Published anonymously in 1738, “London: A Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal,” is now considered the first major work of the renowned 18th-century poet, critic, and moralist Samuel Johnson. Composed in rhyming couplets in iambic pentameter, and filled with ironical asides, political allusions, and pithy truisms, the poem is a sharp satire on the corruption and vices of the city of London. Johnson wrote the 263-line poem as a close imitation of the Latin satirist Juvenal, a respectable literary exercise in Johnson’s time. Juvenal’s third satire features the character of Umbricius, who leaves corrupt Rome for the pastoral goodness of Cumae; similarly, in “London,” a man named Thales departs London for the Welsh countryside. Upon the publication of “London,” Alexander Pope, one of the most lauded poets of the day, presciently marked the anonymous young writer as someone who would emerge prominently on the literary scene.

Poet Biography

Samuel Johnson, also known as Dr. Johnson, is best known for his poems, essays, and contributions to lexicography; his A Dictionary of the English Language (1755) is considered the first English dictionary. So great was Johnson’s influence that the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography calls him “arguably the most distinguished man of letters in English history.”

Johnson was born on September 18, 1709, in Lichfield of Staffordshire, England. A bright student, he attended Pembroke College in Oxford but was forced to leave as his family fell into penury. After teaching to make ends meet, Johnson moved to London in 1737 to build a literary career. Johnson published his first works, including “London,” anonymously, partly because of his Tory and Anglican beliefs. A committed member of the Anglican Church and a supporter of the primacy of the monarchy, Johnson often found himself opposed to the Whig majority of his day.

Johnson’s literary star rose with the publication of the Dictionary, and in the latter part of his life, he became famous for his sociopolitical essays and works of literary criticism, such as his annotations on the complete works of Shakespeare (1765) and the Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets (1779-1781). In 1763, Johnson became friends with James Boswell, who would go on to become his biographer, publishing the massively influential Life of Samuel Johnson (1791). After living with various physical and mental health conditions—including Tourette syndrome and depression (both diagnosed posthumously)—Johnson died in 1784 and was buried at Westminster Abbey.

Poem Text

Johnson, Samuel. “London: A Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal.” 1738. Representative Poetry Online.

Summary

As the injured Thales prepares to leave the city, the speaker is torn between grief at separating from his friend and admiration for his difficult decision. Rather than suffer the indignity of life in London, Thales has chosen to live in Scotland as a “hermit” (Line 4)—a decision the speaker concurred with, as who in their right mind would choose “the Strand” (Line 10), or the busy heart of London, over the fair countries of Ireland or Scotland? In the countryside, accidents and crimes do not unexpectedly kill people, and those who survive the lack of food there simply die of old age. But in London, hatred, rape, accidents, conspiracies, riots, and fires hunt people at every step. “Relentless ruffians” (Line 15) lie in ambush, and corrupt attorneys look to frame people in fake cases. A “female atheist” (Line 18) can kill one just with her talk. As Thales awaits the ferry that will take him to his ship, his friends stand with him on the bank of the Thames, from which they can see Greenwich, where Queen Elizabeth I was born. They kneel and kiss this hallowed ground, recalling the former glory of Britain, such as when the Spanish Armada was defeated under Queen Elizabeth’s rule. The speaker wishes such days would return. However, in the present, Spanish coast guards attack Britain at will while the Prime Minister stands by doing nothing, unfair taxes are levied, and masked balls promote lechery. For a brief moment, the beautiful vistas of the Thames “lull the sense of woe” (Line 32) clouding Thales and his friends, but Thales soon snaps out of his reverie.

Thales makes a going-away speech. Surveying London, Thales exclaims that times are too terrible to live there. People no longer pursue knowledge for its own sake, but for the “cheap reward of empty praise” (Line 36). Within the walls of London, the aim of life is only profit and dubious pleasure. Since life is short and Thales still young, may God grant him a happier place where honesty and reason are still valued, and nature still rules. Let the corrupt dwell in London, where people can be incited by bribes to besmirch a true patriot and to extol a debauched courtier. Let such people “plead for pirates” (Line 54) shamelessly and poison the country’s youth, lie, build mansions out of ill-gotten wealth, and fill the theater with immoral “warbling eunuchs” (Line 59) or foreign opera singers. Let their song lull the age into dark thoughtlessness. Thales is bidding it all goodbye.

Thales sarcastically calls the corrupt “heroes” (Line 61) and asks them to proceed in looting the country. All the wealth, fame, and lives of the virtuous now belong to the corrupt. In such a tableau, what hope is left for Thales, who blushes even at the thought of theft and deceit? Though Thales sings in the court of Britain, he can never claim another poet’s song as his own. He remains unconvinced by the arguments of politicians, and falls asleep reading the fake stories in the Daily Gazetteer. Thales laughs at fools who spend half their salaries on fashion, but finds it difficult to spare a smile for the crude jokes of government-mouthpiece orator Henley. Hope now remains in London only for the corrupt people he mentioned earlier—those who with “softer smiles, and subtler art” (Line 75) rob a virgin of her innocence and taint the principles of the naïve by offering bribes. Let them ascend in London, while Thales, whose honest tongue cannot hide the truth or embellish lies, is called a spy and a beggar. Let Thales live and die in obscurity, but without shame. The crooked, who thrive in the city, are not burdened by “social guilt” (Line 83) or social responsibility. Sharing the crimes of Orgilio (a fictional racketeer), they partake his fortunes as well. Thales scorns every glittering bribe, rather than follow the example of the greedy Duke of Marlborough or Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, who squandered his wealth. Thales will never sell what money should not be able to buy: a peaceful night’s sleep, an unsullied reputation, and an unburdened conscience.

In a nation which is being cheated, the government favors villains. The great men now patronize charlatans and frown on honest patriots like Thales, turning London into cities as corrupt as Paris and ancient Rome. Moreover, London feasts on “the dregs of each corrupted state” (Line 96), draining the cities of the British Empire’s provinces. Thales asks his friends’ forgiveness for going on about this subject, but he can’t stand the corruption of a “French metropolis” (Line 98). On the subject of France: Long ago, in the times of King Edward III, France was thoroughly defeated by England, back when England was the country of “heroes and saints” (Line 100). But today that old grandeur and grace has been lost; England is becoming an imitation of its former prey, France and of Spain. Warriors have become courtiers, and “sense, freedom, piety, refin’d away” (Line 105).

Meanwhile, émigrés from the continent are also adding to England’s woes: Those who cannot beg or steal any more in France for fear of being broken on the wheel (the mode of Capital punishment in that continental country) come into Britain. They fool the English with their fawning manner and sweet words. The French have infiltrated every industry in Britain, since they know all manner of trades, from cleaning shoes, to curing the “clap” (Line 114), or syphilis. A hungry and eager French monsieur knows all sciences, and is even ready to go to hell if so commanded. Thales, on the other hand, grew up far away from such slavish manners, breathing in pure English air and singing of the glories of King Henry V, who won many battles against France. Such an education no longer counts because England, the foolish conqueror, allows itself to be chained by France. "Studious to please, and ready to submit” (Line 123), the French have a natural inclination to be parasites. Wherever they go, they think only of their own interests, praising the English falsely and charming them with their fake manner. Try as they might, the rugged English cannot copy this art from the French. Instead, they end up making utter fools of themselves. French actors now dominate the English stage; their skill at artificiality is so developed that French actors can even sweat in chilly December and shiver with cold in the summer. With them around, how can the virtuous find patrons and friends? The virtuous are bound to critique, but fake friends “exalt each trifle, ev’ry vice adore” (Line 148), admiring even the predilection for addictive snuff and prostitutes. They even praise Balbo—an imaginary bumbling stock character—for his fine speech and portray him like a king. Seemingly uncritical and perpetually fawning, Frenchmen and their imitators work their way into homes and hearts. Once people begin to trust them, they pay back this ill-advised confidence with betrayal.

Today, crimes are so numerous that committing a crime is no longer a sin. The only sin that remains is poverty. The law pursues only those living in poverty; the serious law enforcement officer chases only a person wearing a tattered coat. When lawyers harass “the poor” (Line 170) in courtrooms, “silken courtiers” (Line 164) or politicians enjoy the show and taunt the victims in a thousand ways. Of all the sorrows, the worst is this kind of mockery, especially when it comes from evil fools. Is there a wasteland or an unknown island for “the poor” (Line 170) to escape to? Is there a desert that Spain may have not yet colonized? Let Thales and his friends head to this place quick before it gets discovered. Everyone knows that worth hidden by poverty is slow to be acknowledged, especially in money-minded London. From smiles to loyalty, everything is for sale here. However, when a frightened crowd’s cries and the sounds of thunder suggest a fire has broken out, the fire can approach the home of an individual living in poverty and destroy all their belongings, leaving them to roam the world like a vagrant, without anyone intervening. On the other hand, if lightning were to rightfully set fire to the palace of Orgilio, the event would be mourned officially. Poets would compose lamenting verses. Officials would refund Orgilio, the plunderer of land, and admire the new gleaming marble palace he erects. Orgilio would make so much money, he would wish for another fire to strike his mansion.

In the countryside near the rivers Severn or Trent, one could rent the abandoned estate of a member of the parliament for less than what they would pay for the “dungeons of the Strand” (Line 215). Attending to its neglected gardens and rivers, one could live a simple lifestyle, even though surrounded by the luxurious trappings of a corrupt politician. Nature’s music would sound from every shrub, its beauty a reward for hard work. But choosing to remain in London means updating one’s will and being prepared to die. In London, any fool who has bought his commission in the army may kill you just to prove his valor. A drunkard may provoke a decent citizen into a murderous joust. Packs of young, rich hooligans terrorize and mock the virtuous and “the poor” (Line 233), as the lights of their carriage shine dread in the hearts of ordinary people. Though people close their doors against this onslaught, they can’t escape it. One might encounter a young hooligan in a bar and get stabbed. Meanwhile, elected officials do nothing about this lawlessness, since they are too busy getting political prisoners executed at the gallows. Fields have run out of hemp to make hanging ropes. Though one advantage is that now there isn’t enough rope to pull the upcoming spring convoy of the corrupt king. How different things were during the reign of King Alfred, when a single jail could house half the nation’s criminals. Back then, Lady Justice held up her scales fairly, but lowered her sword (i.e., executions were few). No one could ask for a rigged jury to influence trials.

Thales could go on, but he sees his boat approaching and bids his friends farewell. He hopes his friends will follow him into the wilds once they are old or tired of London’s follies. They will always find a place with him, who will remain a steadfast “foe to vice” (Line 261). Once more will Thales direct his rage against folly and animate the page with satire.