There was a loud explosion in London’s Fleet Street on a summer night. People found it difficult to sleep because of the noise. Nobody knew whether it was a riot or a murder. Some people peeped through their upstair windows to see what was happening. They saw a man clasping a post on the pavement. His hat was on the ground. His body was subject to violent convulsions. Someone murmured that he was a madman and went back to bed. However, he made a mistake. The writhing figure was Samuel Johnson. The noise was his loud laughter!
According to James Boswell, his pupil and friend, Johnson was laughing like a rhinoceros. But Johnson was a great man in many ways. He was great of body, mind, and soul. Now we know that he has enriched the world with his works, wit and life. If you visit Fleet Street today, you will hear his laughter echoing.
Out of all the authors, both ancient and modern, Dr Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) reigns supreme for more than one reason. Born in the 18th century in England, Johnson represented the Golden Age of English literature along with Edmund Burke, Reynolds, Gibbon, Goldsmith and Adam Smith. His wit was greater than his writing. He was also a great conversationalist. He was a genius among English authors.
Bookseller’s son
Johnson was quite an unusual man who had three companions in his life. They were Boswell, his wife, and poverty. When he was born in September 1709 at Lichfield, his father was a bookseller. Little Johnson was afflicted with scrofula or the King’s disease for which there was no cure.
However, there was a belief that a king’s or a queen’s touch would heal such patients. Johnson was eventually brought to London to be touched by Queen Anne. The queen touched him but the patient did not recover from the disease. However, scrofula disfigured his face and affected an eye.
Young Johnson was a lazy child but he had a great capacity for learning. He started reading the books in his father’s bookshop and became quite knowledgeable on various subjects. With all his disabilities, Johnson was sent to Oxford University. As he was in indigent circumstances, a friend agreed to provide money for his studies. However, he did not keep his promise and Johnson had to leave the university without a degree. There were many incidents that took place at the university while he was an undergraduate. Once, he surprised his lecturer by quoting from a little known Latin text. On another day a tutor asked him why he was absent for lectures. Johnson said, “I was sliding in Christ Church meadow.” When Boswell heard of the incident, he told Johnson, “That, Sir, was great fortitude of mind.” Johnson corrected him immediately by saying, “No, Sir, stark insensibility.”
Worn-out shoes
Johnson did not attend lectures because his feet showed through his shoes. Somebody who saw his worn-out shoes left a brand new pair at his door, but Johnson threw them away angrily.
As he had no regular income, Johnson started teaching at Edial near Lichfield. According to his biographer, he had only three students. Meanwhile, Johnson fell in love with a widow – Mrs Porter – who was very much older than he. Even on the wedding day, he had a tiff with his wife. She thought that a wife should treat her husband like a dog. He said, “At first she told me that I rode too fast, and she could not keep up with me, and, when I rode a little slower, she passed me, and complained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the slave of caprice; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. I therefore pushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. The road lay between two hedges, so I was sure she could not miss it; and I contrived that she should soon come up with me. When she did, I observed her to be in tears.” With many ups and downs in life, Johnson proved himself to be a good husband and their marriage lasted until her death.
As he could not find students to teach, he turned to journalism. In 1738 he published “London, Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal.” It laid the foundation for his fame as an author. As he was struggling to earn money, he had to grapple with many health issues. In midlife he developed asthma for which there was no remedy.
Journalist
As a journalist he wrote parliamentary reports, essays, and pamphlets. His ‘Life of Richard Savage’ (1744) was a landmark in his writing career. After three years, he began to write the ‘Dictionary of the English Language’ which made him immortal. While everyone was praising his dictionary, a woman asked him why he had made a wrong definition in it. He said, “Ignorance, madam, pure ignorance.” His definition of ‘oats’ in the dictionary is quite amusing: “A grain which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.” Today most workers are asking for pension. According to Johnson, “Pension is an allowance made to anyone without an equivalent. In England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a State hireling for treason to his country.”
Johnson was a person of blunt, gruff, outspoken and conservative tastes at a time when it was fashionable to be elegant and to hold enlightened views. Although he was a supporter of the Tories, in his dictionary he defined a Tory as a supporter of “the ancient constitution of the state and of the traditions of the church of England.” Like Alexander Pope who lived before him, Johnson was widely influential as a critic who set standards of literary taste. After his death, his admirer and younger friend James Boswell published a chatty and much-read biography of the great man. We should be grateful to Boswell for his biography of Johnson. Here is what he says about Johnson at home.
“His brown suit of clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little, shrivelled, unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his shirt neck and knees of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill drawn up; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were forgotten the moment he began to talk.”
Alchemist
When he began to talk, he became a magician and an alchemist. In spite of his poverty, he looked after many indigent friends and dependants. When someone objected to his generosity of giving money to beggars by saying, “What signifies giving halfpennies to common beggars? They only lay it out in gin and tobacco,” Johnson retorted, “And why should they be denied such sweetness of their existence?”
With his economic and physical problems, Johnson could roar with laughter. He loved eating, speed, and pretty women. He said, “If I had no duties, and no reference to futurity, I would spend my life driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman; but she would have to be one that could understand me and would add something to the conversation.”
It is a pity that most modern readers have a scanty knowledge of Johnson and his works. Their tendency to read modern authors is appreciable, but no other author can come close to Johnson’s stature. His language coupled with wit will continue to keep us in a state of happiness and modest pride.