Oils for the sick and dying, the oil for signing with the Cross at Baptism and the oil of chrism at the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Bantry Bay, Co Cork, last weekend, including attending the Eucharist in the parish church in Bantry on Trinity Sunday [22 May 2016].
Of course, Trinity Sunday is the Patronal Festival of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, which is formally known as the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity.
I missed the annual lunch of the Friends of Christ Cathedral, which took place in the crypt after the Cathedral Eucharist, and the annual general meeting of the Friends, which took place in the Chapter Room afterwards.
Lesley Rue has produced a new edition of the Friends News, for this season (Vol 34, No 1, Spring/Summer 2016). This half-page report is published on page 10:
Faithful stewards of the mysteries of God at
the Chrism Eucharist on Maundy Thursday
The Maundy Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, is a solemn part of the Holy Week liturgies during Holy Week each year.
At this Chrism Eucharist, the Archbishop, the priests and deacons and the lay ministers of the dioceses of Dublin and Glendalough renew their commitments to ministry made at their consecration, ordination or commissioning.
I was ordained priest in 2001 and ordained deacon in 2000, and had also been commissioned a diocesan reader before that in 1994. Each year, the Chrism Eucharist is a reminder of the solemn vows and commitments made on those occasions.
Archbishop: At your ordination to the priesthood, you took authority to watch over and care for God’s people, to absolve and bless them in his name, to proclaim the gospel of salvation, and to administer the sacraments of his New Covenant. Will you continue as faithful stewards of the mysteries of God, preaching the gospel of Christ, and ministering his holy sacraments?
Priests: By the help of God, I will.
During the Foot Washing this year, as Archbishop Michael Jackson washed the feet of representatives of each order or expression of ministry, the Consort of the Cathedral Choir sang Ubi Caritas, from the Latin liturgy of Maundy Thursday, to a setting by Maurice Duruflé. The setting was the Mass for Four Voices by William Byrd (1540-1623).
Later the Archbishop consecrated the oil for the sick and dying, presented by a member of the Diocesan Ministry of Healing Committee, the oil for signing with the Cross at Baptism, presented by a deacon, and the oil of chrism presented by a priest of the diocese.
Water for the washing of feet at the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Showing posts with label Lent 2016. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lent 2016. Show all posts
23 May 2016
04 April 2016
The Annunciation: ‘this doubtful day
Of feast or fast, Christ came and went away’
The Annunciation depicted on the Nativity Façade of the Basilica of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
The Church of Ireland Theological Institute,
4 April 2016,
The Annunciation of our Lord (transferred)
5 p.m., The Eucharist
Readings: Isaiah 7: 10-14; Psalm 40: 5-10; Hebrews 10: 4-10; Luke 1: 26-38.
In the name of + the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
This year, Good Friday fell on 25 March, which is ordinarily the Feast of the Annunciation. This symbolically rich concurrence is relatively rare. It occurred only three times in the 20th century (1910, 1921, and 1932), and twice in this century (2005 and 2016). It will not occur again for almost a century and a half, not until 2157 – although, if the date of Easter is fixed by then, it will never happen again.
Today, the Church deals with this rare coincidence by transferring the feast of the Annunciation to the first Monday in the week after Easter Week.
But in the past, when this coincidence occurred, it was seen to be profoundly meaningful. The date of the feast of the Annunciation was chosen to match the supposed historical date of the Crucifixion, as deduced from the Gospels, to underline the idea that Christ came into the world on the same day that he left it: his life formed a perfect circle. In other words, 25 March was both the first and the last day of his earthly life, the beginning and the completion of his work on earth.
Saint Augustine of Hippo explained it this way:
He is believed to have been conceived on 25 March, upon which day also he suffered; so the womb of the Virgin, in which he was conceived … corresponds to the new grave in which he was buried …
Both events were understood to have happened in the spring, when life returns to the earth, and at the vernal equinox, once the days begin to grow longer than the nights and light triumphs over the power of darkness. Tolkien fans among us this evening know that the final destruction of the Ring takes place on 25 March, to align Tolkien’s own “eucatastrophe” with this most powerful of dates.
The early historian, the Venerable Bede, says this dating is symbolic but it is not only a symbol; it reveals the deep relationship between Christ’s death and all the created world, including the sun, the moon and everything on earth.
The Annunciation and the Crucifixion are often paired together in mediaeval art. This pairing inspired the development of a distinctive and beautiful image found almost uniquely in English mediaeval art: the lily crucifix – on painted screens, stained glass windows, carvings on stone tombs, misericords, wall-paintings and the painted ceiling of cathedrals, churches and chapels.
The link between the Annunciation and the Crucifixion brings together in one circle the beginning and the end of Mary’s motherhood, its joy and its sorrow, as well as completing the circle of Christ’s life on earth.
When Good Friday fell on 25 March 1608, too, John Donne marked this paradoxical conjunction of “feast and fast,” falling “some times and seldom,” with a well-known poem in which he draws on the same parallels found in those mediaeval texts and images.
I was acutely aware of these coincidences during my visit to Barcelona for Good Friday and Easter weekend.
One of the most beautiful works of architecture in Barcelona – indeed, one of the most beautiful churches in the world – is the Basilica of La Sagrada Familia, built from 1894, but not expected to be completed until 2026. The basilica designed by Antoni Gaudí (1852-1926) has two façades. The Nativity Façade depicts scenes from Christ’s birth and early life, including the Annunciation and the Incarnation.
On the opposite side, the Passion Façade includes carvings of scenes from the trial, passion and crucifixion of Christ. In a very moving way, Gaudí brings together the Annunciation and the Crucifixion.
But perhaps more movingly this link was emphasised in the street processions through the narrow streets of Barcelona on the evening of Good Friday. One float we followed had a life-sized effigy of the Pieta. The weeping Mary was bearing on her lap the body of the Crucified Christ who had been taken down from the Cross.
In that moment of searing sorrow, she must have wondered: Is this what it was all for, is this the end? Without the benefit of foresight, she could not have known the Easter story.
In her womb she has carried the Christ Child. Now she cradles the Crucified Christ on her lap. The lap on which he had once played is now the lap on which his limp and lifeless body lies dead.
Was this the journey – from the Annunciation on 25 March to the Crucifixion on 25 March?
But Mary’s yes was to all this: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1: 38).
Yet, all of this, birth and death, annunciation and crucifixion, remain perplexing, find no explanation without Resurrection. As the Apostle Paul puts it: “if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain” (I Corinthians 15: 14). And again: “And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied” (I Corinthians 15: 17-19).
Mary’s yes at the Annunciation is her yes, is our yes, is the yes of humanity and of creation, not only to the Incarnation, but to the Crucifixion, and to the Resurrection.
And it is so important, so powerful, so central, that we should not forget it when Good Friday falls on 25 March, and that we should remember and celebrate that yes today.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.
A float in the Good Friday procession in Barcelona on 25 March 2016 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Collect:
Pour your grace into our hearts, Lord,
that as we have known the incarnation of your Son Jesus Christ
by the message of an angel,
so by his cross and passion
we may be brought to the glory of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Post Communion Prayer:
God Most High,
whose handmaid bore the Word made flesh:
We thank you that in this sacrament of our redemption
you visit us with your Holy Spirit
and overshadow us by your power.
May we like Mary be joyful in our obedience,
and so bring forth the fruits of holiness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Penitential Kyries:
Lord God, mighty God,
you are the creator of the world.
Lord have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
Lord Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary,
you are the Prince of Peace.
Christ have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Holy Spirit,
by your power the Word was made flesh
and came to dwell among us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Introduction to the Peace:
Unto us a child is born, unto us is given:
and his name is called the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9: 7)
Preface:
You chose the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son
and so exalted humble and meek;
your angel hailed her as most highly favoured,
and with all generations we call her blessed.
Blessing:
Christ the Son of God, born of Mary,
fill you with his grace
to trust his promises and obey his will:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This reflection was shared at the Eucharist in the institute chapel on 4 April 2016.
John Donne, ‘Upon the Annunciation and Passion Falling upon One Day’ (1608)
Tamely, frail body, abstain today; today
My soul eats twice, Christ hither and away.
She sees Him man, so like God made in this,
That of them both a circle emblem is,
Whose first and last concur; this doubtful day
Of feast or fast, Christ came and went away;
She sees Him nothing twice at once, who’s all;
She sees a Cedar plant itself and fall,
Her Maker put to making, and the head
Of life at once not yet alive yet dead;
She sees at once the virgin mother stay
Reclused at home, public at Golgotha;
Sad and rejoiced she’s seen at once, and seen
At almost fifty and at scarce fifteen;
At once a Son is promised her, and gone;
Gabriel gives Christ to her, He her to John;
Not fully a mother, she’s in orbity,
At once receiver and the legacy;
All this, and all between, this day hath shown,
The abridgement of Christ’s story, which makes one
(As in plain maps, the furthest west is east)
Of the Angels’ Ave and Consummatum est.
How well the Church, God’s court of faculties,
Deals in some times and seldom joining these!
As by the self-fixed Pole we never do
Direct our course, but the next star thereto,
Which shows where the other is and which we say
(Because it strays not far) doth never stray,
So God by His Church, nearest to Him, we know
And stand firm, if we by her motion go;
His Spirit, as His fiery pillar doth
Lead, and His Church, as cloud, to one end both.
This Church, by letting these days join, hath shown
Death and conception in mankind is one:
Or ’twas in Him the same humility
That He would be a man and leave to be:
Or as creation He had made, as God,
With the last judgment but one period,
His imitating Spouse would join in one
Manhood’s extremes: He shall come, He is gone:
Or as though the least of His pains, deeds, or words,
Would busy a life, she all this day affords;
This treasure then, in gross, my soul uplay,
And in my life retail it every day.
Patrick Comerford
The Church of Ireland Theological Institute,
4 April 2016,
The Annunciation of our Lord (transferred)
5 p.m., The Eucharist
Readings: Isaiah 7: 10-14; Psalm 40: 5-10; Hebrews 10: 4-10; Luke 1: 26-38.
In the name of + the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
This year, Good Friday fell on 25 March, which is ordinarily the Feast of the Annunciation. This symbolically rich concurrence is relatively rare. It occurred only three times in the 20th century (1910, 1921, and 1932), and twice in this century (2005 and 2016). It will not occur again for almost a century and a half, not until 2157 – although, if the date of Easter is fixed by then, it will never happen again.
Today, the Church deals with this rare coincidence by transferring the feast of the Annunciation to the first Monday in the week after Easter Week.
But in the past, when this coincidence occurred, it was seen to be profoundly meaningful. The date of the feast of the Annunciation was chosen to match the supposed historical date of the Crucifixion, as deduced from the Gospels, to underline the idea that Christ came into the world on the same day that he left it: his life formed a perfect circle. In other words, 25 March was both the first and the last day of his earthly life, the beginning and the completion of his work on earth.
Saint Augustine of Hippo explained it this way:
He is believed to have been conceived on 25 March, upon which day also he suffered; so the womb of the Virgin, in which he was conceived … corresponds to the new grave in which he was buried …
Both events were understood to have happened in the spring, when life returns to the earth, and at the vernal equinox, once the days begin to grow longer than the nights and light triumphs over the power of darkness. Tolkien fans among us this evening know that the final destruction of the Ring takes place on 25 March, to align Tolkien’s own “eucatastrophe” with this most powerful of dates.
The early historian, the Venerable Bede, says this dating is symbolic but it is not only a symbol; it reveals the deep relationship between Christ’s death and all the created world, including the sun, the moon and everything on earth.
The Annunciation and the Crucifixion are often paired together in mediaeval art. This pairing inspired the development of a distinctive and beautiful image found almost uniquely in English mediaeval art: the lily crucifix – on painted screens, stained glass windows, carvings on stone tombs, misericords, wall-paintings and the painted ceiling of cathedrals, churches and chapels.
The link between the Annunciation and the Crucifixion brings together in one circle the beginning and the end of Mary’s motherhood, its joy and its sorrow, as well as completing the circle of Christ’s life on earth.
When Good Friday fell on 25 March 1608, too, John Donne marked this paradoxical conjunction of “feast and fast,” falling “some times and seldom,” with a well-known poem in which he draws on the same parallels found in those mediaeval texts and images.
I was acutely aware of these coincidences during my visit to Barcelona for Good Friday and Easter weekend.
One of the most beautiful works of architecture in Barcelona – indeed, one of the most beautiful churches in the world – is the Basilica of La Sagrada Familia, built from 1894, but not expected to be completed until 2026. The basilica designed by Antoni Gaudí (1852-1926) has two façades. The Nativity Façade depicts scenes from Christ’s birth and early life, including the Annunciation and the Incarnation.
On the opposite side, the Passion Façade includes carvings of scenes from the trial, passion and crucifixion of Christ. In a very moving way, Gaudí brings together the Annunciation and the Crucifixion.
But perhaps more movingly this link was emphasised in the street processions through the narrow streets of Barcelona on the evening of Good Friday. One float we followed had a life-sized effigy of the Pieta. The weeping Mary was bearing on her lap the body of the Crucified Christ who had been taken down from the Cross.
In that moment of searing sorrow, she must have wondered: Is this what it was all for, is this the end? Without the benefit of foresight, she could not have known the Easter story.
In her womb she has carried the Christ Child. Now she cradles the Crucified Christ on her lap. The lap on which he had once played is now the lap on which his limp and lifeless body lies dead.
Was this the journey – from the Annunciation on 25 March to the Crucifixion on 25 March?
But Mary’s yes was to all this: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1: 38).
Yet, all of this, birth and death, annunciation and crucifixion, remain perplexing, find no explanation without Resurrection. As the Apostle Paul puts it: “if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain” (I Corinthians 15: 14). And again: “And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied” (I Corinthians 15: 17-19).
Mary’s yes at the Annunciation is her yes, is our yes, is the yes of humanity and of creation, not only to the Incarnation, but to the Crucifixion, and to the Resurrection.
And it is so important, so powerful, so central, that we should not forget it when Good Friday falls on 25 March, and that we should remember and celebrate that yes today.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.
A float in the Good Friday procession in Barcelona on 25 March 2016 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Collect:
Pour your grace into our hearts, Lord,
that as we have known the incarnation of your Son Jesus Christ
by the message of an angel,
so by his cross and passion
we may be brought to the glory of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Post Communion Prayer:
God Most High,
whose handmaid bore the Word made flesh:
We thank you that in this sacrament of our redemption
you visit us with your Holy Spirit
and overshadow us by your power.
May we like Mary be joyful in our obedience,
and so bring forth the fruits of holiness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Penitential Kyries:
Lord God, mighty God,
you are the creator of the world.
Lord have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
Lord Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary,
you are the Prince of Peace.
Christ have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Holy Spirit,
by your power the Word was made flesh
and came to dwell among us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Introduction to the Peace:
Unto us a child is born, unto us is given:
and his name is called the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9: 7)
Preface:
You chose the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son
and so exalted humble and meek;
your angel hailed her as most highly favoured,
and with all generations we call her blessed.
Blessing:
Christ the Son of God, born of Mary,
fill you with his grace
to trust his promises and obey his will:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This reflection was shared at the Eucharist in the institute chapel on 4 April 2016.
John Donne, ‘Upon the Annunciation and Passion Falling upon One Day’ (1608)
Tamely, frail body, abstain today; today
My soul eats twice, Christ hither and away.
She sees Him man, so like God made in this,
That of them both a circle emblem is,
Whose first and last concur; this doubtful day
Of feast or fast, Christ came and went away;
She sees Him nothing twice at once, who’s all;
She sees a Cedar plant itself and fall,
Her Maker put to making, and the head
Of life at once not yet alive yet dead;
She sees at once the virgin mother stay
Reclused at home, public at Golgotha;
Sad and rejoiced she’s seen at once, and seen
At almost fifty and at scarce fifteen;
At once a Son is promised her, and gone;
Gabriel gives Christ to her, He her to John;
Not fully a mother, she’s in orbity,
At once receiver and the legacy;
All this, and all between, this day hath shown,
The abridgement of Christ’s story, which makes one
(As in plain maps, the furthest west is east)
Of the Angels’ Ave and Consummatum est.
How well the Church, God’s court of faculties,
Deals in some times and seldom joining these!
As by the self-fixed Pole we never do
Direct our course, but the next star thereto,
Which shows where the other is and which we say
(Because it strays not far) doth never stray,
So God by His Church, nearest to Him, we know
And stand firm, if we by her motion go;
His Spirit, as His fiery pillar doth
Lead, and His Church, as cloud, to one end both.
This Church, by letting these days join, hath shown
Death and conception in mankind is one:
Or ’twas in Him the same humility
That He would be a man and leave to be:
Or as creation He had made, as God,
With the last judgment but one period,
His imitating Spouse would join in one
Manhood’s extremes: He shall come, He is gone:
Or as though the least of His pains, deeds, or words,
Would busy a life, she all this day affords;
This treasure then, in gross, my soul uplay,
And in my life retail it every day.
26 March 2016
Saint George’s – an Anglican
presence in Barcelona
Saint George’s Anglican Church in Barcelona has a history dating back a century and a half
Patrick Comerford
Gaudí’s Basilica of Sagrada Familia in Barcelona must be one of the best-known churches in the world. But Barcelona has many other fine churches, including the city’s fine 13th-15th century gothic cathedral in the Barri Gòtic or Gothic Quarter in the old city, and a short walk from the Hotel Suizo where I am staying.
But visitors to Barcelona’s great cathedrals, basilicas and churches might mean that many visitors are unaware of Saint George’s Church, the Anglican church in the Sant Gervasi neighbourhood, in the north end of Barcelona.
Saint George or Sant Jordi is the patron saint of Barcelona and of Catlonia, and his feastday on 23 April is a popular Catalan holiday.
Saint George’s Anglican Church in Barcelona has a history dating back over a century and a half. Throughout Holy Week this year, Saint George’s has had a full programme beginning on Palm Sunday [20 March 2016] with a celebration of the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem, and including a Maundy Thursday Eucharist and a quiet service on Good Friday.
Throughout Lent, the Sunday School at Saint George’s has encouraged people to bring non-perishable breakfast foods to support the Salvation Army’s work with homeless people in Barcelona.
For Easter Eve this evening [26 March 2016], the Bonanova Roman Catholic Church has invited the congregation at Saint George’s to join the “Service of Fire” at 10 p.m., starting with a fire and the lighting of the new Paschal candle, symbolising the eternal presence of Christ, light of the world.
The All-Age Eucharist on Easter Day [27 March 2016] is followed by a traditional Easter egg hunt in the garden for all the children.
The history of Saint George’s Church dates back to the mid-1800s when the first Anglican services in the city were held in the official residence of the British Consul. But the services were suspended in 1872 when the chaplain left for health reasons.
The chaplaincy was revived in 1895 through the work of the Colonial and Continental Church Society (C&CCS), and a new British Consul-General and local British residents formed a building committee.
In 1897, the committee bought land at Rosellon 250, 100 metres from where the Passeig de Gracia meets Diagonal. Building work began in 1904, all the funds were raised locally and the new church was consecrated on 7 May1905.
With the Spanish Civil War, Saint George’s closed temporarily from 1936 and remained closed until the end of World War II in 1945.
In 1967, the renamed Commonwealth and Continental Church Society (C&CCS), as patrons, suggested building a new, more modern church complex that could also house the chaplain, away from the city centre.
Building work begin in 1971, thanks to the efforts of Richard Webb and the then chaplain, the Revd Harry Wilson, who was a good draughtsman and who designed the stained glass window that occupies one wall of the church.
The new church was soon completed. The first service was held on 10 July 1972, and the new Saint George’s was consecrated on 6 May 1973. Saint George’s paid off all the costs by 1974 and became entirely self-supporting, including paying the chaplain’s stipend.
New laws passed in Spain in 1992 gave full recognition to all Anglican chaplaincies in Spain as part of the Diocese of Gibraltar in Europe.
Today, Saint George’s is well established, and each chaplains has brought his own special gifts to the development of the church’s mission. Each new generation adds its own fresh support to the life of Saint George’s Church in Barcelona.
The chaplain, the Revd John Chapman, is originally from Scotland and was ordained in 2002. He served in Saint John’s West Ealing and Saint Hugh’s Northolt in the Diocese of London and more recently in Saint Martin’s Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates. His wife, the Revd Deborah Chapman, is American and is also ordained. They have two grown, married children.
Saint George’s Church can be found at C. Horaci 38 in the Sant Gervasi neighbourhood, in the north end of Barcelona, close to Pl. Bonanova.
Patrick Comerford
Gaudí’s Basilica of Sagrada Familia in Barcelona must be one of the best-known churches in the world. But Barcelona has many other fine churches, including the city’s fine 13th-15th century gothic cathedral in the Barri Gòtic or Gothic Quarter in the old city, and a short walk from the Hotel Suizo where I am staying.
But visitors to Barcelona’s great cathedrals, basilicas and churches might mean that many visitors are unaware of Saint George’s Church, the Anglican church in the Sant Gervasi neighbourhood, in the north end of Barcelona.
Saint George or Sant Jordi is the patron saint of Barcelona and of Catlonia, and his feastday on 23 April is a popular Catalan holiday.
Saint George’s Anglican Church in Barcelona has a history dating back over a century and a half. Throughout Holy Week this year, Saint George’s has had a full programme beginning on Palm Sunday [20 March 2016] with a celebration of the triumphal entry of Christ into Jerusalem, and including a Maundy Thursday Eucharist and a quiet service on Good Friday.
Throughout Lent, the Sunday School at Saint George’s has encouraged people to bring non-perishable breakfast foods to support the Salvation Army’s work with homeless people in Barcelona.
For Easter Eve this evening [26 March 2016], the Bonanova Roman Catholic Church has invited the congregation at Saint George’s to join the “Service of Fire” at 10 p.m., starting with a fire and the lighting of the new Paschal candle, symbolising the eternal presence of Christ, light of the world.
The All-Age Eucharist on Easter Day [27 March 2016] is followed by a traditional Easter egg hunt in the garden for all the children.
The history of Saint George’s Church dates back to the mid-1800s when the first Anglican services in the city were held in the official residence of the British Consul. But the services were suspended in 1872 when the chaplain left for health reasons.
The chaplaincy was revived in 1895 through the work of the Colonial and Continental Church Society (C&CCS), and a new British Consul-General and local British residents formed a building committee.
In 1897, the committee bought land at Rosellon 250, 100 metres from where the Passeig de Gracia meets Diagonal. Building work began in 1904, all the funds were raised locally and the new church was consecrated on 7 May1905.
With the Spanish Civil War, Saint George’s closed temporarily from 1936 and remained closed until the end of World War II in 1945.
In 1967, the renamed Commonwealth and Continental Church Society (C&CCS), as patrons, suggested building a new, more modern church complex that could also house the chaplain, away from the city centre.
Building work begin in 1971, thanks to the efforts of Richard Webb and the then chaplain, the Revd Harry Wilson, who was a good draughtsman and who designed the stained glass window that occupies one wall of the church.
The new church was soon completed. The first service was held on 10 July 1972, and the new Saint George’s was consecrated on 6 May 1973. Saint George’s paid off all the costs by 1974 and became entirely self-supporting, including paying the chaplain’s stipend.
New laws passed in Spain in 1992 gave full recognition to all Anglican chaplaincies in Spain as part of the Diocese of Gibraltar in Europe.
Today, Saint George’s is well established, and each chaplains has brought his own special gifts to the development of the church’s mission. Each new generation adds its own fresh support to the life of Saint George’s Church in Barcelona.
The chaplain, the Revd John Chapman, is originally from Scotland and was ordained in 2002. He served in Saint John’s West Ealing and Saint Hugh’s Northolt in the Diocese of London and more recently in Saint Martin’s Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates. His wife, the Revd Deborah Chapman, is American and is also ordained. They have two grown, married children.
Saint George’s Church can be found at C. Horaci 38 in the Sant Gervasi neighbourhood, in the north end of Barcelona, close to Pl. Bonanova.
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (46)
Jesus laid in the tomb ... from the Stations of the Cross in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I have been taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Easter Eve [26 March 2016], the day before Easter Day, and we have come to the end of Holy Week and Lent, and to the end of this journey together with Samuel Johnson.
In his last prayer, before receiving Holy Communion on 5 December 1784 and eight days before he died, Samuel Johnson prayed:
Almighty and most merciful Father, I am now, as to human eyes it seems, about to commemorate, for the last time, the death of thy Son Jesus Christ our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, O Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in his merits, and his mercy; enforce and accept my imperfect repentance; make this commemoration available to the confirmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my charity; and make the death of thy Son Jesus Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy on me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. Bless my friends; have mercy upon all men. Support me, by the grace of thy Holy Spirit, in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death; and receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
As he lay dying, Samuel Johnson’s final words were: “Iam Moriturus” (“I who am about to die”). He fell into a coma and died quietly at 7 p.m. on 13 December 1784. He was buried in Westminster Abbey a week later.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Series concluded.
Jesus is taken down from the Cross ... one of the Stations of the Cross in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I have been taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Easter Eve [26 March 2016], the day before Easter Day, and we have come to the end of Holy Week and Lent, and to the end of this journey together with Samuel Johnson.
In his last prayer, before receiving Holy Communion on 5 December 1784 and eight days before he died, Samuel Johnson prayed:
Almighty and most merciful Father, I am now, as to human eyes it seems, about to commemorate, for the last time, the death of thy Son Jesus Christ our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, O Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in his merits, and his mercy; enforce and accept my imperfect repentance; make this commemoration available to the confirmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my charity; and make the death of thy Son Jesus Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy on me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. Bless my friends; have mercy upon all men. Support me, by the grace of thy Holy Spirit, in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death; and receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
As he lay dying, Samuel Johnson’s final words were: “Iam Moriturus” (“I who am about to die”). He fell into a coma and died quietly at 7 p.m. on 13 December 1784. He was buried in Westminster Abbey a week later.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Series concluded.
Jesus is taken down from the Cross ... one of the Stations of the Cross in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
25 March 2016
Spending Good Friday and
Easter weekend in Barcelona
The Hotel Suizo on Plaza del Angel in Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter
Patrick Comerford
I am in Barcelona for the weekend, planning to follow the traditional Spanish cycle of prayers and liturgy from Good Friday today [25 March 2016] through to Easter Day on Sunday [27 March 2016].
This is only the third time I have been to Spain. Two years ago, in April 2014, I spent a similar weekend in La Carihuela, once a picturesque fishing village on the edges of Torremolinos. And seven years ago, in 2009, I spent the May Day holiday in Madrid.
So this is my first time in Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia and Spain’s second largest city, with a population of 1.6 million, and the seventh-most populous urban area in the European Union after Paris, London, Madrid, the Ruhr area, Berlin and Milan.
I arrived here earlier this morning on an early Aer Lingus flight that left Dublin at 6.40. I am staying in the Hotel Suizo on Plaza del Angel in Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, close to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia (Catedral de la Santa Creu i Santa Eulàlia, Catedral de la Santa Cruz y Santa Eulalia), the Gothic cathedral built in the 13th to 15th centuries.
I am a one-minute walk from the Jaume I subway station, a 10-minute walk from La Boqueria market and just 3 km from Antoni Gaudí’s Basilica of Sagrada Família.
Barcelona is a Mediterranean city, on the coast between the mouths of the rivers Llobregat and Besòs, and bounded to the west by the Serra de Collserola mountains.
Barcelona has a rich cultural heritage and is an important cultural centre and a major tourist destination.
The name Barcelona comes from the ancient Iberian Barkeno, found in an inscription on an ancient coin inscription. It was known to the classical Greeks as Βαρκινών (Barkinṓn) and in Latin as Barcino, Barcilonum and Barcenona. Some writers suggest the city may have been named after the Carthaginian general Hamilcar Barca, who was supposed to have founded the city in the 3rd century BC.
This was founded as a Roman city, and in the Middle Ages Barcelona became the capital of the County of Barcelona. After merging with the Kingdom of Aragon, Barcelona continued to be an important city in Aragon as an economic and administrative centre and the capital of the Principality of Catalonia.
The Barri Gòtic or Gothic Quarter where I am staying is the centre of the old city. Many buildings here date from mediaeval times, some from as far back as the Roman settlement of Barcelona.
Catalan modernista architecture – related to the Art Nouveau movement in the rest of Europe – developed between 1885 and 1950 and left an important legacy in Barcelona. Several of the buildings in Barcelona have been designated as part of one unique Unesco World Heritage Site.
I hope to see many of the works of Gaudí throughout the city. His best-known work is the immense but still unfinished Basilica of the Sagrada Família. Building began in 1882, and this work still depends on private donations and financing. It is expected to be completed by 2026.
I also hope to visit the Park Güell, in La Salut, a neighbourhood in the Gràcia district. With urbanisation in mind, Eusebi Güell asked Gaudí to design the park. The park was built in 1900-1914 and in 1984 Unesco declared the park a World Heritage Site.
In his designs for Park Güell, Gaudí drew on all his architectonic genius and put into practice much of his innovative structural solutions that would become the symbol of his organic style and that would culminate in the creation of Sagrada Familia.
Barcelona is also home to the Barcelona Pavilion designed by Mies van der Rohe in 1929 for the International Exposition for Germany. This an iconic building has come to symbolise the embodiment of van der Rohe’s architectural aphorisms that “less is more” and that “God is in the details.”
In 1999, Barcelona won the RIBA Royal Gold Medal for its architecture, the first and only time that the winner was a city and not an individual architect.
Of course there is La Rambla, there is FC Barcelona, there are long stretches of beach in the heart of the city, there are memories of reading George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia in my teens at school … and there are echoes of Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Caballe singing Barcelona.
But first and last I am here to learn, to listen, to pray and to be liturgically aware during this holiest and most sacred of weekends.
Patrick Comerford
I am in Barcelona for the weekend, planning to follow the traditional Spanish cycle of prayers and liturgy from Good Friday today [25 March 2016] through to Easter Day on Sunday [27 March 2016].
This is only the third time I have been to Spain. Two years ago, in April 2014, I spent a similar weekend in La Carihuela, once a picturesque fishing village on the edges of Torremolinos. And seven years ago, in 2009, I spent the May Day holiday in Madrid.
So this is my first time in Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia and Spain’s second largest city, with a population of 1.6 million, and the seventh-most populous urban area in the European Union after Paris, London, Madrid, the Ruhr area, Berlin and Milan.
I arrived here earlier this morning on an early Aer Lingus flight that left Dublin at 6.40. I am staying in the Hotel Suizo on Plaza del Angel in Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, close to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia (Catedral de la Santa Creu i Santa Eulàlia, Catedral de la Santa Cruz y Santa Eulalia), the Gothic cathedral built in the 13th to 15th centuries.
I am a one-minute walk from the Jaume I subway station, a 10-minute walk from La Boqueria market and just 3 km from Antoni Gaudí’s Basilica of Sagrada Família.
Barcelona is a Mediterranean city, on the coast between the mouths of the rivers Llobregat and Besòs, and bounded to the west by the Serra de Collserola mountains.
Barcelona has a rich cultural heritage and is an important cultural centre and a major tourist destination.
The name Barcelona comes from the ancient Iberian Barkeno, found in an inscription on an ancient coin inscription. It was known to the classical Greeks as Βαρκινών (Barkinṓn) and in Latin as Barcino, Barcilonum and Barcenona. Some writers suggest the city may have been named after the Carthaginian general Hamilcar Barca, who was supposed to have founded the city in the 3rd century BC.
This was founded as a Roman city, and in the Middle Ages Barcelona became the capital of the County of Barcelona. After merging with the Kingdom of Aragon, Barcelona continued to be an important city in Aragon as an economic and administrative centre and the capital of the Principality of Catalonia.
The Barri Gòtic or Gothic Quarter where I am staying is the centre of the old city. Many buildings here date from mediaeval times, some from as far back as the Roman settlement of Barcelona.
Catalan modernista architecture – related to the Art Nouveau movement in the rest of Europe – developed between 1885 and 1950 and left an important legacy in Barcelona. Several of the buildings in Barcelona have been designated as part of one unique Unesco World Heritage Site.
I hope to see many of the works of Gaudí throughout the city. His best-known work is the immense but still unfinished Basilica of the Sagrada Família. Building began in 1882, and this work still depends on private donations and financing. It is expected to be completed by 2026.
I also hope to visit the Park Güell, in La Salut, a neighbourhood in the Gràcia district. With urbanisation in mind, Eusebi Güell asked Gaudí to design the park. The park was built in 1900-1914 and in 1984 Unesco declared the park a World Heritage Site.
In his designs for Park Güell, Gaudí drew on all his architectonic genius and put into practice much of his innovative structural solutions that would become the symbol of his organic style and that would culminate in the creation of Sagrada Familia.
Barcelona is also home to the Barcelona Pavilion designed by Mies van der Rohe in 1929 for the International Exposition for Germany. This an iconic building has come to symbolise the embodiment of van der Rohe’s architectural aphorisms that “less is more” and that “God is in the details.”
In 1999, Barcelona won the RIBA Royal Gold Medal for its architecture, the first and only time that the winner was a city and not an individual architect.
Of course there is La Rambla, there is FC Barcelona, there are long stretches of beach in the heart of the city, there are memories of reading George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia in my teens at school … and there are echoes of Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Caballe singing Barcelona.
But first and last I am here to learn, to listen, to pray and to be liturgically aware during this holiest and most sacred of weekends.
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (45)
The Crucifixion … a reredos on a side altar in the north aisle of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Good Friday [25 March 2016], the climax of Holy Week and Lent.
On Good Friday, 29 March 1782, Samuel Johnson noted:
After a night of great disturbance and solicitude, such as I do not remember, I rose, drank tea, but without eating, and went to Church. I was very composed, and coming home, read Hammond on one of the Psalms for the day. I then read Leviticus. Scot came in which hindred me from Church in the afternoon. A kind letter from Gastrel. I read on, then went to Evening prayers, and afterwards drank tea with bunns; then read till I finished Leviticus 24 pages et sup.
Meditating on Good Friday some years earlier, on 20 April 1764, Johnson wrote:
I have made no reformation, I have lived totally useless, more sensual in thought and more addicted to wine and meat, grant me, O God, to amend my life for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
I hope
To put my rooms in order*.
I fasted all day.
* Disorder I have found one great cause of idleness.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
The Crucixion … from the Stations of the Cross in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Good Friday [25 March 2016], the climax of Holy Week and Lent.
On Good Friday, 29 March 1782, Samuel Johnson noted:
After a night of great disturbance and solicitude, such as I do not remember, I rose, drank tea, but without eating, and went to Church. I was very composed, and coming home, read Hammond on one of the Psalms for the day. I then read Leviticus. Scot came in which hindred me from Church in the afternoon. A kind letter from Gastrel. I read on, then went to Evening prayers, and afterwards drank tea with bunns; then read till I finished Leviticus 24 pages et sup.
Meditating on Good Friday some years earlier, on 20 April 1764, Johnson wrote:
I have made no reformation, I have lived totally useless, more sensual in thought and more addicted to wine and meat, grant me, O God, to amend my life for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
I hope
To put my rooms in order*.
I fasted all day.
* Disorder I have found one great cause of idleness.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
The Crucixion … from the Stations of the Cross in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
24 March 2016
Faithful Stewards of the Mysteries of God at
the Chrism Eucharist on Maundy Thursday
Oils for the sick and dying, the oil for signing with the Cross at Baptism and the oil of chrism at the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, this morning, for the Maundy Thursday Chrism Eucharist, at which the Archbishop, the priests and deacons and the lay ministers renew their commitments to ministry made at their consecration, ordination or commissioning.
I was ordained priest in 2001 and ordained deacon in 2000, and had also been commissioned a diocesan reader before that in 1994.
I was reminded of the solemn vows and commitments I made on those occasions.
Archbishop: At your ordination to the priesthood, you took authority to watch over and care for God’s people, to absolve and bless them in his name, to proclaim the gospel of salvation, and to administer the sacraments of his New Covenant. Will you continue as faithful stewards of the mysteries of God, preaching the gospel of Christ, and ministering his holy sacraments?
Priests: By the help of God, I will.
During the Foot Washing, when Archbishop Michael Jackson washed the feet of representatives of each order or expression of ministry, the Consort of the Cathedral Choir sang Ubi Caritas, from the Latin liturgy of Maundy Thursday, to a setting by Maurice Duruflé. The Mass setting was the Mass for Four Voices by William Byrd (1540-1623).
Later the Archbishop consecrated the oil for the sick and dying, presented by a member of the Diocesan Ministry of Healing Committee, the oil for signing with the Cross at Baptism, presented by a deacon, and the oil of chrism presented by a priest of the diocese.
Water for the washing of feet at the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, this morning, for the Maundy Thursday Chrism Eucharist, at which the Archbishop, the priests and deacons and the lay ministers renew their commitments to ministry made at their consecration, ordination or commissioning.
I was ordained priest in 2001 and ordained deacon in 2000, and had also been commissioned a diocesan reader before that in 1994.
I was reminded of the solemn vows and commitments I made on those occasions.
Archbishop: At your ordination to the priesthood, you took authority to watch over and care for God’s people, to absolve and bless them in his name, to proclaim the gospel of salvation, and to administer the sacraments of his New Covenant. Will you continue as faithful stewards of the mysteries of God, preaching the gospel of Christ, and ministering his holy sacraments?
Priests: By the help of God, I will.
During the Foot Washing, when Archbishop Michael Jackson washed the feet of representatives of each order or expression of ministry, the Consort of the Cathedral Choir sang Ubi Caritas, from the Latin liturgy of Maundy Thursday, to a setting by Maurice Duruflé. The Mass setting was the Mass for Four Voices by William Byrd (1540-1623).
Later the Archbishop consecrated the oil for the sick and dying, presented by a member of the Diocesan Ministry of Healing Committee, the oil for signing with the Cross at Baptism, presented by a deacon, and the oil of chrism presented by a priest of the diocese.
Water for the washing of feet at the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (44)

Patrick Comerford
Today is Maundy Thursday, and Lent and Holy Week are in their final days and we are reaching the climax of Lent. Later this morning, I plan to take part in the Maundy Thursday Community Eucharist in the Chapel of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and at 11.30 in the Chrism Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, when the clergy of the diocese are invited to renew our ordination vows.
In Lichfield Cathedral, the clergy of the Diocese of Lichfield are renewing their ordination vows at the Diocesan Chrism Mass at 11 a.m. and said Evening Prayer at 5.30 p.m. includes the washing of feet and a candleit vigil until Midnight.
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Despite his religious practices and faith, Johnson provides what seems an inadequate definition of Maundy Thursday in his Dictionary:
Maundy-Thursday, mawn'-de, or man'-de'- thurz'-de. s. Thursday before Good-Friday, when the king’s almoner distributes benefactions to the poor.
On Maundy Thursday, 13 April 1775, Johnson wrote:
Of the use of time, or my commendation of myself, I thought no more, but lost life in restless nights and broken days, till this week awakened by attention.
This year has passed with very little improvement, perhaps with diminution of knowledge. Much time I have not left; infirmities oppress me. But much remains to be done. I hope to rise at eight or sooner in the morning.
The Pedilavium in Lichfied Cathedral was probably used for the Maundy Thursday foot-washing ceremony (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
Collect:
God our Father,
you have invited us to share in the supper
which your Son gave to his Church
to proclaim his death until he comes:
May he nourish us by his presence,
and unite us in his love;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
and/or
Almighty God,
at the Last Supper your Son Jesus Christ
washed the disciples’ feet
and commanded them to love one another.
Give us humility and obedience to be servants of others
as he was the servant of all;
who gave up his life and died for us,
yet is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Readings:
Exodus 12: 1-4, [5-10] 11-14; Psalm 116: 1, 10-17; I Corinthians 11: 23-26; John 13: 1-17, 31b-35.
Post Communion Prayer:
Lord Jesus Christ,
in this wonderful sacrament
you have given us a memorial of your passion.
Grant us so to reverence the sacred mysteries
of your body and blood
that we may know within ourselves
the fruits of your redemption,
for you are alive and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
and/or
O God,
your Son Jesus Christ has left us this meal of bread and wine
in which we share his body and his blood.
May we who celebrate this sign of his great love
show in our lives the fruits of his redemption;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
23 March 2016
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (43)
It is by the force of perseverance that that distant place ‘are united with canals’ … swans on the Royal Canal at Castleknock (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Wednesday in Holy Week [23 March 2016]. Samuel Johnson wrote Spes, a short poem on hope in Latin, on the Wednesday of Holy Week in 1783:
Hora sic peragit citata cursum;
Sic diem sequitur dies fugacem!
Spes novas nova lux parit, secunda
Spondens omnia credulis homullis;
Spes ludit stolidas, metuque caeco
Lux angit miseros cadens homullos.
Many years earlier, in The Rambler No. 43 (14 August 1750), Johnson wrote:
All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals. If a man was to compare the single stroke of the pickaxe, or of one impression of the spade, with the general design and the last result, he would be overwhelmed by the sense of their disproportion; yet those petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties, and mountains are levelled and oceans bounded by the slender force of human beings.
It is therefore of the utmost importance that those, who have any intention of deviating from the beaten roads of life, and acquiring a reputation superior to names hourly swept away by time among the refuse of fame, should add to their reason, and their spirit, the power of persisting in their purposes; acquire the art of sapping what they cannot batter, and the habit of vanquishing obstinate resistance by obstinate attacks.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
Today is Wednesday in Holy Week [23 March 2016]. Samuel Johnson wrote Spes, a short poem on hope in Latin, on the Wednesday of Holy Week in 1783:
Hora sic peragit citata cursum;
Sic diem sequitur dies fugacem!
Spes novas nova lux parit, secunda
Spondens omnia credulis homullis;
Spes ludit stolidas, metuque caeco
Lux angit miseros cadens homullos.
Many years earlier, in The Rambler No. 43 (14 August 1750), Johnson wrote:
All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals. If a man was to compare the single stroke of the pickaxe, or of one impression of the spade, with the general design and the last result, he would be overwhelmed by the sense of their disproportion; yet those petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties, and mountains are levelled and oceans bounded by the slender force of human beings.
It is therefore of the utmost importance that those, who have any intention of deviating from the beaten roads of life, and acquiring a reputation superior to names hourly swept away by time among the refuse of fame, should add to their reason, and their spirit, the power of persisting in their purposes; acquire the art of sapping what they cannot batter, and the habit of vanquishing obstinate resistance by obstinate attacks.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
22 March 2016
Samuel Johnson: a literary giant
and a pious Anglican layman
Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) … a portrait by Joshua Reynolds
Patrick Comerford
All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals.
Throughout Lent this year, I have been blogging each morning with daily reflections on thoughts from the great 18th century writer, Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), who is one of the great literary figures in the English language and who is often regarded as an Anglican saint.
Samuel Johnson is commemorated on 13 December in the calendar of Common Worship in the Church of England as “Samuel Johnson, Moralist,” and in the Calendar of the Episcopal Church. He is best known as a writer of dictionaries and a literary editor.
Apart from his connections with Lichfield – where he was born and where I have both lived and worked – I suppose I also like him because he too began his career as a journalist, working on ‘Grub Street’ – a term for hack journalism that he immortalised in his Dictionary.
Yet in his lifetime he was renowned for his religious beliefs and as a firm supporter of the traditions of the Church of England. He had been deeply influenced as young man by reading William Law’s A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life and the writings of the Caroline divine, Jeremy Taylor. For the rest of his life, Johnson was unstinting in his support of the High Church party.
Johnson’s essays entitled ‘The Rambler,’ which were published twice-weekly between 1750 and 1752, earned him the nickname ‘The Great Moralist,’ then a term of affection and honour.
Johnson was a key figure in shaping the English language as we use it today. Indeed, he has been described as “arguably the most distinguished man of letters in English history” and his biography by his friend James Boswell has been described as “the most famous single work of biographical art in the whole of literature.”
Although he began his literary career as a ‘Grub Street’ journalist, he made lasting contributions to English literature as a poet, essayist, moralist, novelist, literary critic, biographer, editor and lexicographer. Throughout his life he was a devout Anglican, and while he was a failed teacher who never completed his degree at Oxford, this important literary figure is known and loved universally as Doctor Johnson because of the honorary doctorate he received from Trinity College Dublin, where I am an adjunct assistant professor.
A child prodigy
Samuel Johnson’s birthplace in Breadmarket Street, now the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum … Johnson was born here in 1709, and his father ran a bookshop from the house (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Samuel Johnson was born within sight of the three spires of Lichfield Cathedral on 18 September 1709 in the family home above his father’s bookshop in Breadmarket Street, Lichfield – a house on the corner of the Market Square, opposite Saint Mary’s, the guild and civic parish church. A number of Reformation martyrs had been burned at the stake the Market Square in front of the Johnson family home.
Samuel Johnson was born within sight of the spires of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Because his mother Sarah was 40 at the time of his birth, George Hector, a “man-midwife” and surgeon, was brought in to help with the birth. The family feared the baby might die and the Vicar of Saint Mary’s was called in hurriedly to baptise him at home. The sickly child later contracted scrofula, known then as the “King’s Evil” because it was thought only the touch of royalty could cure it, and he received the “royal touch” from Queen Anne in 1712.
Samuel Johnson first went to school at Dame Oliver’s School in Dam Street, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
His education began at the age of three, when his mother taught him to memorise and recite passages from The Book of Common Prayer. At the age of four, he was sent to a nearby school in Dam Street run by Dame Anne Oliver, and at seven he was sent to Lichfield Grammar School (now King Edward VI School), where he excelled in Latin and was promoted to the upper school at the age of nine.
At 16, Johnson spent six months with his cousins, the Ford family, in Pedmore, Worcestershire, where Cornelius Ford tutored Johnson in the classics. When Samuel returned to Lichfield, an angry headmaster refused to allow him to continue at the grammar school. Later, Johnson began working for his father, stitching and binding books. This work gave him time to read widely and to deepen his literary knowledge.
Christmas at Oxford … and disappointment
Lichfield’s Market Square and Johnson’s statue viewed from Johnson’s house in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
In October 1728, at the age of 19, Johnson entered Pembroke College, Oxford. Two months later, as a Christmas exercise, he was asked by his tutor to produce a translation of a Latin poem Messiah by Alexander Pope (1688-1744). This was 13 years before Handel composed his Messiah in 1741, and 14 years before its first performance, in Dublin in 1742. So Pope and Johnson were original in their choice of a title for this work.
Although Johnson thought that prayer was too high and holy for poetry, he completed half of his translation of Messiah in one afternoon and the rest the following morning. The poem was finished quickly because Johnson was hoping for patronage that would help him overcome the financial difficulties he was suffering as an undergraduate at Pembroke.
The former Lichfield Grammar School in Lower Saint John Street where Johnson went to school … now the offices of Lichfield District Council (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
After he finished the poem, it was sent to his home in Lichfield, where his father Michael Johnson, a bookseller, immediately printed the work. Michael had already published the translation before his son ever sent a copy to Pope, and it is said Samuel become “very angry” and said “if it had not been his Father [who had done this] he would have cut his throat.” However, according to one of Johnson’s early biographers, Sir John Hawkins, Pope praised the work when he claimed that he could not tell if it was “the original” or not.
But, while the poem brought praise to Johnson, it never brought him the material benefit he hoped for. Poverty brought about by his father’s failing business meant Johnson could not pay his fees. After 13 months, he left Oxford without a degree and returned to Lichfield, leaving behind many books he had borrowed from his father but could not afford to transport home.
The poem later appeared in a Miscellany of Poems (1731), edited by John Husbands, a Pembroke tutor, and this is the earliest surviving publication of any of Johnson’s writings.
Meanwhile, after his failure to get a job as a teacher at Stourbridge Grammar School and an unhappy experience at a school in Market Bosworth, Samuel Johnson returned home to Lichfield once again in 1732. While he was still hoping to get work as a teacher, he started writing for the Birmingham Journal, and after proposing a translation of Jeronimo Lobo’s account of the Abyssinians, he went on to publish A Voyage to Abyssinia.
Back in Lichfield in 1734, he befriended Elizabeth (“Tetty”) Jervis Porter, a 45-year-old widow and mother of three who was 21 years older than him. Despite opposition from her family, they were married in Derby in 1735 – he was then 25 and she was 46.
In the following autumn, Johnson opened Edial Hall School as a private academy near Lichfield. He had only three pupils – including the 18-year-old David Garrick, who later became one of the most famous actors of his day. But the school was a failure, costing Tetty a substantial portion of her fortune.
Move to London
The widowed Elizabeth (“Tetty”) Jervis Porter married Samuel Johnson in 1735 – when he was then 25 and she was 46 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Instead of trying to keep the failing school going, Johnson began to write his first major work, the historical tragedy Irene. He left Lichfield for London with David Garrick on 2 March 1737. He completed Irene in London, and Tetty joined him there at the end of the year. He soon found work with The Gentleman’s Magazine, working as a journalist on ‘Grub Street.’
In his first major literary work, the poem London, published anonymously in May 1738, Johnson portrays London as a place of crime, corruption, and neglect of the poor. Other early works in London included the biography The Life of Richard Savage and the poem The Vanity of Human Wishes, which TS Eliot regarded as one of the greatest poems in the English language.
Dr Johnson’s house in Johnson Court, off Fleet Street, London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson still hoped to work as a teacher, but all efforts to secure a post in grammar schools were rejected because he did not have an MA from Oxford or Cambridge. Alexander Pope persuaded Lord Gower to petition Oxford for an honorary degree for him, but was told that it was “too much to be asked.” Gower then asked a friend of Jonathan Swift, Dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, to have an MA awarded by Trinity College Dublin in the hope that this could be used to gain an MA from Oxford. However, Dean Swift also refused to act on Johnson’s behalf.
Feeling guilty about living on Tetty’s money, Johnson stopped living with her. Instead, he stayed in taverns or slept in “night-cellars,” and on some nights he was seen roaming the streets of London.
Commission for Dictionary
Johnson’s ‘Dictionary of the English Language’ remained the standard English dictionary for 150 years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson’s fortunes took a dramatic turn in 1746 when a publisher commissioned him to compile a dictionary of the English language – a contract that was worth 1,500 guineas. Johnson claimed he could finish the project in three years. In comparison, the Académie Française had 40 scholars who would spend 40 years completing its French dictionary. Eventually, he took nine years to complete his Dictionary of the English Language.
Johnson’s Dictionary was not the first, nor was it unique. But it remained the standard, definitive and pre-eminent English dictionary for 150 years, until the Oxford English Dictionary was published in 1928. His Dictionary offers insights into the 18th century, providing “a faithful record of the language people used.” It has been described as “one of the greatest single achievements of scholarship.” As a work of literature, it has had a far-reaching impact on modern English.
The first edition of Johnson’s Dictionary is a huge book. The pages are almost 18 inches tall, and the book is 20 inches wide when opened. It contains 42,773 entries, and sold for £4 10s, the equivalent of about £350 today. An important innovation was his use of around 114,000 literary quotations to illustrate meanings. The authors most frequently cited include Shakespeare, Milton and Dryden.
Samuel Johnson’s statue in the Market Square, Lichfield, facing his birthplace in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson’s Dictionary stands alongside the collected works of Chaucer and Shakespeare, the King James Version of the Bible and The Book of Common Prayer as one of the works that shaped and formed the words we write and speak to this day.
As his Dictionary was going to publication, Johnson eventually received the degree he had long desired – Oxford University made him a Master of Arts in 1755.
Meanwhile, Tetty Johnson, who had been ill for most of her time in London, decided to return to the countryside while he was busy working on his Dictionary and she died on 17 March 1752. Johnson blamed himself for her death, and seems never to have forgiven himself.
Literary productivity
A wall mural in Lichfield commemorates the cathedral city’s favourite son (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Besides working on the Dictionary, Johnson also wrote essays, sermons, and poems during these nine years. His widely-read novel Rasselas (1759) is a “little story book,” as he described it, telling the life of Prince Rasselas and his sister Nekayah, who are kept in a place called the Happy Valley in the land of Abyssinia.
Rasselas was written in a week to pay for his mother’s funeral and to settle her debts. It was so popular that a new edition was published almost every year, and it was soon translated into 14 other languages.
In 1763, Johnson befriended James Boswell, who later became his biographer. Together they travelled to Scotland, and Johnson recorded their experiences in A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. Johnson’s long-awaited edition of Shakespeare was published in eight volumes in 1765. Towards the end of his life, he produced his influential Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets.
Honours and friends
Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Eventually, despite Swift’s refusal, Trinity College Dublin awarded Johnson an honorary doctorate (LL.D.) in 1765. Later, in his Life of Samuel Johnson, Boswell referred so often to him as Dr Johnson that he has been known as Dr Johnson ever since. When he returned to Oxford, he was accompanied by Boswell and toured Pembroke College with the Master, the Revd Dr William Adams, who had once been his tutor.
Johnson formed “The Club,” whose members included the painter Joshua Reynolds, the actor David Garrick, the Irish politician Edmund Burke, the Irish poet Oliver Goldsmith, the Irish actor, Arthur Murphy, and the Church of Ireland (Anglican) Bishop of Killaloe, Thomas Barnard. Reynolds said Johnson was “almost the only man whom I call a friend.” Burke thought that if Johnson were elected to Parliament he “certainly would have been the greatest speaker that ever was there.”
Johnson relied on a unique form of rhetoric, and is known for his “refutation” of Bishop George Berkeley’s immaterialism and the Irish bishop’s claim that matter did not actually exist but only seemed to exist. In a conversation with Boswell, Johnson powerfully stomped on a nearby stone and proclaimed of Berkeley’s theory: “I refute it thus!”
Devout Anglican, dying prayers
Advice from Dr Johnson outside the Queen’s Head in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson was a devout Anglican and a compassionate man whose works are permeated with his morality. His faith did not prejudice him against others, and he respected members of other churches who demonstrated a commitment to the teachings of Christ. He admired John Milton’s poetry but could not tolerate his Puritan and Republican beliefs. He was a Tory, yet he opposed slavery and once proposed a toast to the “next rebellion of the negroes in the West Indies.”
He would write on moral topics with such authority and in such a trusting manner that one biographer said: “No other moralist in history excels or even begins to rival him.”
Shortly before his death, Johnson composed an inscription for a floor slab in the centre of the nave in Saint Michael’s Church, Lichfield, to commemorate his father, Michael Johnson (died 1731), his mother, Sarah Johnson (died 1759), and his brother, Nathaniel Johnson (died 1737), who were all buried in the church. The original stone was removed when Saint Michael’s was repaved in the late 1790s, but it was replaced with the same inscription in 1884 to mark the centenary of Samuel Johnson’s death.
On his last visit to church, the walk strained Johnson. However, while there he wrote a prayer for his friends, the Thrale family: “To thy fatherly protection, O Lord, I commend this family. Bless, guide, and defend them, that they may pass through this world, as finally to enjoy in thy presence everlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.”
In his last prayer, on 5 December 1784, before receiving Holy Communion and eight days before he died, Samuel Johnson prayed:
Almighty and most merciful Father, I am now, as to human eyes it seems, about to commemorate, for the last time, the death of thy Son Jesus Christ our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, O Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in his merits, and his mercy; enforce and accept my imperfect repentance; make this commemoration available to the confirmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my charity; and make the death of thy Son Jesus Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy on me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. Bless my friends; have mercy upon all men. Support me, by the grace of thy Holy Spirit, in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death; and receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
As he lay dying, Samuel Johnson’s final words were: “Iam Moriturus” (“I who am about to die”). He fell into a coma and died at 7 p.m. on 13 December 1784. He was buried in Westminster Abbey a week later.
Johnson’s life and work are celebrated in a stained glass window in Southwark Cathedral, he has monuments in Westminster Abbey, Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, and Lichfield Cathedral, and he is named in the calendar of the Church of England as a modern Anglican saint.
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a Canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.
This paper was first published in Koinonia, vol 9 no 30 (Lent/Easter 2016), pp 22-26.
Patrick Comerford
All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals.
Throughout Lent this year, I have been blogging each morning with daily reflections on thoughts from the great 18th century writer, Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), who is one of the great literary figures in the English language and who is often regarded as an Anglican saint.
Samuel Johnson is commemorated on 13 December in the calendar of Common Worship in the Church of England as “Samuel Johnson, Moralist,” and in the Calendar of the Episcopal Church. He is best known as a writer of dictionaries and a literary editor.
Apart from his connections with Lichfield – where he was born and where I have both lived and worked – I suppose I also like him because he too began his career as a journalist, working on ‘Grub Street’ – a term for hack journalism that he immortalised in his Dictionary.
Yet in his lifetime he was renowned for his religious beliefs and as a firm supporter of the traditions of the Church of England. He had been deeply influenced as young man by reading William Law’s A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life and the writings of the Caroline divine, Jeremy Taylor. For the rest of his life, Johnson was unstinting in his support of the High Church party.
Johnson’s essays entitled ‘The Rambler,’ which were published twice-weekly between 1750 and 1752, earned him the nickname ‘The Great Moralist,’ then a term of affection and honour.
Johnson was a key figure in shaping the English language as we use it today. Indeed, he has been described as “arguably the most distinguished man of letters in English history” and his biography by his friend James Boswell has been described as “the most famous single work of biographical art in the whole of literature.”
Although he began his literary career as a ‘Grub Street’ journalist, he made lasting contributions to English literature as a poet, essayist, moralist, novelist, literary critic, biographer, editor and lexicographer. Throughout his life he was a devout Anglican, and while he was a failed teacher who never completed his degree at Oxford, this important literary figure is known and loved universally as Doctor Johnson because of the honorary doctorate he received from Trinity College Dublin, where I am an adjunct assistant professor.
A child prodigy
Samuel Johnson’s birthplace in Breadmarket Street, now the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum … Johnson was born here in 1709, and his father ran a bookshop from the house (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Samuel Johnson was born within sight of the three spires of Lichfield Cathedral on 18 September 1709 in the family home above his father’s bookshop in Breadmarket Street, Lichfield – a house on the corner of the Market Square, opposite Saint Mary’s, the guild and civic parish church. A number of Reformation martyrs had been burned at the stake the Market Square in front of the Johnson family home.
Samuel Johnson was born within sight of the spires of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Because his mother Sarah was 40 at the time of his birth, George Hector, a “man-midwife” and surgeon, was brought in to help with the birth. The family feared the baby might die and the Vicar of Saint Mary’s was called in hurriedly to baptise him at home. The sickly child later contracted scrofula, known then as the “King’s Evil” because it was thought only the touch of royalty could cure it, and he received the “royal touch” from Queen Anne in 1712.
Samuel Johnson first went to school at Dame Oliver’s School in Dam Street, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
His education began at the age of three, when his mother taught him to memorise and recite passages from The Book of Common Prayer. At the age of four, he was sent to a nearby school in Dam Street run by Dame Anne Oliver, and at seven he was sent to Lichfield Grammar School (now King Edward VI School), where he excelled in Latin and was promoted to the upper school at the age of nine.
At 16, Johnson spent six months with his cousins, the Ford family, in Pedmore, Worcestershire, where Cornelius Ford tutored Johnson in the classics. When Samuel returned to Lichfield, an angry headmaster refused to allow him to continue at the grammar school. Later, Johnson began working for his father, stitching and binding books. This work gave him time to read widely and to deepen his literary knowledge.
Christmas at Oxford … and disappointment
Lichfield’s Market Square and Johnson’s statue viewed from Johnson’s house in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
In October 1728, at the age of 19, Johnson entered Pembroke College, Oxford. Two months later, as a Christmas exercise, he was asked by his tutor to produce a translation of a Latin poem Messiah by Alexander Pope (1688-1744). This was 13 years before Handel composed his Messiah in 1741, and 14 years before its first performance, in Dublin in 1742. So Pope and Johnson were original in their choice of a title for this work.
Although Johnson thought that prayer was too high and holy for poetry, he completed half of his translation of Messiah in one afternoon and the rest the following morning. The poem was finished quickly because Johnson was hoping for patronage that would help him overcome the financial difficulties he was suffering as an undergraduate at Pembroke.
The former Lichfield Grammar School in Lower Saint John Street where Johnson went to school … now the offices of Lichfield District Council (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
After he finished the poem, it was sent to his home in Lichfield, where his father Michael Johnson, a bookseller, immediately printed the work. Michael had already published the translation before his son ever sent a copy to Pope, and it is said Samuel become “very angry” and said “if it had not been his Father [who had done this] he would have cut his throat.” However, according to one of Johnson’s early biographers, Sir John Hawkins, Pope praised the work when he claimed that he could not tell if it was “the original” or not.
But, while the poem brought praise to Johnson, it never brought him the material benefit he hoped for. Poverty brought about by his father’s failing business meant Johnson could not pay his fees. After 13 months, he left Oxford without a degree and returned to Lichfield, leaving behind many books he had borrowed from his father but could not afford to transport home.
The poem later appeared in a Miscellany of Poems (1731), edited by John Husbands, a Pembroke tutor, and this is the earliest surviving publication of any of Johnson’s writings.
Meanwhile, after his failure to get a job as a teacher at Stourbridge Grammar School and an unhappy experience at a school in Market Bosworth, Samuel Johnson returned home to Lichfield once again in 1732. While he was still hoping to get work as a teacher, he started writing for the Birmingham Journal, and after proposing a translation of Jeronimo Lobo’s account of the Abyssinians, he went on to publish A Voyage to Abyssinia.
Back in Lichfield in 1734, he befriended Elizabeth (“Tetty”) Jervis Porter, a 45-year-old widow and mother of three who was 21 years older than him. Despite opposition from her family, they were married in Derby in 1735 – he was then 25 and she was 46.
In the following autumn, Johnson opened Edial Hall School as a private academy near Lichfield. He had only three pupils – including the 18-year-old David Garrick, who later became one of the most famous actors of his day. But the school was a failure, costing Tetty a substantial portion of her fortune.
Move to London
The widowed Elizabeth (“Tetty”) Jervis Porter married Samuel Johnson in 1735 – when he was then 25 and she was 46 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Instead of trying to keep the failing school going, Johnson began to write his first major work, the historical tragedy Irene. He left Lichfield for London with David Garrick on 2 March 1737. He completed Irene in London, and Tetty joined him there at the end of the year. He soon found work with The Gentleman’s Magazine, working as a journalist on ‘Grub Street.’
In his first major literary work, the poem London, published anonymously in May 1738, Johnson portrays London as a place of crime, corruption, and neglect of the poor. Other early works in London included the biography The Life of Richard Savage and the poem The Vanity of Human Wishes, which TS Eliot regarded as one of the greatest poems in the English language.
Dr Johnson’s house in Johnson Court, off Fleet Street, London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson still hoped to work as a teacher, but all efforts to secure a post in grammar schools were rejected because he did not have an MA from Oxford or Cambridge. Alexander Pope persuaded Lord Gower to petition Oxford for an honorary degree for him, but was told that it was “too much to be asked.” Gower then asked a friend of Jonathan Swift, Dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, to have an MA awarded by Trinity College Dublin in the hope that this could be used to gain an MA from Oxford. However, Dean Swift also refused to act on Johnson’s behalf.
Feeling guilty about living on Tetty’s money, Johnson stopped living with her. Instead, he stayed in taverns or slept in “night-cellars,” and on some nights he was seen roaming the streets of London.
Commission for Dictionary
Johnson’s ‘Dictionary of the English Language’ remained the standard English dictionary for 150 years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson’s fortunes took a dramatic turn in 1746 when a publisher commissioned him to compile a dictionary of the English language – a contract that was worth 1,500 guineas. Johnson claimed he could finish the project in three years. In comparison, the Académie Française had 40 scholars who would spend 40 years completing its French dictionary. Eventually, he took nine years to complete his Dictionary of the English Language.
Johnson’s Dictionary was not the first, nor was it unique. But it remained the standard, definitive and pre-eminent English dictionary for 150 years, until the Oxford English Dictionary was published in 1928. His Dictionary offers insights into the 18th century, providing “a faithful record of the language people used.” It has been described as “one of the greatest single achievements of scholarship.” As a work of literature, it has had a far-reaching impact on modern English.
The first edition of Johnson’s Dictionary is a huge book. The pages are almost 18 inches tall, and the book is 20 inches wide when opened. It contains 42,773 entries, and sold for £4 10s, the equivalent of about £350 today. An important innovation was his use of around 114,000 literary quotations to illustrate meanings. The authors most frequently cited include Shakespeare, Milton and Dryden.
Samuel Johnson’s statue in the Market Square, Lichfield, facing his birthplace in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson’s Dictionary stands alongside the collected works of Chaucer and Shakespeare, the King James Version of the Bible and The Book of Common Prayer as one of the works that shaped and formed the words we write and speak to this day.
As his Dictionary was going to publication, Johnson eventually received the degree he had long desired – Oxford University made him a Master of Arts in 1755.
Meanwhile, Tetty Johnson, who had been ill for most of her time in London, decided to return to the countryside while he was busy working on his Dictionary and she died on 17 March 1752. Johnson blamed himself for her death, and seems never to have forgiven himself.
Literary productivity
A wall mural in Lichfield commemorates the cathedral city’s favourite son (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Besides working on the Dictionary, Johnson also wrote essays, sermons, and poems during these nine years. His widely-read novel Rasselas (1759) is a “little story book,” as he described it, telling the life of Prince Rasselas and his sister Nekayah, who are kept in a place called the Happy Valley in the land of Abyssinia.
Rasselas was written in a week to pay for his mother’s funeral and to settle her debts. It was so popular that a new edition was published almost every year, and it was soon translated into 14 other languages.
In 1763, Johnson befriended James Boswell, who later became his biographer. Together they travelled to Scotland, and Johnson recorded their experiences in A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. Johnson’s long-awaited edition of Shakespeare was published in eight volumes in 1765. Towards the end of his life, he produced his influential Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets.
Honours and friends
Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Eventually, despite Swift’s refusal, Trinity College Dublin awarded Johnson an honorary doctorate (LL.D.) in 1765. Later, in his Life of Samuel Johnson, Boswell referred so often to him as Dr Johnson that he has been known as Dr Johnson ever since. When he returned to Oxford, he was accompanied by Boswell and toured Pembroke College with the Master, the Revd Dr William Adams, who had once been his tutor.
Johnson formed “The Club,” whose members included the painter Joshua Reynolds, the actor David Garrick, the Irish politician Edmund Burke, the Irish poet Oliver Goldsmith, the Irish actor, Arthur Murphy, and the Church of Ireland (Anglican) Bishop of Killaloe, Thomas Barnard. Reynolds said Johnson was “almost the only man whom I call a friend.” Burke thought that if Johnson were elected to Parliament he “certainly would have been the greatest speaker that ever was there.”
Johnson relied on a unique form of rhetoric, and is known for his “refutation” of Bishop George Berkeley’s immaterialism and the Irish bishop’s claim that matter did not actually exist but only seemed to exist. In a conversation with Boswell, Johnson powerfully stomped on a nearby stone and proclaimed of Berkeley’s theory: “I refute it thus!”
Devout Anglican, dying prayers
Advice from Dr Johnson outside the Queen’s Head in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Johnson was a devout Anglican and a compassionate man whose works are permeated with his morality. His faith did not prejudice him against others, and he respected members of other churches who demonstrated a commitment to the teachings of Christ. He admired John Milton’s poetry but could not tolerate his Puritan and Republican beliefs. He was a Tory, yet he opposed slavery and once proposed a toast to the “next rebellion of the negroes in the West Indies.”
He would write on moral topics with such authority and in such a trusting manner that one biographer said: “No other moralist in history excels or even begins to rival him.”
Shortly before his death, Johnson composed an inscription for a floor slab in the centre of the nave in Saint Michael’s Church, Lichfield, to commemorate his father, Michael Johnson (died 1731), his mother, Sarah Johnson (died 1759), and his brother, Nathaniel Johnson (died 1737), who were all buried in the church. The original stone was removed when Saint Michael’s was repaved in the late 1790s, but it was replaced with the same inscription in 1884 to mark the centenary of Samuel Johnson’s death.
On his last visit to church, the walk strained Johnson. However, while there he wrote a prayer for his friends, the Thrale family: “To thy fatherly protection, O Lord, I commend this family. Bless, guide, and defend them, that they may pass through this world, as finally to enjoy in thy presence everlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.”
In his last prayer, on 5 December 1784, before receiving Holy Communion and eight days before he died, Samuel Johnson prayed:
Almighty and most merciful Father, I am now, as to human eyes it seems, about to commemorate, for the last time, the death of thy Son Jesus Christ our Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, O Lord, that my whole hope and confidence may be in his merits, and his mercy; enforce and accept my imperfect repentance; make this commemoration available to the confirmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope, and the enlargement of my charity; and make the death of thy Son Jesus Christ effectual to my redemption. Have mercy on me, and pardon the multitude of my offences. Bless my friends; have mercy upon all men. Support me, by the grace of thy Holy Spirit, in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death; and receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.
As he lay dying, Samuel Johnson’s final words were: “Iam Moriturus” (“I who am about to die”). He fell into a coma and died at 7 p.m. on 13 December 1784. He was buried in Westminster Abbey a week later.
Johnson’s life and work are celebrated in a stained glass window in Southwark Cathedral, he has monuments in Westminster Abbey, Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, and Lichfield Cathedral, and he is named in the calendar of the Church of England as a modern Anglican saint.
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a Canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.
This paper was first published in Koinonia, vol 9 no 30 (Lent/Easter 2016), pp 22-26.
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (42)
Samuel Johnson’s birthplace in Breadmarket Street, Lichfield, now the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
He wrote in The Rambler No 67 (6 November 1750):
Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, of sickness, or captivity, would, without this comfort, be insupportable; nor does it appear that the happiest lot of terrestrial existence can set us above the want of this general blessing; or that life, when the gifts of nature and of fortune are accumulated upon it, would not still be wretched, were it not elevated and delighted by the expectation of some new possession, of some enjoyment yet behind, by which the wish shall at last be satisfied, and the heart filled up to its utmost extent.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
An artist’s impression of the interior of the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
He wrote in The Rambler No 67 (6 November 1750):
Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, of sickness, or captivity, would, without this comfort, be insupportable; nor does it appear that the happiest lot of terrestrial existence can set us above the want of this general blessing; or that life, when the gifts of nature and of fortune are accumulated upon it, would not still be wretched, were it not elevated and delighted by the expectation of some new possession, of some enjoyment yet behind, by which the wish shall at last be satisfied, and the heart filled up to its utmost extent.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
An artist’s impression of the interior of the Samuel Johnson Birthplace Museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
21 March 2016
A journey through Lent 2016
with Samuel Johnson (41)

Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
In an essay in The Adventurer, No 24 (25 August 1753), Samuel Johnson questions the view commonly held at the time “that England affords a greater variety of characters than the rest of the world. This is ascribed to the liberty prevailing amongst us, which gives every man the privilege of being wise or foolish his own way, and preserves him from the necessity of hypocrisy or the servility of imitation.”
He describes taking a stagecoach journey across England, when was confined to a small space with strangers who did not know one another and who were reluctant to engage freely in conversation with each another. He observes:
How readily the predominant passion snatches an interval of liberty, and how fast it expands itself when the weight of restraint is taken away, I had lately the opportunity to discover, as I took a journey into the country …
It is always observable that silence propagates itself, and that the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult it is to find anything to say.
Yesterday’s reflection.
Continued tomorrow.
Is silence induced by travel in a confined space? The train from Wexford to Rosslare Harbour (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
20 March 2016
A second look at Samuel Johnson’s
opinion of Irish writers and literature
Samuel Johnson’s statue at Saint Clement Dane’s in The Strand, London … the work of the Irish sculptor Percy Fitzgerald (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
But as the Saint Patrick’s Festival comes to an end in Ireland I found myself this weekend taking another look at Dr Johnson’s Irish connections, and the interesting Irish figures in his circle of friends.
The great literary theorist Terry Eagleton has described Johnson as being “virulently anti-Gaelic.” Yet Johnson had a wide circle of Irish friends in London, had positive opinions about Irish writers and Irish literature, and was known forever as Doctor Johnson because of the honorary degree he received from Trinity College Dublin.
Johnson had failed to secure a position as a schoolmaster because he did not have a university degree. After his school at Edial near Lichfield turned into a financial disaster, Johnson moved to London. Soon after, while he was living in London and working as journalist, his skills as a writer were recognised with the publication in May 1738 of his poem London, which attracted the praise of Alexander Pope.
Knowing Johnson feared being drawn into the hack journalism of ‘Grub Street’ and still harboured hope of becoming a grammar school teacher, Pope wrote to the Earl Gower asking him to intervene on Johnson’s behalf.
On 1 August 1738, Gower wrote to a friend of Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), Dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, asking him to intervene on his behalf so that Johnson might receive the degree MA from Trinity College Dublin. Either Gower’s pleas fell on deaf ears or Swift refused to act; Johnson never received the degree, never worked as a teacher again, and continued to work as a journalist and writer.
Trinity College Dublin ... Samuel Johnson received an honorary doctorate in 1765 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Eventually, with the publication of his Dictionary, Trinity College Dublin bestowed an honorary Doctor of Laws degree on Johnson 250 years ago in 1765, and for ever after he was known as Dr Johnson.
Later, Johnson’s biographer, James Boswell, recalled that Johnson “seemed to me to have an unaccountable prejudice against Swift.” Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s father, Thomas Sheridan (1721-1788) from Co Cavan, was a godson of Swift and once worked in the theatre with David Garrick. According to Boswell, Sheridan imputed Johnson’s views of Swift because the dean “had not been sufficiently active in obtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited.”
However, Boswell decided to ask Johnson whether Swift had personally offended him, and “he told me he had not.” Johnson went on to tell Boswell: “Swift is clear, but shallow. In coarse humour he is inferior to Arbuthnot; in delicate humour he is inferior to Addison. So he is inferior to his contemporaries; without putting him against the whole world. I doubt the Tale of a Tub was his: it has so much more thinking, more knowledge, more power, more colour, than any of the works which are indisputably his. If it was his, I shall only say, he was ‘impar sibi’.”
Johnson’s Life of Swift reveals that Johnson actually liked Dean Swift, and commenting on Wood’s Halfpence, he says Swift “delivered Ireland from plunder and oppression, and shewed that wit, confederated with truth, had such force as authority was unable to resist.”
With notes from a collaborator who attended the debates, Johnson evoked Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels in his series of ‘Parliamentary Reports’ disguised as from ‘The Senate of Lilliput.’ The debates were kept secret from the public at the time and it was illegal to reproduce them in print, making it a true test of Johnson’s ability to write imaginative and satiric works.
Another Irish Anglican clergyman who crossed Johnson’s path was the eccentric and erratic Revd Charles Stewart Eccles (1747-1777). Eccles was talented in many ways, and today he is appreciated as a minor artist who exhibited acclaimed paintings and works in crayon.
Eccles was the youngest son of Charles Eccles (1709-1763) of Ecclesville and Fintona, High Sheriff of Co Tyrone, and his wife Rebecca Anne Stewart. He was a student at TCD, but never received a degree. He was involved with the early Methodists, and his doctrine and style of preaching was condemned by his cousin, William Newcome (1729-1800), Bishop of Dromore and later Archbishop of Armagh, and the Rector of Fintona, the Revd Philip Skelton, refused to allow him to preach in what was once his home parish.
Despite his views, Eccles was appointed Rector of Birtsmorton, Worcestershire, in 1771, a living under the patronage of the Co Cavan peer, Charles Coote (1738-1800), Earl of Bellomont. However, Eccles soon left the parish and in 1773 he went to Georgia as a missionary, associated with the George Whitefield and the Countess of Huntingdon. He is said to have become the head of a college in Savannah, but returned to England in 1774.
Back in England, Eccles became entangled in a bizarre controversy when he claimed to have written a popular but anonymous The Man of Feeling (1771), which purported to have been published from a dead man’s papers. Eccles had supported his claim by transcribing the whole novel, adding “an appropriate allowance of what Boswell described as “blottings, interlineations and corrections, that it might be shewn to several people as an original.”
Boswell later pointed out that the true author was Henry Mackenzie, an attorney in the Exchequer in Edinburgh. The publishers were forced to place advertisements in newspapers denying the claims made by Eccles.
As the controversy continued, either by an extraordinary coincidence or as some have suggested by an act of suicide, Eccles died attempting to save a boy drowning in the River Avon near Bath.
Boswell recalls: “Johnson, indeed, from the peculiar features of his literary offspring, might bid defiance to any attempt to appropriate them to others:
But Shakespeare’s magick could not copied be,
Within that circle none durst walk but he.”
Two Church of Ireland bishops who were part of Johnsons inner circle were Thomas Percy of Dromore and Thomas Barnard of Killaloe.
Thomas Percy, Bishop of Dromore (1782-1811), was once described by Archbishop Stuart as “inactive and useless,” but was an important literary figure in his day had a reputation for piety, hospitality and benevolence. He was a member of Johnson’s Literary Club, a friend of Johnson, Goldsmith and Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the editor of the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, which fired the imagination of Walter Scott.
Bishop Thomas Barnard ... a portrait hanging in the the vestry in Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Thomas Barnard (ca 1727-1806) was part of Johnson’s circle of friends in London while he was Bishop of Killaloe (1780–1794). Barnard, who later became Bishop of Limerick, Ardfert and Aghadoe (1794-1806), was a member of the Literary Club, and his other friends in London included Boswell, Garrick, Goldsmith, Percy, Reynolds and Edmund Burke.
In conversation with Boswell, Dr Johnson once said of Bishop Barnard:
No man ever paid more attention to another than he has done to me … Always, sir, set a high value on spontaneous kindness. He whose inclination prompts him to cultivate his friendship of his own accord, will love you more than one whom you have been at pains to attach to you.
Barnard, for his part, wrote some verses about Johnson that conclude:
Johnson shall teach me how to place
In fairest light each borrow’d grace;
From him I’ll learn to write:
Copy his clear familiar style,
And by the roughness of his file
Grow, like himself, polite.
In 1783, Johnson wrote a charade as a tribute to Barnard:
My first shuts out thieves from your house or your room,
My second expresses a Syrian perfume,
My whole is a man in whose converse is shar’d
The strength of a Bar and the sweetness of Nard.
Oliver Goldsmith’s statue outside Trinity College Dublin, facing College Green and the former Parliament House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Johnson was particularly high in his praise of Oliver Goldsmith. In his Latin epitaph for Goldsmith, Johnson wrote:
Oliver Goldsmith: A Poet, Naturalist, and Historian,
Who left scarcely any style of writing untouched,
And touched nothing that he did not adorn;
Of all passions, whether smiles were to be moved or tears,
A powerful yet gentle master;
In genius, sublime, vivid, versatile,
In style, clear, elevated, elegant -
The love of companions,
The fidelity of friends,
And the veneration of readers,
Have by this monument honoured the memory.
Johnson contributed lines to both The Deserted Village and The Traveller, and he said of Goldsmith’s Traveller: “There has not been so fine a poem since Pope’s time.”
Praising She Stoops To Conquer, Johnson said: “I know of no comedy for many years that has so much exhilarated an audience, that has answered so much the great end of comedy – making an audience merry.”
Edmund Burke’s statue outside Trinity College Dublin, facing College Green and the former Parliament House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The many Irish politicians among Johnson’s friends included Edmund Burke, the brothers Thomas Fitzmaurice and William Fitzmaurice (Lord Lansdowne).
Edmund Burke (1729-1797) was born in Dublin and educated at Trinity College Dublin, although he spent most of his political career in England and as an MP in Westminster. Johnson admired Burke for having a brilliant mind, and at one point of illness asked that Burke be kept away from him, because arguing with Burke would take too much of his energy and might kill him.
Hester Thrale (Mrs Piozzi) quotes Johnson as once saying of Burke: “You could not stand five minutes with that man beneath a shed while it rained, but you must be convinced you had been standing with the greatest man you had ever yet seen.”
While Burke was a member of the Literary Club and they often saw each other, Johnson strongly disagreed with Burke’s politics, which Johnson condemned in his pamphlet The Patriot. Perhaps Johnson had Burke in mind when he made his famous remark about patriotism and scoundrels.
According to Boswell, Johnson said of Burke: “In private life he is a very honest gentleman; but I will not allow him to be so in publick life. People may be honest, though they are doing wrong; that is between their Maker and them. But we, who are suffering by their pernicious conduct, are to destroy them. We are sure that [Burke] acts from interest. We know what his genuine principles were. They who allow their passions to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, are criminal. They may be convinced; but they have not come honestly by their conviction.”
The FitzMaurice arms decorate the Lansdowne Strand Hotel in Calne, Wiltshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Hon Thomas Fitzmaurice (1742-1793) was the second son of John Fitzmaurice, Earl of Shelburne. His wife, Lady Mary O’Brien, was a daughter of Murrough O’Brien, 5th Earl of Inchiquin, and in 1790 she inherited the title of Countess of Orkney from her mother.
Thomas Fitzmaurice was a friend of Johnson, Garrick, and the Thrales. Johnson wrote to Fitzmaurice on 7 December 1778, congratulating him on the birth of his son, John Fitzmaurice (1778-1820), styled Viscount Kirkwall, and complimenting his wife and his mother.
Fitzmaurice, who was MP for Calne (1762-1774) and Chipping Wycombe (1774-1780), died at Hampstead on 14 November 1793. After his death, the Gentleman’s Magazine wrote: ‘He formerly lived on the most intimate terms with Johnson, Hawkesworth, and Garrick ... He was the gentleman who from his extensive concerns in the linen manufactory, was called the Royal Merchant.”
His brother, William Fitzmaurice (1737-1805), became 2nd Earl of Shelburne and a prominent statesman. He was British Prime Minister from 1782 to 1783 and Marquess of Lansdowne.
Shelburne has been described as “one of the suppressed characters of English history.” He was highly intelligent, and Johnson praised him as “a man of abilities and information,” open to ideas, and said he “acted like himself, that is, unlike anybody else.”
Other members of Johnson’s Club included Lord Charlemont, the Irish politician, Agmondesham Vesey (1708-1785) of Lucan, Accountant-General of Ireland, and Sir Thomas Charles Bunbury, first husband of Lady Sarah Lennox, later wife of Colonel George Napier of Celbridge, Co Kildare – she was an aunt of Lord Edward FitzGerald.
Johnson was a High Church Anglican, and in his personal piety he was strongly influenced by the piety and the writings of the Caroline Divine Jeremy Taylor, who had been Bishop of Down, Dromore and Connor in the previous century.
In The Life of Samuel Johnson, Sir John Hawkins notes that Johnson constantly read his Greek New Testament, and was well read in Patristics or the writings of the Early Fathers of the Church, and was conversant with the works of the great Anglican writers, including Richard Hooker and the Caroline Divines, as well as The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis.
At times when Johnson “was most distressed,” Hawkins recommended him to read Rules and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying by Jeremy Taylor and his Ductor Dubitantium.
Johnson regarded Jeremy Taylor as the best of “all the divines that have succeeded the fathers.” Johnson was a personal friend of one of Taylor’s successors, Bishop Thomas Percy of Dromore, and in his will left him some of his books. Some years ago [12 August 2009], I was invited to speak about Jeremy Taylor in the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield.
Johnson once adapted these words by Taylor on preparation for receiving the Sacrament of Holy Communion:
It is no great matter to live lovingly and good-natured, with humble and meek persons; but he that can do so with the froward, with the wilful, and the ignorant, with the peevish and perverse, he only hath true charity. Always remembering, that our true solid peace, the peace of God, consists rather in compliance with others, than in being complied with; in suffering and forbearing, rather than in contention and victory.
Johnson’s other Irish friends in London included Arthur Murphy and Charles O’Conor. However, Boswell, in his Life of Johnson records Johnson as having famously said on one occasion:
The Irish are not in a conspiracy to cheat the world by false representations of the merits of their countrymen. No, Sir; the Irish are a fair people; – they never speak well of one another.
Boswell also records the following conversation with Johnson:
He, I know not why, shewed upon all occasions an aversion to go to Ireland, where I proposed to him that we should make a tour.
Johnson: It is the last place where I should wish to travel.
Boswell: Should you not like to see Dublin, Sir?
Johnson: No, Sir; Dublin is only a worse capital.
Boswell: Is not the Giant’s-Causeway worth seeing?
Johnson: Worth seeing, yes; but not worth going to see.
But what did Johnson truly think of Ireland? Boswell recalls Johnson once saying to an Irishman, during a conversation on Ireland’s political state:
Do not make a union with us, Sir. We should unite with you, only to rob you. We should have robbed the Scotch, if they had had any thing of which we could have robbed them.
He also recalls Johnson saying:
The Irish are in a most unnatural state; for we see there the minority prevailing over the majority. There is no instance, even in the ten persecutions, of such severity as that which the Protestants of Ireland have exercised against the Catholicks. Did we tell them we have conquered them, it would be above board: to punish them by confiscation and other penalties, as rebels, was monstrous injustice.
In a letter to the Irish writer and historian Charles O’Conor (1710-1791), Johnson wrote in 1755:
I have long wished that the Irish literature were cultivated. Ireland is known by tradition to have been once the seat of piety and learning; and surely it would be very acceptable to all those who are curious either in the original of nations, or the affinities of languages, to be further informed of the revolution of a people so ancient, and once so illustrious.
Malahide Castle, Co Dublin … James Boswell’s papers were discovered accidentally in the 1920s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
In an accident of history, the private papers of James Boswell, including intimate journals for much of his life, were discovered in Malahide Castle, Co Dublin, in the 1920s and sold to an American collector Ralph H Isham, by James Boswell Talbot (1874-1948), Lord Talbot de Malahide.
Lord Malahide was Boswell’s great-great-grandson – his mother, Emily Harriet, was a daughter of Sir James Boswell. A second cache of Boswell’s papers was discovered soon after and was also bought by Isham. Both sets of papers were sold but until Lady Malahide tried, without success, to censor some of Boswell’s more explicit descriptions of his sexual encounters.
Boswell’s papers have since been acquired by Yale University. They provide revealing insights into his life and thoughts of Johnson’s biographer. They include voluminous notes on his Grand Tour of Europe, his tour of Scotland with Johnson, and meetings and conversations with eminent members of The Club, including Garrick, Burke, Goldsmith and Reynolds.
Boswell’s statue in Lichfield … a gift to the city by the Irish artist Percy Fitzgerald (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Two well-known statues of Johnson and Boswell are the works of the Irish artist Percy Hetherington Fitzgerald (1834-1925): the statue of Johnson at the east end of Saint Clement Dane’s Church in The Strand, London (1910), and the earlier statue of Boswell (1908) in the Market Place, Lichfield.
Both statues were his own gifts. On the Lichfield statue, Fitzgerald describes himself in the inscription as “Biographer of Boswell and editor of Boswell’s Johnson.” The inscription on the rear or south side reads:
The work/ of/ Percy Fitzgerald MA, FSA/ biographer of Boswell/ also editor of Boswell’s Johnson/ presented by him/ to/ the City of Lichfield/ WR Coleridge-Roberts. Mayor/ Herbert Russell Town Clerk/ 1908.
Boswell’s statue in Lichfield was unveiled on 19 September 1908 by the Revd Robertson Nicoll; Fitzgerald unveiled Johnson’s statue in London himself after Edward VII’s death caused the original date for the unveiling to be postponed.
Presidents of the Johnson Society in the past with Irish connections have included: Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins (1931), author of The Prisoner of Zenda and a descendant of the Comerford-Casey family of Cork and Liverpool through his father, the Revd Edwards Comerford Hawkins of Saint Bride’s, Fleet Street, London; Dr Conor Cruise O’Brien (1993), editor of the Observer, whose presidential lecture was on “Samuel Johnson and Edmund Burke”; and the Irish journalist, broadcaster and author, Frank Delaney (2001), who spoke on “The Presence of Dr Johnson.”
Patrick Comerford
During Lent this year, I am taking time each morning to reflect on words from Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), the Lichfield lexicographer and writer who compiled the first authoritative English-language dictionary.
But as the Saint Patrick’s Festival comes to an end in Ireland I found myself this weekend taking another look at Dr Johnson’s Irish connections, and the interesting Irish figures in his circle of friends.
The great literary theorist Terry Eagleton has described Johnson as being “virulently anti-Gaelic.” Yet Johnson had a wide circle of Irish friends in London, had positive opinions about Irish writers and Irish literature, and was known forever as Doctor Johnson because of the honorary degree he received from Trinity College Dublin.
Johnson had failed to secure a position as a schoolmaster because he did not have a university degree. After his school at Edial near Lichfield turned into a financial disaster, Johnson moved to London. Soon after, while he was living in London and working as journalist, his skills as a writer were recognised with the publication in May 1738 of his poem London, which attracted the praise of Alexander Pope.
Knowing Johnson feared being drawn into the hack journalism of ‘Grub Street’ and still harboured hope of becoming a grammar school teacher, Pope wrote to the Earl Gower asking him to intervene on Johnson’s behalf.
On 1 August 1738, Gower wrote to a friend of Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), Dean of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, asking him to intervene on his behalf so that Johnson might receive the degree MA from Trinity College Dublin. Either Gower’s pleas fell on deaf ears or Swift refused to act; Johnson never received the degree, never worked as a teacher again, and continued to work as a journalist and writer.
Trinity College Dublin ... Samuel Johnson received an honorary doctorate in 1765 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Eventually, with the publication of his Dictionary, Trinity College Dublin bestowed an honorary Doctor of Laws degree on Johnson 250 years ago in 1765, and for ever after he was known as Dr Johnson.
Later, Johnson’s biographer, James Boswell, recalled that Johnson “seemed to me to have an unaccountable prejudice against Swift.” Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s father, Thomas Sheridan (1721-1788) from Co Cavan, was a godson of Swift and once worked in the theatre with David Garrick. According to Boswell, Sheridan imputed Johnson’s views of Swift because the dean “had not been sufficiently active in obtaining for him an Irish degree when it was solicited.”
However, Boswell decided to ask Johnson whether Swift had personally offended him, and “he told me he had not.” Johnson went on to tell Boswell: “Swift is clear, but shallow. In coarse humour he is inferior to Arbuthnot; in delicate humour he is inferior to Addison. So he is inferior to his contemporaries; without putting him against the whole world. I doubt the Tale of a Tub was his: it has so much more thinking, more knowledge, more power, more colour, than any of the works which are indisputably his. If it was his, I shall only say, he was ‘impar sibi’.”
Johnson’s Life of Swift reveals that Johnson actually liked Dean Swift, and commenting on Wood’s Halfpence, he says Swift “delivered Ireland from plunder and oppression, and shewed that wit, confederated with truth, had such force as authority was unable to resist.”
With notes from a collaborator who attended the debates, Johnson evoked Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels in his series of ‘Parliamentary Reports’ disguised as from ‘The Senate of Lilliput.’ The debates were kept secret from the public at the time and it was illegal to reproduce them in print, making it a true test of Johnson’s ability to write imaginative and satiric works.
Another Irish Anglican clergyman who crossed Johnson’s path was the eccentric and erratic Revd Charles Stewart Eccles (1747-1777). Eccles was talented in many ways, and today he is appreciated as a minor artist who exhibited acclaimed paintings and works in crayon.
Eccles was the youngest son of Charles Eccles (1709-1763) of Ecclesville and Fintona, High Sheriff of Co Tyrone, and his wife Rebecca Anne Stewart. He was a student at TCD, but never received a degree. He was involved with the early Methodists, and his doctrine and style of preaching was condemned by his cousin, William Newcome (1729-1800), Bishop of Dromore and later Archbishop of Armagh, and the Rector of Fintona, the Revd Philip Skelton, refused to allow him to preach in what was once his home parish.
Despite his views, Eccles was appointed Rector of Birtsmorton, Worcestershire, in 1771, a living under the patronage of the Co Cavan peer, Charles Coote (1738-1800), Earl of Bellomont. However, Eccles soon left the parish and in 1773 he went to Georgia as a missionary, associated with the George Whitefield and the Countess of Huntingdon. He is said to have become the head of a college in Savannah, but returned to England in 1774.
Back in England, Eccles became entangled in a bizarre controversy when he claimed to have written a popular but anonymous The Man of Feeling (1771), which purported to have been published from a dead man’s papers. Eccles had supported his claim by transcribing the whole novel, adding “an appropriate allowance of what Boswell described as “blottings, interlineations and corrections, that it might be shewn to several people as an original.”
Boswell later pointed out that the true author was Henry Mackenzie, an attorney in the Exchequer in Edinburgh. The publishers were forced to place advertisements in newspapers denying the claims made by Eccles.
As the controversy continued, either by an extraordinary coincidence or as some have suggested by an act of suicide, Eccles died attempting to save a boy drowning in the River Avon near Bath.
Boswell recalls: “Johnson, indeed, from the peculiar features of his literary offspring, might bid defiance to any attempt to appropriate them to others:
But Shakespeare’s magick could not copied be,
Within that circle none durst walk but he.”
Two Church of Ireland bishops who were part of Johnsons inner circle were Thomas Percy of Dromore and Thomas Barnard of Killaloe.
Thomas Percy, Bishop of Dromore (1782-1811), was once described by Archbishop Stuart as “inactive and useless,” but was an important literary figure in his day had a reputation for piety, hospitality and benevolence. He was a member of Johnson’s Literary Club, a friend of Johnson, Goldsmith and Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the editor of the Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, which fired the imagination of Walter Scott.
Bishop Thomas Barnard ... a portrait hanging in the the vestry in Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Thomas Barnard (ca 1727-1806) was part of Johnson’s circle of friends in London while he was Bishop of Killaloe (1780–1794). Barnard, who later became Bishop of Limerick, Ardfert and Aghadoe (1794-1806), was a member of the Literary Club, and his other friends in London included Boswell, Garrick, Goldsmith, Percy, Reynolds and Edmund Burke.
In conversation with Boswell, Dr Johnson once said of Bishop Barnard:
No man ever paid more attention to another than he has done to me … Always, sir, set a high value on spontaneous kindness. He whose inclination prompts him to cultivate his friendship of his own accord, will love you more than one whom you have been at pains to attach to you.
Barnard, for his part, wrote some verses about Johnson that conclude:
Johnson shall teach me how to place
In fairest light each borrow’d grace;
From him I’ll learn to write:
Copy his clear familiar style,
And by the roughness of his file
Grow, like himself, polite.
In 1783, Johnson wrote a charade as a tribute to Barnard:
My first shuts out thieves from your house or your room,
My second expresses a Syrian perfume,
My whole is a man in whose converse is shar’d
The strength of a Bar and the sweetness of Nard.
Oliver Goldsmith’s statue outside Trinity College Dublin, facing College Green and the former Parliament House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Johnson was particularly high in his praise of Oliver Goldsmith. In his Latin epitaph for Goldsmith, Johnson wrote:
Oliver Goldsmith: A Poet, Naturalist, and Historian,
Who left scarcely any style of writing untouched,
And touched nothing that he did not adorn;
Of all passions, whether smiles were to be moved or tears,
A powerful yet gentle master;
In genius, sublime, vivid, versatile,
In style, clear, elevated, elegant -
The love of companions,
The fidelity of friends,
And the veneration of readers,
Have by this monument honoured the memory.
Johnson contributed lines to both The Deserted Village and The Traveller, and he said of Goldsmith’s Traveller: “There has not been so fine a poem since Pope’s time.”
Praising She Stoops To Conquer, Johnson said: “I know of no comedy for many years that has so much exhilarated an audience, that has answered so much the great end of comedy – making an audience merry.”
Edmund Burke’s statue outside Trinity College Dublin, facing College Green and the former Parliament House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The many Irish politicians among Johnson’s friends included Edmund Burke, the brothers Thomas Fitzmaurice and William Fitzmaurice (Lord Lansdowne).
Edmund Burke (1729-1797) was born in Dublin and educated at Trinity College Dublin, although he spent most of his political career in England and as an MP in Westminster. Johnson admired Burke for having a brilliant mind, and at one point of illness asked that Burke be kept away from him, because arguing with Burke would take too much of his energy and might kill him.
Hester Thrale (Mrs Piozzi) quotes Johnson as once saying of Burke: “You could not stand five minutes with that man beneath a shed while it rained, but you must be convinced you had been standing with the greatest man you had ever yet seen.”
While Burke was a member of the Literary Club and they often saw each other, Johnson strongly disagreed with Burke’s politics, which Johnson condemned in his pamphlet The Patriot. Perhaps Johnson had Burke in mind when he made his famous remark about patriotism and scoundrels.
According to Boswell, Johnson said of Burke: “In private life he is a very honest gentleman; but I will not allow him to be so in publick life. People may be honest, though they are doing wrong; that is between their Maker and them. But we, who are suffering by their pernicious conduct, are to destroy them. We are sure that [Burke] acts from interest. We know what his genuine principles were. They who allow their passions to confound the distinctions between right and wrong, are criminal. They may be convinced; but they have not come honestly by their conviction.”
The Hon Thomas Fitzmaurice (1742-1793) was the second son of John Fitzmaurice, Earl of Shelburne. His wife, Lady Mary O’Brien, was a daughter of Murrough O’Brien, 5th Earl of Inchiquin, and in 1790 she inherited the title of Countess of Orkney from her mother.
Thomas Fitzmaurice was a friend of Johnson, Garrick, and the Thrales. Johnson wrote to Fitzmaurice on 7 December 1778, congratulating him on the birth of his son, John Fitzmaurice (1778-1820), styled Viscount Kirkwall, and complimenting his wife and his mother.
Fitzmaurice, who was MP for Calne (1762-1774) and Chipping Wycombe (1774-1780), died at Hampstead on 14 November 1793. After his death, the Gentleman’s Magazine wrote: ‘He formerly lived on the most intimate terms with Johnson, Hawkesworth, and Garrick ... He was the gentleman who from his extensive concerns in the linen manufactory, was called the Royal Merchant.”
His brother, William Fitzmaurice (1737-1805), became 2nd Earl of Shelburne and a prominent statesman. He was British Prime Minister from 1782 to 1783 and Marquess of Lansdowne.
Shelburne has been described as “one of the suppressed characters of English history.” He was highly intelligent, and Johnson praised him as “a man of abilities and information,” open to ideas, and said he “acted like himself, that is, unlike anybody else.”
Other members of Johnson’s Club included Lord Charlemont, the Irish politician, Agmondesham Vesey (1708-1785) of Lucan, Accountant-General of Ireland, and Sir Thomas Charles Bunbury, first husband of Lady Sarah Lennox, later wife of Colonel George Napier of Celbridge, Co Kildare – she was an aunt of Lord Edward FitzGerald.
Johnson was a High Church Anglican, and in his personal piety he was strongly influenced by the piety and the writings of the Caroline Divine Jeremy Taylor, who had been Bishop of Down, Dromore and Connor in the previous century.
In The Life of Samuel Johnson, Sir John Hawkins notes that Johnson constantly read his Greek New Testament, and was well read in Patristics or the writings of the Early Fathers of the Church, and was conversant with the works of the great Anglican writers, including Richard Hooker and the Caroline Divines, as well as The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis.
At times when Johnson “was most distressed,” Hawkins recommended him to read Rules and Exercises of Holy Living and Dying by Jeremy Taylor and his Ductor Dubitantium.
Johnson regarded Jeremy Taylor as the best of “all the divines that have succeeded the fathers.” Johnson was a personal friend of one of Taylor’s successors, Bishop Thomas Percy of Dromore, and in his will left him some of his books. Some years ago [12 August 2009], I was invited to speak about Jeremy Taylor in the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield.
Johnson once adapted these words by Taylor on preparation for receiving the Sacrament of Holy Communion:
It is no great matter to live lovingly and good-natured, with humble and meek persons; but he that can do so with the froward, with the wilful, and the ignorant, with the peevish and perverse, he only hath true charity. Always remembering, that our true solid peace, the peace of God, consists rather in compliance with others, than in being complied with; in suffering and forbearing, rather than in contention and victory.
Johnson’s other Irish friends in London included Arthur Murphy and Charles O’Conor. However, Boswell, in his Life of Johnson records Johnson as having famously said on one occasion:
The Irish are not in a conspiracy to cheat the world by false representations of the merits of their countrymen. No, Sir; the Irish are a fair people; – they never speak well of one another.
Boswell also records the following conversation with Johnson:
He, I know not why, shewed upon all occasions an aversion to go to Ireland, where I proposed to him that we should make a tour.
Johnson: It is the last place where I should wish to travel.
Boswell: Should you not like to see Dublin, Sir?
Johnson: No, Sir; Dublin is only a worse capital.
Boswell: Is not the Giant’s-Causeway worth seeing?
Johnson: Worth seeing, yes; but not worth going to see.
But what did Johnson truly think of Ireland? Boswell recalls Johnson once saying to an Irishman, during a conversation on Ireland’s political state:
Do not make a union with us, Sir. We should unite with you, only to rob you. We should have robbed the Scotch, if they had had any thing of which we could have robbed them.
He also recalls Johnson saying:
The Irish are in a most unnatural state; for we see there the minority prevailing over the majority. There is no instance, even in the ten persecutions, of such severity as that which the Protestants of Ireland have exercised against the Catholicks. Did we tell them we have conquered them, it would be above board: to punish them by confiscation and other penalties, as rebels, was monstrous injustice.
In a letter to the Irish writer and historian Charles O’Conor (1710-1791), Johnson wrote in 1755:
I have long wished that the Irish literature were cultivated. Ireland is known by tradition to have been once the seat of piety and learning; and surely it would be very acceptable to all those who are curious either in the original of nations, or the affinities of languages, to be further informed of the revolution of a people so ancient, and once so illustrious.
Malahide Castle, Co Dublin … James Boswell’s papers were discovered accidentally in the 1920s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)
In an accident of history, the private papers of James Boswell, including intimate journals for much of his life, were discovered in Malahide Castle, Co Dublin, in the 1920s and sold to an American collector Ralph H Isham, by James Boswell Talbot (1874-1948), Lord Talbot de Malahide.
Lord Malahide was Boswell’s great-great-grandson – his mother, Emily Harriet, was a daughter of Sir James Boswell. A second cache of Boswell’s papers was discovered soon after and was also bought by Isham. Both sets of papers were sold but until Lady Malahide tried, without success, to censor some of Boswell’s more explicit descriptions of his sexual encounters.
Boswell’s papers have since been acquired by Yale University. They provide revealing insights into his life and thoughts of Johnson’s biographer. They include voluminous notes on his Grand Tour of Europe, his tour of Scotland with Johnson, and meetings and conversations with eminent members of The Club, including Garrick, Burke, Goldsmith and Reynolds.
Boswell’s statue in Lichfield … a gift to the city by the Irish artist Percy Fitzgerald (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Two well-known statues of Johnson and Boswell are the works of the Irish artist Percy Hetherington Fitzgerald (1834-1925): the statue of Johnson at the east end of Saint Clement Dane’s Church in The Strand, London (1910), and the earlier statue of Boswell (1908) in the Market Place, Lichfield.
Both statues were his own gifts. On the Lichfield statue, Fitzgerald describes himself in the inscription as “Biographer of Boswell and editor of Boswell’s Johnson.” The inscription on the rear or south side reads:
The work/ of/ Percy Fitzgerald MA, FSA/ biographer of Boswell/ also editor of Boswell’s Johnson/ presented by him/ to/ the City of Lichfield/ WR Coleridge-Roberts. Mayor/ Herbert Russell Town Clerk/ 1908.
Boswell’s statue in Lichfield was unveiled on 19 September 1908 by the Revd Robertson Nicoll; Fitzgerald unveiled Johnson’s statue in London himself after Edward VII’s death caused the original date for the unveiling to be postponed.
Presidents of the Johnson Society in the past with Irish connections have included: Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins (1931), author of The Prisoner of Zenda and a descendant of the Comerford-Casey family of Cork and Liverpool through his father, the Revd Edwards Comerford Hawkins of Saint Bride’s, Fleet Street, London; Dr Conor Cruise O’Brien (1993), editor of the Observer, whose presidential lecture was on “Samuel Johnson and Edmund Burke”; and the Irish journalist, broadcaster and author, Frank Delaney (2001), who spoke on “The Presence of Dr Johnson.”
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