particular
Credit; for what all the Town is sensible of, is no great Discovery for
a Grub-Street Critick to make. You might as well say, you have a strong
Suspicion that Milton wrote Paradise Lost!”
I thereafter saw Johnson very frequently, most often at Meetings of THE
LITERARY CLUB, which was founded the next Year by the Doctor, together
with Mr. Burke, the parliamentary Orator, Mr. Beauclerk, a Gentleman of
Fashion, Mr. Langton, a pious Man and Captain of Militia, Sir J.
Reynolds, the widely known Painter, Dr. Goldsmith, the prose and
poetick Writer, Dr. Nugent, father-in-law to Mr. Burke, Sir John
Hawkins, Mr. Anthony Chamier, and my self. We assembled generally at
seven o’clock of an Evening, once a Week, at the Turk’s-Head, in
Gerrard-Street, Soho, till that Tavern was sold and made into a private
Dwelling; after which Event we mov’d our Gatherings successively to
Prince’s in Sackville-Street, Le Tellier’s in Dover-Street, and
Parsloe’s and The Thatched House in St. James’s-Street. In these
Meetings we preserv’d a remarkable Degree of Amity and Tranquillity,
which contrasts very favourably with some of the Dissensions and
Disruptions I observe in the literary and amateur Press Associations of
today. This Tranquillity was the more remarkable, because we had
amongst us Gentlemen of very opposed Opinions. Dr. Johnson and I, as
well as many others, were high Tories; whilst Mr. Burke was a Whig, and
against the American War, many of his Speeches on that Subject having
been widely publish’d. The least congenial Member was one of the
Founders, Sir John Hawkins, who hath since written many
misrepresentations of our Society. Sir John, an eccentrick Fellow, once
declin’d to pay his part of the Reckoning for Supper, because ’twas his
Custom at Home to eat no Supper. Later he insulted Mr. Burke in so
intolerable a Manner, that we all took Pains to shew our Disapproval;
after which Incident he came no more to our Meetings. However, he never
openly fell out with the Doctor, and was the Executor of his Will; tho’
Mr. Boswell and others have Reason to question the genuineness of his
Attachment. Other and later Members of the CLUB were Mr. David Garrick,
the Actor and early Friend of Dr. Johnson, Messieurs Tho. and Jos.
Warton, Dr. Adam Smith, Dr. Percy, Author of the “Reliques”, Mr. Edw.
Gibbon, the Historian, Dr. Burney, the Musician, Mr. Malone, the
Critick, and Mr. Boswell. Mr. Garrick obtain’d Admittance only with
Difficulty; for the Doctor, notwithstanding his great Friendship, was
for ever affecting to decry the Stage and all Things connected with it.
Johnson, indeed, had a most singular Habit of speaking for Davy when
others were against him, and of arguing against him, when others were
for him. I have no Doubt but that he sincerely lov’d Mr. Garrick, for
he never alluded to him as he did to Foote, who was a very coarse
Fellow despite his comick Genius. Mr. Gibbon was none too well lik’d,
for he had an odious sneering Way which offended even those of us who
most admir’d his historical Productions. Mr. Goldsmith, a little Man
very vain of his Dress and very deficient in Brilliancy of
Conversation, was my particular Favourite; since I was equally unable
to shine in the Discourse. He was vastly jealous of Dr. Johnson, tho’
none the less liking and respecting him. I remember that once a
Foreigner, a German, I think, was in our Company; and that whilst
Goldsmith was speaking, he observ’d the Doctor preparing to utter
something. Unconsciously looking upon Goldsmith as a meer Encumbrance
when compar’d to the greater Man, the Foreigner bluntly interrupted him
and incurr’d his lasting Hostility by crying, “Hush, Toctor Shonson iss
going to speak!”
In this luminous Company I was tolerated more because of my Years than
for my Wit or Learning; being no Match at all for the rest. My
Friendship for the celebrated Monsieur Voltaire was ever a Cause of
Annoyance to the Doctor; who was deeply orthodox, and who us’d to say
of the French Philosopher: “Vir est acerrimi Ingenii et paucarum
Literarum.”
Mr. Boswell, a little teazing Fellow whom I had known for some Time
previously, us’d to make Sport of my aukward Manners and old-fashion’d
Wig and Cloaths. Once coming in a little the worse for Wine (to which
he was addicted) he endeavour’d to lampoon me by means of an Impromptu
in verse, writ on the Surface of the Table; but lacking the Aid he
usually had in his Composition, he made a bad grammatical Blunder. I
told him, he shou’d not try to pasquinade the Source of his Poesy. At
another Time Bozzy (as we us’d to call him) complain’d of my Harshness
toward new Writers in the Articles I prepar’d for The Monthly Review.
He said, I push’d every Aspirant off the Slopes of Parnassus. “Sir,” I
reply’d, “you are mistaken. They who lose their Hold do so from their
own Want of Strength; but desiring to conceal their Weakness, they
attribute the Absence of Success to the first Critick that mentions
them.” I am glad to recall that Dr. Johnson upheld me in this Matter.
Dr. Johnson was second to no Man in the Pains he took to revise the bad
Verses of others; indeed, ’tis said that in the book of poor blind old
Mrs. Williams, there are scarce two lines which are not the Doctor’s.
At one Time Johnson recited to me some lines by a Servant to the Duke
of Leeds, which had so amus’d him, that he had got them by Heart. They
are on the Duke’s Wedding, and so much resemble in Quality the Work of
other and more recent poetick Dunces, that I cannot forbear copying
them:
“When the Duke of Leeds shall marry’d be
To a fine young Lady of high Quality
How happy will that Gentlewoman be
In his Grace of Leeds’ good Company.”
I ask’d the Doctor, if he had ever try’d making Sense of this Piece;
and upon his saying he had not, I amus’d myself with the following
Amendment of it:
When Gallant LEEDS auspiciously shall wed
The virtuous Fair, of antient Lineage bred,
How must the Maid rejoice with conscious Pride
To win so great an Husband to her Side!
On shewing this to Dr. Johnson, he said, “Sir, you have straightened
out the Feet, but you have put neither Wit nor Poetry into the Lines.”
It wou’d afford me Gratification to tell more of my Experiences with
Dr. Johnson and his circle of Wits; but I am an old Man, and easily
fatigued. I seem to ramble along without much Logick or Continuity when
I endeavour to recall the Past; and fear I light upon but few Incidents
which others have not before discuss’d. Shou’d my present Recollections
meet with Favour, I might later set down some further Anecdotes of old
Times of which I am the only Survivor. I recall many things of Sam
Johnson and his Club, having kept up my Membership in the Latter long
after the Doctor’s Death, at which I sincerely mourn’d. I remember how
John Burgoyne, Esq., the General, whose Dramatick and Poetical Works
were printed after his Death, was blackballed by three Votes; probably
because of his unfortunate Defeat in the American War, at Saratoga.
Poor John! His Son fared better, I think, and was made a Baronet. But I
am very tired. I am old, very old, and it is Time for my Afternoon Nap.
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