anecdotes of the late samuel johnson-第29部分

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r　did　the　running　away　of　the　horses　on　the　edge　of　a　precipice　between　Vernon　and　St。　Denis；　in　France；　convince　him　to　the　contrary；　〃for　nothing　came　of　it；〃　he　said；　〃except　that　Mr。　Thrale　leaped　out　of　the　carriage　into　a　chalk…pit；　and　then　came　up　again　looking　AS　WHITE！〃　　When　the　truth　was；　all　their　lives　were　saved　by　the　greatest　Providence　ever　exerted　in　favour　of　three　human　creatures；　and　the　part　Mr。　Thrale　took　from　desperation　was　the　likeliest　thing　in　the　world　to　produce　broken　limbs　and　death。

Fear　was　indeed　a　sensation　to　which　Mr。　Johnson　was　an　utter　stranger；　excepting　when　some　sudden　apprehensions　seized　him　that　he　was　going　to　die；　and　even　then　he　kept　all　his　wits　about　him　to　express　the　most　humble　and　pathetic　petitions　to　the　Almighty。　　And　when　the　first　paralytic　stroke　took　his　speech　from　him；　he　instantly　set　about　composing　a　prayer　in　Latin；　at　once　to　deprecate　God's　mercy；　to　satisfy　himself　that　his　mental　powers　remained　unimpaired；　and　to　keep　them　in　exercise；　that　they　might　not　perish　by　permitted　stagnation。　　This　was　after　we　parted；　but　he　wrote　me　an　account　of　it；　and　I　intend　to　publish　that　letter；　with　many　more。

When　one　day　he　had　at　my　house　taken　tincture　of　antimony　instead　of　emetic　wine；　for　a　vomit；　he　was　himself　the　person　to　direct　us　what　to　do　for　him；　and　managed　with　as　much　coolness　and　deliberation　as　if　he　had　been　prescribing　for　an　indifferent　person。　　Though　on　another　occasion；　when　he　had　lamented　in　the　most　piercing　terms　his　approaching　dissolution；　and　conjured　me　solemnly　to　tell　him　what　I　thought；　while　Sir　Richard　Jebb　was　perpetually　on　the　road　to　Streatham；　and　Mr。　Johnson　seemed　to　think　himself　neglected　if　the　physician　left　him　for　an　hour　only；　I　made　him　a　steady；　but　as　I　thought　a　very　gentle　harangue；　in　which　I　confirmed　all　that　the　doctor　had　been　saying；　how　no　present　danger　could　be　expected；　but　that　his　age　and　continued　ill…health　must　naturally　accelerate　the　arrival　of　that　hour　which　can　be　escaped　by　none。　〃And　this；〃　says　Johnson；　rising　in　great　anger；　〃is　the　voice　of　female　friendship；　I　suppose；　when　the　hand　of　the　hangman　would　be　softer。〃

Another　day；　when　he　was　ill；　and　exceedingly　low…spirited；　and　persuaded　that　death　was　not　far　distant；　I　appeared　before　him　in　a　dark…coloured　gown；　which　his　bad　sight；　and　worse　apprehensions；　made　him　mistake　for　an　iron…grey。　　〃Why　do　you　delight；〃　said　he；　〃thus　to　thicken　the　gloom　of　misery　that　surrounds　me？　　Is　not　here　sufficient　accumulation　of　horror　without　anticipated　mourning？〃　　〃This　is　not　mourning；　sir；〃　said　I；　drawing　the　curtain；　that　the　light　might　fall　upon　the　silk；　and　show　it　was　a　purple　mixed　with　green。　　〃Well；　well；〃　replied　he；　changing　his　voice；　〃you　little　creatures　should　never　wear　those　sort　of　clothes；　however；　they　are　unsuitable　in　every　way。　　What！　have　not　all　insects　gay　colours？〃　　I　relate　these　instances　chiefly　to　show　that　the　fears　of　death　itself　could　not　suppress　his　wit；　his　sagacity；　or　his　temptation　to　sudden　resentment。

Mr。　Johnson　did　not　like　that　his　friends　should　bring　their　manuscripts　for　him　to　read；　and　he　liked　still　less　to　read　them　when　they　were　brought。　　Sometimes；　however；　when　he　could　not　refuse；　he　would　take　the　play　or　poem；　or　whatever　it　was；　and　give　the　people　his　opinion　from　some　one　page　he　had　peeped　into。　　A　gentleman　carried　him　his　tragedy；　which；　because　he　loved　the　author；　Johnson　took；　and　it　lay　about　our　rooms　some　time。　　〃What　answer　did　you　give　your　friend；　sir？〃　said　I；　after　the　book　had　been　called　for。　　〃I　told　him；〃　replied　he；　〃that　there　was　too　much　TIG　and　TIRRY　in　it！〃　　Seeing　me　laugh　most　violently；　〃Why；　what　would'st　have；　child？〃　said　he。　　〃I　looked　at　the　dramatis；　and　there　was　TIGranes　and　TIRIdates；　or　Teribazus；　or　such　stuff。　　A　man　can　tell　but　what　he　knows；　and　I　never　got　any　farther　than　the　first　page。　　Alas；　madam！〃　continued　he；　〃how　few　books　are　there　of　which　one　ever　can　possibly　arrive　at　the　LAST　page。　　Was　there　ever　yet　anything　written　by　mere　man　that　was　wished　longer　by　its　readers；　excepting　'Don　Quixote；'　'Robinson　Crusoe；'　and　the　'Pilgrim's　Progress？'〃　　After　Homer's　Iliad；　Mr。　Johnson　confessed　that　the　work　of　Cervantes　was　the　greatest　in　the　world；　speaking　of　it　I　mean　as　a　book　of　entertainment。　　And　when　we　consider　that　every　other　author's　admirers　are　confined　to　his　countrymen；　and　perhaps　to　the　literary　classes　among　THEM；　while　〃Don　Quixote〃　is　a　sort　of　common　property；　an　universal　classic；　equally　tasted　by　the　court　and　the　cottage；　equally　applauded　in　France　and　England　as　in　Spain；　quoted　by　every　servant；　the　amusement　of　every　age　from　infancy　to　decrepitude；　the　first　book　you　see　on　every　shelf；　in　every　shop；　where　books　are　sold；　through　all　the　states　of　Italy；　who　can　refuse　his　consent　to　an　avowal　of　the　superiority　of　Cervantes　to　all　other　modern　writers？　　Shakespeare　himself　has；　till　lately；　been　worshipped　only　at　home；　though　his　plays　are　now　the　favourite　amusements　of　Vienna；　and　when　I　was　at　Padua　some　months　ago；　Romeo　and　Juliet　was　acted　there　under　the　name　of　Tragedia　Veronese；　while　engravers　and　translators　LIVE　by　the　hero　of　La　Mancha　in　every　nation；　and　the　sides　of　miserable　inns　all　over　England　and　France；　and　I　have　heard　Germany　too；　are　adorned　with　the　exploits　of　Don　Quixote。　May　his　celebrity　procure　my　pardon　for　a　digression　in　praise　of　a　writer　who；　through　four　volumes　of　the　most　exquisite　pleasantry　and　genuine　humour；　has　never　been　seduced　to　overstep　the　limits　of　propriety；　has　never　called　in　the　wretched　auxiliaries　of　obscenity　or　profaneness；　who　trusts　to　nature　and　sentiment　alone；　and　never　misses　of　that　applause　which　Voltaire　and　Sterne　labour　to　produce；　while　honest　merriment　bestows　her　unfading　crown　upon　Cervantes。

Dr。　Johnson　was　a　great　reader　of　French　literature；　and　delighted　exceedingly　in　Boileau's　works。　　Moliere；　I　think；　he　had　hardly　sufficient　taste　of；　and　he　used　to　condemn　me　for　preferring　La　Bruyere　to　the　Duc　de　Rochefoucault；　who；　he　said；　was　the　only　gentleman　writer　who　wrote　like　a　professed　author。　　The　asperity　of　his　harsh　sentences；　each　of　them　a　sentence　of　condemnation；　used　to　disgust　me；　however；　though　it　must　be　owned　that；　among　the　necessaries　of　human　life；　a　rasp　is　reckoned　one　as　well　as　a　razor。

Mr。　Johnson　did　not　like　any　one　who　said　they　were　happy；　or　who　said　any　one　else　was　so。　　〃It　is　all　cant；〃　he　would　cry；　〃the　dog　knows　he　is　miserable　all　the　time。〃　　A　friend　whom　he　loved　exceedingly；　told　him　on　some　occasion；　notwithstanding；　that　his　wife's　sister　was　REALLY　happy；　and　called　upon　the　lady　to　confirm　his　assertion；　which　she　did　somewhat　roundly；　as　we　say；　and　with　an　accent　and　manner　capable　of　offending　Mr。　Johnson；　if　her　position　had　not　been　sufficient；　without　anything　more；　to　put　him　in　very　ill…humour。　　〃If　your　sister…in…law　is　really　the　contented　being　she　professes　herself；　sir；〃　said　he；　〃her　life　gives　the　lie　to　every　research　of　humanity；　for　she　is　happy　without　health；　without　beauty；　without　money；　and　without　understanding。〃　　This　story　he　told　me　himself；　and　when　I　expressed　something　of　the　horror　I　felt；　〃The　same　stupidity；〃　said　he；　〃which　prompted　her　to　extol　felicity　she　never　felt；　hindered　her　from　feeling　what　shocks　you　on　repetition。　　I　tell　you；　the　woman　is　ugly　and　sickly　and　foolish　and　poor；　and　would　it　not　make　a　man　hang　himself　to　hear　such　a　creature　say　it　was　happy？

〃The　life　of　a　sailor　was　also　a　continual　scene　of　danger　and　exertion；〃　he　said；　〃and　the　manner　in　which　time　was　spent　shipboard　would　make　all　who　saw　a　cabin　envy　a　gaol。〃　　The　roughness　of　the　language　used　on　board　a　man…of…war；　where　he　passed　a　week　on　a　visit　to　Captain　Knight；　disgusted　him　terribly。　　He　asked　an　officer　what　some　place　was　called；　and　received　for　answer；　that　it　was　where　the　loplolly　man　kept　his　loplolly；　a　reply　he　considered；　not　unjustly；　as　disrespectful；　gross；　and　ignorant；　for　though　in　the　course　of　these　memoirs　I　have　been　led　to　mention　Dr。　Johnson's　tenderness　towards　POOR　people；　I　do　not　wish　to　mislead　my　readers；　and　make　them　think　he　had　any　delight　in　MEAN　manners　or　coarse　expressions。　　Even　dress　itself；　when　it　resembled　that　of　the　vulgar；　offended　him　exceedingly；　and　when　he　had　condemned　me　many　times　for　not　adorning　my　children　with　more　show　than　I　thought　useful　or　elegant；　I　presented　a　little　girl　to　him　who　came　o'visiting　one　evening　covered　with　shining　ornaments；　to　see　if　he　would　approve　of　the　appearance　she　made。　　When　they　were　gone　home；　〃Well；　sir；〃　said　I；　〃how　did　you　like　little　miss？　　I　hope　she　was　FINE　enough。〃　　〃It　was　the　finery　of　a　beggar；〃　said　he；　〃and　you　know　it　was；　she　looked　like　a　native　of　Cow　Lane　dressed　up　to　be　carried　to　Bartholomew　Fair。〃

His　reprimand　to　another　lady　for　crossing　her　little　child's　handkerchief　before；　and　by　that　operation　dragging　down　its　head　oddly　and　unintentionally；　was　on　the　same　principle。　　〃It　is　the　beggar's　fear　of　cold；〃　said　he；　〃that　prevails　over　such　parents；　and　so　they　pull　the　poor　thing's　head　down；　and　give　it　the　look