The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 08: The Lives of the Poets, Volume IIJohnson, Samuel
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The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. in Nine Volumes, Volume 08: The Lives of the Poets, Volume II
Johnson, Samuel
Poets, English -- 18th century -- Biography; Poets, English -- Early modern, 1500-1700 -- Biography
In the dedication[65], for which he received ten guineas, there is
nothing remarkable. The preface contains a very liberal encomium on the
blooming excellencies of Mr. Theophilus Cibber, which Mr. Savage could
not in the latter part of his life see his friends about to read without
snatching the play out of their hands. The generosity of Mr. Hill did
not end on this occasion; for afterwards, when Mr. Savage's necessities
returned, he encouraged a subscription to a Miscellany of Poems in a
very extraordinary manner, by publishing his story in the Plain
Dealer[66], with some affecting lines, which he asserts to have been
written by Mr. Savage upon the treatment received by him from his
mother, but of which he was himself the author, as Mr. Savage afterwards
declared. These lines, and the paper in which they were inserted, had a
very powerful effect upon all but his mother, whom, by making her
cruelty more publick, they only hardened in her aversion.
Mr. Hill not only promoted the subscription to the Miscellany, but
furnished likewise the greatest part of the poems of which it is
composed, and particularly the Happy Man, which he published as a
specimen.
The subscriptions of those whom these papers should influence to
patronise merit in distress, without any other solicitation, were
directed to be left at Button's coffee-house; and Mr. Savage going
thither a few days afterwards, without expectation of any effect from
his proposal, found to his surprise seventy guineas[67], which had been
sent him in consequence of the compassion excited by Mr. Hill's
pathetick representation.
To this Miscellany he wrote a preface, in which he gives an account of
his mother's cruelty in a very uncommon strain of humour, and with a
gaiety of imagination; which the success of his subscription probably
produced.
The dedication is addressed to the lady Mary Wortley Montague, whom he
flatters without reserve, and, to confess the truth, with very little
art[68]. The same observation may be extended to all his dedications:
his compliments are constrained and violent, heaped together without the
grace of order, or the decency of introduction: he seems to have written
his panegyricks for the perusal only of his patrons, and to have
imagined that he had no other task than to pamper them with praises,
however gross, and that flattery would make its way to the heart,
without the assistance of elegance or invention.
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