صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

mended, is plain to all who have examined the subject.

On his return, on account of some unexplained difficulty as to his re-entering Mr. Hunter's school, he was placed in the school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. Wentworth was master, to whom he became an assistant as well as a pupil. Of his connection with this school and its master, Johnson remarked, in after life:-" Mr. Wentworth was a very able man, but an idle man, and to me very severe; but I cannot blame him much. I was then a big boy; he saw I did not reverence him, and that he should get no honor by me. I had brought enough with me, to carry me through; and all I should get at his school would be ascribed to my own labor, or to my former master. Yet he taught me a great deal." He remained at this school a little over a year, and then returned home.

The next two years were loitered away about Lichfield, without purpose or effort. His father, embarrassed by his declining affairs, seems to have been at a loss what to do with him. The son discovered an almost total inadaptation for business, and was scolded by the father for his want of application. He had no settled plan of life, nor did he appear to take much thought for the future, but floated carelessly along, regardless as to whither the tide of affairs might carry him. He however read a great deal-not for the sake of instruction, but for occupation and amusement. He had no plan by which books were chosen, but read whatever fancy directed him to, or accident brought under his notice. By clambering to the upper shelf in his father's store, in search of some apples, that he suspected his brother had hidden behind the books, he was brought into contact with a folio volume of Petrarch, and this accident led to the perusal of the volume, and of course, to an appreciating acquaintance with the great restorer of learning. Of his attainments during these two years of comparative idleness, he remarked :-" In this irregular manner I had looked into a great many books which were not commonly known at the University, where they seldom read any books but what are put into their hands by the tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, I was said, by my tutor, to be the best qualified that he had ever known to come there." To such a mind

as Johnson's, two years spent lounging about a bookstore, could not be wholly lost. With his prodigious memory and powers of analysis, it may be doubted, whether an extensive course of desultory reading was less valuable than a more systematic method of study would have been. It is certain that in no other portion of his juvenile history, did he foreshadow his future self so faithfully as in this. It was probably through despair of ever making him even a respectable tradesman, that the elder Johnson, notwithstanding his limited means, determined to give his son a university education. To meet directly the expense of such an undertaking, was beyond his ability; but an expedient was found out and adopted.

The son of a neighboring gentleman, Mr. Andrew Corbett, who had been a schoolmate of Johnson's, was about to proceed to the university, when it was arranged that the two lads should accompany each other, and be at Mr. Corbett's expense, and that Johnson should act as assistant to his more favored companion. He was accordingly entered a commoner of Pembroke College, on the 31st of October, 1728, being then in his nineteenth year. This was an occasion of much interest to the elder Johnson, in whom a father's hopes and fears conflicted violently as to this son. He knew something of his son's aptitude for learning, and also his utter want of adaptation for getting forward in the world by any of the humbler but more available methods. He also knew his constitutional inertness, and yet had not failed to perceive that his whole soul was instinct with an energy which emulation could call into activity. Having accompanied him to Oxford, Mr. Johnson found means to have him introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor, to whom he commended the youth as "a good scholar and poet, and a writer of Latin verses." His figure and manners were strongly rustic, and seemed but faintly to second the encomiums given by his father. He demeaned himself with much modesty in the presence of the learned persons to whom he was thus suddenly introduced, and for some time kept a respectful silence; but at length some new turn in the conversation aroused him, when joining in it, he quoted Macrobius so appropriately as to equally surprise and delight his learned auditors.

[graphic][merged small]

Of his career in college, but very partial accounts remain. His tutor was a man of many excellences, but of only moderate abilities; and Johnson, with that kind of superciliousness that sometimes affects young men of real or fancied superiority, conceived and manifested great contempt for him. He had never subjected himself to any systematic discipline, and when he came to college he continued to pursue much the same listless and impulsive course. Among his favorite amusements, was sliding upon the ice that overlaid Christ Church meadow, during the winter; and when this exercise invited him, the lectures of his tutor were quite neglected. Having been called to account and mulcted for his delinquencies, he complained bitterly to his tutor, that he had "sconced him two-pence for nonattendance at a lecture not worth a penny." In later years, Johnson expressed great respect and esteem for his former tutor; though he confessed that he profited but little by his instructions, and that it was his moral worth, rather than his learning, that commanded his respect.

A slight incident gave the first occasion for the exhibition of the superiority of his genius. Having failed to produce a required college exercise for the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, which was observed with great solemnity at Pembroke College, he handed his tutor an apology for his

neglect, written in Latin verse, in which he feigned that the muse had visited him in his sleep, and forbidden him meddling with politics. This unmeaning production gave Jorden a very exalted opinion of both his genius and attainments. He accordingly asked him to produce for the following Christmas exercise, a Latin translation of Pope's Messiah. With this requirement he complied; and such was the character of the production, that it procured him much applause, and established his reputation for scholarship in the college. It is reported that when this version of his most celebrated ode was shown to Pope, he expressed a very high approbation of it, declaring that it would be a question for posterity, which was the original and which the translation.

While Johnson was yet residing at Oxford, he began to give decided indications of a morbid condition of the brain and nervous system. His father had long been remarkable for certain peculiarities of manner, which were thought to arise from, or to be in some way connected with, his physical constitution; and this tendency of the system seems to have been inherited by the son, in even an aggravated degree. To this cause may doubtless be ascribed the aimless impulsiveness that had hitherto characterized him, and which followed him in some form as long as he lived. During his

twentieth or twenty-first year-
there is some obscurity as to the
date this morbid state of his system
became more decidedly manifest than
had been the case at any former time.
While spending a vacation at Lich-
field, he became the victim of a
terrible hypochondria, producing the
utmost gloominess and dejection,
and rendering him almost intolerably
fretful and impatient. From this
disorder he was never entirely re-
leased, though its maliginity was
greatly abated, and its remaining
power overborne by the increasing
self-controlling energy of a virtuous
and noble spirit. It followed him
as his evil genius through life, and
has left its impress, both for good
and for evil, upon the productions of
his intellect. Whether we shall call
this a mental or a bodily disorder, is
perhaps a curious rather than a prac-
tical question. The mysterious con-
nection of mind and body, and their mu- | veneration."
tual action and re-actions, are obvious
facts, but their philosophy remains in-
volved in great obscurity.

No one was more fully aware of the morbid tendencies of his mind than Johnson himself. He also used every effort that afforded the least hope of success to dispel or relieve it. He subjected himself to violent bodily exercise, and would frequently walk to Birmingham and back again; but apparently without deriving any advantage from it. To the direct tendency of the disorder, was soon added the effect of a terrible apprehension that he was about to become insane. Yet, at this very time, his intellect was clear and powerful as ever. He carefully noted all the symptoms of his case, and detailed them in a thesis, written in Latin, which he prepared for the use of his physician, Dr. Swinfen, a paper that evinced in an admirable degree acuteness, research, and eloquence. But at length the healthful tendencies of his system triumphed over the morbid, and the threatened wreck of the noblest of intellects was averted. After a somewhat protracted absence, he returned to Oxford, and resumed his studies with increased diligence and steadiness. "His apartment in Pembroke College," says Boswell," was over the gateway, on the second floor. The enthusiast of learning will ever contemplate it with

[graphic]

PEMBROKE COLLEGE GATEWAY.

Of the studies pursued by Johnson while in college, no very definite account is given. He disliked mathematics, and paid but little attention to physics. He excelled in metaphysics, though even in that department he read but little. He was a voracious reader of poetry and light literature, though he would seldom read any but short pieces to the end. But living among learned men, and necessarily hearing much on all subjects of learning, and forgetting nothing that he heard, he became more learned without application, than were usually the attainments of the most diligent.

Of his intercourse with his fellowstudents, it is said that he "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay and frolicsome fellow, and passed there the happiest portion of his life." But superficial appearances in such matters are often fallacious. Of this same period he declared himself, that it was bitterness which they mistook for frolic. I was miserably poor, and I thought to fight my way by my literature and my wit; so I disregarded all power and all authority." It is further related by one of his early associates, that "he was generally seen lounging at the college gate, with a circle of young students around him, whom he was entertaining with wit, and keeping from their studies, if not spiriting them up to rebellion against the college discipline

which, in his mature years, he so much extolled." He formed but few, if any, intimate friendships while in the university, though he always retained a high regard for Pembroke College.

His religious history during this period of his life, is too important to be passed over unnoticed. We have seen that deep and salutary impressions were made upon his mind at a very early period, by the instructions of his mother. These instructions were followed by others as judged suitable; but it would seem not always with equally good success. His mother confined him at home on Sundays, (after Church probably,) and compelled him to read the "Whole Duty of Man," with which he was very little interested, and from which very little good was obtained. His experience in this matter, taught him the necessity of so mingling incidental allurements with grave religious instructions, that those should prove incentives to attention while these shall make their solutary impressions on the heart.

At nine years old a mere incident led him to become a neglecter of public worship. Their own parish church being shut up for some time, undergoing repairs, the family were left to seek accommodations elsewhere; but rather than do this, young Johnson chose to spend the Sabbath in the fields, reading. A dislike to the duty of attending church was thus formed, that continued to trouble him, long after duty had become his sole rule of action in all such matters.

Of a somewhat later period of his life he remarks, "I became a sort of lax talker against religion, for I did not much think against it; and this lasted till I went to Oxford, where it would not be suffered. At Oxford a change was effected in his views which resulted at length in a complete revolution in his character, by reading Law's "Serious Call to a Holy Life." | He began reading the book without any serious purpose; but soon found it more than a match for his sophistry. His pride of intellect would not allow him to abandon the contest; and so he continued to read, and unconsciously to be overcome by the eloquence of divine truth.

"This instance," remarks one of Johnson's biographers, “ of such a mind being first disposed, by an unexpected incident, to think with anxiety of the momentous VOL. I, No. 5.—CC

concerns of eternity, and of what he should do to be saved,' may forever be placed in opposition to the superficial and sometimes profane contempt that has been thrown upon those occasional impressions which it is certain many Christians have experienced." Dr. Johnson stands forth not only a witness of the adaptation of the Christian faith to the most exalted understandings, but also of the power of divine grace to arrest, by feeble means, the erring spirit, and lead it into captivity to itself. From this time his mind took that decidedly religious tendency which thenceforward became a distinguishing trait in his character.

The whole period, from Johnson's entrance at college to his final removal, extended over nearly three years; but of this time a considerable portion was spent at home. Two causes united to interrupt his course at the university, the mental disease already alluded to, and pecuniary embarrassment, which, after the departure of young Corbett, near the close of the second year, pressed heavily upon him, and aggravated his "vile melancholy." His name was removed from the books of Pembroke College, October 8, 1731, though his connection with that body had virtually terminated some months before. A cloud rests upon this period of Johnson's history, that none of his biographers have seemed willing to penetrate. One of them has remarked that "there are here two important years of his life to be accounted for; and that they were not pleasantly or profitably spent, may be inferred from the silence of Johnson and all his friends about them." It is painfully interesting to contemplate such a proud intellect whirling over the vortex of madness, and thence towering upward to its own empyrean.

A TEACHER BY EXAMPLE.-I once escaped at table the well-meant persecutions of the kind-hearted wife of a medical friend, from whom, ever and anon, came the inquiry of what I would take next? This had been so often repeated, that I had begun to look round, fearing that my character, as a teacher by example, might suffer, and replied that, "If she pleased, I would take breath." It was saucy and ungrateful, but it was good-naturedly received and understood. - Sir James Eyre.

THE ALCHEMISTS.*

lished at Lyons, in 1557. His Mirror of Alchemy was also published in the French

N our preceding article we brought in the same year, and in Paris in 1612,

[ocr errors]

Raymond Lulli. This odd scientific de- Raymond Lulli.
lusion seized upon a mind of nobler
character than his.

ROGER BACON.

ROGER BACON firmly believed in the philosopher's stone, and spent much of his time in search of it. His example helped to render all the learned men of the time more convinced of its practicability, and more eager in the pursuit. He was born at Ilchester, England, in the year 1214. He studied for some time in the University of Oxford, and afterward in that of Paris, in which he received the degree of doctor of divinity. Returning to England in 1240, he became a monk of the order of St. Francis. He was by far the most learned man of his age; and his acquirements were so much above the comprehension of his cotemporaries, that they could only account for them by supposing that he was indebted for them to the Devil. To him, and apparently to him only, among all the inquiring spirits of the time, were known the properties of the concave and convex lens. He also invented the magic-lantern,-that pretty plaything of modern days, which acquired for him a reputation that embittered his life. In a history of alchemy, the name of this great man cannot be omitted, although, un- | like many others, he only made it secondary to other pursuits. The love of universal knowledge that filled his mind, would not allow him to neglect one branch of science, of which neither he nor the world could yet see the absurdity. He made ample amends for his time lost in this pursuit by his knowledge of physics, and his acquaintance with astronomy. The telescope, burning-glasses, and gunpowder, are discoveries which may well carry his fame to the remotest time, and make the world blind to the one spot of folly-the diagnosis of the age in which he lived, and the circumstances by which he was surrounded. His treatise on the Admirable Power of Art and Nature in the Production of the Philosopher's Stone, was translated into French by Girard de Tormes, and pub

The above article is condensed from Mackay's Memoirs of Delusions.

NICHOLAS FLAMEL.

THE story of this alchemist, as handed down by tradition, and enshrined in the pages of Lenglet du Fresnoy, is not a little marvelous. He was born at Pontoise, of a poor but respectable family, at the end of the thirteenth, or beginning of the fourteenth century. Having no patrimony, he set out for Paris at an early age, to try his fortune as a public scribe. He had received a good education, was well skilled in the learned languages, and was an excellent penman. He soon procured occupation as a letter-writer and copyist, and used to sit at the corner of the Rue de Marivaux, and practice his calling; but he hardly made profit enough to keep body and soul together. To mend his fortunes he tried poetry; but this was a more wretched occupation still. As a transcriber he had at least gained bread and cheese; but his rhymes were not worth a crust. He then tried painting, with as little success; and, as a last resource, began to search for the philosopher's stone and tell fortunes. This was a happier idea; he soon increased in substance, and had wherewithal to live comfortably. therefore took unto himself his wife Petronella, and began to save money; but continued to all outward appearance as poor and miserable as before. In the course of a few years he became desperately addicted to the study of alchemy; and thought of nothing but the philosopher's stone, the elixir of life, and the universal alkahest. In the year 1257, he bought by chance an old book for two florins, which soon became his sole study. It was written with a steel instrument upon the bark of trees, and contained twenty-one, or, as he himself always expressed it, three-times-seven leaves. The writing was very elegant, and in the Latin language. Each seventh leaf contained a picture and no writing. On the first of these was a serpent swallowing rods; on the second, a cross with a serpent crucified; and on the third, the representation of a desert, in the midst of which was a fountain, with serpents crawling from side to side. It purported

He

« السابقةمتابعة »