Thoughts and Prayers
Quite often when it seems like life is veering out of control, I return to the Samuel Johnson's collected diaries and prayers. Not for their religious content per se, but more as a way of reminding myself that I am not living in isolation, and that I am not the first person to have concerns and anxieties about productivity and moral direction.
I am also interested in the phenomenology of reading prayers as a literary genre, and where "you" fit in to the scheme since, after all, neither the speaking subject nor the addressee are "here". So, do you play the role of "God", listening to Johnson's anxieties? Do you become Johnson, confessing your sins? Does the ethereal, textual presence of Johnson use you to re-broadcast these thoughts and feelings from beyond the grave?
Either way, there are a couple of things that I have been meaning to transcribe: one is his prayer over new study which is somewhat apropos to my current situation, and the other is a meditation of his on the anniversary of his wife's death in 1770. It is heartening to see anxieities over time well used in a person who was one of history's most prolific critics, and, at the same time, emotionally evocative to see how grief creates something other than mere rhetorical beauty in the writing of a known grumbler like SJ.
So, without further ado (with both sources as printed in the Yale Samuel Johnson, 1967).
1. Before Any New Study. [November 1752]
Almighty God, in whose hands are all the powers of man; who givest understanding, and takest it away; who, as it seemeth good unto Thee, enlightenest the thoughts of the simple, and darkenest the meditations of the wise, be present with me in my studies and enquiries.
Grant, O lord, that I may not lavish away the life which Thou hast given me on useless trifles, nor waste it in vain searches after things which Thou hast hidden from me.
Enable me, by the Holy Spirit, so to shun sloth and negligence, that every day may discharge part of the task which Thou hast allotted me; and so further with thy help that labour which, without thy help, must be ineffectual, that I may obtain, in all my undertakings, such successes as will most promote thy glory, and the salvation of my own soul, for the sake of Jesus Christ.
Amen.
2. March 28. Wednesday [1770].
This is the day on which in -52 I was deprived of poor dear Tetty. Having left off the practice of thinking on her with some particular combinations I have recalled her to my mind of late less frequently, but when I recollect the time in which we lived together, my grief for her departure is not abated, and I have less pleasure in any good that befals [sic] me, because she does not partake it. On many occasions I think what she would have said or done. When I saw the sea at Brightelmston I wished for her to have seen it with me. But with respect to her no rational wish is now left but that we may meet at last where the mercy of God shall make us happy, and perhaps instrumental to the happiness of each other. It is now eighteen years.
I am also interested in the phenomenology of reading prayers as a literary genre, and where "you" fit in to the scheme since, after all, neither the speaking subject nor the addressee are "here". So, do you play the role of "God", listening to Johnson's anxieties? Do you become Johnson, confessing your sins? Does the ethereal, textual presence of Johnson use you to re-broadcast these thoughts and feelings from beyond the grave?
Either way, there are a couple of things that I have been meaning to transcribe: one is his prayer over new study which is somewhat apropos to my current situation, and the other is a meditation of his on the anniversary of his wife's death in 1770. It is heartening to see anxieities over time well used in a person who was one of history's most prolific critics, and, at the same time, emotionally evocative to see how grief creates something other than mere rhetorical beauty in the writing of a known grumbler like SJ.
So, without further ado (with both sources as printed in the Yale Samuel Johnson, 1967).
1. Before Any New Study. [November 1752]
Almighty God, in whose hands are all the powers of man; who givest understanding, and takest it away; who, as it seemeth good unto Thee, enlightenest the thoughts of the simple, and darkenest the meditations of the wise, be present with me in my studies and enquiries.
Grant, O lord, that I may not lavish away the life which Thou hast given me on useless trifles, nor waste it in vain searches after things which Thou hast hidden from me.
Enable me, by the Holy Spirit, so to shun sloth and negligence, that every day may discharge part of the task which Thou hast allotted me; and so further with thy help that labour which, without thy help, must be ineffectual, that I may obtain, in all my undertakings, such successes as will most promote thy glory, and the salvation of my own soul, for the sake of Jesus Christ.
Amen.
2. March 28. Wednesday [1770].
This is the day on which in -52 I was deprived of poor dear Tetty. Having left off the practice of thinking on her with some particular combinations I have recalled her to my mind of late less frequently, but when I recollect the time in which we lived together, my grief for her departure is not abated, and I have less pleasure in any good that befals [sic] me, because she does not partake it. On many occasions I think what she would have said or done. When I saw the sea at Brightelmston I wished for her to have seen it with me. But with respect to her no rational wish is now left but that we may meet at last where the mercy of God shall make us happy, and perhaps instrumental to the happiness of each other. It is now eighteen years.