tsr JOHNS O N. 
ftroke of the palfy; fo fudden and Co violent, that it 
awakened him out of a fotind fleep, and rendered him for 
a ffiort time fpeechlefs. As ufual, his recourfe under this 
affliction was to piety, which in him was conftant, fin- 
cete, and fervent: He tried to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, 
firft in Engliffi, then in Latin, and afterwards in Greek ; 
but fucceeded only in the laft attempt; immediately after 
which he was again deprived of the power of'articulation. 
From this alarming attack he recovered with wonderful 
quicknefs, but it left behind feme prefages of an hydropic 
affeCtion; and he was foon afterwards fieized with a fpaf- 
tnodic atthma of fuch violence that he was confined to 
the houfe in great pain, while his dropfy increafed, not- 
withftanding ail the efforts of the mod: eminent phyficians 
in London and Edinburgh. He had, however, fuch an 
interval of eafe as enabled him in the fummer 1784 to vifit 
his friends at Oxford, Litchfield, and Aftibourne in Der- 
byfflire. The Romifii religion being intfoduced one day 
as the topic of converfation when he was in the houfe of 
Dr. Adams, Johnfon faid, “If you join the papilts exter¬ 
nally, they will not interrogate you ftriCtly as to your be¬ 
lief in their tenets. No reafoning papift believes every 
article of their faith. There is one fide on which a good 
man might be perfuaded to embrace it: a good man of a 
timorous difpofition, in great doubt of his acceptance 
with God, and pretty credulous, might be glad of a church 
where there are fo many helps to go to heaven. I would 
be a papiit if I could. I have fear enough; but an ob- 
ftinate rationality prevents me. I (hall never be a papift, 
unlefs on the near approach of death, of which I have 
very great terror.” His conftant dread of death was in¬ 
deed fo great, that it aftonifhed all who had accefs to know 
the piety of his mind and the virtues of his life. At¬ 
tempts have been made to account for it in various ways; 
but doubtlefs that is the true account which is given in 
the 0.1 la Podrida, by an elegant and pious writer, who 
now adorns a high Itation in the church of England : 
“'That he fhould not be confcious of the abilities with 
which Providence had bieffed him was impoffible. He 
felt his own powers : he felt what he was capable of hav¬ 
ing performed; and he faw how little, comparatively 
(peaking, he had performed. Hence his apprehenfion on 
the near profpeCt of the account to be made, viewed 
through the medium of conftitutional and morbid melan¬ 
choly, which often excluded from his fight the bright 
beams of divine mercy.” 
Such was the tenacity with which he clung to life, that 
he expreffed a great defire to feek amendment in the cli¬ 
mate of Italy. Some officious friends endeavoured to 
render this fcheme feafible by an application to the mi- 
nifter for an increafe of his penfion. It was made with¬ 
out his knowledge; but he appears to have been morti¬ 
fied and difappointed by its want of fuccefs. The cir- 
cumftances, however, gave occafion to very generous pe¬ 
cuniary offers from two perfons, which it was honourable 
to him to receive, but might have been improper to ac¬ 
cept. Indeed he had no medical encouragement to make 
the defined trial, and his beft friends rather wiflied to pre¬ 
pare him for the inevitable termination. Still unable to 
reconcile himfelf to the thought of dying, he faid to the 
furgeon, who was making (light fcarifications in his fwol- 
len legs, “ Deeper ! deeper ! I want length of life, and you 
are afraid of giving me pain, which I do not value ;” and 
he afterwards with his own hand multiplied the punc¬ 
tures made for this purpofe. Devotion is faid, however, 
to have (lied its tranquillity over the clofing fcene, which 
took place on December 13, 1785, in the feventy-fifth year 
of his age. His remains, attended by a refpeCtable con- 
courfe of friends, were interred in Weftminfter-abbey, 
and a momumental ftatue has fince been placed to his 
memory in St. Paul’s cathedral. He left his property, a 
few legacies excepted, to a faithful black fervant who had 
long lived with him. 
Dr. Johnfon at the time of his death, was undoubtedly 
the moll confpicuous literary character of his country j 
nor is there, perhaps, an inftance of a private man of !et^ 
ters in England whofe deceafe was marked by the appear-! 
ance of fo many laudatory and biographical tribute's to 
his public reputation. His works were publiffied collec¬ 
tively, with a copious life of the author, in eleven vo¬ 
lumes oCtavo, by fir John Hawkins, 1787. A new edi¬ 
tion, in twelve volumes, with a'Life by Mr. Murphy, was 
given in 1794. Of the converfations and oral dictates of 
JoVnfon, which are almoft equally curious difplays of his 
mental powers, a mod copious collection has been offered 
to the world in the very entertaining volumes of Mr. Bof- 
well, who minuted down all his memorabilia with the re- 
reverential fidelity of a difciple. Mrs. Piozzi alfo, who, 
when the wife of Mr. Thrale, devoted much time and at¬ 
tention to her gueft, has painted his domeftic manners 
with a lively pencil. ' 
To draw a juft character of this eminent and excellent 
man would require no common talents: we muff there¬ 
fore content ourfelves with laying before our readers a 
very ffiort (ketch. His ftature was tall, his limbs were 
large, his ftrength was more than common, and his acti¬ 
vity in early life had been greater than fuch a form gave 
reafon to expect ; but he was fubjeCt to an infirmity of 
the convulfive kind, refembling the diftemper called St. 
Vitus’s dance; and he had the feeds of fo many difeafes 
fown in his conftitution, that a ffiort time before his death 
he declared that he hardly remembered to have paffed one 
day wholly free from pain. He poffeffed very extraordi¬ 
nary powers of underltanding ; which were much culti¬ 
vated by reading, and (till more by meditation and re¬ 
flection. His memory was remarkably retentive, his ima¬ 
gination uncommonly vigorous, and his judgment keen 
and penetrating. He read with great rapidity, retained 
with wonderful exactnefs what he fo eafily collected, and 
poffeffed the power of reducing to order and fyltem the 
(battered hints on any fubjeCt which he had gathered froip 
different books. It would not perhaps be fafe to claim 
for him the higheft place, among his contemporaries, in 
any fingle department of literature ; but, to ufe one of his 
own expreffions, he brought more mind to every fubjeCt, 
and had a greater variety of knowledge ready for all occa- 
fions, than any other man that could be eafily named. 
Though prone to fuperftition, he was in all other refpecfs 
fo remarkably incredulous, that Hogarth faid, while John¬ 
fon firmly believed the Bible, he (eemed determined to 
believe nothing but the Bible. Of the importance of re¬ 
ligion he had a ftrong fenfe, and his zeal for its interefts 
were always awake, fo that profanenefs of every kind was 
abaffied in his prefence. The fame energy which was dis¬ 
played in his literary productions, wa ~5 exhibited alfo in 
his converfation, which was various, ftriking, and inftruc- 
tive; like the (age in Raflelas/ he fpoke, and attention 
watched his lips; he reafoned, and conviction clofed his 
periods; when he pleafed, he could be the greateft fophift 
that ever contended in.the lilts of declamation ; and per¬ 
haps no man ever equalled him in nervous and pointed 
repartees.^ But his veracity, from the moft trivial to the 
mod folemn occafions, was drift even to feverity; he 
fcorned to embelliffi a (lory with fictitious circumftances ; 
for what is not a reprefentation of reality, he ufed to fay, 
is not worthy of our attention. As his purfe and his 
houfe were ever open to the indigent, fo was his heart 
tender to thofe who wanted relief, and his foul was fuf- 
ceptible of gratitude and every kind impreffion. He had 
a rougbnefs in his manner which fubdued the fancy and 
terrified the meek; but it was only ip his manner-, for no 
man was more loved than Johnfon was by thofe who knew 
him ; and his works will be read with veneration for their 
author as long as the language in which they are written 
(hall be underftood ; for, as Mr. Cumberland obferves, 
“ though the marble (hall preferve for ages the exaCt re- 
femblance of his form and features, his own ftrong pen 
lias pictured out a tranfeript of his mind, that (hall out¬ 
live that, and the very language which he laboured to 
perpetuate. Johnfori’s beft days were dark, and only 
* when 
