ODE BY Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON TO Mrs. THRALE.
[PRICE ONE SHILLING.]
[Entered at Stationers hall.]
ODE BY DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON TO MRS. THRALE, UPON THEIR SUPPOSED APPROACHING NUPTIALS.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR R. FAULDER, NEW-BOND-STREET. M DCC LXXXIV.
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR.
[]MR. HENRY THRALE, brewer, in the borough of Southwark (I ſay it without flattery, or inte⯑reſted hopes of reward from his ſurviving relict and daughters), was one of the moſt eminent and opulent traders that England ever had. He was, moreover, a well-built, ſtout man, in his perſon. His wife, Mrs. Heſter Lynch, whoſe maiden name was Saluſbury, was of creditable Welch extraction. She was rather a little woman, but ſmart, of pregnant parts, and ſome ſhare of book-learning. They kept a very plentiful table, both for meat and drink, to which thoſe who are called Wits, and alſo many ingenious artiſts, gladly repaired as to a convenient houſe of call, where they had nothing to pay, except their court to Mrs. Thrale, who doubtleſs deſerved, while ſhe was flattered by their compliments. The moſt diſtinguiſhed of them, and, as one may ſay, the foreman of the whole, was Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, the celebrated Lichfield au⯑thour, who wrote an Engliſh Dictionary, and ſeveral works of a good moral tendency, and was famous, be⯑ſides, for ſhrewd ſayings and lively jokes. He was a very large man, and by no means well-looking, but rather the contrary; neither was he neat and cleanly in his perſon and dreſs. He was, notwithſtanding, a [6] no ſmall favourite with Mrs. Thrale, both in her huſ⯑band's life-time, and for ſome ſhort while after; and from a collection of their letters, which is extant, and has been put forth in print by herſelf, it appears that there was no over-delicate niceneſs, but truly the plaineſt familiarity between them; as witneſs theſe, and the like paſſages:—"I hope, in time, to be like the great bull." lett. 34.—"Dr. Taylor deſires always to have his compliments ſent. He is, in his uſual way, very buſy getting a bull to his cows, and a dog to his bitches. Old Shakeſpeare is dead, and he wants to buy another horſe to his mares." lett. 180.—"You muſt take the chance of finding me, better or worſe. This you may know at preſent, that my affection for you is not diminiſhed, and my expectation from you is increaſed." lett. 277.—"I am harraſſed by a very diſa⯑greeable operation of the cantharides, which I am endea⯑vouring to control by copious dilution." lett. 303.—"On the 19th of laſt month I evacuated twenty pints of water." lett. 342.
Mr. Thrale and his wife had a family of five daugh⯑ters, to whom they did not grudge to give every piece of genteel education. Signor Baretti was entertained in the houſe, at bed and board, to teach them the Italian tongue; and Signor Piozzi, it is believed, was liberally rewarded for teaching them to ſing, and play on the harpſichord. Mrs. Thrale had not an ear, as the ſaying is, but ſhe had an eye to this her daughter's muſic⯑maſter, [7] who, it appears, by her ſaid publication, was permitted to love her. "Piozzi, I find, is coming, and when he comes, and I come, you will have two about you that love you." lett. 275. This was in her widowhood; and indeed it is plain that Dr. Samuel Johnſon himſelf had then alſo pretenſions to her; the diſappointment of which, by her preference of Signor Piozzi, whom ſhe afterwards married, no doubt con⯑tributed, with other conſiderations, to his writing that ſevere anſwer on her informing him of her reſolution, which anſwer ſhe has very prudently ſuppreſſed.
Indeed, recently after the death of Mr. Henry Thrale, there were not wanting many who conjectured that a matrimonial union would take place between the widow and Dr. Samuel Johnſon; and ſome went ſo far as to aſſert, that it was his determined purpoſe, not only to carry on the buſineſs under the firm of the brewery, but even to aſſume the name and arms of Thrale. Upon this foundation, and no better, the bell⯑man, or ſome other ſuch rhymſter of the Borough, bantered the buſineſs in the following homely lines:
[8] Whether it was that a copy of this balderdaſh reached Dr. Samuel Johnſon, and made him anxious leſt poſ⯑terity ſhould look upon his tender paſſion as of a very coarſe and vulgar nature, or whether he was merely incited by her blandiſhments to give a ſpecimen of his juvenile vivacity, or from whatever other cauſe, it would ſeem, that in the confidence of their being ſpee⯑dily joined in marriage, he ſent her the following wed⯑ding verſes; of which, it is probable, ſhe gave a copy to Signor Baretti, or to ſome other perſon with whom ſhe at that time was intimate.
The ſame having, by ſome ſtrange chance, fallen into my hands, I thought I could not do better than lay them before the publick.
With reſpect to their being certainly written by Dr. Samuel Johnſon, I honeſtly confeſs I am no judge of ſuch matters, and therefore will not pretend to ſay any thing of my own knowledge upon that head. But I am well aſſured by a perſon of ſkill, that they have the undoubted ſterling mark, and that no other man in the kingdom could make them but himſelf.
ARGUMENT.
[]THE Poet, pleaſed with the reminiſcence of his poetical powers, prepares to concentrate them in his Miſtreſs—He proſtrates his dignity to her in verſatility of character—Plumes himſelf on his fancied felicity, and, by a bold image, equal to any in Anacreon, at once perſonifies, and perſonates that Beer which was the glory of her houſe—Touches on his jealouſy of Signor Piozzi—Exults in his ſuppoſed victory over his rival—Deſcribes the congratulations on the nuptials be⯑tween him and his deareſt dear lady; but characteriſtically hints at the malignity of human nature—Repreſents the envy with which their happineſs is beheld—Weary of continence, ſolaces himſelf with the proſpect of future enjoyment—Paints it with vigorous ſtrokes and glowing colours—Takes care to give it the delicate ſanction of ſentiment—Aſſumes a reflex honour, by projecting illuſtrious matches for his lady's daugh⯑ters by her firſt huſband; but maintains his own ſuperiority, by figuring himſelf the father of an heir male—Concludes, in mythological enthuſiaſm, that he is greater than Atlas.
ODE.
[]- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3613 Ode by Dr Samuel Johnson to Mrs Thrale upon their supposed approaching nuptials. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-609E-6