Johnson’s Fear of Damnation

From The Life of Johnson:

Mr. Henderson, with whom I had sauntered in the venerable walks of Merton-College, and found him a very learned and pious man, supped with us. Dr. Johnson surprised him not a little, by acknowledging with a look of horrour, that he was much oppressed by the fear of death. The amiable Dr. Adams suggested that GOD was infinitely good. JOHNSON. “That he is infinitely good, as far as the perfection of his nature will allow, I certainly believe; but it is necessary for good upon the whole, that individuals should be punished. As to an individual, therefore, he is not infinitely good; and as I cannot be sure that I have fulfilled the conditions on which salvation is granted, I am afraid I may be one of those who shall be damned.” (looking dismally.) DR. ADAMS. “What do you mean by damned!" JOHNSON. (passionately and loudly) “Sent to Hell, Sir, and punished everlastingly.” DR. ADAMS. “I don’t believe that doctrine.” JOHNSON. “Hold, Sir, do you believe that some will be punished at all?" DR. ADAMS. “Being excluded from Heaven will be a punishment: yet there may be no great positive suffering.” JOHNSON. “Well, Sir; but, if you admit any degree of punishment, there is an end of your argument for infinite goodness simply considered; for, infinite goodness would inflict no punishment whatever. There is no infinite goodness physically considered; morally there is.” BOSWELL. “But may not a man attain to such a degree of hope as not to be uneasy from the fear of death?" JOHNSON. “A man may have such a degree of hope as to keep him quiet. You see I am not quiet, from the vehemency with which I talk; but I do not despair.” MRS. ADAMS. “You seem, Sir, to forget the merits of our Redeemer.” JOHNSON. “Madam, I do not forget the merits of my Redeemer; but my Redeemer has said that he will set some on his right hand and some on his left.” — He was in gloomy agitation, and said, “I’ll have no more on’t.” — If what has now been stated should be urged by the enemies of Christianity, as if its influence on the mind were not benignant, let it be remembered, that Johnson’s temperament was melancholy, of which such direful apprehensions of futurity are often a common effect. We shall presently see, that when he approached nearer to his awful change, his mind became tranquil, and he exhibited as much fortitude as becomes a thinking man in that situation.

From the subject of death we passed to discourse of life whether it was upon the whole more happy or miserable. Johnson was decidedly for the balance of misery: in confirmation of which I maintained, that no man would choose to lead over again the life which he had experienced. Johnson acceded to that opinion in the strongest terms. This is an enquiry often made; and its being a subject of disquisition is a proof that much misery presses upon human feelings; for those who are conscious of a felicity of existence, would never hesitate to accept of a repetition of it. I have met with very few who would. I have heard Mr. Burke make use of a very ingenious and plausible argument on this subject; “Every man (said he,) would lead his life over again; for, every man is willing to go on and take an addition to his life, which, as he grows older, he has no reason to think will be better, or even so good as what has preceded.” I imagine, however, the truth is, that there is a deceitful hope that the next part of life will be free from the pains, and anxieties, and sorrows, which we have already felt. We are for wise purposes “Condemn’d to Hope’s delusive mine,” as Johnson finely says; and I may also quote the celebrated lines of Dryden, equally philosophical and poetical:

“When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat,
Yet fool’d with hope, men favour the deceit;
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay;
To-morrow’s falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and while it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again;
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And from the dregs of life think to receive,
What the first sprightly running could not give.”

It was observed to Dr. Johnson, that it seemed strange that he, who has so often delighted his company by his lively and brilliant conversation, should say he was miserable. JOHNSON. “Alas! it is all outside; I may be cracking my joke, and cursing the sun. Sun, how I hate thy beams!“ I knew not well what to think of this declaration; whether to hold it as a genuine picture of his mind, or as the effect of his persuading himself contrary to fact, that the position which he had assumed as to human unhappiness, was true. We may apply to him a sentence in Mr. Greville’s “Maxims, Characters, and Reflections;" a book which is entitled to much more praise than it has received: “ARISTARCHUS is charming: how full of knowledge, of sense, of sentiment. You get him with difficulty to your supper; and after having delighted every body and himself for a few hours, he is obliged to return home: — he is finishing his treatise, to prove that unhappiness is the portion of man.”