the miscellaneous writings and speeches-3-第20章

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petent　to　treat。　　He　was　in　no　sense　a　statesman。　　He　never　willingly　read　or　thought　or　talked　about　affairs　of　state。　　He　loved　biography；　literary　history；　the　history　of　manners；　but　political　history　was　positively　distasteful　to　him。　　The　question　at　issue　between　the　colonies　and　the　mother　country　was　a　question　about　which　he　had　really　nothing　to　say。　　He　failed；　therefore；　as　the　greatest　men　must　fail　when　they　attempt　to　do　that　for　which　they　are　unfit；　as　Burke　would　have　failed　if　Burke　had　tried　to　write　comedies　like　those　of　Sheridan；　as　Reynolds　would　have　failed　if　Reynolds　had　tried　to　paint　landscapes　like　those　of　Wilson。　　Happily；　Johnson　soon　had　an　opportunity　of　proving　most　signally　that　his　failure　was　not　to　be　ascribed　to　intellectual　decay。　On　Easter　Eve　1777；　some　persons；　deputed　by　a　meeting　which　consisted　of　forty　of　the　first　booksellers　in　London；　called　upon　him。　　Though　he　had　some　scruples　about　doing　business　at　that　season；　he　received　his　visitors　with　much　civility。　　They　came　to　inform　him　that　a　new　edition　of　the　English　poets；　from　Cowley　downwards；　was　in　contemplation；　and　to　ask　him　to　furnish　short　biographical　prefaces。　　He　readily　undertook　the　task；　a　task　for　which　he　was　pre…eminently　qualified。　　His　knowledge　of　the　literary　history　of　England　since　the　Restoration　was　unrivalled。　　That　knowledge　he　had　derived　partly　from　books；　and　partly　from　sources　which　had　long　been　closed；　from　old　Grub　Street　traditions；　from　the　talk　of　forgotten　poetasters　and　pamphleteers　who　had　long　been　lying　in　parish　vaults；　from　the　recollections　of　such　men　as　Gilbert　Walmesley；　who　had　conversed　with　the　wits　of　Button；　Cibber；　who　had　mutilated　the　plays　of　two　generations　of　dramatists；　Orrery；　who　had　been　admitted　to　the　society　of　Swift；　and　Savage；　who　had　rendered　services　of　no　very　honourable　kind　to　Pope。　　The　biographer　therefore　sate　down　to　his　task　with　a　mind　full　of　matter。　　He　had　at　first　intended　to　give　only　a　paragraph　to　every　minor　poet；　and　only　four　or　five　pages　to　the　greatest　name。　　But　the　flood　of　anecdote　and　criticism　overflowed　the　narrow　channel。　　The　work；　which　was　originally　meant　to　consist　only　of　a　few　sheets；　swelled　into　ten　volumes；　small　volumes；　it　is　true；　and　not　closely　printed。　　The　first　four　appeared　in　1779；　the　remaining　six　in　1781。　The　Lives　of　the　Poets　are；　on　the　whole；　the　best　of　Johnson's　works。　　The　narratives　are　as　entertaining　as　any　novel。　　The　remarks　on　life　and　on　human　nature　are　eminently　shrewd　and　profound。　　The　criticisms　are　often　excellent；　and；　even　when　grossly　and　provokingly　unjust；　well　deserve　to　be　studied。　　For；　however　erroneous　they　may　be；　they　are　never　silly。　　They　are　the　judgments　of　a　mind　trammelled　by　prejudice　and　deficient　in　sensibility；　but　vigorous　and　acute。　　They　therefore　generally　contain　a　portion　of　valuable　truth　which　deserves　to　be　separated　from　the　alloy；　and；　at　the　very　worst；　they　mean　something；　a　praise　to　which　much　of　what　is　called　criticism　in　our　time　has　no　pretensions。　Savage's　Life　Johnson　reprinted　nearly　as　it　had　appeared　in　1744。　　Whoever；　after　reading　that　life；　will　turn　to　the　other　lives　will　be　struck　by　the　difference　of　style。　　Since　Johnson　had　been　at　ease　in　his　circumstances　he　had　written　little　and　had　talked　much。　　When；　therefore；　he；　after　the　lapse　of　years；　resumed　his　pen；　the　mannerism　which　he　had　contracted　while　he　was　in　the　constant　habit　of　elaborate　composition　was　less　perceptible　than　formerly；　and　his　diction　frequently　had　a　colloquial　ease　which　it　had　formerly　wanted。　　The　improvement　may　be　discerned　by　a　skilful　critic　in　the　Journey　to　the　Hebrides；　and　in　the　Lives　of　the　Poets　is　so　obvious　that　it　cannot　escape　the　notice　of　the　most　careless　reader。　Among　the　lives　the　best　are　perhaps　those　of　Cowley；　Dryden；　and　Pope。　　The　very　worst　is；　beyond　all　doubt；　that　of　Gray。　This　great　work　at　once　became　popular。　　There　was；　indeed；　much　just　and　much　unjust　censure：　　but　even　those　who　were　loudest　in　blame　were　attracted　by　the　book　in　spite　of　themselves。　　Malone　computed　the　gains　of　the　publishers　at　five　or　six　thousand　pounds。　　But　the　writer　was　very　poorly　remunerated。　　Intending　at　first　to　write　very　short　prefaces；　he　had　stipulated　for　only　two　hundred　guineas。　　The　booksellers；　when　they　saw　how　far　his　performance　had　surpassed　his　promise；　added　only　another　hundred。　　Indeed；　Johnson；　though　he　did　not　despise；　or　affect　to　despise；　money；　and　though　his　strong　sense　and　long　experience　ought　to　have　qualified　him　to　protect　his　own　interests；　seems　to　have　been　singularly　unskilful　and　unlucky　in　his　literary　bargains。　　He　was　generally　reputed　the　first　English　writer　of　his　time。　　Yet　several　writers　of　his　time　sold　their　copyrights　for　sums　such　as　he　never　ventured　to　ask。　　To　give　a　single　instance；　Robertson　received　four　thousand　five　hundred　pounds　for　the　History　of　Charles　V。；　and　it　is　no　disrespect　to　the　memory　of　Robertson　to　say　that　the　History　of　Charles　V。　is　both　a　less　valuable　and　a　less　amusing　book　than　the　Lives　of　the　Poets。　Johnson　was　now　in　his　seventy…second　year。　　The　infirmities　of　age　were　coming　fast　upon　him。　　That　inevitable　event　of　which　he　never　thought　without　horror　was　brought　near　to　him；　and　his　whole　life　was　darkened　by　the　shadow　of　death。　　He　had　often　to　pay　the　cruel　price　of　longevity。　　Every　year　he　lost　what　could　never　be　replaced。　　The　strange　dependents　to　whom　he　had　given　shelter；　and　to　whom；　in　spite　of　their　faults；　he　was　strongly　attached　by　habit；　dropped　off　one　by　one；　and；　in　the　silence　of　his　home；　he　regretted　even　the　noise　of　their　scolding　matches。　　The　kind　and　generous　Thrale　was　no　more；　and　it　would　have　been　well　if　his　wife　had　been　laid　beside　him。　　But　she　survived　to　be　the　laughing…stock　of　those　who　had　envied　her；　and　to　draw　from　the　eyes　of　the　old　man　who　had　loved　her　beyond　anything　in　the　world　tears　far　more　bitter　than　he　would　have　shed　over　her　grave。　　With　some　estimable　and　many　agreeable　qualities；　she　was　not　made　to　be　independent。　　The　control　of　a　mind　more　steadfast　than　her　own　was　necessary　to　her　respectability。　　While　she　was　restrained　by　her　husband；　a　man　of　sense　and　firmness；　indulgent　to　her　taste　in　trifles；　but　always　the　undisputed　master　of　his　house；　her　worst　offences　had　been　impertinent　jokes；　white　lies；　and　short　fits　of　pettishness　ending　in　sunny　good　humour。　　But　he　was　gone；　and　she　was　left　an　opulent　widow　of　forty；　with　strong　sensibility；　volatile　fancy；　and　slender　judgment。　　She　soon　fell　in　love　with　a　music…master　from　Brescia；　in　whom　nobody　but　herself　could　discover　anything　to　admire。　　Her　pride；　and　perhaps　some　better　feelings；　struggled　hard　against　this　degrading　passion。　　But　the　struggle　irritated　her　nerves；　soured　her　temper；　and　at　length　endangered　her　health。　　Conscious　that　her　choice　was　one　which　Johnson　could　not　approve；　she　became　desirous　to　escape　from　his　inspection。　　Her　manner　towards　him　changed。　　She　was　sometimes　cold　and　sometimes　petulant。　　She　did　not　conceal　her　joy　when　he　left　Streatham；　she　never　pressed　him　to　return；　and；　if　he　came　unbidden；　she　received　him　in　a　manner　which　convinced　him　that　he　was　no　longer　a　welcome　guest。　　He　took　the　very　intelligible　hints　which　she　gave。　　He　read；　for　the　last　time；　a　chapter　of　the　Greek　testament　in　the　library　which　had　been　formed　by　himself。　　In　a　solemn　and　tender　prayer　he　commended　the　house　and　its　inmates　to　the　Divine　protection；　and；　with　emotions　which　choked　his　voice　and　convulsed　his　powerful　frame；　left　for　ever　that　beloved　home　for　the　gloomy　and　desolate　house　behind　Fleet　Street；　where　the　few　and　evil　days　which　still　remained　to　him　were　to　run　out。　　Here；　in　June　1783；　he　had　a　paralytic　stroke；　from　which；　however；　he　recovered；　and　which　does　not　appear　to　have　at　all　impaired　his　intellectual　faculties。　　But　other　maladies　came　thick　upon　him。　　His　asthma　tormented　him　day　and　night。　　Dropsical　symptoms　made　their　appearance。　　While　sinking　under　a　complication　of　diseases；　he　heard　that　the　woman　whose　friendship　had　been　the　chief　happiness　of　sixteen　years　of　his　life　had　married　an　Italian　fiddler；　that　all　London　was　crying　shame　upon　her；　and　that　the　newspapers　and　magazines　were　filled　with　allusions　to　the　Ephesian　matron；　and　the　two　pictures　in　Hamlet。　　He　vehemently　said　that　he　would　try　to　forget　her　existence。　　He　never　uttered　her　name。　　Every　memorial　of　her　which　met　his　eye　he　flung　into　the　fire。　　She　meanwhile　fled　from　the　laughter　and　hisses　of　her　countrymen　and　countrywomen　to　a　land　where　she　was　unknown；　hastened　across　Mount　Cenis；　and　learned；　while　passing　a　merry　Christmas　of　concerts　and　lemonade　parties　at　Milan；　that　the　great　man　with　whose　name　hers　is　inseparably　associated　had　ceased　to　exist。　He　had；　in　spite　of　much　mental　and　much　bodily　affliction；　clung　vehemently　to　life。　　The　feeling　described　in　that　fine　but　gloomy　paper　which　closes　the　series　of　his　Idlers　seemed　to　grow　stronger　in　him　as　his　last　hour　drew　near。　　He　fancied　that　he　should　be　able　to　draw　his　breath　more　easily　in　a　southern　climate；　and　would　probably　have　s