|
BOSWELL'S
LIFE OF JOHNSON
INCLUDING BOSWELL'S JOURNAL OF A TOUR TO THE HEBRIDES,
AND JOHNSON'S DIARY OF A JOURNEY INTO NORTH WALES
EDITED BY
GEORGE BIRKBECK HILL, D.C.L.
PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD
IN SIX VOLUMES
VOLUME II.--LIFE (1765-1776)
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. (NOVEMBER, 1765-MARCH, 1776)
APPENDICES:
A. AUTOGRAPH RECORDS BY JOHNSON (1766) IN THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY
B. JOHNSON'S SENTIMENTS TOWARDS HIS FELLOW-SUBJECTS IN AMERICA
THE LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.
In 1764 and 1765 it should seem that Dr. Johnson was so busily employed
with his edition of Shakspeare, as to have had little leisure for any
other literary exertion, or, indeed, even for private correspondence[1].
He did not favour me with a single letter for more than two years, for
which it will appear that he afterwards apologised.
[Footnote 1: Had he been 'busily employed' he would, no doubt, have
finished the edition in a few months. He himself had recorded at Easter,
1765: 'My time has been unprofitably spent, and seems as a dream that
has left nothing behind.' _Pr. and Med._, p. 61.]
He was, however, at all times ready to give assistance to his friends,
and others, in revising their works, and in writing for them, or greatly
improving their Dedications. In that courtly species of composition no
man excelled Dr. Johnson. Though the loftiness of his mind prevented him
from ever dedicating in his own person[1], he wrote a very great number
of Dedications for others. Some of these, the persons who were favoured
with them are unwilling should be mentioned, from a too anxious
apprehension, as I think, that they might be suspected of having
received larger assistance[2]; and some, after all the diligence I have
bestowed, have escaped my enquiries. He told me, a great many years ago,
'he believed he had dedicated to all the Royal Family round[3];' and it
was indifferent to him what was the subject of the work dedicated,
provided it were innocent. He once dedicated some Musick for the German
Flute to Edward, Duke of York. In writing Dedications for others, he
considered himself as by no means speaking his own sentiments.
[Footnote 1: Dedications had been commonly used as a means of getting
money by flattery. I. D'Israeli in his _Calamities of Authors_, i. 64,
says:--'Fuller's _Church History_ is disgraced by twelve particular
dedications. It was an expedient to procure dedication fees; for
publishing books by subscription was an art not yet discovered.' The
price of the dedication of a play was, he adds, in the time of George I,
twenty guineas. So much then, at least, Johnson lost by not dedicating
_Irene_. However, when he addressed the _Plan of his Dictionary_ to Lord
Chesterfield (_ante_, i. 183) he certainly came very near a dedication.
Boswell, in the _Hypochondriack_, writes:--'For my own part, I own I am
proud enough. But I do not relish the stateliness of not dedicating at
all. I prefer pleasure to pride, and it appears to me that there is much
pleasure in honestly expressing one's admiration, esteem, or affection
in a public manner, and in thus contributing to the happiness of another
by making him better pleased with himself.' _London Mag._ for 1782, p.
454. His dedications were dedications of friendship, not of flattery or
servility. He dedicated his _Tour to Corsica_ to Paoli, his _Tour to the
Hebrides_ to Malone, and his _Life of Johnson_ to Sir Joshua Reynolds.
Goldsmith, in like manner, distrest though he so often was, dedicated
his _Traveller_ to his brother, the _Deserted Village_ to Sir Joshua,
and _She Stoops to Conquer_ to Johnson.]
[Footnote 2: A passage in Boswell's letter to Malone of Jan. 29, 1791
(Croker's _Boswell_, p. 829), shows that it is Reynolds of whom he is
writing. 'I am,' he writes, 'to cancel a leaf of the first volume,
having found that though Sir Joshua certainly assured me he had no
objection to my mentioning that Johnson wrote a dedication for him, he
now thinks otherwise. In that leaf occurs the mention of Johnson having
written to Dr. Leland, thanking the University of Dublin for their
diploma.' In the first edition, this mention of the letter is followed
by the passage above about dedications. It was no doubt Reynolds's
_Dedication of his Discourses_ to the King in the year 1778 that Johnson
wrote. The first sentence is in a high degree Johnsonian. 'The regular
progress of cultivated life is from necessaries to accommodations, from
accommodations to ornaments.']
[Footnote 3: 'That is to say,' he added, 'to the last generation of the
Royal Family.' See _post_, April 15, 1773. We may hope that the Royal
Family were not all like the Duke of Gloucester, who, when Gibbon
brought him the second volume of the _Decline and Fall_, 'received him
with much good nature and affability, saying to him, as he laid the
quarto on the table, "Another d----d thick, square book! Always
scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh! Mr. Gibbon?"' Best's _Memorials_, p.
68.]
Notwithstanding his long silence, I never omitted to write to him when I
had any thing worthy of communicating. I generally kept copies of my
letters to him, that I might have a full view of our correspondence, and
never be at a loss to understand any reference in his letters[1]. He
kept the greater part of mine very carefully; and a short time before
his death was attentive enough to seal them up in bundles, and order
them to be delivered to me, which was accordingly done. Amongst them I
found one, of which I had not made a copy, and which I own I read with
pleasure at the distance of almost twenty years. It is dated November,
1765, at the palace of Pascal Paoli, in Corte, the capital of Corsica,
and is full of generous enthusiasm [2]. After giving a sketch of what I
had seen and heard in that island, it proceeded thus: 'I dare to call
this a spirited tour. I dare, to challenge your approbation.'
[Footnote 1: Such care was needless. Boswell complained (_post_, June
24, 1774), that Johnson did not _answer_ his letters, but only sent him
_returns_.]
[Footnote 2: 'On one of the days that my ague disturbed me least, I
walked from the convent to Corte, purposely to write a letter to Mr.
Samuel Johnson. I told my revered friend, that from a kind of
superstition agreeable in a certain degree to him as well as to myself,
I had, during my travels, written to him from Loca Solennia, places in
some measure sacred. That, as I had written to him from the tomb of
Melancthon (see _post_, June 28, 1777), sacred to learning and piety, I
now wrote to him from the palace of Pascal Paoli, sacred to wisdom and
liberty.' Boswell's _Tour to Corsica_, p. 218. How delighted would
Boswell have been had he lived to see the way in which he is spoken of
by the biographer of Paoli: 'En traversant la Mediterranee sur de freles
navires pour venir s'asseoir au foyer de la nationalite Corse, _des
hommes graves_ tels que Boswel et Volney obeissaient sans doute a un
sentiment bien plus eleve qu' au besoin vulgaire d'une puerile
curiosite.' _Histoire de Pascal Paoli_, par A. Arrighi, i. 231. By every
Corsican of any education the name of Boswell is known and honoured. One
of them told me that it was in Boswell's pages that Paoli still lived
for them. He informed me also of a family which still preserved by
tradition the remembrance of Boswell's visit to their ancestral home.]
This letter produced the following answer, which I found on my arrival
at Paris.
A Mr. Mr. BOSWELL, chez Mr. WATERS, Banquier, a Paris.
'DEAR SIR,
'Apologies are seldom of any use. We will delay till your arrival the
reasons, good or bad, which have made me such a sparing and ungrateful
correspondent. Be assured, for the present, that nothing has lessened
either the esteem or love with which I dismissed you at Harwich. Both
have been increased by all that I have been told of you by yourself or
others; and[1] when you return, you will return to an unaltered, and, I
hope, unalterable friend.
[Footnote 1: The twelve following lines of this letter were published by
Boswell in his _Corsica_ (p. 219) without Johnson's leave. (See _post_,
March 23, 1768.) Temple, to whom the book had been shewn before
publication, had, it should seem, advised Boswell to omit this extract.
Boswell replied:--'Your remarks are of great service to me ... but I
must have my great preceptor, Mr. Johnson, introduced.' _Letters of
Boswell_, p. 122. In writing to excuse himself to Johnson (_post_, April
26, 1768), he says, 'the temptation to publishing it was so strong.']
'All that you have to fear from me is the vexation of disappointing me.
No man loves to frustrate expectations which have been formed in his
favour; and the pleasure which I promise myself from your journals and
remarks is so great, that perhaps no degree of attention or discernment
will be sufficient to afford it.
'Come home, however, and take your chance. I long to see you, and to
hear you; and hope that we shall not be so long separated again. Come
home, and expect such a welcome as is due to him whom a wise and noble
curiosity has led, where perhaps no native of this country ever was
before[1].
[Footnote 1: 'Tell your Court,' said Paoli to Boswell, 'what you have
seen here. They will be curious to ask you. A man come from Corsica will
be like a man come from the Antipodes.' Boswell's _Corsica_, p. 188. He
was not indeed the first 'native of this country' to go there. He found
in Bastia 'an English woman of Penrith, in Cumberland. When the
Highlanders marched through that country in the year 1745, she had
married a soldier of the French picquets in the very midst of all the
confusion and danger, and when she could hardly understand one word he
said.' _Ib_, p. 226. Boswell nowhere quotes Mrs. Barbauld's fine lines
on Corsica. Perhaps he was ashamed of the praise of the wife of 'a
little Presbyterian parson who kept an infant boarding school.' (See
_post_, under Dec. 17, 1775.) Yet he must have been pleased when he
read:--
'Such were the working thoughts which swelled the breast
Of generous Boswell; when with nobler aim
And views beyond the narrow beaten track
By trivial fancy trod, he turned his course
From polished Gallia's soft delicious vales,' &c.
Mrs. Barbauld's _Poems_, i. 2.]
'I have no news to tell you that can deserve your notice; nor would I
willingly lessen the pleasure that any novelty may give you at your
return. I am afraid we shall find it difficult to keep among us a mind
which has been so long feasted with variety. But let us try what esteem
and kindness can effect.
'As your father's liberality has indulged you with so long a ramble, I
doubt not but you will think his sickness, or even his desire to see
you, a sufficient reason for hastening your return. The longer we live,
and the more we think, the higher value we learn to put on the
friendship and tenderness of parents and of friends. Parents we can have
but once; and he promises himself too much, who enters life with the
expectation of finding many friends. Upon some motive, I hope, that you
will be here soon; and am willing to think that it will be an inducement
to your return, that it is sincerely desired by, dear Sir,
'Your affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Johnson's Court, Fleet-street,
January 14, 1766.'
I returned to London in February, and found Dr. Johnson in a good house
in Johnson's Court, Fleet-street[1], in which he had accommodated Miss
Williams with an apartment on the ground floor, while Mr. Levett
occupied his post in the garret: his faithful Francis was still
attending upon him. He received me with much kindness. The fragments of
our first conversation, which I have preserved, are these: I told him
that Voltaire, in a conversation with me, had distinguished Pope and
Dryden thus:--'Pope drives a handsome chariot, with a couple of neat
trim nags; Dryden a coach, and six stately horses.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir,
the truth is, they both drive coaches and six; but Dryden's horses are
either galloping or stumbling: Pope's go at a steady even trot[2].' He
said of Goldsmith's _Traveller_, which had been published in my absence,
'There has not been so fine a poem since Pope's time.'
[Footnote 1: Murphy, in the _Monthly Review_, lxxvi. 376, thus describes
Johnson's life in Johnson's Court after he had received his pension.
'His friend Levett, his physician in ordinary, paid his daily visits
with assiduity; attended at all hours, made tea all the morning, talked
what he had to say, and did not expect an answer; or, if occasion
required it, was mute, officious, and ever complying.... There Johnson
sat every morning, receiving visits, hearing the topics of the day, and
indolently trifling away the time. Chymistry afforded some amusement.'
Hawkins (_Life_, p. 452), says:--'An upper room, which had the
advantages of a good light and free air, he fitted up for a study. A
silver standish and some useful plate, which he had been prevailed on to
accept as pledges of kindness from some who most esteemed him, together
with furniture that would not have disgraced a better dwelling, banished
those appearances of squalid indigence which, in his less happy days,
disgusted those who came to see him.' Some of the plate Johnson had
bought. See _post_, April 15, 1781.]
[Footnote 2: It is remarkable, that Mr. Gray has employed somewhat the
same image to characterise Dryden. He, indeed, furnishes his car with
but two horses, but they are of 'ethereal race':
'Behold where Dryden's less presumptuous car,
Wide o'er the fields of glory bear
Two coursers of ethereal race,
With necks in thunder cloath'd, and long resounding pace.'
_Ode on the Progress of Poesy_. BOSWELL. In the '_Life of Pope (Works_,
viii. 324) Johnson says:--'The style of Dryden is capricious and varied;
that of Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his
own mind; Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of composition.
Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid; Pope is always smooth, uniform,
and gentle.']
And here it is proper to settle, with authentick precision, what has
long floated in publick report, as to Johnson's being himself the
authour of a considerable part of that poem. Much, no doubt, both of the
sentiments and expression, were derived from conversation with him; and
it was certainly submitted to his friendly revision: but in the year
1783, he, at my request, marked with a pencil the lines which he had
furnished, which are only line 420th,
'To stop too fearful, and too faint to go;'
and the concluding ten lines, except the last couplet but one, which I
distinguish by the Italick character:
'How small of all that human hearts endure,
That part which kings or laws[1] can cause or cure.
Still to ourselves in every place consign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find[2];
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy,
Glides the smooth current of domestick joy:
_The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,
Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel_,
To men remote from power, but rarely known,
Leave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own.'
[Footnote 1: In the original _laws or kings_.]
[Footnote 2:
'The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.'
_Paradise Lost_, i. 254.
'Caelum, non animum, mutant qui
trans mare current.'
Horace, _Epis_. i. II. 27. See also _ante_, i. 381. note 2.]
He added, 'These are all of which I can be sure[1].' They bear a small
proportion to the whole, which consists of four hundred and thirty-eight
verses. Goldsmith, in the couplet which he inserted, mentions Luke as a
person well known, and superficial readers have passed it over quite
smoothly; while those of more attention have been as much perplexed by
_Luke_, as by _Lydiat_[2], in _The Vanity of Human Wishes_. The truth
is, that Goldsmith himself was in a mistake. In the _Respublica
Hungarian_[3], there is an account of a desperate rebellion in the year
1514, headed by two brothers, of the name of _Zeck_, George and Luke.
When it was quelled, _George_, not _Luke_, was punished by his head
being encircled with a red-hot iron crown: '_corona candescente ferrea
coronatur_[4].' The same severity of torture was exercised on the Earl
of Athol, one of the murderers of King James I. of Scotland.
[Footnote 1: 'I once inadvertently put him,' wrote Reynolds, 'in a
situation from which none but a man of perfect integrity could extricate
himself. I pointed at some lines in _The Traveller_ which I told him I
was sure he wrote. He hesitated a little; during this hesitation I
recollected myself, that, as I knew he would not lie, I put him in a
cleft-stick, and should have had but my due if he had given me a rough
answer; but he only said, 'Sir, I did not write them, but that you may
not imagine that I have wrote more than I really have, the utmost I have
wrote in that poem, to the best of my recollection, is not more than
eighteen lines. [Nine seems the actual number.] It must be observed
there was then an opinion about town that Dr. Johnson wrote the whole
poem for his friend, who was then in a manner an unknown writer.'
Taylor's _Reynolds_, ii. 458. See also _post_, April 9, 1778. For each
line of _The Traveller_ Goldsmith was paid 11-1/4d. (_ante_, i. 193,
note), Johnson's present, therefore, of nine lines was, if reckoned in
money, worth 8/5-1/4.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 194, note.]
[Footnote 3: _Respublica et Status Regni Hungariae. Ex Officina
Elzeviriana_, 1634, p. 136. This work belongs to the series of
_Republics_ mentioned by Johnson, _post_, under April 29, 1776.]
[Footnote 4: '"Luke" had been taken simply for the euphony of the line.
He was one of two brothers, Dosa.... The origin of the mistake [of Zeck
for Dosa] is curious. The two brothers belonged to one of the native
races of Transylvania called Szeklers or Zecklers, which descriptive
addition follows their names in the German biographical authorities; and
this, through abridgment and misapprehension, in subsequent books came
at last to be substituted for the family name.' Forster's _Goldsmith_,
i. 370. The iron crown was not the worst of the tortures inflicted.]
Dr. Johnson at the same time favoured me by marking the lines which he
furnished to Goldsmith's _Deserted Village_, which are only the last
four:
'That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away:
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.'
Talking of education, 'People have now a days, (said he,) got a strange
opinion that every thing should be taught by lectures. Now, I cannot see
that lectures can do so much good as reading the books from which the
lectures are taken. I know nothing that can be best taught by
lectures[1], except where experiments are to be shewn. You may teach
chymistry by lectures.--You might teach making of shoes by lectures[2]!'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, April 15, 1781. In 1748 Johnson had written
(_Works_, v. 231): 'At a time when so many schemes of education have
been projected.... so many schools opened for general knowledge, and so
many lectures in particular sciences attended.' Goldsmith, in his _Life
of Nash_ (published in 1762), describes the lectures at Bath 'on the
arts and sciences which are frequently taught there in a pretty,
superficial manner so as not to tease the understanding while they
afford the imagination some amusement.' Cunningham's _Goldsmith's
Works_, iv 59.]
[Footnote 2: Perhaps Gibbon had read this passage at the time when he
wrote in his Memoirs:--'It has indeed been observed, nor is the
observation absurd, that, excepting in experimental sciences which
demand a costly apparatus and a dexterous hand, the many valuable
treatises that have been published on every subject of learning may now
supersede the ancient mode of oral instruction.' Gibbon's _Misc. Works_,
i. 50. See _post_, March 20, 1776, note.]
At night I supped with him at the Mitre tavern, that we might renew our
social intimacy at the original place of meeting. But there was now a
considerable difference in his way of living. Having had an illness, in
which he was advised to leave off wine, he had, from that period,
continued to abstain from it, and drank only water, or lemonade[1].
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 103.]
I told him that a foreign friend of his[1], whom I had met with abroad,
was so wretchedly perverted to infidelity, that he treated the hopes of
immortality with brutal levity; and said, 'As man dies like a dog, let
him lie like a dog.' JOHNSON. '_If_ he dies like a dog, _let_ him lie
like a dog.' I added, that this man said to me, 'I hate mankind, for I
think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, he must be very singular in his opinion, if he thinks himself one
of the best of men; for none of his friends think him so.'--He said, 'no
honest man could be a Deist; for no man could be so after a fair
examination of the proofs of Christianity.' I named Hume[2]. JOHNSON.
'No, Sir; Hume owned to a clergyman in the bishoprick of Durham, that he
had never read the New Testament with attention.' I mentioned Hume's
notion[3], that all who are happy are equally happy; a little miss with
a new gown at a dancing school ball, a general at the head of a
victorious army, and an orator, after having made an eloquent speech in
a great assembly. JOHNSON. 'Sir, that all who are happy, are equally
happy, is not true. A peasant and a philosopher may be equally
_satisfied_, but not equally _happy_. Happiness consists in the
multiplicity of agreeable consciousness. A peasant has not capacity for
having equal happiness with a philosopher.' I remember this very
question very happily illustrated in opposition to Hume, by the Reverend
Mr. Robert Brown[4], at Utrecht. 'A small drinking-glass and a large
one, (said he,) may be equally full; but the large one holds more than
the small.'
[Footnote 1: Baretti was in Italy at the same time as Boswell. That they
met seems to be shewn by a passage in Boswell's letter (_post_, Nov. 6,
1766). Malone wrote of him:--'He appears to be an infidel.' Prior's
_Malone_, p. 399.]
[Footnote 2: Lord Charlemont records (_Life_, i. 235) that 'Mrs. Mallet,
meeting Hume at an assembly, boldly accosted him in these words:--"Mr.
Hume, give me leave to introduce myself to you; we deists ought to know
each other." "Madame," replied Hume, "I am no deist. I do not style
myself so, neither do I desire to be known by that appellation."' Hume,
in 1763 or 1764, wrote to Dr. Blair about the men of letters at
Paris:--'It would give you and Robertson great satisfaction to find that
there is not a single deist among them.' J. H. Burton's _Hume_, ii. 181.
There was no deist, I suppose, because they were all atheists. Romilly
(_Life_, i. 179) records the following anecdote, which he had from
Diderot in 1781:--'Hume dina avec une grande compagnie chez le Baron
d'Holbach. Il etait assis a cote du Baron; on parla de la religion
naturelle. "Pour les Athees," disait Hume, "je ne crois pas qu'il en
existe; je n'en ai jamais vu." "Vous avez ete un peu malheureux,"
repondit l'autre, "vous voici a table avec dix-sept pour la premiere
fois."' It was on the same day that Diderot related this that he said to
Romilly, 'Il faut _sabrer_ la theologie.']
[Footnote 3: 'The inference upon the whole is, that it is not from the
value or worth of the object which any person pursues that we can
determine his enjoyment; but merely from the passion with which he
pursues it, and the success which he meets with in his pursuit. Objects
have absolutely no worth or value in themselves. They derive their worth
merely from the passion. If that be strong and steady and successful,
the person is happy. It cannot reasonably be doubted but a little miss,
dressed in a new gown for a dancing-school ball, receives as complete
enjoyment as the greatest orator, who triumphs in the splendour of his
eloquence, while he governs the passions and resolutions of a numerous
assembly.' Hume's _Essays_, i. 17 (_The Sceptic_). Pope had written in
the _Essay on Man_ (iv. 57):
'Condition, circumstance, is not the thing;
Bliss is the same in subject or in King.'
See also _post_, April 15, 1778.]
[Footnote 4: In _Boswelliana_, p. 220, a brief account is given of his
life, which was not altogether uneventful.]
Dr. Johnson was very kind this evening, and said to me, 'You have now
lived five-and-twenty years, and you have employed them well.' 'Alas,
Sir, (said I,) I fear not. Do I know history? Do I know mathematicks? Do
I know law?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, though you may know no science so well
as to be able to teach it, and no profession so well as to be able to
follow it, your general mass of knowledge of books and men renders you
very capable to make yourself master of any science, or fit yourself for
any profession.' I mentioned that a gay friend had advised me against
being a lawyer, because I should be excelled by plodding block-heads.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, in the formulary and statutory part of law, a
plodding block-head may excel; but in the ingenious and rational part of
it a plodding block-head can never excel.'
I talked of the mode adopted by some to rise in the world, by courting
great men, and asked him whether he had ever submitted to it. JOHNSON.
'Why, Sir, I never was near enough to great men, to court them. You may
be prudently attached to great men and yet independent. You are not to
do what you think wrong; and, Sir, you are to calculate, and not pay too
dear for what you get. You must not give a shilling's worth of court for
six-pence worth of good. But if you can get a shilling's worth of good
for six-pence worth of court, you are a fool if you do not pay
court[1].'
[Footnote 1: We may compare with this what he says in _The Rambler_, No.
21, about the 'cowardice which always encroaches fast upon such as spend
their time in the company of persons higher than themselves.' In No. 104
he writes:--'It is dangerous for mean minds to venture themselves within
the sphere of greatness.' In the court that Boswell many years later
paid to Lord Lonsdale, he suffered all the humiliations that the
brutality of this petty greatness can inflict. _Letters of Boswell_, p.
324. See also _post_, Sept. 22, 1777.]
He said, 'If convents should be allowed at all, they should only be
retreats for persons unable to serve the publick, or who have served it.
It is our first duty to serve society, and, after we have done that, we
may attend wholly to the salvation of our own souls. A youthful passion
for abstracted devotion should not be encouraged[1].'
[Footnote 1: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 19, 1773.]
I introduced the subject of second sight, and other mysterious
manifestations; the fulfilment of which, I suggested, might happen by
chance. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but they have happened so often, that
mankind have agreed to think them not fortuitous[1].'
[Footnote 1: Johnson (_Works_, ix. 107) thus sums up his examination of
second-sight:--'There is against it, the seeming analogy of things
confusedly seen, and little understood; and for it, the indistinct cry
of natural persuasion, which may be, perhaps, resolved at last into
prejudice and tradition. I never could advance my curiosity to
conviction; but came away at last only willing to believe.' See also
_post_, March 24, 1775. Hume said of the evidence in favour of
second-sight--:'As finite added to finite never approaches a hair's
breadth nearer to infinite, so a fact incredible in itself acquires not
the smallest accession of probability by the accumulation of testimony.'
J. H. Burton's Hume, i. 480.]
I talked to him a great deal of what I had seen in Corsica, and of my
intention to publish an account of it. He encouraged me by saying, 'You
cannot go to the bottom of the subject; but all that you tell us will be
new to us. Give us as many anecdotes as you can[1].'
[Footnote 1: 'I love anecdotes,' said Johnson. Boswell's _Hebridge_,
Aug. 16, 1773. Boswell said that 'Johnson always condemned the word
_anecdotes_, as used in the sense that the French, and we from them, use
it, as signifying particulars.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 311. In his
_Dictionary_, he defined '_Anecdotes_ Something yet unpublished; secret
history.' In the fourth edition he added: 'It is now used, after the
French, for a biographical incident; a minute passage of private life.']
Our next meeting at the Mitre was on Saturday the 15th of February, when
I presented to him my old and most intimate friend, the Reverend Mr.
Temple[1], then of Cambridge. I having mentioned that I had passed some
time with Rousseau in his wild retreat[2], and having quoted some remark
made by Mr. Wilkes, with whom I had spent many pleasant hours in Italy,
Johnson said (sarcastically,) 'It seems, Sir, you have kept very good
company abroad, Rousseau and Wilkes!' Thinking it enough to defend one
at a time, I said nothing as to my gay friend, but answered with a
smile, 'My dear Sir, you don't call Rousseau bad company. Do you really
think him a bad man?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, if you are talking jestingly of
this, I don't talk with you. If you mean to be serious, I think him one
of the worst of men; a rascal who ought to be hunted out of society, as
he has been. Three or four nations have expelled him; and it is a shame
that he is protected in this country[3].' BOSWELL. 'I don't deny, Sir,
but that his novel[4] may, perhaps, do harm; but I cannot think his
intention was bad.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, that will not do. We cannot prove any
man's intention to be bad. You may shoot a man through the head, and say
you intended to miss him; but the Judge will order you to be hanged. An
alleged want of intention, when evil is committed, will not be allowed
in a court of justice. Rousseau, Sir, is a very bad man. I would sooner
sign a sentence for his transportation, than that of any felon who has
gone from the Old Bailey these many years. Yes, I should like to have
him work in the plantations[5].' BOSWELL. 'Sir, do you think him as bad
a man as Voltaire?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is difficult to settle the
proportion of iniquity between them[6].'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 19, 1763.]
[Footnote 2: Boswell, writing to Wilkes in 1776, said:--'Though we
differ widely in religion and politics, _il y a des points ou nos ames
sont animes_, as Rouseau said to me in his wild retreat.' Almon's
_Wilkes_, iv. 319.]
[Footnote 3: Rousseau fled from France in 1762. A few days later his
arrest was ordered at Geneva. He fled from Neufchatel in 1763, and soon
afterwards he was banished from Berne. _Nonev. Biog. Gen., Xlii. 750._
He had come to England with David Hume a few weeks before this
conversation was held, and was at this time in Chiswick. Hume's _Private
Corres_., pp. 125, 145.]
[Footnote 4: Rousseau had by this time published his _Nouvelle Helloise_
and _Emile_.]
[Footnote 5: Less than three months after the date of this conversation
Rousseau wrote to General Conway, one of the Secretaries of State,
thanking him for the pension which George III proposed secretly to
confer on him. Hume's _Private Corres_., p. 165. Miss Burney, in her
preface to _Evelina_, a novel which was her introduction to Johnson's
strong affection, mentioning Rousseau and Johnson, adds in a footnote:--
'However superior the capacities in which these great writers deserve to
be considered, they must pardon me that, for the dignity of my subject,
I here rank the authors of _Rasselas_ and _Eloise_ as novelists.']
[Footnote 6: Rousseau thus wrote of himself:
'Dieu est juste; il veut que je souffre; et il sait que je suis
innocent. Voila le motif de ma confiance, mon coeur et ma raison me
crient qu'elle ne me trompera pas. Laissons donc faire les hommes et la
destinee; apprenons a souffrir sans murmure; tout doit a la fin rentrer
dans Fordre, et mon tour viendra tot ou tard.' Rousseau's _Works_, xx.
223.]
This violence seemed very strange to me, who had read many of Rousseau's
animated writings with great pleasure, and even edification, had been
much pleased with his society[1], and was just come from the Continent,
where he was very generally admired. Nor can I yet allow that he
deserves the very severe censure which Johnson pronounced upon him. His
absurd preference of savage to civilised life[2], and other
singularities, are proofs rather of a defect in his understanding, than
of any depravity in his heart. And notwithstanding the unfavourable
opinion which many worthy men have expressed of his '_Profession de Foi
du Vicaire Savoyard_', I cannot help admiring it as the performance of a
man full of sincere reverential submission to Divine Mystery, though
beset with perplexing doubts; a state of mind to be viewed with pity
rather than with anger.
[Footnote 1: 'He entertained me very courteously,' wrote Boswell in his
_Corsica_, p. 140.]
[Footnote 2: In this preference Boswell pretended at times to share. See
_post_, Sept. 30, 1769.]
On his favourite subject of subordination, Johnson said, 'So far is it
from being true that men are naturally equal[1], that no two people can
be half an hour together, but one shall acquire an evident superiority
over the other.'
[Footnote 1: Johnson seems once to have held this view to some extent;
for, writing of Savage's poem _On Public Spirit_, he says (_Works_,
viii. 156):--'He has asserted the natural equality of mankind, and
endeavoured to suppress that pride which inclines men to imagine that
right is the consequence of power.' See also _post_, Sept. 23, 1777,
where he asserts:--'It is impossible not to conceive that men in their
original state were equal.' For the opposite opinion, see _ante_, June
25, 1763.]
I mentioned the advice given us by philosophers, to console ourselves,
when distressed or embarrassed, by thinking of those who are in a worse
situation than ourselves. This, I observed, could not apply to all, for
there must be some who have nobody worse than they are. JOHNSON. 'Why,
to be sure, Sir, there are; but they don't know it. There is no being so
poor and so contemptible, who does not think there is somebody still
poorer, and still more contemptible.'
As my stay in London at this time was very short, I had not many
opportunities of being with Dr. Johnson; but I felt my veneration for
him in no degree lessened, by my having seen _mullorum hominum mores et
urbes_[1]. On the contrary, by having it in my power to compare him with
many of the most celebrated persons of other countries[2], my admiration
of his extraordinary mind was increased and confirmed.
[Footnote 1: 'Qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes.' 'Manners and
towns of various nations viewed.' FRANCIS. Horace, _Ars Poetica_, 1.
142.]
[Footnote 2: By the time Boswell was twenty-six years old he could boast
that he had made the acquaintance of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Paoli among
foreigners; and of Adam Smith, Robertson, Hume, Johnson, Goldsmith,
Garrick, Horace Walpole, Wilkes, and perhaps Reynolds, among Englishmen.
He had twice at least received a letter from the Earl of Chatham.]
The roughness, indeed, which sometimes appeared in his manners, was more
striking to me now, from my having been accustomed to the studied smooth
complying habits of the Continent; and I clearly recognised in him, not
without respect for his honest conscientious zeal, the same indignant
and sarcastical mode of treating every attempt to unhinge or weaken good
principles.
One evening when a young gentleman[1] teized him with an account of the
infidelity of his servant, who, he said, would not believe the
scriptures, because he could not read them in the original tongues, and
be sure that they were not invented. 'Why, foolish fellow, (said
Johnson,) has he any better authority for almost every thing that he
believes?' BOSWELL. 'Then the vulgar, Sir, never can know they are
right, but must submit themselves to the learned.' JOHNSON. 'To be sure,
Sir. The vulgar are the children of the State, and must be taught like
children[2].' BOSWELL. 'Then, Sir, a poor Turk must be a Mahometan, just
as a poor Englishman must be a Christian[3]?' JOHNSON. 'Why, yes, Sir;
and what then? This now is such stuff as I used to talk to my mother,
when I first began to think myself a clever fellow; and she ought to
have whipt me for it.'
[Footnote 1: In such passages as this we may generally assume that the
gentleman, whose name is not given, is Boswell himself. See _ante_, i.
4, and _post_, Oct. 16, 1769.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's 'Collection,' where this
assertion is called 'his usual remark.']
[Footnote 3: See _post_, April 15, 1778.]
Another evening Dr. Goldsmith and I called on him, with the hope of
prevailing on him to sup with us at the Mitre. We found him indisposed,
and resolved not to go abroad. 'Come then, (said Goldsmith,) we will not
go to the Mitre to-night, since we cannot have the big man[1] with us.'
Johnson then called for a bottle of port, of which Goldsmith and I
partook, while our friend, now a water-drinker, sat by us. GOLDSMITH. 'I
think, Mr. Johnson, you don't go near the theatres now. You give
yourself no more concern about a new play, than if you had never had any
thing to do with the stage.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, our tastes greatly
alter. The lad does not care for the child's rattle, and the old man
does not care for the young man's whore.' GOLDSMITH. 'Nay, Sir, but your
Muse was not a whore.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I do not think she was. But as we
advance in the journey of life, we drop some of the things which have
pleased us; whether it be that we are fatigued and don't choose to carry
so many things any farther, or that we find other things which we like
better.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, why don't you give us something in some
other way?' GOLDSMITH. 'Ay, Sir, we have a claim upon you[2].' JOHNSON.
'No, Sir, I am not obliged to do any more. No man is obliged to do as
much as he can do. A man is to have part of his life to himself. If a
soldier has fought a good many campaigns, he is not to be blamed if he
retires to ease and tranquillity. A physician, who has practised long in
a great city, may be excused if he retires to a small town, and takes
less practice. Now, Sir, the good I can do by my conversation bears the
same proportion to the good I can do by my writings, that the practice
of a physician, retired to a small town, does to his practice in a great
city[3].' BOSWELL. 'But I wonder, Sir, you have not more pleasure in
writing than in not writing.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you _may_ wonder.'
[Footnote 1: These two words may be observed as marks of Mr. Boswell's
accuracy. It is a jocular Irish phrase, which, of all Johnson's
acquaintances, no one probably, but Goldsmith, would have
used.--CROKER.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, May 24, 1763.]
[Footnote 3: Johnson's best justification for the apparent indolences of
the latter part of his life may be found in his own words: 'Every man of
genius has some arts of fixing the attention peculiar to himself, by
which, honestly exerted, he may benefit mankind.... To the position of
Tully, that if virtue could be seen she must be loved, may be added,
that if truth could be heard she must be obeyed.' _The Rambler_, No. 87.
He fixed the attention best by his talk. For 'the position of Tully,'
see _post_, March 19, 1776.]
He talked of making verses, and observed, 'The great difficulty is to
know when you have made good ones. When composing, I have generally had
them in my mind, perhaps fifty at a time, walking up and down in my
room; and then I have written them down, and often, from laziness, have
written only half lines. I have written a hundred lines in a day. I
remember I wrote a hundred lines of _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ in a
day[1]. Doctor, (turning to Goldsmith,) I am not quite idle; I have one
line t'other day; but I made no more.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 192, and _post_, May 1, 1783. Goldsmith
wrote _The Traveller and Deserted Village_ on a very different plan. 'To
save himself the trouble of transcription, he wrote the lines in his
first copy very wide, and would so fill up the intermediate space with
reiterated corrections, that scarcely a word of his first effusions was
left unaltered.' Goldsmith's _Misc. Works_, i. 113.]
GOLDSMITH. 'Let us hear it; we'll put a bad one to it..
JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, I have forgot it.[1]'
[Footnote 1: Mrs. Thrale in a letter to Dr. Johnson, said:--'Don't sit
making verses that never will be written.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 183.
Baretti noted opposite this in the margin of his copy: 'Johnson was
always making Latin or English verses in his mind, but never would write
them down.']
Such specimens of the easy and playful conversation of the great Dr.
Samuel Johnson are, I think, to be prized; as exhibiting the little
varieties of a mind so enlarged and so powerful when objects of
consequence required its exertions, and as giving us a minute knowledge
of his character and modes of thinking.
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
'DEAR SIR,
'What your friends have done, that from your departure till now nothing
has been heard of you, none of us are able to inform the rest; but as we
are all neglected alike, no one thinks himself entitled to the privilege
of complaint.
'I should have known nothing of you or of Langton, from the time that
dear Miss Langton left us, had not I met Mr. Simpson, of Lincoln, one
day in the street, by whom I was informed that Mr. Langton, your Mamma,
and yourself, had been all ill, but that you were all recovered.
'That sickness should suspend your correspondence, I did not wonder; but
hoped that it would be renewed at your recovery.
'Since you will not inform us where you are, or how you live, I know not
whether you desire to know any thing of us. However, I will tell you
that THE CLUB subsists; but we have the loss of Burke's company since he
has been engaged in publick business[1], in which he has gained more
reputation than perhaps any man at his [first] appearance ever gained
before. He made two speeches in the House for repealing the Stamp-act,
which were publickly commended by Mr. Pitt, and have filled the town
with wonder[2].
[Footnote 1: Burke entered Parliament as member for Wendover borough on
Jan. 14th, 1766. William Burke, writing to Barry the artist on the
following March 23, says:--'Ned's success has exceeded our most sanguine
hopes; all at once he has darted into fame. He is full of real business,
intent upon doing real good to his country, as much as if he was to
receive twenty per cent. from the commerce of the whole empire, which he
labours to improve and extend.' Barry's _Works_, i. 42.]
[Footnote 2: It was of these speeches that Macaulay wrote:--'The House
of Commons heard Pitt for the last time and Burke for the first time,
and was in doubt to which of them the palm of eloquence should be
assigned. It was indeed a splendid sunset and a splendid dawn.'
Macaulay's _Essays_ (edition 1874), iv. 330.]
'Burke is a great man by nature, and is expected soon to attain civil
greatness[1]. I am grown greater too, for I have maintained the
newspapers these many weeks[2]; and what is greater still, I have risen
every morning since New-year's day, at about eight; when I was up, I
have indeed done but little; yet it is no slight advancement to obtain
for so many hours more, the consciousness of being.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, March 20, 1776.]
[Footnote 2: Boswell has already stated (_ante_, Oct. 1765) that
Johnson's _Shakespeare_ was 'virulently attacked' by Kenrick. No doubt
there were other attacks and rejoinders too.]
'I wish you were in my new study[1]; I am now writing the first letter
in it. I think it looks very pretty about me.
[Footnote 1: Two days earlier he had drawn up a prayer on entering
_Novum Museum_. _Pr. and Med._, p. 69.]
'Dyer[1] is constant at THE CLUB; Hawkins is remiss; I am not over
diligent. Dr. Nugent, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr. Reynolds, are very
constant. Mr. Lye is printing his Saxon and Gothick Dictionary[2]; all
THE CLUB subscribes.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's Collection.]
[Footnote 2: _Dictionarium Saxonico et Gothico-Latinum_. London, 1772.
Lye died in 1767. O. Manning completed the work.]
'You will pay my respects to all my Lincolnshire friends. I am, dear
Sir,
'Most affectionately your's,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 9, 1766.
Johnson's-court, Fleet-street[1].'
[Footnote 1: See Appendix A.]
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
'DEAR SIR,
'In supposing that I should be more than commonly affected by the death
of Peregrine Langton[1], you were not mistaken; he was one of those whom
I loved at once by instinct and by reason. I have seldom indulged more
hope of any thing than of being able to improve our acquaintance to
friendship. Many a time have I placed myself again at Langton, and
imagined the pleasure with which I should walk to Partney[2] in a summer
morning; but this is no longer possible. We must now endeavour to
preserve what is left us,--his example of piety and oeconomy. I hope you
make what enquiries you can, and write down what is told you. The little
things which distinguish domestick characters are soon forgotten: if you
delay to enquire, you will have no information; if you neglect to write,
information will be vain[3].
[Footnote 1: Mr. Langton's uncle. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 2: The place of residence of Mr. Peregrine Langton. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 3: Mr. Langton did not disregard this counsel, but wrote the
following account, which he has been pleased to communicate to me:
'The circumstances of Mr. Peregrine Langton were these. He had an
annuity for life of two hundred pounds _per annum_. He resided in a
village in Lincolnshire; the rent of his house, with two or three small
fields, was twenty-eight pounds; the county he lived in was not more
than moderately cheap; his family consisted of a sister, who paid him
eighteen pounds annually for her board, and a niece. The servants were
two maids, and two men in livery. His common way of living, at his
table, was three or four dishes; the appurtenances to his table were
neat and handsome; he frequently entertained company at dinner, and then
his table was well served with as many dishes as were usual at the
tables of the other gentlemen in the neighbourhood. His own appearance,
as to clothes, was genteelly neat and plain. He had always a
post-chaise, and kept three horses.
'Such, with the resources I have mentioned, was his way of living, which
he did not suffer to employ his whole income: for he had always a sum of
money lying by him for any extraordinary expences that might arise. Some
money he put into the stocks; at his death, the sum he had there
amounted to one hundred and fifty pounds. He purchased out of his income
his household-furniture and linen, of which latter he had a very ample
store; and, as I am assured by those that had very good means of
knowing, not less than the tenth part of his income was set apart for
charity: at the time of his death, the sum of twenty-five pounds was
found, with a direction to be employed in such uses.
'He had laid down a plan of living proportioned to his income, and did
not practise any extraordinary degree of parsimony, but endeavoured that
in his family there should be plenty without waste; as an instance that
this was his endeavour, it may be worth while to mention a method he
took in regulating a proper allowance of malt liquor to be drunk in his
family, that there might not be a deficiency, or any intemperate
profusion: On a complaint made that his allowance of a hogshead in a
month, was not enough for his own family, he ordered the quantity of a
hogshead to be put into bottles, had it locked up from the servants, and
distributed out, every day, eight quarts, which is the quantity each day
at one hogshead in a month; and told his servants, that if that did not
suffice, he would allow them more; but, by this method, it appeared at
once that the allowance was much more than sufficient for his small
family; and this proved a clear conviction, that could not be answered,
and saved all future dispute. He was, in general, very diligently and
punctually attended and obeyed by his servants; he was very considerate
as to the injunctions he gave, and explained them distinctly; and, at
their first coming to his service, steadily exacted a close compliance
with them, without any remission; and the servants finding this to be
the case, soon grew habitually accustomed to the practice of their
business, and then very little further attention was necessary. On
extraordinary instances of good behaviour, or diligent service, he was
not wanting in particular encouragements and presents above their wages;
it is remarkable that he would permit their relations to visit them, and
stay at his house two or three days at a time.]
'His art of life certainly deserves to be known and studied. He lived in
plenty and elegance upon an income which, to many would appear indigent,
and to most, scanty. How he lived, therefore, every man has an interest
in knowing. His death, I hope, was peaceful; it was surely happy.
'I wish I had written sooner, lest, writing now, I should renew your
grief; but I would not forbear saying what I have now said.
'This loss is, I hope, the only misfortune of a family to whom no
misfortune at all should happen, if my wishes could avert it. Let me
know how you all go on. Has Mr. Langton got him the little horse that I
recommended? It would do him good to ride about his estate in fine
weather.
'Be pleased to make my compliments to Mrs. Langton, and to dear Miss
Langton, and Miss Di, and Miss Juliet, and to every body else.
'The wonder, with most that hear an account of his oeconomy, will be,
how he was able, with such an income, to do so much, especially when it
is considered that he paid for everything he had; he had no land, except
the two or three small fields which I have said he rented; and, instead
of gaining any thing by their produce, I have reason to think he lost by
them; however, they furnished him with no further assistance towards his
housekeeping, than grass for his horses, (not hay, for that I know he
bought,) and for two cows. Every Monday morning he settled his family
accounts, and so kept up a constant attention to the confining his
expences within his income; and to do it more exactly, compared those
expences with a computation he had made, how much that income would
afford him every week and day of the year. One of his oeconomical
practices was, as soon as any repair was wanting in or about his house,
to have it immediately performed. When he had money to spare, he chose
to lay in a provision of linen or clothes, or any other necessaries; as
then, he said, he could afford it, which he might not be so well able to
do when the actual want came; in consequence of which method, he had a
considerable supply of necessary articles lying by him, beside what was
in use.
'But the main particular that seems to have enabled him to do so much
with his income, was, that he paid for every thing as soon as he had it,
except, alone, what were current accounts, such as rent for his house
and servants' wages; and these he paid at the stated times with the
utmost exactness. He gave notice to the tradesmen of the neighbouring
market-towns that they should no longer have his custom, if they let any
of his servants have anything without their paying for it. Thus he put
it out of his power to commit those imprudences to which those are
liable that defer their payments by using their money some other way
than where it ought to go. And whatever money he had by him, he knew
that it was not demanded elsewhere, but that he might safely employ it
as he pleased.
'His example was confined, by the sequestered place of his abode, to the
observation of few, though his prudence and virtue would have made it
valuable to all who could have known it.--These few particulars, which I
knew myself, or have obtained from those who lived with him, may afford
instruction, and be an incentive to that wise art of living, which he so
successfully practised.' BOSWELL.
'THE CLUB holds very well together. Monday is my night[1]. I continue to
rise tolerably well, and read more than I did. I hope something will yet
come on it[2]. I am, Sir,
'Your most affectionate servant,
'SAM JOHNSON'
'May 10, 1766,
Johnson's-court, Fleet-street.'
[Footnote 1: Of his being in the chair of THE LITERARY CLUB, which at
this time met once a week in the evening. BOSWELL. See _ante_, Feb.
1764, note.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, Feb. 1767, where he told the King that 'he must
now read to acquire more knowledge.']
After I had been some time in Scotland, I mentioned to him in a letter
that 'On my first return to my native country, after some years of
absence, I was told of a vast number of my acquaintance who were all
gone to the land of forgetfulness, and I found myself like a man
stalking over a field of battle, who every moment perceives some one
lying dead.' I complained of irresolution, and mentioned my having made
a vow as a security for good conduct. I wrote to him again, without
being able to move his indolence; nor did I hear from him till he had
received a copy of my inaugural Exercise, or Thesis in Civil Law, which
I published at my admission as an Advocate, as is the custom in
Scotland. He then wrote to me as follows:
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'The reception of your Thesis put me in mind of my debt to you Why did
you ---- [1]. I will punish you for it, by telling you that your Latin
wants correction[2]. In the beginning, _Spei alterae_, not to urge that
it should be _prima_, is not grammatical: _alterae_ should be _alteri_.
In the next line you seem to use _genus_ absolutely, for what we call
_family_, that is, for _illustrious extraction_, I doubt without
authority. _Homines nullius originis_, for _Nullis orti majoribus_, or,
_Nullo loco nati_, is, I am afraid, barbarous.--Ruddiman is dead[3].
[Footnote 1: The passage omitted alluded to a private transaction.
BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 2: The censure of my Latin relates to the Dedication, which
was as follows:
VIRO NOBILISSIMO, ORNATISSIMO,
JOANNI,
VICECOMITI MOUNTSTUART,
ATAVIS EDITO REGIBUS
EXCELSAE FAMILLAE DE BUTE SPEI ALTERAE;
LABENTE SECULO,
QUUM HOMINES NULLIUS ORIGINIS
GENUS AEQUARE OPIBUS AGGREDIUNTUR,
SANGUINIS ANTIQUI ET ILLUSTRIS
SEMPER MEMORI,
NATALIUM SPLENDOREM VIRTUTIBUS AUGENTI:
AD PUBLICA POPULI COMITIA
JAM LEGATO;
IN OPTIMATIUM VERO MAGNAE BRITANNIAE SENATU,
JURE HAEREDITARIO,
OLIM CONSESSURO:
VIM INSITAM VARIA DOCTRINA PROMOVENTE,
NEC TAMEN SE VENDITANTE,
PRAEDITO:
PRISCA FIDE, ANIMO LIBERRIMO,
ET MORUM ELEGANTIA
INSIGNI:
IN ITALIAE VISITANDAE ITINERE,
SOCIO SUO HONORATISSIMO,
HASCE JURISPRUDENTAE PRIMITIAS
DEVINCTISSIMAE AMICITIAE ET OBSERVANTIAE
MONUMENTUM,
D. D. C Q.
JACOBUS BOSWELL. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, i. 211.]
'I have now vexed you enough, and will try to please you. Your
resolution to obey your father I sincerely approve; but do not accustom
yourself to enchain your volatility by vows: they will sometime leave a
thorn in your mind, which you will, perhaps, never be able to extract or
eject. Take this warning, it is of great importance[1].
[Footnote 1: See _post_, May 19, 1778.]
'The study of the law is what you very justly term it, copious and
generous[1]; and in adding your name to its professors, you have done
exactly what I always wished, when I wished you best. I hope that you
will continue to pursue it vigorously and constantly[2]. You gain, at
least, what is no small advantage, security from those troublesome and
wearisome discontents, which are always obtruding themselves upon a mind
vacant, unemployed, and undetermined.
[Footnote 1: This alludes to the first sentence of the _Proaemium_ of my
Thesis. '_JURISPRUDENTAE studio nullum uberius, nullum generosius: in
legibus enim agitandis, populorum mores, variasque fortunae vices ex
quibus leges oriuntur, contemplari simul solemus_' BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 2: 'Mr. Boswell,' says Malone, 'professed the Scotch and the
English law; but had never taken very great pains on the subject. His
father, Lord Auchinleck, told him one day, that it would cost him more
trouble to hide his ignorance in these professions than to show his
knowledge. This Boswell owned he had found to be true.' _European
Magazine_, 1798, p. 376. Boswell wrote to Temple in 1775:--'You are very
kind in saying that I may overtake you in learning. Believe me though
that I have a kind of impotency of study.' _Letters of Boswell_, p.
181.]
'You ought to think it no small inducement to diligence and
perseverance, that they will please your father. We all live upon the
hope of pleasing somebody; and the pleasure of pleasing ought to be
greatest, and at last always will be greatest, when our endeavours are
exerted in consequence of our duty.
'Life is not long, and too much of it must not pass in idle deliberation
how it shall be spent; deliberation, which those who begin it by
prudence, and continue it with subtilty, must, after long expence of
thought, conclude by chance[1]. To prefer one future mode of life to
another, upon just reasons, requires faculties which it has not pleased
our Creator to give us.
[Footnote 1: This is a truth that Johnson often enforced. 'Very few,'
said the poet; 'live by choice: every man is placed in his present
condition by causes which acted without his foresight, and with which he
did not always willingly co-operate.' _Rasselas_, chap. 16. 'To him that
lives well,' answered the hermit, 'every form of life is good; nor can I
give any other rule for choice than to remove from all apparent evil.'
_Ib_, chap. 21. 'Young man,' said Omar, 'it is of little use to form
plans of life.' _The Idler_, No. 101.]
'If, therefore, the profession you have chosen has some unexpected
inconveniencies, console yourself by reflecting that no profession is
without them; and that all the importunities and perplexities of
business are softness and luxury, compared with the incessant cravings
of vacancy, and the unsatisfactory expedients of idleness.
"_Haec sunt quce nostra polui te voce monere[1];
Vade, age._"
[Footnote 1: 'Hace sunt quae nostra _liceat_ te voce moneri.' _Aeneid_,
iii. 461.]
'As to your _History of Corsica_, you have no materials which others
have not, or may not have. You have, somehow, or other, warmed your
imagination. I wish there were some cure, like the lover's leap, for all
heads of which some single idea has obtained an unreasonable and
irregular possession. Mind your own affairs, and leave the Corsicans to
theirs. I am, dear Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, Aug. 21, 1766.'
'To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
'Auchinleck, Nov. 6, 1766.
'MUCH ESTEEMED AND DEAR SIR,
'I plead not guilty to [1]----
[Footnote 1: The passage omitted explained the transaction to which the
preceding letter had alluded. BOSWELL.]
'Having thus, I hope, cleared myself of the charge brought against me, I
presume you will not be displeased if I escape the punishment which you
have decreed for me unheard. If you have discharged the arrows of
criticism against an innocent man, you must rejoice to find they have
missed him, or have not been pointed so as to wound him.
'To talk no longer in allegory, I am, with all deference, going to offer
a few observations in defence of my Latin, which you have found fault
with.
'You think I should have used _spei primae_, instead of _spei alterae_.
_Spes_ is, indeed, often used to express something on which we have a
future dependence, as in Virg. Eclog. i. l. 14,
".... _modo namque gemellos_
Spem _gregis ah silice in nuda connixa reliquit_."
and in Georg. iii. l. 473,
"Spemque _gregemque simul_,"
for the lambs and the sheep. Yet it is also used to express any thing on
which we have a present dependence, and is well applied to a man of
distinguished influence, our support, our refuge, our _praesidium_, as
Horace calls Maecenas. So, AEneid xii. l. 57, Queen Amata addresses her
son-in-law Turnus:--"Spes _tu nunc una_:" and he was then no future
hope, for she adds,
"... _decus imperiumque Latini
Te penes_;"
which might have been said of my Lord Bute some years ago. Now I
consider the present Earl of Bute to be '_Excelsae familiae de Bute_ spes
prima;' and my Lord Mountstuart, as his eldest son, to be '_spes
altera_.' So in AEneid xii. l. 168, after having mentioned Pater AEneas,
who was the _present_ spes, the _reigning_ spes, as my German friends
would say, the _spes prima_, the poet adds,
"_Et juxta Ascanius, magnae_ spes altera _Romae_."
'You think _alterae_ ungrammatical, and you tell me it should have been
_alteri_. You must recollect, that in old times _alter_ was declined
regularly; and when the ancient fragments preserved in the _Juris
Civilis Fontes_ were written, it was certainly declined in the way that
I use it. This, I should think, may protect a lawyer who writes _alterae_
in a dissertation upon part of his own science. But as I could hardly
venture to quote fragments of old law to so classical a man as Mr.
Johnson, I have not made an accurate search into these remains, to find
examples of what I am able to produce in poetical composition. We find
in Plaut. Rudens, act iii. scene 4,
"_Nam Jiuic alters patria qua: sit profecto nescio_."
Plautus is, to be sure, an old comick writer: but in the days of Scipio
and Lelius, we find, Terent. Heautontim. act ii. scene 3,
".... hoc ipsa in itinere alterae
Dum narrat, forte audivi."
'You doubt my having authority for using _genus_ absolutely, for what we
call _family_, that is, for _illustrious extraction_. Now I take _genus_
in Latin, to have much the same signification with _birth_ in English;
both in their primary meaning expressing simply descent, but both made
to stand [Greek: kat exochaen] noble descent. _Genus_ is thus used in
Hor. lib. ii. Sat. v. 1. 8,
"_Et genus et virtus, nisi cum re, vilior alga est_."
'And in lib. i. Epist. vi. 1. 37,
"_Et genus et forinam Regina pecunia donat_."
'And in the celebrated contest between Ajax and Ulysses, Ovid's
Metamorph. lib. xiii. 1. 140,
"_Nam genus et proavos, et quae--non fecimus ipsi
Vix ea nostra voco_."
'_Homines nullius originis_, for _nullis orti majoribus_, or _nullo loco
nati_, is, you are "afraid, barbarous."
'_Origo_ is used to signify extraction, as in Virg. AEneid i. 1. 286,
"_Nascetur pulchrd Trojanus_ origine _Caesar_."
And in AEneid x. 1. 618,
"_Ille tamen nostra deducit_ origine _nomen_"
And as _nullus_ is used for obscure, is it not in the genius of the
Latin language to write _nullius originis_, for obscure extraction?
'I have defended myself as well as I could.
'Might I venture to differ from you with regard to the utility of vows?
I am sensible that it would be very dangerous to make vows rashly, and
without a due consideration. But I cannot help thinking that they may
often be of great advantage to one of a variable judgement and irregular
inclinations. I always remember a passage in one of your letters to our
Italian friend Baretti; where talking of the monastick life, you say you
do not wonder that serious men should put themselves under the
protection of a religious order, when they have found how unable they
are to take care of themselves.[1] For my own part, without affecting to
be a Socrates, I am sure I have a more than ordinary struggle to
maintain with _the Evil Principle_; and all the methods I can devise are
little enough to keep me tolerably steady in the paths of rectitude.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, June 10, 1761.]
* * * * *
'I am ever, with the highest veneration,
'Your affectionate humble servant,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
It appears from Johnson's diary, that he was this year at Mr. Thrale's,
from before Midsummer till after Michaelmas, and that he afterwards
passed a month at Oxford. He had then contracted a great intimacy with
Mr. Chambers of that University, afterwards Sir Robert Chambers, one of
the Judges in India.[1]
[Footnote 1: Mr. Croker says:--'It was by visiting Chambers, when a
fellow of University College, that Johnson became acquainted with Lord
Stowell [at that time William Scott]; and when Chambers went to India,
Lord Stowell, as he expressed it to me, seemed to succeed to his place
in Johnson's friendship.' Croker's _Boswell_, p. 90, note. John Scott
(Earl of Eldon), Sir William Jones and Mr. Windham, were also members of
University College. The hall is adorned with the portraits of these five
men. An engraving of Johnson is in the Common Room.]
He published nothing this year in his own name; but the noble
dedication[1][*] to the King, of Gwyn's _London and Westminster
Improved_, was written by him; and he furnished the Preface,[Dagger] and
several of the pieces, which compose a volume of _Miscellanies_ by Mrs.
Anna Williams, the blind lady who had an asylum in his house. Of these,
there are his 'Epitaph on Philips,'[2][*] 'Translation of a Latin
Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer,'[3][Dagger] 'Friendship, an Ode,'[4][*]
and, 'The Ant,'[*] a paraphrase from the Proverbs, of which I have a
copy in his own hand-writing; and, from internal evidence, I ascribe to
him, 'To Miss ----, on her giving the Authour a gold and silk net-work
Purse of her own weaving'[5]; [Dagger] and, 'The happy Life.'[6][Dagger]
[Footnote 1: It is not easy to discover anything noble or even
felicitous in this Dedication. _Works_, v. 444.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 148.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, i. 177, note 2.]
[Footnote 4: See _ante_, i. 158.]
[Footnote 5: See _ante_, i. 178, note 2.]
[Footnote 6: This poem is scarcely Johnson's, though all the lines but
the third in the following couplets may be his.
Whose life not sunk in sloth is free from care,
Nor tost by change, nor stagnant in despair;
Who with wise authors pass the instructive day
And wonder how the moments stole away;
Who not retired beyond the sight of life
Behold its weary cares, its noisy strife.']
Most of the pieces in this volume have evidently received additions from
his superiour pen, particularly 'Verses to Mr. Richardson, on his Sir
Charles Grandison;' 'The Excursion;' 'Reflections on a Grave digging in
Westminster Abbey.'[1] There is in this collection a poem 'On the Death
of Stephen Grey, the Electrician;'[*] which, on reading it, appeared to
me to be undoubtedly Johnson's. I asked Mrs. Williams whether it was not
his. 'Sir, (said she, with some warmth,) I wrote that poem before I had
the honour of Dr. Johnson's acquaintance.' I, however, was so much
impressed with my first notion, that I mentioned it to Johnson,
repeating, at the same time, what Mrs. Williams had said. His answer
was, 'It is true, Sir, that she wrote it before she was acquainted with
me; but she has not told you that I wrote it all over again, except two
lines.'[2] 'The Fountains,'[dagger] a beautiful little Fairy tale in
prose, written with exquisite simplicity, is one of Johnson's
productions; and I cannot with-hold from Mrs. Thrale the praise of being
the authour of that admirable poem, 'The Three Warnings.'
[Footnote 1: Johnson's additions to these three poems are not at all
evident.]
[Footnote 2: In a note to the poem it is stated that Miss Williams,
when, before her blindness, she was assisting Mr. Grey in his
experiments, was the first that observed the emission of the electrical
spark from a human body. The best lines are the following:--
Now, hoary Sage, purse thy happy flight,
With swifter motion haste to purer light,
Where Bacon waits with Newton and with Boyle
To hail thy genius, and applaud thy toil;
Where intuition breaks through time and space,
And mocks experiment's successive race;
Sees tardy Science toil at Nature's laws,
And wonders how th' effect obscures the cause.
Yet not to deep research or happy guess
Is owed the life of hope, the death of peace.']
He wrote this year a letter, not intended for publication, which has,
perhaps, as strong marks of his sentiment and style, as any of his
compositions. The original is in my possession. It is addressed to the
late Mr. William Drummond, bookseller in Edinburgh, a gentleman of good
family, but small estate, who took arms for the house of Stuart in 1745;
and during his concealment in London till the act of general pardon came
out obtained the acquaintance of Dr. Johnson, who justly esteemed him as
a very worthy man. It seems, some of the members of the society in
Scotland for propagating Christian knowledge, had opposed the scheme of
translating the holy scriptures into the Erse or Gaelick language, from
political considerations of the disadvantage of keeping up the
distinction between the Highlanders and the other inhabitants of
North-Britain. Dr. Johnson being informed of this, I suppose by Mr.
Drummond, wrote with a generous indignation as follows:
'To MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND.
'SIR,
'I did not expect to hear that it could be, in an assembly convened for
the propagation of Christian knowledge, a question whether any nation
uninstructed in religion should receive instruction; or whether that
instruction should be imparted to them by a translation of the holy
books into their own language. If obedience to the will of God be
necessary to happiness, and knowledge of his will be necessary to
obedience, I know not how he that with-holds this knowledge, or delays
it, can be said to love his neighbour as himself. He that voluntarily
continues ignorance, is guilty of all the crimes which ignorance
produces; as to him that should extinguish the tapers of a light-house,
might justly be imputed the calamities of shipwrecks. Christianity is
the highest perfection of humanity; and as no man is good but as he
wishes the good of others, no man can be good in the highest degree who
wishes not to others the largest measures of the greatest good. To omit
for a year, or for a day, the most efficacious method of advancing
Christianity, in compliance with any purposes that terminate on this
side of the grave, is a crime of which I know not that the world has yet
had an example, except in the practice of the planters of America,[1] a
race of mortals whom, I suppose, no other man wishes to resemble.[2]
[Footnote 1: A gentleman, writing from Virginia to John Wesley, in 1735,
about the need of educating the negro slaves in religion, says:--'Their
masters generally neglect them, as though immortality was not the
privilege of their souls in common with their own.' Wesley's _Journal_,
II. 288. But much nearer home Johnson might have found this criminal
enforcement of ignorance. Burke, writing in 1779, about the Irish,
accuses the legislature of 'condemning a million and a half of people to
ignorance, according to act of parliament.' Burke's _Corres._ ii. 294.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, March 21, 1775, and Appendix.]
'The Papists have, indeed, denied to the laity the use of the bible; but
this prohibition, in few places now very rigorously enforced, is
defended by arguments, which have for their foundation the care of
souls. To obscure, upon motives merely political, the light of
revelation, is a practice reserved for the reformed; and, surely, the
blackest midnight of popery is meridian sunshine to such a reformation.
I am not very willing that any language should be totally extinguished.
The similitude and derivation of languages afford the most indubitable
proof of the traduction of nations, and the genealogy of mankind.[1]
They add often physical certainty to historical evidence; and often
supply the only evidence of ancient migrations, and of the revolutions
of ages which left no written monuments behind them.
[Footnote 1: Johnson said very finely:--'Languages are the pedigree of
nations.' Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 18, 1773.]
'Every man's opinions, at least his desires, are a little influenced by
his favourite studies. My zeal for languages may seem, perhaps, rather
over-heated, even to those by whom I desire to be well-esteemed. To
those who have nothing in their thoughts but trade or policy, present
power, or present money, I should not think it necessary to defend my
opinions; but with men of letters I would not unwillingly compound, by
wishing the continuance of every language, however narrow in its extent,
or however incommodious for common purposes, till it is reposited in
some version of a known book, that it may be always hereafter examined
and compared with other languages, and then permitting its disuse. For
this purpose, the translation of the bible is most to be desired. It is
not certain that the same method will not preserve the Highland
language, for the purposes of learning, and abolish it from daily use.
When the Highlanders read the Bible, they will naturally wish to have
its obscurities cleared, and to know the history, collateral or
appendant. Knowledge always desires increase: it is like fire, which
must first be kindled by some external agent, but which will afterwards
propagate itself. When they once desire to learn, they will naturally
have recourse to the nearest language by which that desire can be
gratified; and one will tell another that if he would attain knowledge,
he must learn English.
'This speculation may, perhaps, be thought more subtle than the
grossness of real life will easily admit. Let it, however, be
remembered, that the efficacy of ignorance has been long tried, and has
not produced the consequence expected. Let knowledge, therefore, take
its turn; and let the patrons of privation stand awhile aside, and admit
the operation of positive principles.
'You will be pleased, Sir, to assure the worthy man who is employed in
the new translation,[1] that he has my wishes for his success; and if
here or at Oxford I can be of any use, that I shall think it more than
honour to promote his undertaking.
[Footnote 1: The Rev. Mr. John Campbell, Minister of the Parish of
Kippen, near Stirling, who has lately favoured me with a long,
intelligent, and very obliging letter upon this work, makes the
following remark:--'Dr. Johnson has alluded to the worthy man employed
in the translation of the New Testament. Might not this have afforded
you an opportunity of paying a proper tribute of respect to the memory
of the Rev. Mr. James Stuart, late Minister of Killin, distinguished by
his eminent Piety, Learning and Taste? The amiable simplicity of his
life, his warm benevolence, his indefatigable and successful exertions
for civilizing and improving the Parish of which he was Minister for
upwards of fifty years, entitle him to the gratitude of his country, and
the veneration of all good men. It certainly would be a pity, if such a
character should be permitted to sink into oblivion.' BOSWELL.]
'I am sorry that I delayed so long to write.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,
Aug. 13, 1766.'
The opponents of this pious scheme being made ashamed of their conduct,
the benevolent undertaking was allowed to go on[1].
[Footnote 1: Seven years later Johnson received from the Society some
religious works in Erse. See post, June 24, 1774. Yet in his journey to
the Hebrides, in 1773 (Works, ix. 101), he had to record of the
parochial schools in those islands that 'by the rule of their
institution they teach _only_ English, so that the natives read a
language which they may never use or understand,']
The following letters, though not written till the year after, being
chiefly upon the same subject, are here inserted.
'TO MR. WILLIAM DRUMMOND.
'DEAR SIR,
'That my letter should have had such effects as you mention, gives me
great pleasure. I hope you do not flatter me by imputing to me more good
than I have really done. Those whom my arguments have persuaded to
change their opinion, shew such modesty and candour as deserve great
praise.
'I hope the worthy translator goes diligently forward. He has a higher
reward in prospect than any honours which this world can bestow. I wish
I could be useful to him.
'The publication of my letter, if it could be of use in a cause to which
all other causes are nothing, I should not prohibit. But first, I would
have you consider whether the publication will really do any good; next,
whether by printing and distributing a very small number, you may not
attain all that you propose; and, what perhaps I should have said first,
whether the letter, which I do not now perfectly remember, be fit to be
printed.
'If you can consult Dr. Robertson, to whom I am a little known, I shall
be satisfied about the propriety of whatever he shall direct. If he
thinks that it should be printed, I entreat him to revise it; there may,
perhaps, be some negligent lines written, and whatever is amiss, he
knows very well how to rectify[1].
[Footnote 1: This paragraph shews Johnson's real estimation of the
character and abilities of the celebrated Scottish Historian, however
lightly, in a moment of caprice, he may have spoken of his works.
BOSWELL.]
'Be pleased to let me know, from time to time, how this excellent design
goes forward.
'Make my compliments to young Mr. Drummond, whom I hope you will live to
see such as you desire him.
'I have not lately seen Mr. Elphinston[1], but believe him to be
prosperous. I shall be glad to hear the same of you, for I am, Sir,
'Your affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,
April 21, 1767.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 210.]
'TO THE SAME.
'SIR,
'I returned this week from the country, after an absence of near six
months, and found your letter with many others, which I should have
answered sooner, if I had sooner seen them.
'Dr. Robertson's opinion was surely right. Men should not be told of the
faults which they have mended. I am glad the old language is taught, and
honour the translator as a man whom GOD has distinguished by the high
office of propagating his word.
'I must take the liberty of engaging you in an office of charity. Mrs.
Heely, the wife of Mr. Heely, who had lately some office in your
theatre, is my near relation, and now in great distress. They wrote me
word of their situation some time ago, to which I returned them an
answer which raised hopes of more than it is proper for me to give them.
Their representation of their affairs I have discovered to be such as
cannot be trusted; and at this distance, though their case requires
haste, I know not how to act. She, or her daughters, may be heard of at
Canongate Head. I must beg, Sir, that you will enquire after them, and
let me know what is to be done. I am willing to go to ten pounds, and
will transmit you such a sum, if upon examination you find it likely to
be of use. If they are in immediate want, advance them what you think
proper. What I could do, I would do for the women, having no great
reason to pay much regard to Heely himself[1].
[Footnote 1: This is the person concerning whom Sir John Hawkins has
thrown out very unwarrantable reflections both against Dr. Johnson and
Mr. Francis Barber. BOSWELL. See _post_, under Oct. 20, 1784. In 1775,
Heely, it appears, applied through Johnson for the post that was soon to
be vacant of 'master of the tap' at Ranelagh House. 'He seems,' wrote
Johnson, in forwarding his letter of application, 'to have a genius for
an alehouse.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 210. See also _post_, Aug. 12, 1784.]
'I believe you may receive some intelligence from Mrs. Baker, of the
theatre, whose letter I received at the same time with yours; and to
whom, if you see her, you will make my excuse for the seeming neglect of
answering her.
'Whatever you advance within ten pounds shall be immediately returned to
you, or paid as you shall order. I trust wholly to your judgement.
'I am, Sir, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,
Oct. 24, 1767.'
Mr. Cuthbert Shaw[1], alike distinguished by his genius, misfortunes,
and misconduct, published this year a poem, called _The Race_, by
'Mercurius Spur, Esq.[2],' in which he whimsically made the living poets
of England contend for pre-eminence of fame by running:
'Prove by their heels the prowess of the head.'
[Footnote 1: See an account of him in the _European Magazine_, Jan.
1786. BOSWELL. There we learn that he was in his time a grammar-school
usher, actor, poet, the puffing partner in a quack medicine, and tutor
to a youthful Earl. He was suspected of levying blackmail by threats of
satiric publications, and he suffered from a disease which rendered him
an object almost offensive to sight. He was born in 1738 or 1739, and
died in 1771.]
[Footnote 2: It was republished in _The Repository_, ii. 227, edition of
1790.]
In this poem there was the following portrait of Johnson:
'Here Johnson comes,--unblest with outward grace,
His rigid morals stamp'd upon his face.
While strong conceptions struggle in his brain;
(For even wit is brought to bed with pain:)
To view him, porters with their loads would rest,
And babes cling frighted to the nurse's breast.
With looks convuls'd he roars in pompous strain,
And, like an angry lion, shakes his mane.
The Nine, with terrour struck, who ne'er had seen,
Aught human with so horrible a mien,
Debating whether they should stay or run,
Virtue steps forth, and claims him for her son:
With gentle speech she warns him now to yield,
Nor stain his glories in the doubtful field;
But wrapt in conscious worth, content sit down,
Since Fame, resolv'd his various pleas to crown,
Though forc'd his present claim to disavow,
Had long reserv'd a chaplet for his brow.
He bows, obeys; for time shall first expire,
Ere Johnson stay, when Virtue bids retire.'
The Honourable Thomas Hervey[1] and his lady having unhappily disagreed,
and being about to separate, Johnson interfered as their friend, and
wrote him a letter of expostulation, which I have not been able to find;
but the substance of it is ascertained by a letter to Johnson in answer
to it, which Mr. Hervey printed. The occasion of this correspondence
between Dr. Johnson and Mr. Hervey, was thus related to me by Mr.
Beauclerk[2]. 'Tom Hervey had a great liking for Johnson, and in his
will had left him a legacy of fifty pounds. One day he said to me,
"Johnson may want this money now, more than afterwards. I have a mind to
give it him directly. Will you be so good as to carry a fifty pound note
from me to him?" This I positively refused to do, as he might, perhaps,
have knocked me down for insulting him, and have afterwards put the note
in his pocket. But I said, if Hervey would write him a letter, and
enclose a fifty pound note, I should take care to deliver it. He
accordingly did write him a letter, mentioning that he was only paying a
legacy a little sooner. To his letter he added, "_P.S. I am going to
part with my wife_." Johnson then wrote to him, saying nothing of the
note, but remonstrating with him against parting with his wife.'
[Footnote 1: The Hon. Thomas Hervey, whose _Letter to Sir Thomas Hanmer_
in 1742 was much read at that time. He was the second son of John, first
Earl of Bristol, and one of the brothers of Johnson's early friend Henry
Hervey. He died Jan. 20, 1775. MALONE. See _post_, April 6, 1775.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, under Sept. 22, 1777, for another story told by
Beauclerk against Johnson of a Mr. Hervey.]
When I mentioned to Johnson this story, in as delicate terms as I could,
he told me that the fifty pound note was given to him by Mr. Hervey in
consideration of his having written for him a pamphlet against Sir
Charles Hanbury Williams, who, Mr. Hervey imagined, was the authour of
an attack upon him; but that it was afterwards discovered to be the work
of a garreteer who wrote _The Fool_[1]: the pamphlet therefore against
Sir Charles was not printed.[2]
[Footnote 1: Essays published in the _Daily Gazetteer_ and afterwards
collected into two vols. _Gent. Mag_. for 1748, P. 48.]
[Footnote 2: Mr. Croker regrets that Johnson employed his pen for hire
in Hervey's 'disgusting squabbles,' and in a long note describes
Hervey's letter to Sir Thomas Hanmer with whose wife he had eloped. But
the attack to which Johnson was hired to reply was not made by Hanmer,
but, as was supposed, by Sir C. H. Williams. Because a man has wronged
another, he is not therefore to submit to the attacks of a third.
Williams, moreover, it must be remembered, was himself a man of
licentious character.]
In February, 1767, there happened one of the most remarkable incidents
of Johnson's life, which gratified his monarchical enthusiasm, and which
he loved to relate with all its circumstances, when requested by his
friends. This was his being honoured by a private conversation with his
Majesty, in the library at the Queen's house[1]. He had frequently
visited those splendid rooms and noble collection of books[2], which he
used to say was more numerous and curious than he supposed any person
could have made in the time which the King had employed. Mr. Barnard,
the librarian, took care that he should have every accommodation that
could contribute to his ease and convenience, while indulging his
literary taste in that place; so that he had here a very agreeable
resource at leisure hours.
[Footnote 1: Buckingham House, bought in 1761, by George III, and
settled on Queen Charlotte. The present Buckingham Palace occupies the
site. P. CUNNINGHAM. Here, according to Hawkins (_Life_, p. 470),
Johnson met the Prince of Wales (George IV.) when a child, 'and enquired
as to his knowledge of the Scriptures; the prince in his answers gave
him great satisfaction.' Horace Walpole, writing of the Prince at the
age of nineteen, says (_Journal of the Reign of George III_, ii.
503):--'Nothing was coarser than his conversation and phrases; and it
made men smile to find that in the palace of piety and pride his Royal
Highness had learnt nothing but the dialect of footmen and grooms.']
[Footnote 2: Dr. Johnson had the honour of contributing his assistance
towards the formation of this library; for I have read a long letter
from him to Mr. Barnard, giving the most masterly instructions on the
subject. I wished much to have gratified my readers with the perusal of
this letter, and have reason to think that his Majesty would have been
graciously pleased to permit its publication; but Mr. Barnard, to whom I
applied, declined it 'on his own account.' BOSWELL. It is given in Mr.
Croker's edition, p. 196.]
His Majesty having been informed of his occasional visits, was pleased
to signify a desire that he should be told when Dr. Johnson came next to
the library. Accordingly, the next time that Johnson did come, as soon
as he was fairly engaged with a book, on which, while he sat by the
fire, he seemed quite intent, Mr. Barnard stole round to the apartment
where the King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's commands,
mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the library. His Majesty said he
was at leisure, and would go to him; upon which Mr. Barnard took one of
the candles that stood on the King's table, and lighted his Majesty
through a suite of rooms, till they came to a private door into the
library, of which his Majesty had the key. Being entered, Mr. Barnard
stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, who was still in a profound
study, and whispered him, 'Sir, here is the King.' Johnson started up,
and stood still. His Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously
easy[1].
[Footnote 1: The particulars of this conversation I have been at great
pains to collect with the utmost authenticity from Dr. Johnson's own
detail to myself; from Mr. Langton who was present when he gave an
account of it to Dr. Joseph Warton, and several other friends, at Sir
Joshua Reynolds's; from Mr. Barnard; from the copy of a letter written
by the late Mr. Strahan the printer, to Bishop Warburton; and from a
minute, the original of which is among the papers of the late Sir James
Caldwell, and a copy of which was most obligingly obtained for me from
his son Sir John Caldwell, by Sir Francis Lumm. To all these gentlemen I
beg leave to make my grateful acknowledgements, and particularly to Sir
Francis Lumm, who was pleased to take a great deal of trouble, and even
had the minute laid before the King by Lord Caermarthen, now Duke of
Leeds, then one of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State, who
announced to Sir Francis the Royal pleasure concerning it by a letter,
in these words: 'I have the King's commands to assure you, Sir, how
sensible his Majesty is of your attention in communicating the minute of
the conversation previous to its publication. As there appears no
objection to your complying with Mr. Boswell's wishes on the subject,
you are at full liberty to deliver it to that gentleman, to make such
use of in his _Life of Dr. Johnson_, as he may think proper.' BOSWELL.
In 1790, Boswell published in a quarto sheet of eight pages _A
conversation between His Most Sacred Majesty George III. and Samuel
Johnson, LLD. Illustrated with Observations. By James Boswell, Esq.
London. Printed by Henry Baldwin, for Charles Dilly in the Poultry.
MDCCXC. Price Half-a-Guinea. Entered in the Hall-Book of the Company of
Stationers_. It is of the same impression as the first edition of _the
Life of Johnson_.]
His Majesty began by observing, that he understood he came sometimes to
the library; and then mentioning his having heard that the Doctor had
been lately at Oxford[1], asked him if he was not fond of going thither.
To which Johnson answered, that he was indeed fond of going to Oxford
sometimes, but was likewise glad to come back again. The King then asked
him what they were doing at Oxford. Johnson answered, he could not much
commend their diligence, but that in some respects they were mended, for
they had put their press under better regulations, and were at that time
printing Polybius. He was then asked whether there were better libraries
at Oxford or Cambridge. He answered, he believed the Bodleian was larger
than any they had at Cambridge; at the same time adding, 'I hope,
whether we have more books or not than they have at Cambridge, we shall
make as good use of them as they do.' Being asked whether All-Souls or
Christ-Church library[2] was the largest, he answered, 'All-Souls
library is the largest we have, except the Bodleian.' 'Aye, (said the
King,) that is the publick library.'
[Footnote 1: After Michaelmas, 1766. See _ante_, ii. 25.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, May, 31, 1769, note.]
His Majesty enquired if he was then writing any thing. He answered, he
was not, for he had pretty well told the world what he knew, and must
now read to acquire more knowledge[1]. The King, as it should seem with
a view to urge him to rely on his own stores as an original writer, and
to continue his labours[2], then said 'I do not think you borrow much
from any body.' Johnson said, he thought he had already done his part as
a writer. 'I should have thought so too, (said the King,) if you had not
written so well.'--Johnson observed to me, upon this, that 'No man could
have paid a handsomer compliment; and it was fit for a King to pay. It
was decisive.' When asked by another friend, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's,
whether he made any reply to this high compliment, he answered, 'No,
Sir. When the King had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to
bandy civilities with my Sovereign[3].' Perhaps no man who had spent his
whole life in courts could have shewn a more nice and dignified sense of
true politeness, than Johnson did in this instance.
[Footnote 1: Writing to Langton, on May 10, of the year before he had
said, 'I read more than I did. I hope something will yet come on it.'
_Ante_, ii. 20.]
[Footnote 2: Boswell and Goldsmith had in like manner urged him 'to
continue his labours.' See _ante_, i. 398, and ii. 15.]
[Footnote 3: Johnson had written to Lord Chesterfield in the _Plan of
his Dictionary_ (_Works_, v. 19), 'Ausonius thought that modesty forbade
him to plead inability for a task to which Caesar had judged him
equal:--_Cur me posse negem posse quod ille pufat_?' We may compare also
a passage in Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_ (ii. 377):--'THE KING. "I believe
there is no constraint to be put upon real genius; nothing but
inclination can set it to work. Miss Burney, however, knows best." And
then hastily returning to me he cried; "What? what?" "No, sir,
I--I--believe not, certainly," quoth I, very awkwardly, for I seemed
taking a violent compliment only as my due; but I knew not how to put
him off as I would another person.']
His Majesty having observed to him that he supposed he must have read a
great deal; Johnson answered, that he thought more than he read[1]; that
he had read a great deal in the early part of his life, but having
fallen into ill health, he had not been able to read much, compared with
others: for instance, he said he had not read much, compared with Dr.
Warburton[2]. Upon which the King said, that he heard Dr. Warburton was
a man of such general knowledge, that you could scarce talk with him on
any subject on which he was not qualified to speak; and that his
learning resembled Garrick's acting, in its universality[3]. His Majesty
then talked of the controversy between Warburton and Lowth, which he
seemed to have read, and asked Johnson what he thought of it. Johnson
answered, 'Warburton has most general, most scholastick learning; Lowth
is the more correct scholar. I do not know which of them calls names
best.' The King was pleased to say he was of the same opinion; adding,
'You do not think, then, Dr. Johnson, that there was much argument in
the case.' Johnson said, he did not think there was[4]. 'Why truly,
(said the King,) when once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty
well at an end.'
[Footnote 1: In one part of the character of Pope (_Works_, viii. 319),
Johnson seems to be describing himself:--'He certainly was in his early
life a man of great literary curiosity; and when he wrote his _Essay on
Criticism_ had for his age a very wide acquaintance with books. When he
entered into the living world, it seems to have happened to him as to
many others, that he was less attentive to dead masters; he studied in
the academy of Paracelsus, and made the universe his favourite
volume.... His frequent references to history, his allusions to various
kinds of knowledge, and his images selected from art and nature, with
his observations on the operations of the mind and the modes of life,
show an intelligence perpetually on the wing, excursive, vigorous, and
diligent, eager to pursue knowledge, and attentive to retain it.' See
_ante_, i. 57.]
[Footnote 2: Johnson thus describes Warburton (_Works_, viii.
288):--'About this time [1732] Warburton began to make his appearance in
the first ranks of learning. He was a man of vigorous faculties, a mind
fervid and vehement, supplied by incessant and unlimited enquiry, with
wonderful extent and variety of knowledge.' Cradock (_Memoirs_, i. 188)
says that 'Bishop Kurd always wondered where it was possible for
Warburton to meet with certain anecdotes with which not only his
conversation, but likewise his writings, abounded. "I could have readily
informed him," said Mrs. Warburton, "for, when we passed our winters in
London, he would often, after his long and severe studies, send out for
a whole basketful of books from the circulating libraries; and at times
I have gone into his study, and found him laughing, though alone."' Lord
Macaulay was, in this respect, the Warburton of our age.]
[Footnote 3: The Rev. Mr. Strahan clearly recollects having been told by
Johnson, that the King observed that Pope made Warburton a Bishop.
'True, Sir, (said Johnson,) but Warburton did more for Pope; he made him
a Christian:' alluding, no doubt, to his ingenious Comments on the
_Essay on Man_. BOSWELL. The statements both of the King and Johnson are
supported by two passages in Johnson's _Life of Pope_, (_Works_, viii.
289, 290). He says of Warburton's Comments:--'Pope, who probably began
to doubt the tendency of his own work, was glad that the positions, of
which he perceived himself not to know the full meaning, could by any
mode of interpretation be made to mean well.... From this time Pope
lived in the closest intimacy with his commentator, and amply rewarded
his kindness and his zeal; for he introduced him to Mr. Murray, by whose
interest he became preacher at Lincoln's Inn; and to Mr. Allen, who gave
him his niece and his estate, and by consequence a bishoprick.' See also
the account given by Johnson, in Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 21, 1773.
Bishop Law in his Revised Preface to Archbishop King's _Origin of Evil_
(1781), p. xvii, writes:--'I had now the satisfaction of seeing that
those very principles which had been maintained by Archbishop King were
adopted by Mr. Pope in his Essay on Man; this I used to recollect, and
sometimes relate, with pleasure, conceiving that such an account did no
less honour to the poet than to our philosopher; but was soon made to
understand that anything of that kind was taken highly amiss by one
[Warburton] who had once held the doctrine of that same Essay to be rank
atheism, but afterwards turned a warm advocate for it, and thought
proper to deny the account above-mentioned, with heavy menaces against
those who presumed to insinuate that Pope borrowed anything from any man
whatsoever.' See _post_, Oct. 10, 1779.]
[Footnote 4: In Gibbon's _Memoirs_, a fine passage is quoted from
Lowth's Defence of the University of Oxford, against Warburton's
reproaches. 'I transcribe with pleasure this eloquent passage,' writes
Gibbon, 'without inquiring whether in this angry controversy the spirit
of Lowth himself is purified from the intolerant zeal which Warburton
had ascribed to the genius of the place.' Gibbon's _Misc. Works_, i. 47.
See BOSWELL'S _Hebrides_, Aug. 28, 1773.]
His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord Lyttelton's
_History_, which was then just published[1]. Johnson said, he thought
his style pretty good, but that he had blamed Henry the Second rather
too much. 'Why, (said the King), they seldom do these things by halves.'
'No, Sir, (answered Johnson), not to Kings.' But fearing to be
misunderstood, he proceeded to explain himself; and immediately
subjoined, 'That for those who spoke worse of Kings than they deserved,
he could find no excuse; but that he could more easily conceive how some
might speak better of them than they deserved, without any ill
intention; for, as Kings had much in their power to give, those who were
favoured by them would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their
praises; and as this proceeded from a good motive, it was certainly
excusable, as far as errour could be excusable.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, April 15, 1773, where Johnson says that
Lyttelton 'in his _History_ wrote the most vulgar Whiggism,' and April
10, 1776. Gibbon, who had reviewed it this year, says in his _Memoirs_
(_Misc. Works_, i. 207): 'The public has ratified my judgment of that
voluminous work, in which sense and learning are not illuminated by a
ray of genius.']
The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill[1]. Johnson
answered, that he was an ingenious man, but had no veracity; and
immediately mentioned, as an instance of it, an assertion of that
writer, that he had seen objects magnified to a much greater degree by
using three or four microscopes at a time, than by using one. 'Now,
(added Johnson,) every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the
more of them he looks through, the less the object will appear.' 'Why,
(replied the King,) this is not only telling an untruth, but telling it
clumsily; for, if that be the case, every one who can look through a
microscope will be able to detect him[2].'
[Footnote 1: Hawkins says of him (_Life_, p. 211):--'He obtained from
one of those universities which would scarce refuse a degree to an
apothecary's horse a diploma for that of doctor of physic.' He became a
great compiler and in one year earned L1500. In the end he turned
quack-doctor. He was knighted by the King of Sweden 'in return for a
present to that monarch of his _Vegetable System_.' He at least thrice
attacked Garrick (Murphy's _Garrick_, pp. 136, 189, 212), who replied
with three epigrams, of which the last is well-known:--
'For Farces and Physic his equal there scarce is;
His Farces are Physic, his Physic a Farce is.'
Horace Walpole (_Letters_ iii. 372), writing on Jan. 3, 1761,
said:--'Would you believe, what I know is fact, that Dr. Hill earned
fifteen guineas a week by working for wholesale dealers? He was at once
employed on six voluminous works of Botany, Husbandry, &c., published
weekly.' Churchill in the Rescind thus writes of him:--
'Who could so nobly grace the motley list,
Actor, Inspector, Doctor, Botanist?
Knows any one so well--sure no one knows--
At once to play, prescribe, compound, compose?'
Churchill's _Poems_, i. 6. In the _Gent. Mag_. xxii. 568, it is stated
that he had acted pantomime, tragedy and comedy, and had been damned in
all.]
[Footnote 2: Mr. Croker quotes Bishop Elrington, who says, 'Dr. Johnson
was unjust to Hill, and showed that _he_ did not understand the
subject.' Croker's _Boswell_, p. 186.]
'I now, (said Johnson to his friends, when relating what had passed)
began to consider that I was depreciating this man in the estimation of
his Sovereign, and thought it was time for me to say something that
might be more favourable.' He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was,
notwithstanding, a very curious observer; and if he would have been
contented to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been a
very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse to such mean
expedients to raise his reputation[1].
[Footnote 1: D'Israeli (_Curiosities of Literature_, ed. 1834, i. 201)
says that 'Hill, once when he fell sick, owned to a friend that he had
over-fatigued himself with writing seven works at once, one of which was
on architecture and another on cookery.' D'Israeli adds that Hill
contracted to translate a Dutch work on insects for fifty guineas. As he
was ignorant of the language, he bargained with another translator for
twenty-five guineas. This man, who was equally ignorant, rebargained
with a third, who perfectly understood his original, for twelve
guineas.]
The King then talked of literary journals, mentioned particularly the
_Journal des Savans_, and asked Johnson if it was well done. Johnson
said, it was formerly very well done, and gave some account of the
persons who began it, and carried it on for some years; enlarging, at
the same time, on the nature and use of such works. The King asked him
if it was well done now. Johnson answered, he had no reason to think
that it was[1]. The King then asked him if there were any other literary
journals published in this kingdom, except the _Monthly_ and _Critical
Reviews_[2]; and on being answered there were no other, his Majesty
asked which of them was the best: Johnson answered, that the _Monthly
Review_ was done with most care, the _Critical_ upon the best
principles; adding that the authours of the _Monthly Review_ were
enemies to the Church[3]. This the King said he was sorry to hear.
[Footnote 1: Gibbon (_Misc. Works_, v. 442), writing on Dec. 20, 1763,
of the _Journal des Savans_, says:--'I can hardly express how much I am
delighted with this journal; its characteristics are erudition,
precision, and taste.... The father of all the rest, it is still their
superior.... There is nothing to be wished for in it but a little more
boldness and philosophy; but it is published under the Chancellor's
eye.']
[Footnote 2: Goldsmith, in his _Present State of Polite Learning_ (ch.
xi.), published in 1759, says;--'We have two literary reviews in London,
with critical newspapers and magazines without number. The compilers of
these resemble the commoners of Rome, they are all for levelling
property, not by increasing their own, but by diminishing that of
others.... The most diminutive son of fame or of famine has his _we_ and
his _us_, his _firstlys_ and his _secondlys_, as methodical as if bound
in cow-hide and closed with clasps of brass. Were these Monthly Reviews
and Magazines frothy, pert, or absurd, they might find some pardon, but
to be dull and dronish is an encroachment on the prerogative of a
folio.' ]
[Footnote 3: See _post_, April 10, 1766.]
The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Transactions, when
Johnson observed, that they had now a better method of arranging their
materials than formerly. 'Aye, (said the King,) they are obliged to Dr.
Johnson for that;' for his Majesty had heard and remembered the
circumstance, which Johnson himself had forgot[1].
[Footnote 1: Mr. White, the Librarian of the Royal Society, has, at my
request, kindly examined the records of the Royal Society, but has not
been able to discover what the 'circumstance' was. Neither is any light
thrown on it by Johnson's reviews of Birch's _History of the Royal
Society_ and _Philosophical Transactions_, vol. xlix. (_ante_, i. 309),
which I have examined.]
His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biography of this
country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. Johnson to undertake it.
Johnson signified his readiness to comply with his Majesty's wishes.
During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked to his Majesty with
profound respect, but still in his firm manly manner, with a sonorous
voice, and never in that subdued tone which is commonly used at the
levee and in the drawing-room[1]. After the King withdrew, Johnson
shewed himself highly pleased with his Majesty's conversation, and
gracious behaviour. He said to Mr. Barnard, 'Sir, they may talk of the
King as they will; but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen[2].'
And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, 'Sir, his manners are those
of as fine a gentleman as we may suppose Lewis the Fourteenth or Charles
the Second.'
[Footnote 1: 'Were you to converse with a King, you ought to be as easy
and unembarrassed as with your own valet-de-chambre; but yet every look,
word, and action should imply the utmost respect. What would be proper
and well-bred with others much your superior, would be absurd and
ill-bred with one so very much so.' Chesterfield's _Letters_, iii. 203.]
[Footnote 2: Imlac thus described to Rasselas his interview with the
Great Mogul:--'The emperor asked me many questions concerning my country
and my travels; and though I cannot now recollect anything that he
uttered above the power of a common man, he dismissed me astonished at
his wisdom, and enamoured of his goodness.' _Rasselas_, chap. ix.
Wraxall (_Memoirs_, edit. of 1884, i. 283) says that Johnson was no
judge of a fine gentleman. 'George III,' he adds, 'was altogether
destitute of these ornamental and adventitious endowments.' He mentions
'the oscillations of his body, the precipitation of his questions, none
of which, it was said, would wait for an answer, and the hurry of his
articulation.' Mr. Wheatley, in a note on this passage, quotes the
opinion of 'Adams, the American Envoy, who said, the "King is, I really
think, the most accomplished courtier in his dominions."']
At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of Johnson's friends was
collected round him to hear his account of this memorable conversation,
Dr. Joseph Warton, in his frank and lively manner[1], was very active in
pressing him to mention the particulars. 'Come now, Sir, this is an
interesting matter; do favour us with it.' Johnson, with great good
humour, complied.
[Footnote 1: 'Dr. Warton made me a most obsequious bow.... He is what
Dr. Johnson calls a rapturist, and I saw plainly he meant to pour forth
much civility into my ears. He is a very communicative, gay, and
pleasant converser, and enlivened the whole day by his readiness upon
all subjects.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 236. It is very likely that
he is 'the ingenious writer' mentioned _post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's
'Collection,' of whom Johnson said, 'Sir, he is an enthusiast by rule.'
Mr. Windham records that Johnson, speaking of Warton's admiration of
fine passages, said:--'His taste is amazement' (misprinted _amusement_).
Windham's _Diary_, p. 20. In her _Memoirs of Dr. Burney_ (ii. 82), Mme.
D'Arblay says that Johnson 'at times, when in gay spirits, would take
off Dr. Warton with the strongest humour; describing, almost
convulsively, the ecstasy with which he would seize upon the person
nearest to him, to hug in his arms, lest his grasp should be eluded,
while he displayed some picture or some prospect.' In that humourous
piece, _Probationary Odes for the Laureateship_ (p. xliii), Dr. Joseph
is made to hug his brother in his arms, when he sees him descend safely
from the balloon in which he had composed his _Ode_. Thomas Warton is
described in the same piece (p. 116) as 'a little, thick, squat,
red-faced man.' There was for some time a coolness between Johnson and
Dr. Warton. Warton, writing on Jan. 22, 1766, says:--'I only dined with
Johnson, who seemed cold and indifferent, and scarce said anything to
me; perhaps he has heard what I said of his _Shakespeare_, or rather was
offended at what I wrote to him--as he pleases.' Wooll's _Warton_, p.
312. Wooll says that a dispute took place between the two men at
Reynolds's house. 'One of the company overheard the following conclusion
of the dispute. JOHNSON. "Sir, I am not used to be contradicted."
WARTON. "Better for yourself and friends, Sir, if you were; our
admiration could not be increased, but our love might."' _Ib_ p. 98.]
He told them, 'I found his Majesty wished I should talk, and I made it
my business to talk. I find it does a man good to be talked to by his
Sovereign. In the first place, a man cannot be in a passion--.' Here
some question interrupted him, which is to be regretted, as he certainly
would have pointed out and illustrated many circumstances of advantage,
from being in a situation, where the powers of the mind are at once
excited to vigorous exertion, and tempered by reverential awe.
During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed in relating to the
circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particulars of what passed between
the King and him, Dr. Goldsmith remained unmoved upon a sopha at some
distance, affecting not to join in the least in the eager curiosity of
the company. He assigned as a reason for his gloom and seeming
inattention, that he apprehended Johnson had relinquished his purpose of
furnishing him with a Prologue to his play[1], with the hopes of which
he had been flattered; but it was strongly suspected that he was
fretting with chagrin and envy at the singular honour Dr. Johnson had
lately enjoyed. At length, the frankness and simplicity of his natural
character prevailed. He sprung from the sopha, advanced to Johnson, and
in a kind of flutter, from imagining himself in the situation which he
had just been hearing described, exclaimed, 'Well, you acquitted
yourself in this conversation better than I should have done; for I
should have bowed and stammered through the whole of it[2].'
[Footnote 1: _The Good-Natured Man_, _post_ p. 45.]
[Footnote 2: 'It has been said that the King only sought one interview
with Dr. Johnson. There was nothing to complain of; it was a compliment
paid by rank to letters, and once was enough. The King was more afraid
of this interview than Dr. Johnson was; and went to it as a schoolboy to
his task. But he did not want to have the trial repeated every day, nor
was it necessary. The very jealousy of his self-love marked his respect;
and if he thought the less of Dr. Johnson, he would have been more
willing to risk the encounter.' Hazlitt's _Conversations of Northcote_,
p. 45. It should seem that Johnson had a second interview with the King
thirteen years later. In 1780, Hannah More records (_Memoirs_, i.
174):--'Johnson told me he had been with the King that morning, who
enjoined him to add Spenser to his _Lives of the Poets_.' It is strange
that, so far as I know, this interview is not mentioned by any one else.
It is perhaps alluded to, _post_, Dec., 1784, when Mr. Nichols told
Johnson that he wished 'he would gratify his sovereign by a _Life of
Spenser_.']
I received no letter from Johnson this year; nor have I discovered any
of the correspondence[1] he had, except the two letters to Mr. Drummond,
which have been inserted, for the sake of connection with that to the
same gentleman in 1766. His diary affords no light as to his employment
at this time. He passed three months at Lichfield[2]; and I cannot omit
an affecting and solemn scene there, as related by himself[3]:
[Footnote 1: It is proper here to mention, that when I speak of his
correspondence, I consider it independent of the voluminous collection
of letters which, in the course of many years, he wrote to Mrs. Thrale,
which forms a separate part of his works; and as a proof of the high
estimation set on any thing which came from his pen, was sold by that
lady for the sum of five hundred pounds. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 2: He was away from the London 'near six months.' See _ante_,
ii. 30.]
[Footnote 3: On August 17 he recorded:--'I have communicated with Kitty,
and kissed her. I was for some time distracted, but at last more
composed. I commended my friends, and Kitty, Lucy, and I were much
affected. Kitty is, I think, going to heaven.' _Pr. and Med., p. 75_.]
'Sunday, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in the morning,
I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend, Catharine Chambers, who
came to live with my mother about 1724, and has been but little parted
from us since. She buried my father, my brother, and my mother. She is
now fifty-eight years old.
'I desired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to part for ever;
that as Christians, we should part with prayer; and that I would, if she
was willing, say a short prayer beside her. She expressed great desire
to hear me; and held up her poor hands, as she lay in bed, with great
fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following words:
'Almighty and most merciful Father, whose loving kindness is over all
thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy servant, who is grieved
with sickness. Grant that the sense of her weakness may add strength to
her faith, and seriousness to her repentance. And grant that by the help
of thy Holy Spirit, after the pains and labours of this short life, we
may all obtain everlasting happiness, through JESUS CHRIST our Lord; for
whose sake hear our prayers. Amen. Our Father, &c.
'I then kissed her. She told me, that to part was the greatest pain that
she had ever felt, and that she hoped we should meet again in a better
place. I expressed, with swelled eyes, and great emotion of tenderness,
the same hopes. We kissed, and parted. I humbly hope to meet again, and
to part no more[1].'
[Footnote 1: _Pr. and Med._, pp. 77 and 78. BOSWELL.]
By those who have been taught to look upon Johnson as a man of a harsh
and stern character, let this tender and affectionate scene be candidly
read; and let them then judge whether more warmth of heart, and grateful
kindness, is often found in human nature.
We have the following notice in his devotional record:
'August 2, 1767. I have been disturbed and unsettled for a long time,
and have been without resolution to apply to study or to business, being
hindered by sudden snatches[1].'
[Footnote 1: _Pr. and Med._, p. 73. BOSWELL. On Aug. 17, he
recorded:--'By abstinence from wine and suppers I obtained sudden and
great relief, and had freedom of mind restored to me, which I have
wanted for all this year, without being able to find any means of
obtaining it.' _Ib_ p. 74.]
He, however, furnished Mr. Adams with a Dedication[*] to the King of
that ingenious gentleman's _Treatise on the Globes_, conceived and
expressed in such a manner as could not fail to be very grateful to a
Monarch, distinguished for his love of the sciences.
This year was published a ridicule of his style, under the title of
_Lexiphanes_. Sir John Hawkins ascribes it to Dr. Kenrick[1]; but its
authour was one Campbell, a Scotch purser in the navy. The ridicule
consisted in applying Johnson's 'words of large meaning[2]' to
insignificant matters, as if one should put the armour of Goliath upon a
dwarf. The contrast might be laughable; but the dignity of the armour
must remain the same in all considerate minds. This malicious drollery,
therefore, it may easily be supposed, could do no harm to its
illustrious object[3].
[Footnote 1: Hawkins, in his second edition (p. 347) assigns it to
Campbell, 'who,' he says, 'as well for the malignancy of his heart as
his terrific countenance, was called horrible Campbell.']
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 218.]
[Footnote 3: The book is as dull as it is indecent. The 'drollery' is of
the following kind. Johnson is represented as saying:--'Without dubiety
you misapprehend this dazzling scintillation of conceit in totality, and
had you had that constant recurrence to my oraculous dictionary which
was incumbent upon you from the vehemence of my monitory injunctions,'
&c. p. 2.]
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT MR. ROTHWELL'S, PERFUMER, IN NEW
BOND-STREET, LONDON.
'DEAR SIR,
'That you have been all summer in London, is one more reason for which I
regret my long stay in the country. I hope that you will not leave the
town before my return. We have here only the chance of vacancies in the
passing carriages, and I have bespoken one that may, if it happens,
bring me to town on the fourteenth of this month; but this is not
certain.
'It will be a favour if you communicate this to Mrs. Williams: I long to
see all my friends.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Lichfield, Oct. 10, 1767.'
1768: AETAT. 59.--It appears from his notes of the state of his mind[1],
that he suffered great perturbation and distraction in 1768. Nothing of
his writing was given to the publick this year, except the Prologue[*]
to his friend Goldsmith's comedy of _The Good-natured Man_[2]. The first
lines of this Prologue are strongly characteristical of the dismal gloom
of his mind; which in his case, as in the case of all who are distressed
with the same malady of imagination, transfers to others its own
feelings. Who could suppose it was to introduce a comedy, when Mr.
Bensley solemnly began,
'Press'd with[3] the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind.'
[Footnote 1: _Pr. and Med._, p. 81. BOSWELL. 'This day,' he wrote on his
birthday, 'has been passed in great perturbation; I was distracted at
church in an uncommon degree, and my distress has had very little
intermission.... This day it came into my mind to write the history of
my melancholy. On this I purpose to deliberate; I know not whether it
may not too much disturb me.' See _post_, April 8, 1780.]
[Footnote 2: It is strange that Boswell nowhere quotes the lines in _The
Good-Natured Man_, in which Paoli is mentioned. 'That's from Paoli of
Corsica,' said Lofty. Act v. sc. i.]
[Footnote 3: In the original, 'Pressed _by_.' Boswell, in thus changing
the preposition, forgot what Johnson says in his _Plan of an English
Dictionary_ (_Works_, v. 12):--'We say, according to the present modes
of speech, The soldier died _of_ his wounds, and the sailor perished
_with_ hunger; and every man acquainted with our language would be
offended with a change of these particles, which yet seem originally
assigned by chance.']
But this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour shine the more.
In the spring of this year, having published my _Account of Corsica_,
with the _Journal of a Tour to that Island_[1], I returned to London[2],
very desirous to see Dr. Johnson, and hear him upon the subject. I found
he was at Oxford, with his friend Mr. Chambers[3], who was now Vinerian
Professor, and lived in New Inn Hall. Having had no letter from him
since that in which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and having
been told by somebody that he was offended at my having put into my Book
an extract of his letter to me at Paris[4], I was impatient to be with
him, and therefore followed him to Oxford, where I was entertained by
Mr. Chambers, with a civility which I shall ever gratefully remember. I
found that Dr. Johnson had sent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I
had nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent to my anxiety
than I wished him to be. Instead of giving, with the circumstances of
time and place, such fragments of his conversation as I preserved during
this visit to Oxford, I shall throw them together in continuation[5].
[Footnote 1: Boswell, writing to Temple on March 24, says:--'My book has
amazing celebrity; Lord Lyttelton, Mr. Walpole, Mrs. Macaulay, and Mr.
Garrick have all written me noble letters about it. There are two Dutch
translations going forward.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 145. It met with a
rapid sale. A third edition was called for within a year. Dilly, the
publisher, must have done very well by it, as he purchased the copyright
for one hundred guineas. _Ib_, p. 103. 'Pray read the new account of
Corsica,' wrote Horace Walpole to Gray on Feb. 18, 1768 (_Letters_, v.
85). 'The author is a strange being, and has a rage of knowing everybody
that ever was talked of. He forced himself upon me at Paris in spite of
my teeth and my doors.' To this Gray replied:--'Mr. Boswell's book has
pleased and moved me strangely; all, I mean, that relates to Paoli. He
is a man born two thousand years after his time! The pamphlet proves,
what I have always maintained, that any fool may write a most valuable
book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with
veracity.' In _The Letters of Boswell_ (p. 122) there is the following
under date of Nov. 9, 1767:--'I am always for fixing some period for my
perfection, as far as possible. Let it be when my account of _Corsica_
is published; I shall then have a character which I must support.' In
April 16 of the following year, a few weeks after the book had come out,
he writes:--'To confess to you at once, Temple, I have since my last
coming to town been as wild as ever.' (p. 146.)]
[Footnote 2: Boswell used to put notices of his movements in the
newspapers, such as--'James Boswell, Esq., is expected in town.' _Public
Advertiser_, Feb. 28, 1768. 'Yesterday James Boswell, Esq., arrived from
Scotland at his lodgings in Half-Moon Street, Piccadilly.' _Ib_ March
24, 1768. Prior's _Goldsmith_, i. 449.]
[Footnote 3: Johnson was very ill during this visit. Mrs. Thrale had at
the same time given birth to a daughter, and had been nursed by her
mother. His thoughts, therefore, were turned on illness. Writing to Mrs.
Thrale, he says:--'To roll the weak eye of helpless anguish, and see
nothing on any side but cold indifference, will, I hope, happen to none
whom I love or value; it may tend to withdraw the mind from life, but
has no tendency to kindle those affections which fit us for a purer and
a nobler state.... These reflections do not grow out of any discontent
at C's [Chambers's] behaviour; he has been neither negligent nor
troublesome; nor do I love him less for having been ill in his house.
This is no small degree of praise.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 13.]
[Footnote 4: See _ante_, ii. 3, note.]
[Footnote 5: The editor of the _Letters of Boswell_ justly says (p.
149):--'The detail in the _Life of Johnson_ is rather scanty about this
period; dissipation, the _History of Corsica_, wife-hunting, ...
interfered perhaps at this time with Boswell's pursuit of Dr. Johnson.']
I asked him whether, as a moralist, he did not think that the practice
of the law, in some degree, hurt the nice feeling of honesty. JOHNSON.
'Why no, Sir, if you act properly. You are not to deceive your clients
with false representations of your opinion: you are not to tell lies to
a judge.' BOSWELL. 'But what do you think of supporting a cause which
you know to be bad?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you do not know it to be good or bad
till the Judge determines it. I have said that you are to state facts
fairly; so that your thinking, or what you call knowing, a cause to be
bad, must be from reasoning, must be from your supposing your arguments
to be weak and inconclusive. But, Sir, that is not enough. An argument
which does not convince yourself, may convince the Judge to whom you
urge it: and if it does convince him, why, then, Sir, you are wrong, and
he is right. It is his business to judge; and you are not to be
confident in your own opinion that a cause is bad, but to say all you
can for your client, and then hear the Judge's opinion.' BOSWELL. 'But,
Sir, does not affecting a warmth when you have no warmth, and appearing
to be clearly of one opinion when you are in reality of another opinion,
does not such dissimulation impair one's honesty? Is there not some
danger that a lawyer may put on the same mask in common life, in the
intercourse with his friends?' JOHNSON. 'Why no, Sir. Everybody knows
you are paid for affecting warmth for your client; and it is, therefore,
properly no dissimulation: the moment you come from the bar you resume
your usual behaviour. Sir, a man will no more carry the artifice of the
bar into the common intercourse of society, than a man who is paid for
tumbling upon his hands will continue to tumble upon his hands when he
should walk on his feet[1].'
[Footnote 1: See _Boswell's_ Hebrides, Aug. 15, 1773, for a discussion
of the same question. Lord Eldon has recorded (_Life_, i. 106), that
when he first went the Northern Circuit (about 1776-1780), he asked Jack
Lee (_post_, March 20, 1778), who was not scrupulous in his advocacy,
whether his method could be justified. 'Oh, yes,' he said, 'undoubtedly.
Dr. Johnson had said that counsel were at liberty to state, as the
parties themselves would state, what it was most for their interest to
state.' After some interval, and when he had had his evening bowl of
milk punch and two or three pipes of tobacco, he suddenly said, 'Come,
Master Scott, let us go to bed. I have been thinking upon the questions
that you asked me, and I am not quite so sure that the conduct you
represented will bring a man peace at the last.' Lord Eldon, after
stating pretty nearly what Johnson had said, continues:--'But it may be
questioned whether even this can be supported.']
Talking of some of the modern plays, he said _False Delicacy_ was
totally void of character[1]. He praised Goldsmith's _Good-natured Man_;
said, it was the best comedy that had appeared since _The Provoked
Husband_[2], and that there had not been of late any such character
exhibited on the stage as that of Croaker. I observed it was the
Suspirius of his Rambler. He said, Goldsmith had owned he had borrowed
it from thence[3]. 'Sir, (continued he,) there is all the difference in
the world between characters of nature and characters of manners; and
_there_ is the difference between the characters of Fielding and those
of Richardson. Characters of manners are very entertaining; but they are
to be understood, by a more superficial observer, than characters of
nature, where a man must dive into the recesses of the human heart.'
[Footnote 1: Garrick brought out Hugh Kelly's _False Delicacy_ at Drury
Lane six days before Goldsmith's _Good-Natured Man_ was brought out at
Covent Garden. 'It was the town talk,' says Mr. Forster (_Life of
Goldsmith_, ii. 93), some weeks before either performance took place,
'that the two comedies were to be pitted against each other.' _False
Delicacy_ had a great success. Ten thousand copies of it were sold
before the season closed. (_Ib_ p. 96.) 'Garrick's prologue to _False
Delicacy_,' writes Murphy (_Life of Garrick_, p. 287), 'promised a moral
and sentimental comedy, and with an air of pleasantry called it a sermon
in five acts. The critics considered it in the same light, but the
general voice was in favour of the play during a run of near twenty
nights. Foote, at last, by a little piece called _Piety in Pattens_,
brought that species of composition into disrepute.' It is recorded in
Johnson's _Works_ (1787), xi. 201, that when some one asked Johnson
whether they should introduce Hugh Kelly to him, 'No, Sir,' says he, 'I
never desire to converse with a man who has written more than he has
read.' See _post_, beginning of 1777.]
[Footnote 2: _The Provoked Husband, or A Journey to London_, by Vanbrugh
and Colley Cibber. It was brought out in 1727-8. See _post_, June 3,
1784.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, i. 213.]
It always appeared to me that he estimated the compositions of
Richardson too highly, and that he had an unreasonable prejudice against
Fielding[1]. In comparing those two writers, he used this expression:
'that there was as great a difference between them as between a man who
knew how a watch was made, and a man who could tell the hour by looking
on the dial-plate[2].' This was a short and figurative state of his
distinction between drawing characters of nature and characters only of
manners. But I cannot help being of opinion, that the neat watches of
Fielding are as well constructed as the large clocks of Richardson, and
that his dial-plates are brighter. Fielding's characters, though they do
not expand themselves so widely in dissertation, are as just pictures of
human nature, and I will venture to say, have more striking features,
and nicer touches of the pencil; and though Johnson used to quote with
approbation a saying of Richardson's, 'that the virtues of Fielding's
heroes were the vices of a truly good man,' I will venture to add, that
the moral tendency of Fielding's writings, though it does not encourage
a strained and rarely possible virtue, is ever favourable to honour and
honesty, and cherishes the benevolent and generous affections. He who is
as good as Fielding would make him, is an amiable member of society, and
may be led on by more regulated instructors, to a higher state of
ethical perfection.
[Footnote 1: April 6, 1772, and April 12, 1776.]
[Footnote 2: Richardson, writing on Dec. 7, 1756, to Miss Fielding,
about her Familiar Letters, says:--'What a knowledge of the human heart!
Well might a critical judge of writing say, as he did to me, that your
late brother's knowledge of it was not (fine writer as he was)
comparable to yours. His was but as the knowledge of the outside of a
clock-work machine, while yours was that of all the finer springs and
movements of the inside.' _Richardson Corres_. ii. 104. Mrs. Calderwood,
writing of her visit to the Low Countries in 1756, says:--'All
Richison's [Richardson's] books are translated, and much admired abroad;
but for Fielding's the foreigners have no notion of them, and do not
understand them, as the manners are so entirely English.' _Letters, &c.,
of Mrs. Calderwood_, p. 208]
Johnson proceeded: 'Even Sir Francis Wronghead is a character of
manners, though drawn with great humour.' He then repeated, very
happily, all Sir Francis's credulous account to Manly of his being with
'the great man,' and securing a place[1]. I asked him, if _The
Suspicious Husband_[2] did not furnish a well-drawn character, that of
Ranger. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; Ranger is just a rake, a mere rake[3], and a
lively young fellow, but no _character_'.
[Footnote 1: In _The Provoked Husband_, act iv. sc. 1.]
[Footnote 2: By Dr. Hoadley, brought out in 1747. 'This was the first
good comedy from the time of _The Provoked Husband_ in 1727.' Murphy's
_Garrick_, p. 78.]
[Footnote 3: Madame Riccoboni, writing to Garrick from Paris on Sept. 7,
1768, says:--'On ne supporterait point ici l'indecence de Ranger. Les
tresindecens Francaisdeviennent delicats sur leur theatre, a mesure
qu'ils le sont moins dans leur conduite.' _Garrick's Corres._ ii. 548.]
The great Douglas Cause[1] was at this time a very general subject of
discussion. I found he had not studied it with much attention, but had
only heard parts of it occasionally. He, however, talked of it, and
said, 'I am of opinion that positive proof of fraud should not be
required of the plaintiff, but that the Judges should decide according
as probability shall appear to preponderate, granting to the defendant
the presumption of filiation to be strong in his favour. And I think
too, that a good deal of weight should be allowed to the dying
declarations, because they were spontaneous. There is a great difference
between what is said without our being urged to it, and what is said
from a kind of compulsion. If I praise a man's book without being asked
my opinion of it, that is honest praise, to which one may trust. But if
an authour asks me if I like his book, and I give him something like
praise, it must not be taken as my real opinion.'
[Footnote 1: 'The question in dispute was as to the heirship of Mr.
Archibald Douglas. If he were really the son of Lady Jane Douglas, he
would inherit large family estates; but if he were supposititious, then
they would descend to the Duke of Hamilton. The Judges of the Court of
Session had been divided in opinion, eight against seven, the Lord
President Dundas giving the casting vote in favour of the Duke of
Hamilton; and in consequence of it he and several other of the judges
had, on the reversal by the Lords, their houses attacked by a mob. It is
said, but not upon conclusive authority, that Boswell himself headed the
mob which broke his own father's windows.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 86.
See _post_, April 27, 1773, and Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 24-26, 1773.
Mr. J. H. Burton, in his _Life of Hume_ (ii. 150), says:--'Men about to
meet each other in company used to lay an injunction on themselves not
to open their lips on the subject, so fruitful was it in debates and
brawls.' Boswell, according to the Bodleian catalogue, was the author of
_Dorando, A Spanish Tale_, 1767. In this tale the Douglas cause is
narrated under the thinnest disguise. It is reviewed in the _Gent. Mag._
for 1767, p. 361.]
'I have not been troubled for a long time with authours desiring my
opinion of their works[1]. I used once to be sadly plagued with a man
who wrote verses, but who literally had no other notion of a verse, but
that it consisted of ten syllables. _Lay your knife and your fork,
across your plate_, was to him a verse:
'Lay your knife and your fork, across your plate.
'As he wrote a great number of verses, he sometimes by chance made good
ones, though he did not know it.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, under April 19, 1772, March 15, 1779, and June
2, 1781.]
He renewed his promise of coming to Scotland, and going with me to the
Hebrides, but said he would now content himself with seeing one or two
of the most curious of them. He said, 'Macaulay[1], who writes the
account of St. Kilda, set out with a prejudice against prejudices, and
wanted to be a smart modern thinker; and yet he affirms for a truth,
that when a ship arrives there, all the inhabitants are seized with a
cold[2].'
[Footnote 1: Revd. Kenneth Macaulay. See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 27,
1773. He was the great-uncle of Lord Macaulay.]
[Footnote 2: Martin, in his _St. Kilda_ (p. 38), had stated that the
people of St. Kilda 'are seldom troubled with a cough, except at the
Steward's landing. I told them plainly,' he continues, 'that I thought
all this notion of infection was but a mere fancy, at which they seemed
offended, saying, that never any before the minister and myself was
heard to doubt of the truth of it, which is plainly demonstrated upon
the landing of every boat.' The usual 'infected cough,' came, he says,
upon his visit. Macaulay (_History of St. Kilda_, p. 204) says that he
had gone to the island a disbeliever, but that by eight days after his
arrival all the inhabitants were infected with this disease. See also
_post_, March, 21, 1772, and Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 2, 1773.]
Dr. John Campbell[1], the celebrated writer, took a great deal of pains
to ascertain this fact, and attempted to account for it on physical
principles, from the effect of effluvia from human bodies. Johnson, at
another time[2], praised Macaulay for his '_magnanimity_' in asserting
this wonderful story, because it was well attested. A Lady of Norfolk,
by a letter to my friend Dr. Burney, has favoured me with the following
solution: 'Now for the explication of this seeming mystery, which is so
very obvious as, for that reason, to have escaped the penetration of Dr.
Johnson and his friend, as well as that of the authour. Reading the book
with my ingenious friend, the late Reverend Mr. Christian, of Docking--
after ruminating a little, "The cause, (says he,) is a natural one. The
situation of St. Kilda renders a North-East Wind indispensably necessary
before a stranger can land[3]. The wind, not the stranger, occasions an
epidemic cold." If I am not mistaken, Mr. Macaulay is dead; if living,
this solution might please him, as I hope it will Mr. Boswell, in return
for the many agreeable hours his works have afforded us.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 1, 1763.]
[Footnote 2: _Post_, March 21, 1772.]
[Footnote 3: This is not the case. Martin (p. 9) says that the only
landing place is inaccessible except under favour of a neap tide, a
north-east or west wind, or with a perfect calm. He himself was rowed to
St. Kilda, 'the inhabitants admiring to see us get thither contrary to
the wind and tide' (p. 5).]
Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learning[1]. 'There
is here, Sir, (said he,) such a progressive emulation. The students are
anxious to appear well to their tutors; the tutors are anxious to have
their pupils appear well in the college; the colleges are anxious to
have their students appear well in the University; and there are
excellent rules of discipline in every college. That the rules are
sometimes ill observed, may be true; but is nothing against the system.
The members of an University may, for a season, be unmindful of their
duty. I am arguing for the excellency of the institution[2].'
[Footnote 1: That for one kind of learning Oxford has no advantages, he
shows in a letter that he wrote there on Aug. 4, 1777. 'I shall
inquire,' he says, 'about the harvest when I come into a region where
anything necessary to life is understood.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 349. At
Lichfield he reached that region. 'My barber, a man not unintelligent,
speaks magnificently of the harvest;' _Ib_ p. 351.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, Sept. 14, 1777.]
Of Guthrie[1], he said, 'Sir, he is a man of parts. He has no great
regular fund of knowledge; but by reading so long, and writing so long,
he no doubt has picked up a good deal.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 116.]
He said he had lately been a long while at Lichfield, but had grown very
weary before he left it. BOSWELL. 'I wonder at that, Sir; it is your
native place.' JOHNSON. 'Why, so is Scotland _your_ native place.'
His prejudice against Scotland appeared remarkably strong at this time.
When I talked of our advancement in literature[1], 'Sir, (said he,) you
have learnt a little from us, and you think yourselves very great men.
Hume would never have written History, had not Voltaire written it
before him[2]. He is an echo of Voltaire.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we have
Lord Kames[3].'
[Footnote 1: The advancement had been very rapid. 'When Dr. Robertson's
career commenced,' writes Dugald Stewart in his _Life_ of that historian
(p. 157), 'the trade of authorship was unknown in Scotland.' Smollet, in
_Humphry Clinker_, published three years after this conversation, makes
Mr. Bramble write (Letter of Aug. 8):--'Edinburgh is a hot-bed of
genius. I have had the good fortune to be made acquainted with many
authors of the first distinction; such as the two Humes [David Hume and
John Home, whose names had the same pronunciation], Robertson, Smith,
Wallace, Blair, Ferguson, Wilkie, &c.' To these might be added Smollett
himself, Boswell, Reid, Beattie, Kames, Monboddo. Henry Mackenzie and
Dr. Henry began to publish in 1771. Gibbon, writing to Robertson in
1779, says:--'I have often considered with some sort of envy the
valuable society which you possess in so narrow a compass.' Stewart's
_Robertson_, p. 363.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, April 30, 1773, where Johnson owned that he had
not read Hume. J.H. Burton (_Life of Hume_, ii. 129), after stating that
'Hume was the first to add to a mere narrative of events an enquiry into
the progress of the people, &c.,' says:--'There seems to be no room for
the supposition that he had borrowed the idea from Voltaire's _Essai sur
les Moeurs_. Hume's own _Political Discourses_ are as close an approach
to this method of inquiry as the work of Voltaire; and if we look for
such productions of other writers as may have led him into this train of
thought, it would be more just to name Bacon and Montesquieu.']
[Footnote 3: See _post_, May 8 and 13, 1778.]
JOHNSON. 'You _have_ Lord Kames. Keep him; ha, ha, ha! We don't envy you
him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson?'
BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'Does the dog talk of me?'
BOSWELL. 'Indeed, Sir, he does, and loves you.' Thinking that I now had
him in a corner, and being solicitous for the literary fame of my
country, I pressed him for his opinion on the merit of Dr. Robertson's
_History of Scotland_. But, to my surprize, he escaped.--'Sir, I love
Robertson, and I won't talk of his book[1].'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, April 30, 1773, April 29, 1778, and Oct. 10,
1779.]
It is but justice both to him and Dr. Robertson to add, that though he
indulged himself in this sally of wit, he had too good taste not to be
fully sensible of the merits of that admirable work.
An essay, written by Mr. Deane, a divine of the Church of England,
maintaining the future life of brutes, by an explication of certain
parts of the scriptures[1], was mentioned, and the doctrine insisted on
by a gentleman who seemed fond of curious speculation. Johnson, who did
not like to hear of any thing concerning a future state which was not
authorised by the regular canons of orthodoxy, discouraged this talk;
and being offended at its continuation, he watched an opportunity to
give the gentleman a blow of reprehension. So, when the poor
speculatist, with a serious metaphysical pensive face, addressed him,
'But really, Sir, when we see a very sensible dog, we don't know what to
think of him;' Johnson, rolling with joy at the thought which beamed in
his eye, turned quickly round, and replied, 'True, Sir: and when we see
a very foolish _fellow_, we don't know what to think of _him_.' He then
rose up, strided to the fire, and stood for some time laughing and
exulting.
[Footnote 1: _An Essay on the Future Life of Brutes_. By Richard Dean,
Curate of Middleton, Manchester, 1767. The 'part of the Scriptures' on
which the author chiefly relies is the _Epistle to the Romans_, viii.
19-23. He also finds support for his belief in 'those passages in
_Isaiah_ where the prophet speaks of new Heavens, and a new Earth, of
the Lion as eating straw like the Ox, &c.' Vol. ii. pp. x, 4.]
I told him that I had several times, when in Italy, seen the experiment
of placing a scorpion within a circle of burning coals; that it ran
round and round in extreme pain; and finding no way to escape, retired
to the centre, and like a true Stoick philosopher, darted its sting into
its head, and thus at once freed itself from its woes. 'This must end
'em[1].' I said, this was a curious fact, as it shewed deliberate
suicide in a reptile. Johnson would not admit the fact. He said,
Maupertuis[2] was of opinion that it does not kill itself, but dies of
the heat; that it gets to the centre of the circle, as the coolest
place; that its turning its tail in upon its head is merely a
convulsion, and that it does not sting itself. He said he would be
satisfied if the great anatomist Morgagni, after dissecting a scorpion
on which the experiment had been tried, should certify that its sting
had penetrated into its head.
[Footnote 1: The words that Addison's Cato uses as he lays his hand on
his sword. Act v. sc. 1.]
[Footnote 2: I should think it impossible not to wonder at the variety
of Johnson's reading, however desultory it may have been. Who could have
imagined that the High Church of England-man would be so prompt in
quoting _Maupertuis_, who, I am sorry to think, stands in the list of
those unfortunate mistaken men, who call themselves _esprits forts_. I
have, however, a high respect for that Philosopher whom the Great
Frederick of Prussia loved and honoured, and addressed pathetically in
one of his Poems,--
'Maupertuis, cher Maupertuis,
Que notre vie est peu de chose!'
There was in Maupertuis a vigour and yet a tenderness of sentiment,
united with strong intellectual powers, and uncommon ardour of soul.
Would he had been a Christian! I cannot help earnestly venturing to hope
that he is one now. BOSWELL. Voltaire writing to D'Alembert on Aug. 25,
1759, says:--'Que dites-vous de Maupertuis, mort entre deux capucins?'
Voltaire's _Works_, lxii. 94. The stanza from which Boswell quotes is as
follows:--
'O Maupertuis, cher Maupertuis,
Que notre vie est peu de chose!
Cette fleur, qui brille aujourd'hui
Demain se fane a peine eclose;
Tout perit, tout est emporte
Par la dure fatalite
Des arrtes de la destinee;
Votre vertu, vos grands talents
Ne pourront obtenir du temps
Le seul delai d'une journee.'
_La vie est un Songe. Euvres de
Frederic II (edit. 1849), x. 40.]
He seemed pleased to talk of natural philosophy. 'That woodcocks, (said
he,) fly over to the northern countries is proved, because they have
been observed at sea. Swallows certainly sleep all the winter. A number
of them conglobulate together[1], by flying round and round, and then
all in a heap throw themselves under water, and lye in the bed of a
river[2].' He told us, one of his first essays was a Latin poem upon the
glow-worm. I am sorry I did not ask where it was to be found.
[Footnote 1: Johnson does not give _Conglobulate_ in his _Dictionary_;
only _conglobe_. If he used the word it is not likely that he said
'conglobulate _together_.']
[Footnote 2: Gilbert White, writing on Nov. 4, 1767, after mentioning
that he had seen swallows roosting in osier-beds by the river,
says:--'This seems to give some countenance to the northern opinion
(strange as it is) of their retiring under water.' White's _Selborne_,
Letter xii. See also _post_, May 7, 1773.]
Talking of the Russians and the Chinese, he advised me to read Bell's
travels[1]. I asked him whether I should read Du Halde's account of
China[2]. 'Why yes, (said he) as one reads such a book; that is to say,
consult it.'
[Footnote 1: _Travels from St. Petersburgh in Russia to divers parts of
Asia_. By John Bell, Glasgow, 1763: 4to. 2 vols.]
[Footnote 2: I. D'Israeli (_Curiosities of Literature_, ed. 1834, i.
194) ranks this book among Literary Impostures. 'Du Halde never
travelled ten leagues from Paris in his life; though he appears by his
writings to be familiar with Chinese scenery.' See _ante_, i. 136.]
He talked of the heinousness of the crime of adultery, by which the
peace of families was destroyed. He said, 'Confusion of progeny
constitutes the essence of the crime; and therefore a woman who breaks
her marriage vows is much more criminal than a man who does it.[1] A
man, to be sure, is criminal in the sight of God: but he does not do his
wife a very material injury, if he does not insult her; if, for
instance, from mere wantonness of appetite, he steals privately to her
chambermaid. Sir, a wife ought not greatly to resent this. I would not
receive home a daughter who had run away from her husband on that
account. A wife should study to reclaim her husband by more attention to
please him. Sir, a man will not, once in a hundred instances, leave his
wife and go to a harlot, if his wife has not been negligent of
pleasing.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, Oct. 10, 1779.]
Here he discovered that acute discrimination, that solid judgement, and
that knowledge of human nature, for which he was upon all occasions
remarkable. Taking care to keep in view then moral and religious duty,
as understood in our nation, he shewed clearly from reason and good
sense, the greater degree of culpability in the one sex deviating from
it than the other; and, at the same time, inculcated a very useful
lesson as to _the way to keep him_.
I asked him if it was not hard that one deviation from chastity should
so absolutely ruin a young woman. JOHNSON. 'Why, no, Sir; it is the
great principle which she is taught. When she has given up that
principle, she has given up every notion of female honour and virtue,
which are all included in chastity.'
A gentleman[1] talked to him of a lady whom he greatly admired and
wished to marry, but was afraid of her superiority of talents. 'Sir,
(said he) you need not be afraid; marry her. Before a year goes about,
you'll find that reason much weaker, and that wit not so bright.' Yet
the gentleman may be justified in his apprehension by one of Dr.
Johnson's admirable sentences in his life of Waller: 'He doubtless
praised many[2] whom he would have been afraid to marry; and, perhaps,
married one whom he would have been ashamed to praise. Many qualities
contribute to domestic happiness, upon which poetry has no colours to
bestow; and many airs and sallies may delight imagination, which he who
flatters them never can approve.'
[Footnote 1: Boswell, in his correspondence with Temple in 1767 and
1768, passes in review the various ladies whom he proposes to marry. The
lady described in this paragraph--for the 'gentleman' is clearly
Boswell--is 'the fair and lively Zelide,' a Dutch-woman. She was
translating his _Corsica_ into French. On March 24, 1768, he wrote, 'I
must have her.' On April 26, he asked his father's permission to go over
to Holland to see her. But on May 14 he forwarded to Temple one of her
letters. 'Could,' he said, 'any actress at any of the theatres attack me
with a keener--what is the word? not fury, something softer. The
lightning that flashes with so much brilliance may scorch, and does not
her esprit do so?' _Letters of Boswell_, pp. 144-150.]
[Footnote 2: In the original it is _some_ not _many_. Johnson's _Works_,
vii. 182.]
He praised Signor Baretti. 'His account of Italy is a very entertaining
book[1]; and, Sir, I know no man who carries his head higher in
conversation than Baretti[2]. There are strong powers in his mind. He
has not, indeed, many hooks; but with what hooks he has, he grapples
very forcibly.'
[Footnote 1: _An account of the Manners and Customs of Italy_, by Joseph
Baretti, London, 1768. The book would be still more entertaining were it
not written as a reply to Sharp's _Letters on Italy_. _Post_ under April
29, 1776.]
[Footnote 2: Mrs. Piozzi wrote of him: 'His character is easily seen,
and his soul above disguise, haughty and insolent, and breathing
defiance against all mankind; while his powers of mind exceed most
people's, and his powers of purse are so slight that they leave him
dependent on all. Baretti is for ever in the state of a stream damned
up; if he could once get loose, he would bear down all before him.'
Hayward's _Piozzi_, ii. 335.]
At this time I observed upon the dial-plate of his watch[1] a short
Greek inscription, taken from the New Testament, _Nux gar erchetai_[2],
being the first words of our SAVIOUR'S solemn admonition to the
improvement of that time which is allowed us to prepare for eternity:
'the night cometh, when no man can work.' He sometime afterwards laid
aside this dial-plate; and when I asked him the reason, he said, 'It
might do very well upon a clock which a man keeps in his closet; but to
have it upon his watch which he carries about with him, and which is
often looked at by others, might be censured as ostentatious.' Mr.
Steevens is now possessed of the dial-plate inscribed as above.
[Footnote 1: According to Hawkins (_Life_, p. 460), the watch was new
this year, and was, he believed, the first Johnson ever had.]
[Footnote 2: _St. John_, ix. 4. In _Pr. and Med._, p. 233, is the
following:--'Ejaculation imploring diligence. "O God, make me to
remember that the night cometh when no man can work."' Porson, in his
witty attack on Sir John Hawkins, originally published in the _Gent.
Mag._ for 1787, quotes the inscription as a proof of Hawkins's Greek.
'_Nux gar erchetai_. The meaning is (says Sir John) _For the night
cometh_. And so it is, Mr. Urban.' Porson _Tracts_, p. 337.]
He remained at Oxford a considerable time[1]; I was obliged to go to
London, where I received his letter, which had been returned from
Scotland.
[Footnote 1: He thus wrote of himself from Oxford to Mrs. Thrale:--'This
little dog does nothing, but I hope he will mend; he is now reading
_Jack the Giant-killer_. Perhaps so noble a narrative may rouse in him
the soul of enterprise.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 9.]
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'MY DEAR BOSWELL,
'I have omitted a long time to write to you, without knowing very well
why. I could now tell why I should not write; for who would write to men
who publish the letters of their friends, without their leave[1]? Yet I
write to you in spite of my caution, to tell you that I shall be glad to
see you, and that I wish you would empty your head of Corsica, which I
think has filled it rather too long. But, at all events, I shall be
glad, very glad to see you.
'I am, Sir,
'Yours affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Oxford, March 23, 1768.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 3]
I answered thus:
'TO MR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
'London, 26th April, 1768[1].
'MY DEAR SIR,
[Footnote 1: Under the same date, Boswell thus begins a letter to
Temple:--'Your moral lecture came to me yesterday in very good time,
while I lay suffering severely for immorality. If there is any firmness
at all in me, be assured that I shall never again behave in a manner so
unworthy the friend of Paoli. My warm imagination looks forward with
great complacency on the sobriety, the healthfulness, and the worth of
my future life.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 147]
'I have received your last letter, which, though very short, and by no
means complimentary, yet gave me real pleasure, because it contains
these words, "I shall be glad, very glad to see you." Surely you have no
reason to complain of my publishing a single paragraph of one of your
letters; the temptation to it was so strong. An irrevocable grant of
your friendship, and your dignifying my desire of visiting Corsica with
the epithet of "a wise and noble curiosity," are to me more valuable
than many of the grants of kings.
'But how can you bid me "empty my head of Corsica[1]?" My noble-minded
friend, do you not feel for an oppressed nation bravely struggling to be
free? Consider fairly what is the case. The Corsicans never received any
kindness from the Genoese[2]. They never agreed to be subject to them.
They owe them nothing; and when reduced to an abject state of slavery,
by force, shall they not rise in the great cause of liberty, and break
the galling yoke? And shall not every liberal soul be warm for them?
Empty my head of Corsica! Empty it of honour, empty it of humanity,
empty it of friendship, empty it of piety. No! while I live, Corsica and
the cause of the brave islanders shall ever employ much of my attention,
shall ever interest me in the sincerest manner.
'I am, &c.
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
[Footnote 1: Johnson so early as Aug. 21, 1766, had given him the same
advice (_ante_, ii. 22). How little Boswell followed it is shewn by his
letter to the Earl of Chatham, on April 8, 1767, in which he informed
him of his intention to publish his _Corsica_, and concluded:--'Could
your Lordship find time to honour me now and then with a letter? I have
been told how favourably your Lordship has spoken of me. To correspond
with a Paoli and with a Chatham is enough to keep a young man ever
ardent in the pursuit of virtuous fame.' _Chatham Corres_., iii. 246. On
the same day on which he wrote to Johnson, he said in a letter to
Temple, 'Old General Oglethorpe, who has come to see me, and is with me
often, just on account of my book, bids me not marry till I have first
put the Corsicans in a proper situation. "You may make a fortune in the
doing of it," said he; "or, if you do not, you will have acquired such a
character as will entitle you to any fortune."' _Letters of Boswell_, p.
148. Four months later, Boswell wrote:--'By a private subscription in
Scotland, I am sending this week L700 worth of ordnance [to Corsica] ...
It is really a tolerable train of artillery.' _Ib_ p. 156. In 1769 he
brought out a small volume entitled _British Essays in favour of the
Brave Corsicans. By Several Hands_. Collected and published by James
Boswell, Esq.]
[Footnote 2: From about the beginning of the fourteenth century, Corsica
had belonged to the Republic of Genoa. In the great rising under Paoli,
the Corsicans would have achieved their independence, had not Genoa
ceded the island to the crown of France.]
Upon his arrival in London in May, he surprized me one morning with a
visit at my lodgings in Half-Moon-street[1], was quite satisfied with my
explanation, and was in the kindest and most agreeable frame of mind. As
he had objected to a part of one of his letters being published, I
thought it right to take this opportunity of asking him explicitly
whether it would be improper to publish his letters after his death. His
answer was, 'Nay, Sir, when I am dead, you may do as you will[2].'
[Footnote 1: Boswell, writing to Temple on May 14 of this year,
says:--'I am really the _great man_ now. I have had David Hume in the
forenoon, and Mr. Johnson in the afternoon of the same day, visiting me.
Sir J. Pringle and Dr. Franklin dined with me to-day; and Mr. Johnson
and General Oglethorpe one day, Mr. Garrick alone another, and David
Hume and some more _literati_ another, dine with me next week. I give
admirable dinners and good claret; and the moment I go abroad again,
which will be in a day or two, I set up my chariot. This is enjoying the
fruit of my labours, and appearing like the friend of Paoli.' _Letters
of Boswell_, p. 151.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, April 12, 1778, and May 8, 1781.]
He talked in his usual style with a rough contempt of popular
liberty[1]. 'They make a rout about _universal_ liberty, without
considering that all that is to be valued, or indeed can be enjoyed by
individuals, is _private_ liberty. Political liberty is good only so far
as it produces private liberty. Now, Sir, there is the liberty of the
press, which you know is a constant topick[2]. Suppose you and I and two
hundred more were restrained from printing our thoughts: what then? What
proportion would that restraint upon us bear to the private happiness of
the nation[3]?'
[Footnote 1: The talk arose no doubt from the general election that had
just been held amid all the excitement about Wilkes. Dr. Franklin
(_Memoirs_, iii. 307), in a letter dated April 16, 1768, describes the
riots in London. He had seen 'the mob requiring gentlemen and ladies of
all ranks as they passed in their carriages, to shout for Wilkes and
liberty, marking the same words on all their coaches with chalk, and No.
45 on every door. I went last week to Winchester, and observed that for
fifteen miles out of town there was scarce a door or window shutter next
the road unmarked; and this continued here and there quite to
Winchester.']
[Footnote 2: In his _Vindication of the Licensers of the Stage_, he thus
writes:--'If I might presume to advise them [the Ministers] upon this
great affair, I should dissuade them from any direct attempt upon the
liberty of the press, which is the darling of the common people, and
therefore cannot be attacked without immediate danger.' _Works_, v. 344.
On p. 191 of the same volume, he shows some of the benefits that arise
in England from 'the boundless liberty with which every man may write
his own thoughts.' See also in his _Life of Milton_, the passage about
_Areopagitica_, _Ib_ vii. 82. The liberty of the press was likely to be
'a constant topic.' Horace Walpole (_Memoirs of the Reign of George
III_, ii. 15), writing of the summer of 1764, says:--'Two hundred
informations were filed against printers; a larger number than had been
prosecuted in the whole thirty-three years of the last reign.']
[Footnote 3: 'The sun has risen, and the corn has grown, and, whatever
talk has been of the danger of property, yet he that ploughed the field
commonly reaped it, and he that built a house was master of the door;
the vexation excited by injustice suffered, or supposed to be suffered,
by any private man, or single community, was local and temporary; it
neither spread far nor lasted long.' Johnson's _Works_, vi. 170. See
also _post_, March 31, 1772. Dr. Franklin (_Memoirs_, iii. 215) wrote to
the Abbe Morellet, on April 22, 1787:--'Nothing can be better expressed
than your sentiments are on this point, where you prefer liberty of
trading, cultivating, manufacturing, &c., even to civil liberty, this
being affected but rarely, the other every hour.']
This mode of representing the inconveniences of restraint as light and
insignificant, was a kind of sophistry in which he delighted to indulge
himself, in opposition to the extreme laxity for which it has been
fashionable for too many to argue, when it is evident, upon reflection,
that the very essence of government is restraint; and certain it is,
that as government produces rational happiness, too much restraint is
better than too little. But when restraint is unnecessary, and so close
as to gall those who are subject to it, the people may and ought to
remonstrate; and, if relief is not granted, to resist. Of this manly and
spirited principle, no man was more convinced than Johnson himself[1].
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 6, 1763.]
About this time Dr. Kenrick[1] attacked him, through my sides, in a
pamphlet, entitled _An Epistle to James Boswell, Esq., occasioned by his
having transmitted the moral Writings of Dr. Samuel Johnson to Pascal
Paoli, General of the Corsicans_[2]. I was at first inclined to answer
this pamphlet; but Johnson, who knew that my doing so would only gratify
Kenrick, by keeping alive what would soon die away of itself, would not
suffer me to take any notice of it[3].
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, Oct. 1765.]
[Footnote 2: 'I was diverted with Paoli's English library. It consisted
of:--Some broken volumes of the _Spectatour_ and _Tatler_; Pope's _Essay
on Man_; _Gulliver's Travels_; A _History of France_ in old English; and
Barclay's _Apology for the Quakers_. I promised to send him some English
books... I have sent him some of our best books of morality and
entertainment, in particular the works of Mr. Samuel Johnson.' Boswell's
_Corsica_, p. 169.]
[Footnote 3: Johnson, as Boswell believed, only once 'in the whole
course of his life condescended to oppose anything that was written
against him.' (See _ante_, i. 314.) In this he followed the rule of
Bentley and of Boerhaave. 'It was said to old Bentley, upon the attacks
against him, "why, they'll write you down." "No, Sir," he replied;
"depend upon it, no man was ever written down but by himself."'
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 1 1773. Bentley shewed prudence in his
silence. 'He was right,' Johnson said, 'not to answer; for, in his
hazardous method of writing, he could not but be often enough wrong.'
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 10, 1773. 'Boerhaave was never soured by
calumny and detraction, nor ever thought it necessary to confute them;
"for they are sparks," said he, "which, if you do not blow them, will go
out of themselves."' Johnson's _Works_, vi. 288. Swift, in his _Lines on
Censure_ which begin,--
'Ye wise instruct me to endure
An evil which admits no cure.'
ends by saying:--
'The most effectual way to baulk
Their malice is--to let them talk.'
Swift's _Works_, xi. 58.
Young, in his _Second Epistle to Pope_, had written:--
'Armed with this truth all critics I defy;
For if I fall, by my own pen I die.'
Hume, in his _Auto._ (p. ix.) says:--'I had a fixed resolution, which I
inflexibly maintained, never to reply to any body.' This is not quite
true. See J. H. Burton's _Life of Hume_, ii. 252, for an instance of a
violent reply. The following passages in Johnson's writings are to the
same effect:--'I am inclined to believe that few attacks either of
ridicule or invective make much noise, but by the help of those that
they provoke.' _Piozzi Letters_ ii. 289. 'It is very rarely that an
author is hurt by his critics. The blaze of reputation cannot be blown
out, but it often dies in the socket.' _Ib_ p. 110. 'The writer who
thinks his works formed for duration mistakes his interest when he
mentions his enemies. He degrades his own dignity by shewing that he was
affected by their censures, and gives lasting importance to names,
which, left to themselves would vanish from remembrance.' Johnson's
_Works_, vii. 294. 'If it had been possible for those who were attacked
to conceal their pain and their resentment, the _Dunciad_ might have
made its way very slowly in the world.' _Ib_ viii. 276. Hawkins (_Life
of Johnson_, p. 348) says that, 'against personal abuse Johnson was ever
armed by a reflection that I have heard him utter:--"Alas! reputation
would be of little worth, were it in the power of every concealed enemy
to deprive us of it."' In his _Parl. Debates_ (_Works_, x. 359), Johnson
makes Mr. Lyttelton say:--'No man can fall into contempt but those who
deserve it.' Addison in _The Freeholder_, No. 40, says, that 'there is
not a more melancholy object in the learned world than a man who has
written himself down.' See also Boswell's _Hebrides_, near the end.]
His sincere regard for Francis Barber, his faithful negro servant, made
him so desirous of his further improvement, that he now placed him at a
school at Bishop Stortford, in Hertfordshire. This humane attention does
Johnson's heart much honour. Out of many letters which Mr. Barber
received from his master, he has preserved three, which he kindly gave
me, and which I shall insert according to their dates.
'To MR. FRANCIS BARBER.
'DEAR FRANCIS,
'I have been very much out of order. I am glad to hear that you are
well, and design to come soon to see you. I would have you stay at Mrs.
Clapp's for the present, till I can determine what we shall do. Be a
good boy[1].
'My compliments to Mrs. Clapp and to Mr. Fowler. I am,
'Your's affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON'.
'May 28, 1768.'
[Footnote 1: Barber had entered Johnson's service in 1752 (_ante_, i.
239). Nine years before this letter was written he had been a sailor on
board a frigate (_ante_, i. 348), so that he was somewhat old for a
boy.]
Soon afterwards, he supped at the Crown and Anchor tavern, in the
Strand, with a company whom I collected to meet him. They were Dr.
Percy, now Bishop of Dromore, Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, Mr.
Langton, Dr. Robertson the Historian[1], Dr. Hugh Blair, and Mr. Thomas
Davies, who wished much to be introduced to these eminent Scotch
_literati_; but on the present occasion he had very little opportunity
of hearing them talk, for with an excess of prudence, for which Johnson
afterwards found fault with them, they hardly opened their lips, and
that only to say something which they were certain would not expose them
to the sword of Goliath; such was their anxiety for their fame when in
the presence of Johnson[2]. He was this evening in remarkable vigour of
mind, and eager to exert himself in conversation, which he did with
great readiness and fluency; but I am sorry to find that I have
preserved but a small part of what passed.
[Footnote 1: Boswell, writing to Temple on May 14 of this year;
says:--'Dr. Robertson is come up laden with his _Charles V._--three
large quartos; he has been offered three thousand guineas for it.'
_Letters of Boswell_, p. 152.]
[Footnote 2: In like manner the professors at Aberdeen and Glasgow
seemed afraid to speak in his presence. See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug 23
and Oct 29, 1773. See also _post_, April 20, 1778.]
He allowed high praise to Thomson as a poet[1]; but when one of the
company said he was also a very good man, our moralist contested this
with great warmth, accusing him of gross sensuality and licentiousness
of manners. I was very much afraid that in writing Thomson's _Life_, Dr.
Johnson would have treated his private character with a stern severity,
but I was agreeably disappointed; and I may claim a little merit in it,
from my having been at pains to send him authentick accounts of the
affectionate and generous conduct of that poet to his sisters, one of
whom, the wife of Mr. Thomson, schoolmaster at Lanark, I knew, and was
presented by her with three of his letters, one of which Dr. Johnson has
inserted in his _Life_[2].
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 28, 1763.]
[Footnote 2: Johnson, in inserting this letter, says (Works, viii.
374):--'I communicate it with much pleasure, as it gives me at once an
opportunity of recording the fraternal kindness of Thomson, and
reflecting on the friendly assistance of Mr. Boswell, from whom I
received it.' See _post_, July 9, 1777, and June 18, 1778.]
He was vehement against old Dr. Mounsey, of Chelsea College[1], as 'a
fellow who swore and talked bawdy.' 'I have been often in his company,
(said Dr. Percy,) and never heard him swear or talk bawdy.' Mr. Davies,
who sat next to Dr. Percy, having after this had some conversation aside
with him, made a discovery which, in his zeal to pay court to Dr.
Johnson, he eagerly proclaimed aloud from the foot of the table: 'O,
Sir, I have found out a very good reason why Dr. Percy never heard
Mounsey swear or talk bawdy; for he tells me, he never saw him but at
the Duke of Northumberland's table.' 'And so, Sir, (said Johnson loudly,
to Dr. Percy,) you would shield this man from the charge of swearing and
talking bawdy, because he did not do so at the Duke of Northumberland's
table. Sir, you might as well tell us that you had seen him hold up his
hand at the Old Bailey, and he neither swore nor talked bawdy; or that
you had seen him in the cart at Tyburn, and he neither swore nor talked
bawdy. And is it thus, Sir, that you presume to controvert what I have
related?' Dr. Johnson's animadversion was uttered in such a manner, that
Dr. Percy seemed to be displeased, and soon afterwards left the company,
of which Johnson did not at that time take any notice.
[Footnote 1: Murphy, in his _Life of Garrick_, p. 183, says that Garrick
once brought Dr. Munsey--so he writes the name--to call on him. 'Garrick
entered the dining-room, and turning suddenly round, ran to the door,
and called out, "Dr. Munsey, where are you going?" "Up stairs to see the
author," said Munsey. "Pho! pho! come down, the author is here." Dr.
Munsey came, and, as he entered the room, said in his free way, "You
scoundrel! I was going up to the garret. Who could think of finding an
author on the first floor?"' Mrs. Montagu wrote to Lord Lyttelton from
Tunbridge in 1760:--'The great Monsey (_sic_) came hither on Friday ...
He is great in the coffee-house, great in the rooms, and great on the
pantiles.' _Montagu Letters_, iv. 291. In Rogers's _Table-Talk_, p. 271,
there is a curious account of him.]
Swift having been mentioned, Johnson, as usual, treated him with little
respect as an authour[1]. Some of us endeavoured to support the Dean of
St. Patrick's by various arguments. One in particular praised his
_Conduct of the Allies_. JOHNSON. 'Sir, his _Conduct of the Allies_ is a
performance of very little ability.' 'Surely, Sir, (said Dr. Douglas,)
you must allow it has strong facts[2].' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir; but what
is that to the merit of the composition? In the Sessions-paper of the
Old Bailey there are strong facts. Housebreaking is a strong fact;
robbery is a strong fact; and murder is a _mighty_ strong fact; but is
great praise due to the historian of those strong facts? No, Sir. Swift
has told what he had to tell distinctly enough, but that is all. He had
to count ten, and he has counted it right[3].' Then recollecting that
Mr. Davies, by acting as an _informer_, had been the occasion of his
talking somewhat too harshly to his friend[4] Dr. Percy, for which,
probably, when the first ebullition was over, he felt some compunction,
he took an opportunity to give him a hit; so added, with a preparatory
laugh, 'Why, Sir, Tom Davies might have written _The Conduct of the
Allies_.' Poor Tom being thus suddenly dragged into ludicrous notice in
presence of the Scottish Doctors, to whom he was ambitious of appearing
to advantage, was grievously mortified. Nor did his punishment rest
here; for upon subsequent occasions, whenever he, 'statesman all
over[5],' assumed a strutting importance, I used to hail him--'the
Authour of _The Conduct of the Allies_.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 26, 1763.]
[Footnote 2: My respectable friend, upon reading this passage, observed,
that he probably must have said not simply, 'strong facts,' but 'strong
facts well arranged.' His lordship, however, knows too well the value of
written documents to insist on setting his recollection against my notes
taken at the time. He does not attempt to _traverse_ the record. The
fact, perhaps, may have been, either that the additional words escaped
me in the noise of a numerous company, or that Dr. Johnson, from his
impetuosity, and eagerness to seize an opportunity to make a lively
retort, did not allow Dr. Douglas to finish his sentence. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 3: 'It is boasted that between November [1712] and January,
eleven thousand [of _The Conduct of the Allies_] were sold.... Yet
surely whoever surveys this wonder-working pamphlet with cool perusal,
will confess that it's efficacy was supplied by the passions of its
readers; that it operates by the mere weight of facts, with very little
assistance from the hand that produced them.' Johnson's _Works_, viii.
203.]
[Footnote 4: 'Every great man, of whatever kind be his greatness, has
among his friends those who officiously or insidiously quicken his
attention to offences, heighten his disgust, and stimulate his
resentment.' _Ib_ viii 266.]
[Footnote 5: See the hard drawing of him in Churchill's _Rosciad_.
BOSWELL. See _ante_, i. 391, note 2.]
When I called upon Dr. Johnson next morning, I found him highly
satisfied with his colloquial prowess the preceding evening. 'Well,
(said he,) we had good talk[1].' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir; you tossed and
gored several persons[2].'
[Footnote 1: For _talk_, see _post_, under March 30 1783.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, Oct. 6, 1769, and May 8, 1778, where Johnson
tosses Boswell.]
The late Alexander, Earl of Eglintoune[1], who loved wit more than wine,
and men of genius more than sycophants, had a great admiration of
Johnson; but from the remarkable elegance of his own manners, was,
perhaps, too delicately sensible of the roughness which sometimes
appeared in Johnson's behaviour. One evening about this time, when his
Lordship did me the honour to sup at my lodgings with Dr. Robertson and
several other men of literary distinction, he regretted that Johnson had
not been educated with more refinement, and lived more in polished
society. 'No, no, my Lord, (said Signor Baretti,) do with him what you
would, he would always have been a bear.' 'True, (answered the Earl,
with a smile,) but he would have been a _dancing_ bear.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, Sept. 22, 1777, and Boswell's _Hebrides_, Nov.
i, 1773.]
To obviate all the reflections which have gone round the world to
Johnson's prejudice, by applying to him the epithet of a _bear_[1], let
me impress upon my readers a just and happy saying of my friend
Goldsmith, who knew him well: 'Johnson, to be sure, has a roughness in
his manner; but no man alive has a more tender heart. _He has nothing of
the bear but his skin_.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, Nov. 27, 1773, note, April 7, 1775, and under
May 8, 1781.]
1769: AETAT. 60.--In 1769, so far as I can discover, the publick was
favoured with nothing of Johnson's composition, either for himself or
any of his friends[1]. His _Meditations_[2] too strongly prove that he
suffered much both in body and mind; yet was he perpetually striving
against _evil_, and nobly endeavouring to advance his intellectual and
devotional improvement. Every generous and grateful heart must feel for
the distresses of so eminent a benefactor to mankind; and now that his
unhappiness is certainly known, must respect that dignity of character
which prevented him from complaining.
[Footnote 1: He wrote the character of Mr. Mudge. See _post_, under
March 20, 1781.]
[Footnote 2: 'Sept. 18, 1769. This day completes the sixtieth year of my
age.... The last year has been wholly spent in a slow progress of
recovery.' _Pr. and Med._ p. 85.]
His Majesty having the preceding year instituted the Royal Academy of
Arts in London, Johnson had now the honour of being appointed Professor
in Ancient Literature[1]. In the course of the year he wrote some
letters to Mrs. Thrale, passed some part of the summer at Oxford and at
Lichfield, and when at Oxford wrote the following letter:
[Footnote 1: In which place he has been succeeded by Bennet Langton,
Esq. When that truly religious gentleman was elected to this honorary
Professorship, at the same time that Edward Gibbon, Esq., noted for
introducing a kind of sneering infidelity into his Historical Writings,
was elected Professor in Ancient History, in the room of Dr. Goldsmith,
I observed that it brought to my mind, 'Wicked Will Whiston and good Mr.
Ditton.' I am now also of that admirable institution as Secretary for
Foreign Correspondence, by the favour of the Academicians, and the
approbation of the Sovereign. BOSWELL. Goldsmith, writing to his brother
in Jan., 1770, said:--'The King has lately been pleased to make me
Professor of Ancient History in a Royal Academy of Painting, which he
has just established, but there is no salary annexed, and I took it
rather as a compliment to the institution than any benefit to myself.
Honours to one in my situation are something like ruffles to one that
wants a shirt.' Prior's _Goldsmith_, ii. 221. 'Wicked Will Whiston,'
&c., comes from Swift's _Ode for Music, On the Longitude_ (Swift's
_Works_, ed. 1803, xxiv. 39), which begins,--
'The longitude miss'd on
By wicked Will Whiston;
And not better hit on
By good Master Ditton.'
It goes on so grossly and so offensively as regards one and the other,
that Boswell's comparison was a great insult to Langton as well as to
Gibbon.]
'To THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
'DEAR SIR,
'Many years ago, when I used to read in the library of your College, I
promised to recompence the College for that permission, by adding to
their books a Baskerville's _Virgil_. I have now sent it, and desire you
to reposit it on the shelves in my name[1].
[Footnote 1: It has this inscription in a blank leaf:--'_Hunc librum
D.D. Samuel Johnson, eo quod hic loci studiis interdum vacaret_.' Of
this library, which is an old Gothick room, he was very fond. On my
observing to him that some of the _modern_ libraries of the University
were more commodious and pleasant for study, as being more spacious and
airy, he replied, 'Sir, if a man has a mind to _prance_, he must study
at Christ-Church and All-Souls.' BOSWELL.]
'If you will be pleased to let me know when you have an hour of leisure,
I will drink tea with you. I am engaged for the afternoon, to-morrow and
on Friday: all my mornings are my own[1].
'I am, &c.,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 31, 1769.'
[Footnote 1: During this visit he seldom or never dined out. He appeared
to be deeply engaged in some literary work. Miss Williams was now with
him at Oxford. BOSWELL. It was more likely the state of his health which
kept him at home. Writing from Oxford on June 27 of this year to Mrs.
Thrale, who had been ill, he says:--'I will not increase your uneasiness
with mine. I hope I grow better. I am very cautious and very timorous.'
_Piozzi Letters_, i. 21.]
I came to London in the autumn, and having informed him that I was going
to be married in a few months, I wished to have as much of his
conversation as I could before engaging in a state of life which would
probably keep me more in Scotland, and prevent me seeing him so often as
when I was a single man; but I found he was at Brighthelmstone with Mr.
and Mrs. Thrale. I was very sorry that I had not his company with me at
the Jubilee, in honour of Shakspeare, at Stratford-upon-Avon, the great
poet's native town[1]. Johnson's connection both with Shakspeare and
Garrick founded a double claim to his presence; and it would have been
highly gratifying to Mr. Garrick. Upon this occasion I particularly
lamented that he had not that warmth of friendship for his brilliant
pupil, which we may suppose would have had a benignant effect on
both[2]. When almost every man of eminence in the literary world was
happy to partake in this festival of genius, the absence of Johnson
could not but be wondered at and regretted. The only trace of him there,
was in the whimsical advertisement of a haberdasher, who sold
_Shakspearian ribbands_ of various dyes; and, by way of illustrating
their appropriation to the bard, introduced a line from the celebrated
Prologue[3] at the opening of Drury-lane theatre:
'Each change of many-colour'd life he drew.'
[Footnote 1: Boswell wrote a letter, signed with his own name, to the
_London Magazine_ for 1769 (p. 451) describing the Jubilee. It is
followed by a print of himself 'in the dress of an armed Corsican
chief,' and by an account, no doubt written by himself. It says:--'Of
the most remarkable masks upon this occasion was James Boswell, Esq., in
the dress of an armed Corsican chief. He entered the amphitheatre about
twelve o'clock. On the front of his cap was embroidered in gold letters,
_Viva La Liberta_; and on one side of it was a handsome blue feather and
cockade, so that it had an elegant, as well as a warlike appearance. He
wore no mask, saying that it was not proper for a gallant Corsican. So
soon as he came into the room he drew universal attention.' Cradock
(_Memoirs_, i. 217) gives a melancholy account of the festival. The
preparations were all behind-hand and the weather was stormy. 'There was
a masquerade in the evening, and all zealous friends endeavoured to keep
up the spirit of it as long as they could, till they were at last
informed that the Avon was rising so very fast that no delay could be
admitted. The ladies of our party were conveyed by planks from the
building to the coach, and found that the wheels had been two feet deep
in water.' Garrick in 1771 was asked by the Stratford committee to join
them in celebrating a Jubilee every year, as 'the most likely method to
promote the interest and reputation of their town.' Boswell caught at
the proposal eagerly, and writing to Garrick said:--'I please myself
with the prospect of attending you at several more Jubilees at
Stratford-upon-Avon.' _Garrick Corres_. i. 414, 435.]
[Footnote 2: Garrick's correspondents not seldom spoke disrespectfully
of Johnson. Thus, Mr. Sharp, writing to him in 1769, talks of 'risking
the sneer of one of Dr. Johnson's ghastly smiles.' _Ib_ i. 334. Dr. J.
Hoadly, in a letter dated July 25, 1775, says:--'Mr. Good-enough has
written a kind of parody of Puffy Pensioner's _Taxation no Tyranny_,
under the noble title of _Resistance no Rebellion_.' _Ib_ ii. 68.]
[Footnote 3: See ante, i. 181.]
From Brighthelmstone Dr. Johnson wrote me the following letter, which
they who may think that I ought to have suppressed, must have less
ardent feelings than I have always avowed[1].
[Footnote 1: In the Preface to my _Account of Corsica_, published in
1768, I thus express myself:
'He who publishes a book affecting not to be an authour, and professing
an indifference for literary fame, may possibly impose upon many people
such an idea of his consequence as he wishes may be received. For my
part, I should be proud to be known as an authour, and I have an ardent
ambition for literary fame; for, of all possessions, I should imagine
literary fame to be the most valuable. A man who has been able to
furnish a book, which has been approved by the world, has established
himself as a respectable character in distant society, without any
danger of having that character lessened by the observation of his
weaknesses. To preserve an uniform dignity among those who see us every
day, is hardly possible; and to aim at it, must put us under the fetters
of perpetual restraint. The authour of an approved book may allow his
natural disposition an easy play, and yet indulge the pride of superior
genius, when he considers that by those who know him only as an authour,
he never ceases to be respected. Such an authour, when in his hours of
gloom and discontent, may have the consolation to think, that his
writings are, at that very time, giving pleasure to numbers; and such an
authour may cherish the hope of being remembered after death, which has
been a great object to the noblest minds in all ages.' BOSWELL. His
preface to the third edition thus ends:--'When I first ventured to send
this book into the world, I fairly owned an ardent desire for literary
fame. I have obtained my desire: and whatever clouds may overcast my
days, I can now walk here among the rocks and woods of my ancestors,
with an agreeable consciousness that I have done something worthy.' The
dedication of the first edition and the preface of the third are both
dated Oct. 29--one 1767, and the other 1768. Oct. 29 was his birthday.]
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'Why do you charge me with unkindness? I have omitted nothing that could
do you good, or give you pleasure, unless it be that I have forborne to
tell you my opinion of your _Account of Corsica_. I believe my opinion,
if you think well of my judgement, might have given you pleasure; but
when it is considered how much vanity is excited by praise, I am not
sure that it would have done you good. Your History is like other
histories, but your Journal is in a very high degree curious and
delightful. There is between the History and the Journal that difference
which there will always be found between notions borrowed from without,
and notions generated within. Your History was copied from books; your
Journal rose out of your own experience and observation. You express
images which operated strongly upon yourself, and you have impressed
them with great force upon your readers. I know not whether I could name
any narrative by which curiosity is better excited, or better gratified.
'I am glad that you are going to be married; and as I wish you well in
things of less importance, wish you well with proportionate ardour in
this crisis of your life. What I can contribute to your happiness, I
should be very unwilling to with-hold; for I have always loved and
valued you, and shall love you and value you still more, as you become
more regular and useful: effects which a happy marriage will hardly fail
to produce.
'I do not find that I am likely to come back very soon from this place.
I shall, perhaps, stay a fortnight longer; and a fortnight is a long
time to a lover absent from his mistress. Would a fortnight ever have an
end?
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Brighthelmstone,
Sept. 9, 1769.'
After his return to town, we met frequently, and I continued the
practice of making notes of his conversation, though not with so much
assiduity as I wish I had done. At this time, indeed, I had a sufficient
excuse for not being able to appropriate so much time to my Journal; for
General Paoli[1], after Corsica had been overpowered by the monarchy of
France, was now no longer at the head of his brave countrymen, but
having with difficulty escaped from his native island, had sought an
asylum in Great Britain; and it was my duty, as well as my pleasure, to
attend much upon him[2]. Such particulars of Johnson's conversation at
this period as I have committed to writing, I shall here introduce,
without any strict attention to methodical arrangement. Sometimes short
notes of different days shall be blended together, and sometimes a day
may seem important enough to be separately distinguished.
[Footnote 1: Paoli's father had been one of the leaders of the Corsicans
in their revolt against Genoa in 1734. Paoli himself was chosen by them
as their General-in-chief in 1755. In 1769 the island was conquered by
the French. He escaped in an English ship, and settled in England. Here
he stayed till 1789, when Mirabeau moved in the National Assembly the
recall of all the Corsican patriots. Paoli was thereupon appointed by
Louis XVI. Lieutenant-general and military commandant in Corsica. He
resisted the violence of the Convention, and was, in consequence,
summoned before it. Refusing to obey, an expedition was sent to arrest
him. Napoleon Buonaparte fought in the French army, but Paoli's party
proved the stronger. The islanders sought the aid of Great Britain, and
offered the crown of Corsica to George III. The offer was accepted, but
by an act of incredible folly, not Paoli, but Sir Gilbert Eliot, was
made Viceroy. Paoli returned to England, where he died in 1807, at the
age of eighty-two. In 1796 Corsica was abandoned by the English. By the
Revolution it ceased to be a conquered province, having been formally
declared an integral part of France. At the present day the Corsicans
are proud of being citizens of that great country; no less proud,
however, are they of Pascal Paoli, and of the gallant struggle for
independence of their forefathers.]
[Footnote 2: According to the _Ann. Reg_. (xii. 132) Paoli arrived in
London on Sept. 21. He certainly was in London on Oct. 10, for on that
day he was presented by Boswell to Johnson. Yet Wesley records in his
_Journal_ (iii. 370) on Oct. 13:--'I very narrowly missed meeting the
great Pascal Paoli. He landed in the dock [at Portsmouth] but a very few
minutes after I left the waterside. Surely He who hath been with him
from his youth up hath not sent him into England for nothing.' In the
_Public Advertiser_ for Oct. 4 there is the following entry, inserted no
doubt by Boswell:--'On Sunday last General Paoli, accompanied by James
Boswell, Esq., took an airing in Hyde Park in his coach.' Priors
_Goldsmith_, i. 450. Horace Walpole writes:--'Paoli's character had been
so advantageously exaggerated by Mr. Boswell's enthusiastic and
entertaining account of him, that the Opposition were ready to
incorporate him in the list of popular tribunes. The Court artfully
intercepted the project; and deeming patriots of all nations equally
corruptible, bestowed a pension of L1000 a year on the unheroic
fugitive.' _Memoirs of the Reign of George III_, iii. 387.]
He said, he would not have Sunday kept with rigid severity and gloom,
but with a gravity and simplicity of behaviour[1].
[Footnote 1: Johnson, writes Mrs. Piozzi (_Anec_., p. 228), ridiculed a
friend 'who, looking out on Streatham Common from our windows, lamented
the enormous wickedness of the times, because some bird-catchers were
busy there one fine Sunday morning. "While half the Christian world is
permitted," said Johnson, "to dance and sing and celebrate Sunday as a
day of festivity, how comes your puritanical spirit so offended with
frivolous and empty deviations from exactness? Whoever loads life with
unnecessary scruples, Sir," continued he, "provokes the attention of
others on his conduct, and incurs the censure of singularity, without
reaping the reward of superior virtue."' See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug.
20, 1773.]
I told him that David Hume had made a short collection of
Scotticisms[1]. 'I wonder, (said Johnson,) that _he_ should find them.'
[Footnote 1: The first edition of Hume's _History of England_ was full
of Scotticisms, many of which he corrected in subsequent editions.
MALONE. According to Mr. J. H. Burton (_Life of Hume_, ii. 79), 'He
appears to have earnestly solicited the aid of Lyttelton, Mallet, and
others, whose experience of English composition might enable them to
detect Scotticisms.' Mr. Burton gives instances of alterations made in
the second edition. He says also that 'in none of his historical or
philosophical writings does any expression used by him, unless in those
cases where a Scotticism has escaped his vigilance, betray either the
district or the county of his origin.' _Ib_ i. 9. Hume was shown in
manuscript Reid's _Inquiry into the Human Mind_. Though it was an attack
on his own philosophy, yet in reading it 'he kept,' he says, 'a watchful
eye all along over the style,' so that he might point out any
Scotticisms. _Ib_ ii. 154. Nevertheless, as Dugald Stewart says in his
_Life of Robertson_ (p. 214), 'Hume fails frequently both in purity and
grammatical correctness.' Even in his later letters I have noticed
Scotticisms.]
He would not admit the importance of the question concerning the
legality of general warrants[1]. 'Such a power' (he observed,) 'must be
vested in every government, to answer particular cases of necessity; and
there can be no just complaint but when it is abused, for which those
who administer government must be answerable. It is a matter of such
indifference, a matter about which the people care so very little, that
were a man to be sent over Britain to offer them an exemption from it at
a halfpenny a piece, very few would purchase it.' This was a specimen of
that laxity of talking, which I have heard him fairly acknowledge[2];
for, surely, while the power of granting general warrants was supposed
to be legal, and the apprehension of them hung over our heads, we did
not possess that security of freedom, congenial to our happy
constitution, and which, by the intrepid exertions of Mr. Wilkes, has
been happily established.
[Footnote 1: In 1763 Wilkes, as author of _The North Briton_, No. 45,
had been arrested on 'a general warrant directed to four messengers to
take up any persons without naming or describing them with any
certainty, and to bring them, together with their papers.' Such a
warrant as this Chief Justice Pratt (Lord Camden) declared to be
'unconstitutional, illegal, and absolutely void.' _Ann. Reg_. vi. 145.]
[Footnote 2: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 24, 1773.]
He said, 'The duration of Parliament, whether for seven years or the
life of the King, appears to me so immaterial, that I would not give
half a crown to turn the scale one way or the other[1]. The _habeas
corpus_ is the single advantage which our government has over that of
other countries.'
[Footnote 1: In the Spring of this year, at a meeting of the electors of
Southwark, 'instructions' had been presented to Mr. Thrale and his
brother-member, of which the twelfth was:--'That you promote a bill for
shortening the duration of Parliaments.' _Gent. Mag_. xxxix. 162.]
On the 30th of September we dined together at the Mitre. I attempted to
argue for the superior happiness of the savage life, upon the usual
fanciful topicks. JOHNSON. 'Sir, there can be nothing more false. The
savages have no bodily advantages beyond those of civilised men. They
have not better health; and as to care or mental uneasiness, they are
not above it, but below it, like bears. No, Sir; you are not to talk
such paradox[1]: let me have no more on't. It cannot entertain, far less
can it instruct. Lord Monboddo[2], one of your Scotch Judges, talked a
great deal of such nonsense. I suffered _him_; but I will not suffer
_you_.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, does not Rousseau talk such nonsense?'
JOHNSON. 'True, Sir, but Rousseau _knows_ he is talking nonsense, and
laughs at the world for staring at him.' BOSWELL. 'How so, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a man who talks nonsense so well, must know that he
is talking nonsense. But I am _afraid_, (chuckling and laughing,)
Monboddo does _not_ know that he is talking nonsense[3].' BOSWELL. 'Is
it wrong then, Sir, to affect singularity, in order to make people
stare?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, if you do it by propagating errour: and, indeed,
it is wrong in any way. There is in human nature a general inclination
to make people stare; and every wise man has himself to cure of it, and
does cure himself[4]. If you wish to make people stare by doing better
than others, why, make them stare till they stare their eyes out. But
consider how easy it is to make people stare by being absurd. I may do
it by going into a drawing-room without my shoes. You remember the
gentleman in _The Spectator_, who had a commission of lunacy taken out
against him for his extreme singularity, such as never wearing a wig,
but a night-cap. Now, Sir, abstractedly, the night-cap was best; but,
relatively, the advantage was overbalanced by his making the boys run
after him[5].'
[Footnote 1: This paradox Johnson had exposed twenty-nine years earlier,
in his _Life of Sir Francis Drake_, _Works_, vi. 366. In _Rasselas_,
chap. xi., he considers also the same question. Imlac is 'inclined to
conclude that, if nothing counteracts the natural consequence of
learning, we grow more happy as our minds take a wider range.' He then
enumerates the advantages which civilisation confers on the Europeans.
'They are surely happy,' said the prince, 'who have all these
conveniences.' 'The Europeans,' answered Imlac, 'are less unhappy than
we, but they are not happy. Human life is everywhere a state in which
much is to be endured and little to be enjoyed.' Writing to Mrs. Thrale
from Skye, Johnson said: 'The traveller wanders through a naked desert,
gratified sometimes, but rarely, with the sight of cows, and now and
then finds a heap of loose stones and turf in a cavity between rocks,
where a being born with all those powers which education expands, and
all those sensations which culture refines, is condemned to shelter
itself from the wind and rain. Philosophers there are who try to make
themselves believe that this life is happy, but they believe it only
while they are saying it, and never yet produced conviction in a single
mind.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 150. See _post_, April 21 and May 7, 1773,
April 26, 1776, and June 15, 1784.]
[Footnote 2: James Burnet, a Scotch Lord of Session, by the title of
Lord Monboddo. 'He was a devout believer in the virtues of the heroic
ages, and the deterioration of civilised mankind; a great contemner of
luxuries, insomuch that he never used a wheel carriage.' WALTER SCOTT,
quoted in Croker's _Boswell_, p. 227. There is some account of him in
Chambers's _Traditions of Edinburgh_, ii. 175. In his _Origin of
Language_, to which Boswell refers in his next note, after praising
Henry Stephen for his _Greek Dictionary_, he continues:--'But to compile
a dictionary of a barbarous language, such as all the modern are
compared with the learned, is a work which a man of real genius, rather
than undertake, would choose to die of hunger, the most cruel, it is
said, of all deaths. I should, however, have praised this labour of
Doctor Johnson's more, though of the meanest kind,' &c. Monboddo's
_Origin of Language_, v. 274. On p. 271, he says:--'Dr. Johnson was the
most invidious and malignant man I have ever known.' See _post_, March
21, 1772, May 8, 1773, and Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 21, 1773.]
[Footnote 3: His Lordship having frequently spoken in an abusive manner
of Dr. Johnson, in my company, I on one occasion during the life-time of
my illustrious friend could not refrain from retaliation, and repeated
to him this saying. He has since published I don't know how many pages
in one of his curious books, attempting, in much anger, but with pitiful
effect, to persuade mankind that my illustrious friend was not the great
and good man which they esteemed and ever will esteem him to be.
BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 4: Mrs. Piozzi (_Anec_. p. 108) says:--'Mr. Johnson was indeed
unjustly supposed to be a lover of singularity. Few people had a more
settled reverence for the world than he, or was less captivated by new
modes of behaviour introduced, or innovations on the long-received
customs of common life.' In writing to Dr. Taylor to urge him to take a
certain course, he says:--'This I would have you do, not in compliance
with solicitation or advice, but as a justification of yourself to the
world; _the world has always a right to be regarded_.' _Notes and
Queries_, 6th S. v. 343. In _The Adventurer_, No. 131, he has a paper on
'Singularities.' After quoting Fontenelle's observation on Newton that
'he was not distinguished from other men by any singularity, either
natural or affected,' he goes on:--'Some may be found who, supported by
the consciousness of great abilities, and elevated by a long course of
reputation and applause, voluntarily consign themselves to singularity,
affect to cross the roads of life because they know that they shall not
be jostled, and indulge a boundless gratification of will, because they
perceive that they shall be quietly obeyed.... Singularity is, I think,
in its own nature universally and invariably displeasing.' Writing of
Swift, he says (_Works_, viii. 223):--'Whatever he did, he seemed
willing to do in a manner peculiar to himself, without sufficiently
considering that singularity, as it implies a contempt of the general
practice, is a kind of defiance which justly provokes the hostility of
ridicule; he, therefore, who indulges peculiar habits is worse than
others, if he be not better.' See _ante_, Oct. 1765, the record in his
_Journal_:--'At church. To avoid all singularity.']
[Footnote 5: 'He had many other particularities, for which he gave sound
and philosophical reasons. As this humour still grew upon him he chose
to wear a turban instead of a periwig; concluding very justly that a
bandage of clean linen about his head was much more wholesome, as well
as cleanly, than the caul of a wig, which is soiled with frequent
perspirations.' _Spectator_, No. 576.]
Talking of a London life, he said, 'The happiness of London is not to be
conceived but by those who have been in it. I will venture to say, there
is more learning and science within the circumference of ten miles from
where we now sit, than in all the rest of the kingdom.' BOSWELL. 'The
only disadvantage is the great distance at which people live from one
another.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but that is occasioned by the largeness of
it, which is the cause of all the other advantages.' BOSWELL. 'Sometimes
I have been in the humour of wishing to retire to a desart.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, you have desart enough in Scotland.'
Although I had promised myself a great deal of instructive conversation
with him on the conduct of the married state, of which I had then a near
prospect, he did not say much upon that topick. Mr. Seward[1] heard him
once say, that 'a man has a very bad chance for happiness in that state,
unless he marries a woman of very strong and fixed principles of
religion.' He maintained to me, contrary to the common notion, that a
woman would not be the worse wife for being learned[2]; in which, from
all that I have observed of Artemisias[3], I humbly differed from him.
That a woman should be sensible and well informed, I allow to be a great
advantage; and think that Sir Thomas Overbury[4], in his rude
versification, has very judiciously pointed out that degree of
intelligence which is to be desired in a female companion:
'Give me, next _good_, an _understanding wife_,
By Nature _wise_, not _learned_ by much art;
Some _knowledge_ on her side will all my life
More scope of conversation impart;
Besides, her inborne virtue fortifie;
They are most firmly good, who[5] best know why.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, June 28, 1777, note.]
[Footnote 2: 'Depend upon it,' he said, 'no woman is the worse for sense
and knowledge.' Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 19; 1773--See, however,
_post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's Collection, where he says:--'Supposing a
wife to be of a studious or argumentative turn, it would be very
troublesome']
[Footnote 3:
'Though Artemisia talks by fits
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in some things, methinks she fails;
'Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.'
SWIFT. _Imitation of English Poets, Works_, xxiv. 6.]
[Footnote 4: _A Wife_, a poem, 1614. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 5: In the original _that_.]
When I censured a gentleman of my acquaintance for marrying a second
time, as it shewed a disregard of his first wife, he said, 'Not at all,
Sir. On the contrary, were he not to marry again, it might be concluded
that his first wife had given him a disgust to marriage; but by taking a
second wife he pays the highest compliment to the first, by shewing that
she made him so happy as a married man, that he wishes to be so a second
time[1].'
[Footnote 1: What a succession of compliments was paid by Johnson's old
school-fellow, whom he met a year or two later in Lichfield, who 'has
had, as he phrased it, _a matter of four wives_, for which' added
Johnson to Mrs. Thrale, 'neither you nor I like him much the better.'
_Piozzi Letters_, i. 41.]
So ingenious a turn did he give to this delicate question. And yet, on
another occasion, he owned that he once had almost asked a promise of
Mrs. Johnson that she would not marry again, but had checked himself.
Indeed, I cannot help thinking, that in his case the request would have
been unreasonable; for if Mrs. Johnson forgot, or thought it no injury
to the memory of her first love,--the husband of her youth and the
father of her children,--to make a second marriage, why should she be
precluded from a third, should she be so inclined? In Johnson's
persevering fond appropriation of his _Tetty_, even after her decease,
he seems totally to have overlooked the prior claim of the honest
Birmingham trader. I presume that her having been married before had, at
times, given him some uneasiness; for I remember his observing upon the
marriage of one of our common friends, 'He has done a very foolish
thing, Sir; he has married a widow, when he might have had a maid[1].'
[Footnote 1: Mr. Langton married the widow of the Earl of Rothes;
_post_, March 20, 1771.]
We drank tea with Mrs. Williams. I had last year the pleasure of seeing
Mrs. Thrale at Dr. Johnson's one morning, and had conversation enough
with her to admire her talents, and to shew her that I was as Johnsonian
as herself. Dr. Johnson had probably been kind enough to speak well of
me, for this evening he delivered me a very polite card from Mr. Thrale
and her, inviting me to Streatham.
On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging invitation, and
found, at an elegant villa, six miles from town, every circumstance that
can make society pleasing. Johnson, though quite at home, was yet looked
up to with an awe, tempered by affection, and seemed to be equally the
care of his host and hostess. I rejoiced at seeing him so happy.
He played off his wit against Scotland with a good humoured pleasantry,
which gave me, though no bigot to national prejudices, an opportunity
for a little contest with him. I having said that England was obliged to
us for gardeners, almost all their good gardeners being Scotchmen.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, that is because gardening is much more necessary
amongst you than with us, which makes so many of your people learn it.
It is _all_ gardening with you. Things which grow wild here, must be
cultivated with great care in Scotland. Pray now (throwing himself back
in his chair, and laughing,) are you ever able to bring the _sloe_ to
perfection?'
I boasted that we had the honour of being the first to abolish the
unhospitable, troublesome, and ungracious custom of giving vails to
servants[1]. JOHNSON. 'Sir, you abolished vails, because you were too
poor to be able to give them.'
[Footnote 1: Horace Walpole, writing of 1764, says:--'As one of my
objects was to raise the popularity of our party, I had inserted a
paragraph in the newspapers observing that the abolition of vails to
servants had been set on foot by the Duke of Bedford, and had been
opposed by the Duke of Devonshire. Soon after a riot happened at
Ranelagh, in which the footmen mobbed and ill-treated some gentlemen who
had been active in that reformation.' _Memoirs of the Reign of George
III_, ii. 3.]
Mrs. Thrale disputed with him on the merit of Prior. He attacked him
powerfully; said he wrote of love like a man who had never felt it: his
love verses were college verses; and he repeated the song 'Alexis
shunn'd his fellow swains[1],' &c., in so ludicrous a manner, as to make
us all wonder how any one could have been pleased with such fantastical
stuff. Mrs. Thrale stood to her gun with great courage, in defence of
amorous ditties, which Johnson despised, till he at last silenced her by
saying, 'My dear Lady, talk no more of this. Nonsense can be defended
but by nonsense[2].'
[Footnote 1:
'Alexis shunned his fellow swains,
Their rural sports and jocund strains,
(Heaven guard us all from Cupid's bow!)
He lost his crook, he left his flocks;
And wandering through the lonely rocks,
He nourished endless woe.'
_The Despairing Shepherd_.]
[Footnote 2: 'In his amorous effusions Prior is less happy; for they are
not dictated by nature or by passion, and have neither gallantry nor
tenderness. They have the coldness of Cowley without his wit, the dull
exercises of a skilful versifier, resolved at all adventures to write
something about Chloe, and trying to be amorous by dint of study.... In
his private relaxation he revived the tavern, and in his amorous
pedantry he exhibited the college.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 15, 22.]
Mrs. Thrale then praised Garrick's talent for light gay poetry; and, as
a specimen, repeated his song in _Florizel and Perdita_, and dwelt with
peculiar pleasure on this line:
'I'd smile with the simple, and feed with the poor[1].'
JOHNSON. 'Nay, my dear Lady, this will never do. Poor David! Smile with
the simple;--What folly is that? And who would feed with the poor that
can help it? No, no; let me smile with the wise, and feed with the
rich.' I repeated this sally to Garrick, and wondered to find his
sensibility as a writer not a little irritated by it. To sooth him, I
observed, that Johnson spared none of us; and I quoted the passage in
Horace[2], in which he compares one who attacks his friends for the sake
of a laugh, to a pushing ox[3], that is marked by a bunch of hay put
upon his horns: '_faenum habet in cornu_.' 'Ay, (said Garrick
vehemently,) he has a whole _mow_ of it.'
[Footnote 1: _Florizel and Perdita_ is Garrick's version of _The Winters
Tale_. He cut down the five acts to three. The line, which is misquoted,
is in one of Perdita's songs:--
'That giant ambition we never can dread;
Our roofs are too low for so lofty a head;
Content and sweet cheerfulness open our door,
They smile with the simple, and feed with the poor.'
Act ii. sc. 1.]
[Footnote 2: Horace. _Sat_. i. 4. 34.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, ii. 66.]
Talking of history, Johnson said, 'We may know historical facts to be
true, as we may know facts in common life to be true. Motives are
generally unknown. We cannot trust to the characters we find in history,
unless when they are drawn by those who knew the persons; as those, for
instance, by Sallust and by Lord Clarendon[1].'
[Footnote 1: Horace Walpole told Malone that 'he was about twenty-two
[twenty-four] years old when his father retired; and that he remembered
his offering one day to read to him, finding that time hung heavy on his
hands. "What," said he, "will you read, child?" Mr. Walpole, considering
that his father had long been engaged in public business, proposed to
read some history. "No," said he, "don't read history to me; that can't
be true."' Prior's _Malone_, p. 387. See also _post_, April 30, 1773,
and Oct. 10, 1779.]
He would not allow much merit to Whitefield's oratory. 'His popularity,
Sir (said he,) is chiefly owing to the peculiarity of his manner. He
would be followed by crowds were he to wear a night-cap in the pulpit,
or were he to preach from a tree[1].' I know not from what spirit of
contradiction he burst out into a violent declamation against the
Corsicans, of whose heroism I talked in high terms. 'Sir (said he,) what
is all this rout about the Corsicans? They have been at war with the
Genoese for upwards of twenty years, and have never yet taken their
fortified towns. They might have battered down their walls, and reduced
them to powder in twenty years. They might have pulled the walls in
pieces, and cracked the stones with their teeth in twenty years.' It was
in vain to argue with him upon the want of artillery: he was not to be
resisted for the moment.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i 75, _post_, Oct 12, 1779, and Boswell's
_Hebrides_, August 15, 1773. Boswell himself had met Whitefield; for
mentioning him in his _Letter to the People of Scotland_ (p. 25), he
adds:--'Of whose pious and animated society I had some share.' Southey
thus describes Whitefield in his _Life of Wesley_ (i. 126):--'His voice
excelled both in melody and compass, and its fine modulations were
happily accompanied by that grace of action which he possessed in an
eminent degree, and which has been said to be the chief requisite of an
orator. An ignorant man described his eloquence oddly but strikingly,
when he said that Mr. Whitefield preached like a lion. So strange a
comparison conveyed no unapt a notion of the force and vehemence and
passion of that oratory which awed the hearers, and made them tremble
like Felix before the apostle.' Benjamin Franklin writes (_Memoirs_, i.
163):--'Mr. Whitefield's eloquence had a wonderful power over the hearts
and purses of his hearers, of which I myself was an instance.' He
happened to be present at a sermon which, he perceived, was to finish
with a collection for an object which had not his approbation. 'I
silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a
handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles
in gold. As he proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the
copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and
determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably that I
emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all.']
On the evening of October 10, I presented Dr. Johnson to General Paoli.
I had greatly wished that two men, for whom I had the highest esteem,
should meet[1]. They met with a manly ease, mutually conscious of their
own abilities, and of the abilities of each other. The General spoke
Italian, and Dr. Johnson English, and understood one another very well,
with a little aid of interpretation from me, in which I compared myself
to an isthmus which joins two great continents. Upon Johnson's approach,
the General said, 'From what I have read of your works, Sir, and from
what Mr. Boswell has told me of you, I have long held you in great
veneration.' The General talked of languages being formed on the
particular notions and manners of a people, without knowing which, we
cannot know the language. We may know the direct signification of single
words; but by these no beauty of expression, no sally of genius, no wit
is conveyed to the mind. All this must be by allusion to other ideas.
'Sir, (said Johnson,) you talk of language, as if you had never done any
thing else but study it, instead of governing a nation.' The General
said, '_Questo e un troppo gran complimento_;' this is too great a
compliment. Johnson answered. 'I should have thought so, Sir, if I had
not heard you talk.' The General asked him, what he thought of the
spirit of infidelity which was so prevalent[2]. JOHNSON. 'Sir, this
gloom of infidelity, I hope, is only a transient cloud passing through
the hemisphere[3], which will soon be dissipated, and the sun break
forth with his usual splendour.' 'You think then, (said the General,)
that they will change their principles like their clothes.'
[Footnote 1: 'What an idea may we not form of an interview between such
a scholar and philosopher as Mr. Johnson, and such a legislatour and
general as Paoli.' Boswell's _Corsica_, p. 198.]
[Footnote 2: Mr. Stewart, who in 1768 was sent on a secret mission to
Paoli, in his interesting report says:--'Religion seems to sit easy upon
Paoli, and notwithstanding what his historian Boswell relates, I take
him to be very free in his notions that way. This I suspect both from
the strain of his conversation, and from what I have learnt of his
conduct towards the clergy and monks.' Fitzmaurice's _Shelburne_, ii.
158. See _post_, April 14, 1775, where Johnson said:--'Sir, there is a
great cry about infidelity; but there are in reality very few infidels.'
Yet not long before he had complained of an 'inundation of impiety.'
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 30, 1773.]
[Footnote 3: I suppose Johnson said atmosphere. CROKER. In _Humphry
Clinker_, in the Letter of June 2, there is, however, a somewhat similar
use of the word. Lord Bute is described as 'the Caledonian luminary,
that lately blazed so bright in our hemisphere; methinks, at present, it
glimmers through a fog.' A star, however, unlike a cloud, may pass from
one hemisphere to the other.]
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, if they bestow no more thought on principles than on
dress, it must be so.' The General said, that 'a great part of the
fashionable infidelity was owing to a desire of shewing courage. Men who
have no opportunities of shewing it as to things in this life, take
death and futurity as objects on which to display it.' JOHNSON. 'That is
mighty foolish affectation. Fear is one of the passions of human nature,
of which it is impossible to divest it. You remember that the Emperour
Charles V, when he read upon the tomb-stone of a Spanish nobleman, "Here
lies one who never knew fear," wittily said, "Then he never snuffed a
candle with his fingers."'
He talked a few words of French[1] to the General; but finding he did
not do it with facility, he asked for pen, ink, and paper, and wrote the
following note:--
'J'ai lu dans la geographie de Lucas de Linda un Pater-noster ecrit dans
une langue tout a-fait differente de l'Italienne, et de toutes autres
lesquelles se derivent du Latin. L'auteur l'appelle _linguam Corsicae
rusticam_; elle a peut-etre passe peu a peu; mais elle a certainement
prevalue autrefois dans les montagnes et dans la campagne. Le meme
auteur dit la meme chose en parlant de Sardaigne; qu'il y a deux langues
dans l'Isle, une des villes, l'autre de la campagne.'
The General immediately informed him that the _lingua rustica_ was only
in Sardinia.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, under Nov. 5, 1775. Hannah More, writing in
1782 (_Memoirs_, i. 242), says:--'Paoli will not talk in English, and
his French is mixed with Italian. He speaks no language with purity.']
Dr. Johnson went home with me, and drank tea till late in the night. He
said, 'General Paoli had the loftiest port of any man he had ever
seen[1].' He denied that military men were always the best bred men.
'Perfect good breeding, he observed, consists in having no particular
mark of any profession, but a general elegance of manners; whereas, in a
military man, you can commonly distinguish the _brand_ of a soldier,
_l'homme d'epee._'
[Footnote 1: Horace Walpole writes:--'Paoli had as much ease as suited a
prudence that seemed the utmost effort of a wary understanding, and was
so void of anything remarkable in his aspect, that being asked if I knew
who it was, I judged him a Scottish officer (for he was
sandy-complexioned and in regimentals), who was cautiously awaiting the
moment of promotion.' _Memoirs of the Reign of George III_, iii. 387]
Dr. Johnson shunned to-night any discussion of the perplexed question of
fate and free will, which I attempted to agitate. 'Sir, (said he,) we
_know_ our will is free, and _there's_ an end on't[1].'
[Footnote 1: Boswell introduced this subject often. See _post_, Oct. 26,
1769, April 15, 1778, March 14, 1781, and June 23, 1784. Like Milton's
fallen angels, he 'found no end, in wand'ring mazes lost.' _Paradise
Lost_, ii. 561.]
He honoured me with his company at dinner on the 16th of October, at my
lodgings in Old Bond-street, with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Garrick, Dr.
Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, Mr. Bickerstaff[1], and Mr. Thomas Davies.
Garrick played round him with a fond vivacity, taking hold of the
breasts of his coat, and, looking up in his face with a lively archness,
complimented him on the good health which he seemed then to enjoy; while
the sage, shaking his head, beheld him with a gentle complacency. One of
the company not being come at the appointed hour, I proposed, as usual
upon such occasions, to order dinner to be served; adding, 'Ought six
people to be kept waiting for one?' 'Why, yes, (answered Johnson, with a
delicate humanity,) if the one will suffer more by your sitting down,
than the six will do by waiting.' Goldsmith, to divert the tedious
minutes, strutted about, bragging of his dress, and I believe was
seriously vain of it, for his mind was wonderfully prone to such
impressions[2]. 'Come, come, (said Garrick,) talk no more of that. You
are, perhaps, the worst--eh, eh!'--Goldsmith was eagerly attempting to
interrupt him, when Garrick went on, laughing ironically, 'Nay, you will
always _look_ like a gentleman[3]; but I am talking of being well or
_ill drest_.' 'Well, let me tell you, (said Goldsmith,) when my tailor
brought home my bloom-coloured coat, he said, 'Sir, I have a favour to
beg of you. When any body asks you who made your clothes, be pleased to
mention John Filby, at the Harrow, in Water-lane.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir,
that was because he knew the strange colour would attract crowds to gaze
at it, and thus they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a
coat even of so absurd a colour[4].'
[Footnote 1: 'To this wretched being, himself by his own misconduct
lashed out of human society, the stage was indebted for several very
pure and pleasing entertainments; among them, _Love in a Village_, _The
Maid of the Mill_.' Forster's _Goldsmith_, ii. 136. 'When,' says Mrs.
Piozzi (_Anec_. p. 168), 'Mr. Bickerstaff's flight confirmed the report
of his guilt, and my husband said in answer to Johnson's astonishment,
that he had long been a suspected man: "By those who look close to the
ground dirt will be seen, Sir, (was his lofty reply); I hope I see
things from a greater distance."' In the _Garrick Corres_ (i. 473) is a
piteous letter in bad French, written from St. Malo, by Bickerstaff to
Garrick, endorsed by Garrick, 'From that poor wretch Bickerstaff: I
could not answer it.']
[Footnote 2: Boswell, only a couple of years before he published _The
Life of Johnson_, in fact while he was writing it, had written to
Temple:--'I was the _great man_ (as we used to say) at the late
Drawing-room, in a suit of imperial blue, lined with rose-coloured silk,
and ornamented with rich gold-wrought buttons.' _Letters of Boswell_, p.
289.]
[Footnote 3: Miss Reynolds, in her _Recollections_ (Croker's _Boswell_,
p. 831), says, 'One day at Sir Joshua Reynolds's Goldsmith was relating
with great indignation an insult he had just received from some
gentleman he had accidentally met. "The fellow," he said, "took me for a
tailor!" on which all the company either laughed aloud or showed they
suppressed a laugh.']
[Footnote 4: In Prior's _Goldsmith_, ii. 232, is given Filby's Bill for
a suit of clothes sent to Goldsmith this very day:--
Oct. 16.-- L s. d.
To making a half-dress
suit of ratteen, lined
with satin 12 12 0
To a pair of silk stocking
breeches 2 5 0
To a pair of _bloom-coloured
ditto 1 4 6
Nothing is said in this bill of the colour of the coat; it is the
breeches that are bloom-coloured. The tailor's name was William, not
John, Filby; _Ib_ i. 378, Goldsmith in his _Life of Nash_ had
said:--'Dress has a mechanical influence upon the mind, and we naturally
are awed into respect and esteem at the elegance of those whom even our
reason would teach us to contemn. He seemed early sensible of human
weakness in this respect; he brought a person genteelly dressed to every
assembly.' Cunningham's _Goldsmith's Works_, iv. 46.]
After dinner our conversation first turned upon Pope. Johnson said, his
characters of men were admirably drawn, those of women not so well[1].
He repeated to us, in his forcible melodious manner, the concluding
lines of the _Dunciad_[2]. While he was talking loudly in praise of
those lines, one of the company[3] ventured to say, 'Too fine for such a
poem:--a poem on what?' JOHNSON, (with a disdainful look,) 'Why, on
_dunces_. It was worth while being a dunce then. Ah, Sir, hadst _thou_
lived in those days! It is not worth while being a dunce now, when there
are no wits[4].' Bickerstaff observed, as a peculiar circumstance, that
Pope's fame was higher when he was alive than it was then[5]. Johnson
said, his Pastorals were poor things, though the versification was
fine[6]. He told us, with high satisfaction, the anecdote of Pope's
inquiring who was the authour of his _London_, and saying, he will be
soon _deterre_[7]. He observed, that in Dryden's poetry there were
passages drawn from a profundity which Pope could never reach[8]. He
repeated some fine lines on love, by the former, (which I have now
forgotten[9],) and gave great applause to the character of Zimri[10].
Goldsmith said, that Pope's character of Addison[11] shewed a deep
knowledge of the human heart. Johnson said, that the description of the
temple, in the _Mourning Bride_[12], was the finest poetical passage he
had ever read; he recollected none in Shakspeare equal to it. 'But,
(said Garrick, all alarmed for the "God of his idolatry[13],") we know
not the extent and variety of his powers.'
[Footnote 1: 'The _Characters of Men and Women_ are the product of
diligent speculation upon human life; much labour has been bestowed upon
them, and Pope very seldom laboured in vain.... The _Characters of Men_,
however, are written with more, if not with deeper thought, and exhibit
many passages exquisitely beautiful.... In the women's part are some
defects.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 341.]
[Footnote 2: Mr. Langton informed me that he once related to Johnson (on
the authority of Spence), that Pope himself admired those lines so much
that when he repeated them his voice faltered: 'and well it might, Sir,'
said Johnson, 'for they are noble lines.' J. BOSWELL, JUN.]
[Footnote 3: We have here an instance of that reserve which Boswell, in
his Dedication to Sir Joshua Reynolds (_ante_, i. 4), says that he has
practised. In one particular he had 'found the world to be a great
fool,' and, 'I have therefore,' as he writes, 'in this work been more
reserved;' yet the reserve is slight enough. Everyone guesses that 'one
of the company' was Boswell.]
[Footnote 4: Yet Johnson, in his _Life of Pope_ (_Works_, viii. 276),
seems to be much of Boswell's opinion; for in writing of _The Dunciad_,
he says:--'The subject itself had nothing generally interesting, for
whom did it concern to know that one or another scribbler was a dunce?']
[Footnote 5: The opposite of this Johnson maintained on April 29, 1778.]
[Footnote 6: 'It is surely sufficient for an author of sixteen ... to
have obtained sufficient power of language and skill in metre, to
exhibit a series of versification which had in English poetry no
precedent, nor has since had an imitation.' Johnson's _Works_, viii.
326.]
[Footnote 7: See _ante_, i. 129.]
[Footnote 8: 'If the flights of Dryden are higher, Pope continues longer
on the wing ... Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with
perpetual delight.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 325.]
[Footnote 9: Probably, says Mr. Croker, those quoted by Johnson in _The
Life of Dryden_. _Ib_ vii. 339.]
[Footnote 10: The Duke of Buckingham in Dryden's _Absalom and
Achitophel_.]
[Footnote 11: _Prologue to the Satires_, I. 193.]
[Footnote 12:
Almeria.--'It was a fancy'd noise; for all is hush'd.
Leonora.--It bore the accent of a human voice.
Almeria.--It was thy fear, or else some transient wind
Whistling thro' hollows of this vaulted aisle;
We'll listen--
Leonora.--Hark!
Almeria.--No, all is hush'd and still as death,--'Tis dreadful!
How reverend is the face of this tall pile,
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arch'd and ponderous roof,
By its own weight made stedfast and immoveable,
Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight; the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice;
Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear
Thy voice--my own affrights me with its echoes.
Act ii. sc. 1.]
[Footnote 13:
'Swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry.'
_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii. sc. 2. He was a God with whom he ventured to
take great liberties. Thus on Jan. 10, 1776, he wrote:--'I have ventured
to produce _Hamlet_ with alterations. It was the most imprudent thing I
ever did in all my life; but I had sworn I would not leave the stage
till I had rescued that noble play from all the rubbish of the fifth
act. I have brought it forth without the grave-digger's trick and the
fencing match. The alterations were received with general approbation
beyond my most warm expectations.' _Garrick Corres._, ii. 126. See
_ante_, ii. 78, note 4.]
'We are to suppose there are such passages in his works. Shakspeare must
not suffer from the badness of our memories.' Johnson, diverted by this
enthusiastick jealousy, went on with greater ardour: 'No, Sir; Congreve
has _nature_;' (smiling on the tragick eagerness of Garrick;) but
composing himself, he added, 'Sir, this is not comparing Congreve on the
whole, with Shakspeare on the whole; but only maintaining that Congreve
has one finer passage than any that can be found in Shakspeare. Sir, a
man may have no more than ten guineas in the world, but he may have
those ten guineas in one piece; and so may have a finer piece than a man
who has ten thousand pounds: but then he has only one ten-guinea piece.
What I mean is, that you can shew me no passage where there is simply a
description of material objects, without any intermixture of moral
notions, which produces such an effect[1].' Mr. Murphy mentioned
Shakspeare's description of the night before the battle of Agincourt[2];
but it was observed, it had _men_ in it. Mr. Davies suggested the speech
of Juliet, in which she figures herself awaking in the tomb of her
ancestors[3]. Some one mentioned the description of Dover Cliff[4].
JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; it should be all precipice,--all vacuum. The crows
impede your fall. The diminished appearance of the boats, and other
circumstances, are all very good description; but do not impress the
mind at once with the horrible idea of immense height. The impression is
divided; you pass on by computation, from one stage of the tremendous
space to another. Had the girl in _The Mourning Bride_ said, she could
not cast her shoe to the top of one of the pillars in the temple, it
would not have aided the idea, but weakened it.'
[Footnote 1: This comparison between Shakespeare and Congreve is
mentioned perhaps oftener than any passage in Boswell. Almost as often
as it is mentioned, it may be seen that Johnson's real opinion is
misrepresented or misunderstood. A few passages from his writings will
shew how he regarded the two men. In the _Life of Congreve_ (_Works_,
viii. 31) he repeats what he says here:--'If I were required to select
from the whole mass of English poetry the most poetical paragraph, I
know not what I could prefer to an exclamation in _The Mourning Bride_.'
Yet in writing of the same play, he says:--'In this play there is more
bustle than sentiment; the plot is busy and intricate, and the events
take hold on the attention; but, except a very few passages, we are
rather amused with noise and perplexed with stratagem, than entertained
with any true delineation of natural characters.' _Ib_, p. 26. In the
preface to his _Shakespeare_, published four years before this
conversation, he almost answered Garrick by anticipation. 'It was said
of Euripides that every verse was a precept; and it may be said of
Shakespeare, that from his works may be collected a system of civil and
economical prudence. Yet his real power is not shown in the splendour of
particular passages, but by the progress of his fable, and the tenour of
his dialogue, and he that tries to recommend him by select quotations,
will succeed like the pedant in _Hierocles_, who, when he offered his
house to sale, carried a brick in his pocket as a specimen.' _Ib_, v.
106. Ignorant, indeed, is he who thinks that Johnson was insensible to
Shakespeare's 'transcendent and unbounded genius,' to use the words that
he himself applied to him. _The Rambler_, No. 156. 'It may be doubtful,'
he writes, 'whether from all his successors more maxims of theoretical
knowledge, or more rules of practical prudence, can be collected than he
alone has given to his country.' _Works_, v. 131. 'He that has read
Shakespeare with attention will, perhaps, find little new in the crowded
world.' _Ib_, p. 434. 'Let him that is yet unacquainted with the powers
of Shakespeare, and who desires to feel the highest pleasure that the
drama can give, read every play, from the first scene to the last, with
utter negligence of all his commentators. When his fancy is once on the
wing, let it not stoop at correction or explanation.' _Ib_, p. 152. And
lastly he quotes Dryden's words [from Dryden's _Essay of Dramatick
Poesie_, edit. of 1701, i. 19] 'that Shakespeare was the man who, of all
modern and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive
soul.' _Ib_, p. 153. Mrs. Piozzi records (_Anec_., p. 58), that she
'forced Johnson one day in a similar humour [to that in which he had
praised Congreve] to prefer Young's description of night to those of
Shakespeare and Dryden.' He ended however by saying:--'Young froths and
foams and bubbles sometimes very vigorously; but we must not compare the
noise made by your tea-kettle here with the roaring of the ocean.' See
also _post_, p. 96.]
[Footnote 2: _Henry V_, act iv., Prologue.]
[Footnote 3: _Romeo and Juliet_, act iv., sc. 3.]
[Footnote 4: _King Lear_, act iv., sc. 6.]
Talking of a Barrister who had a bad utterance, some one, (to rouse
Johnson,) wickedly said, that he was unfortunate in not having been
taught oratory by Sheridan[1]. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, if he had been taught
by Sheridan, he would have cleared the room.' GARRICK. 'Sheridan has too
much vanity to be a good man.' We shall now see Johnson's mode of
_defending_ a man; taking him into his own hands, and discriminating.
JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. There is, to be sure, in Sheridan, something to
reprehend, and every thing to laugh at; but, Sir, he is not a bad man.
No, Sir; were mankind to be divided into good and bad, he would stand
considerably within the ranks of good. And, Sir, it must be allowed that
Sheridan excels in plain declamation, though he can exhibit no
character.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, July 26, 1763.]
I should, perhaps, have suppressed this disquisition concerning a person
of whose merit and worth I think with respect, had he not attacked
Johnson so outrageously in his _Life of Swift_, and, at the same time,
treated us, his admirers, as a set of pigmies[1]. He who has provoked
the lash of wit, cannot complain that he smarts from it.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 388.]
Mrs. Montagu, a lady distinguished for having written an Essay on
Shakspeare, being mentioned. REYNOLDS. 'I think that essay does her
honour.' JOHNSON, 'Yes, Sir; it does _her_ honour, but it would do
nobody else honour. I have, indeed, not read it all. But when I take up
the end of a web, and find it packthread, I do not expect, by looking
further, to find embroidery. Sir, I will venture to say, there is not
one sentence of true criticism in her book.' GARRICK. 'But, Sir, surely
it shews how much Voltaire has mistaken Shakspeare, which nobody else
has done[1].' JOHNSON. 'Sir, nobody else has thought it worth while. And
what merit is there in that? You may as well praise a schoolmaster for
whipping a boy who has construed ill. No, Sir, there is no real
criticism in it: none shewing the beauty of thought, as formed on the
workings of the human heart.'
[Footnote 1: In spite of the gross nonsense that Voltaire has written
about Shakespeare, yet it was with justice that in a letter to Horace
Walpole (dated July 15, 1768,) he said:--'Je suis le premier qui ait
fait connaitre Shakespeare aux Francais.... Je peux vous assurer
qu'avant moi personne en France ne connaissait la poesie anglaise.'
Voltaire's _Works_, liv. 513.]
The admirers of this Essay[1] may be offended at the slighting manner in
which Johnson spoke of it; but let it be remembered, that he gave his
honest opinion unbiased by any prejudice, or any proud jealousy of a
woman intruding herself into the chair of criticism; for Sir Joshua
Reynolds has told me, that when the Essay first came out, and it was not
known who had written it, Johnson wondered how Sir Joshua could like
it[2]. At this time Sir Joshua himself had received no information
concerning the authour, except being assured by one of our most eminent
literati, that it was clear its authour did not know the Greek tragedies
in the original. One day at Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that
Mrs. Montagu, in an excess of compliment to the authour of a modern
tragedy, had exclaimed, 'I tremble for Shakspeare;' Johnson said, 'When
Shakspeare has got ---- for his rival, and Mrs. Montagu for his
defender, he is in a poor state indeed.'
[Footnote 1: 'Of whom I acknowledge myself to be one, considering it as
a piece of the secondary or comparative species of criticism; and not of
that profound species which alone Dr. Johnson would allow to be "real
criticism." It is, besides, clearly and elegantly expressed, and has
done effectually what it professed to do, namely, vindicated Shakespeare
from the misrepresentations of Voltaire; and considering how many young
people were misled by his witty, though false observations, Mrs.
Montagu's Essay was of service to Shakspeare with a certain class of
readers, and is, therefore, entitled to praise. Johnson, I am assured,
allowed the merit which I have stated, saying, (with reference to
Voltaire,) "it is conclusive _ad hominem_."' BOSWELL. That this dull
essay, which would not do credit to a clever school-girl of seventeen,
should have had a fame, of which the echoes have not yet quite died out,
can only be fully explained by Mrs. Montagu's great wealth and position
in society. Contemptible as was her essay, yet a saying of hers about
Voltaire was clever. 'He sent to the Academy an invective [against
Shakespeare] that bears all the marks of passionate dotage. Mrs. Montagu
happened to be present when it was read. Suard, one of their writers,
said to her, "Je crois, Madame, que vous etes un peu fache (sic) de ce
que vous venez d'entendre." She replied, "Moi, Monsieur! point du tout!
Je ne suis pas amie de M. Voltaire."' Walpole's _Letters_, vi. 394. Her
own _Letters_ are very pompous and very poor, and her wit would not seem
to have flashed often; for Miss Burney wrote of her:--'She reasons well,
and harangues well, but wit she has none.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, i.
335. Yet in this same _Diary_ (i. 112) we find evidence of the absurdly
high estimate that was commonly formed of her. 'Mrs. Thrale asked me if
I did not want to see Mrs. Montagu. I truly said, I should be the most
insensible of all animals not to like to see our sex's glory.' That she
was a very extraordinary woman we have Johnson's word for it. (See
_post_, May 15, 1784.) It is impossible, however, to discover anything
that rises above commonplace in anything that she wrote, and, so far as
I know, that she said, with the exception of her one saying about
Voltaire. Johnson himself, in one of his letters to Mrs. Thrale, has a
laugh at her. He had mentioned Shakespeare, nature and friendship, and
continues:--'Now, of whom shall I proceed to speak? Of whom but Mrs.
Montagu? Having mentioned Shakespeare and Nature, does not the name of
Montagu force itself upon me? Such were the transitions of the ancients,
which now seem abrupt, because the intermediate idea is lost to modern
understandings. I wish her name had connected itself with friendship;
but, ah Colin, thy hopes are in vain.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 101. See
_post_, April 7, 1778.]
[Footnote 2: 'Reynolds is fond of her book, and I wonder at it; for
neither I, nor Beauclerk, nor Mrs. Thrale, could get through it.'
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 23, 1773.]
Johnson proceeded: 'The Scotchman[1] has taken the right method in his
_Elements of Criticism_. I do not mean that he has taught us any thing;
but he has told us old things in a new way.' MURPHY. 'He seems to have
read a great deal of French criticism, and wants to make it his own; as
if he had been for years anatomising the heart of man, and peeping into
every cranny of it.' GOLDSMITH. 'It is easier to write that book, than
to read it[2].' JOHNSON. 'We have an example of true criticism in
Burke's _Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful_; and, if I recollect, there
is also Du Bos[3]; and Bouhours[4], who shews all beauty to depend on
truth. There is no great merit in telling how many plays have ghosts in
them, and how this Ghost is better than that. You must shew how terrour
is impressed on the human heart. In the description of night in
_Macbeth_[5], the beetle and the bat detract from the general idea of
darkness,--inspissated gloom.'
[Footnote 1: Lord Kames is 'the Scotchman.' See _ante_, i. 393.]
[Footnote 2: 'When Charles Townshend read some of Lord Kames's _Elements
of Criticism_, he said:--"This is the work of a dull man grown
whimsical"--a most characteristical account of Lord Kames as a writer.'
_Boswelliana_, p. 278. Hume wrote of it:--'Some parts of the work are
ingenious and curious; but it is too abstruse and crabbed ever to take
with the public.' J. H. Burton's _Hume_, ii. 131. 'Kames,' he says, 'had
much provoked Voltaire, who never forgives, and never thinks any enemy
below his notice.' _Ib_, p. 195. Voltaire (_Works_, xliii. 302) thus
ridicules his book:--'Il nous prouve d'abord que nous avons cinq sens,
et que nous sentons moins l'impression douce faite sur nos yeux et sur
nos oreilles par les couleurs et par les sons que nous ne sentons un
grand coup sur la jambe ou sur la tete.']
[Footnote 3: L'Abbe Dubos, 1670-1742. 'Tous les artistes lisent avec
fruit ses _Reflexions sur la poesie, la peinture, et la musique_. C'est
le livre le plus utile qu'on ait jamais ecrit sur ces matieres chez
aucune des nations de l'Europe.' Voltaire's _Siecle de Louis XIV_, i.
81.]
[Footnote 4: Bouhours, 1628-1702. Voltaire, writing of Bouhours'
_Maniere de bien penser sur les ouvrages d'esprit_, says that he teaches
young people 'a eviter l'enflure, l'obscurite, le recherche, et le
faux.' _Ib_, p. 54. Johnson, perhaps, knew him, through _The Spectator_,
No. 62, where it is said that he has shown 'that it is impossible for
any thought to be beautiful which is not just, ... that the basis of all
wit is truth.']
[Footnote 5: _Macbeth_, act iii. sc. 2.]
Politicks being mentioned, he said, 'This petitioning is a new mode of
distressing government, and a mighty easy one. I will undertake to get
petitions either against quarter-guineas or half-guineas, with the help
of a little hot wine. There must be no yielding to encourage this. The
object is not important enough. We are not to blow up half a dozen
palaces, because one cottage is burning[1].'
[Footnote 1: In _The False Alarm_, that was published less than three
months after this conversation, Johnson describes how petitions were
got. 'The progress of a petition is well known. An ejected placeman goes
down to his county or his borough, tells his friends of his inability to
serve them, and his constituents of the corruption of the Government.
His friends readily understand that he who can get nothing will have
nothing to give. They agree to proclaim a meeting; meat and drink are
plentifully provided, a crowd is easily brought together, and those who
think that they know the reason of their meeting, undertake to tell
those who know it not; ale and clamour unite their powers.... The
petition is read, and universally approved. Those who are sober enough
to write, add their names, and the rest would sign it if they could.'
_Works_, vi. 172. Yet, when the petitions for Dr. Dodd's life were
rejected, Johnson said:--'Surely the voice of the public when it calls
so loudly, and calls only for mercy, ought to be heard.' _Post_, June
28, 1777. Horace Walpole, writing of the numerous petitions presented to
the King this year (1769), blames 'an example so inconsistent with the
principles of liberty, as appealing to the Crown against the House of
Commons.' Some of them prayed for a dissolution of Parliament. _Memoirs
of the Reign of George III_, iii. 382, 390. Two years earlier Lord
Shelburne, when Secretary of State, had found among the subscribers to a
petition for his impeachment, a friend of his, a London alderman. 'Oh!
aye,' said the alderman when asked for an explanation, 'I did sign a
petition at the Royal Exchange, which they told me was for the
impeachment of a Minister; I always sign a petition to impeach a
Minister, and I recollect that as soon as I had subscribed it, twenty
more put their names to it.' _Parl. Hist._, xxxv. 167.]
The conversation then took another turn. JOHNSON. 'It is amazing what
ignorance of certain points one sometimes finds in men of eminence. A
wit about town, who wrote Latin bawdy verses, asked me, how it happened
that England and Scotland, which were once two kingdoms, were now
one:--and Sir Fletcher Norton[1] did not seem to know that there were
such publications as the Reviews.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, under March 24, 1776.]
'The ballad of Hardyknute[1] has no great merit, if it be really
ancient. People talk of nature. But mere obvious nature may be exhibited
with very little power of mind.'
[Footnote 1: Mr. Robert Chambers says that the author of the ballad was
Elizabeth Halket, wife of Sir Henry Wardlaw. She died about 1727. 'The
ballad of Hardyknute was the first poem I ever read, and it will be the
last I shall forget.' SIR WALTER SCOTT. Croker's _Boswell_, p. 205.]
On Thursday, October 19, I passed the evening with him at his house. He
advised me to complete a Dictionary of words peculiar to Scotland, of
which I shewed him a specimen. 'Sir, (said he,) Ray has made a
collection of north-country words[1]. By collecting those of your
country, you will do a useful thing towards the history of the
language.' He bade me also go on with collections which I was making
upon the antiquities of Scotland. 'Make a large book; a folio.' BOSWELL.
'But of what use will it be, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Never mind the use; do it.'
[Footnote 1: John Ray published, in 1674, _A Collection of English
Words_, &c., and _A Collection of English Proverbs_. In 1768 the two
were published in one volume.]
I complained that he had not mentioned Garrick in his Preface to
Shakspeare[1]; and asked him if he did not admire him. JOHNSON. 'Yes, as
"a poor player, who frets and struts his hour upon the stage;"--as a
shadow[2].' BOSWELL, 'But has he not brought Shakspeare into notice[3]?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, to allow that, would be to lampoon the age. Many of
Shakspeare's plays are the worse for being acted: _Macbeth_, for
instance[4].' BOSWELL. 'What, Sir, is nothing gained by decoration and
action? Indeed, I do wish that you had mentioned Garrick.' JOHNSON. 'My
dear Sir, had I mentioned him, I must have mentioned many more: Mrs.
Pritchard, Mrs. Cibber,--nay, and Mr. Cibber too; he too altered
Shakspeare.' BOSWELL. 'You have read his apology, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Yes,
it is very entertaining. But as for Cibber himself, taking from his
conversation all that he ought not to have said[5], he was a poor
creature. I remember when he brought me one of his Odes to have my
opinion of it[6]; I could not bear such nonsense, and would not let him
read it to the end; so little respect had I for _that great man_!
(laughing.) Yet I remember Richardson wondering that I could treat him
with familiarity[7].'
[Footnote 1: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 23, 1773.]
[Footnote 2:
'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage.'
_Macbeth_, Act v. se. 5.]
[Footnote 3: In the _Garrick Corres_., i. 385, there is a letter from
Mrs. Montagu to Garrick, which shows the ridiculous way in which
Shakespeare was often patronised last century, and 'brought into
notice.' She says:--'Mrs. Montagu is a little jealous for poor
Shakespeare, for if Mr. Garrick often acts Kitely, Ben Jonson will
eclipse his fame.']
[Footnote 4: 'Familiar comedy is often more powerful on the theatre than
in the page; imperial tragedy is always less.' Johnson's _Works_, v.
122. See also Boswell's _Hebrides_, August 15 and 16, 1773, where
Johnson 'displayed another of his heterodox opinions--a contempt of
tragick acting.' Murphy (_Life_, p. 145) thus writes of Johnson's
slighting Garrick and the stage:--'The fact was, Johnson could not see
the passions as they rose and chased one another in the varied features
of that expressive face; and by his own manner of reciting verses, which
was wonderfully impressive, he plainly showed that he thought there was
too much of artificial tone and measured cadence in the declamation of
the theatre.' Reynolds said of Johnson's recitation, that 'it had no
more tone than it should the have.' Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 26, 1773.
See _post_, April 3, 1773.]
[Footnote 5: See _post_, April 6, 1775, where Johnson, speaking of
Cibber's 'talents of conversation,' said:--'He had but half to furnish;
for one half of what he said was oaths.']
[Footnote 6: See _ante_, June 13, 1763.]
[Footnote 7: See _post_, Sept. 21, 1777.]
I mentioned to him that I had seen the execution of several convicts at
Tyburn[1], two days before, and that none of them seemed to be under any
concern. JOHNSON. 'Most of them, Sir, have never thought at all.'
BOSWELL. 'But is not the fear of death natural to man?' JOHNSON. 'So
much so, Sir, that the whole of life is but keeping away the thoughts of
it[2].' He then, in a low and earnest tone, talked of his meditating
upon the aweful hour of his own dissolution, and in what manner he
should conduct himself upon that occasion: 'I know not (said he,)
whether I should wish to have a friend by me, or have it all between GOD
and myself.'
[Footnote 1: On Oct. 18, one day, not two days before, four men were
hanged at Tyburn for robbery on the highway, one for stealing money and
linen, and one for forgery. _Gent. Mag_., xxxix. 508. Boswell, in _The
Hypochondriack_, No. 68 (_London Mag_. for 1783, p. 203), republishes a
letter which he had written on April 25, 1768, to the _Public
Advertiser_, after he had witnessed the execution of an attorney named
Gibbon, and a youthful highwayman. He says:--'I must confess that I
myself am never absent from a public execution.... When I first attended
them, I was shocked to the greatest degree. I was in a manner convulsed
with pity and terror, and for several days, but especially nights after,
I was in a very dismal situation. Still, however, I persisted in
attending them, and by degrees my sensibility abated, so that I can now
see one with great composure. I can account for this curiosity in a
philosophical manner, when I consider that death is the most awful
object before every man, whoever directs his thoughts seriously towards
futurity. Therefore it is that I feel an irresistible impulse to be
present at every execution, as I there behold the various effects of the
near approach of death.' He maintains 'that the curiosity which impels
people to be present at such affecting scenes, is certainly a proof of
sensibility, not of callousness. For, it is observed, that the greatest
proportion of the spectators is composed of women.' See _post_, June 23,
1784.]
[Footnote 2: Of Johnson, perhaps, might almost be said what he said of
Swift (_Works_, viii. 207):--'The thoughts of death rushed upon him at
this time with such incessant importunity that they took possession of
his mind, when he first waked, for many hours together.' Writing to Mrs.
Thrale from Lichfield on Oct. 27, 1781, he says:--'All here is gloomy; a
faint struggle with the tediousness of time, a doleful confession of
present misery, and the approach seen and felt of what is most dreaded
and most shunned. But such is the lot of man.' _Piozzi Letters_, ii.
209.]
Talking of our feeling for the distresses of others;--JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, there is much noise made about it, but it is greatly exaggerated.
No, Sir, we have a certain degree of feeling to prompt us to do good:
more than that, Providence does not intend. It would be misery to no
purpose[1].' BOSWELL. 'But suppose now, Sir, that one of your intimate
friends were apprehended for an offence for which he might be hanged.'
JOHNSON. 'I should do what I could to bail him, and give him any other
assistance; but if he were once fairly hanged, I should not suffer.'
BOSWELL. 'Would you eat your dinner that day, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir;
and eat it as if he were eating it with me. Why, there's Baretti, who is
to be tried for his life to-morrow, friends have risen up for him on
every side; yet if he should be hanged, none of them will eat a slice of
plumb-pudding the less. Sir, that sympathetic feeling goes a very little
way in depressing the mind[2].'
[Footnote 1: Johnson, during a serious illness, thus wrote to Mrs.
Thrale:--'When any man finds himself disposed to complain with how
little care he is regarded, let him reflect how little he contributed to
the happiness of others, and how little, for the most part, he suffers
from their pain. It is perhaps not to be lamented that those solicitudes
are not long nor frequent which must commonly be vain; nor can we wonder
that, in a state in which all have so much to feel of their own evils,
very few have leisure for those of another.' _Piozzi Letters_, i. 14.
See _post_, Sept. 14, 1777.]
[Footnote 2: 'I was shocked to find a letter from Dr. Holland, to the
effect that poor Harry Hallam is dying at Sienna [Vienna]. What a trial
for my dear old friend! I feel for the lad himself, too. Much
distressed. I dined, however. We dine, unless the blow comes very, very
near the heart indeed.' Macaulay's _Life_, ii. 287. See also _ante_, i.
355.]
I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who shewed me a letter
which he had received from Tom Davies, telling him that he had not been
able to sleep from the concern which he felt on account of '_This sad
affair of Baretti_[1],' begging of him to try if he could suggest any
thing that might be of service; and, at the same time, recommending to
him an industrious young man who kept a pickle-shop. JOHNSON. 'Ay, Sir,
here you have a specimen of human sympathy; a friend hanged, and a
cucumber pickled. We know not whether Baretti or the pickle-man has kept
Davies from sleep; nor does he know himself. And as to his not sleeping,
Sir; Tom Davies is a very great man; Tom has been upon the stage, and
knows how to do those things. I have not been upon the stage, and cannot
do those things.' BOSWELL. 'I have often blamed myself, Sir, for not
feeling for others as sensibly as many say they do.' JOHNSON. 'Sir,
don't be duped by them any more. You will find these very feeling people
are not very ready to do you good. They _pay_ you by _feeling_.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, Feb. 24, 1773, for 'a furious quarrel' between
Davies and Baretti.]
BOSWELL. 'Foote has a great deal of humour?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir.'
BOSWELL. 'He has a singular talent of exhibiting character.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, it is not a talent; it is a vice; it is what others abstain from.
It is not comedy, which exhibits the character of a species, as that of
a miser gathered from many misers: it is farce, which exhibits
individuals.' BOSWELL. 'Did not he think of exhibiting you, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, fear restrained him; he knew I would have broken his
bones. I would have saved him the trouble of cutting off a leg; I would
not have left him a leg to cut off[1].' BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, is not
Foote an infidel?' JOHNSON. 'I do not know, Sir, that the fellow is an
infidel; but if he be an infidel, he is an infidel as a dog is an
infidel; that is to say, he has never thought upon the subject[2].'
BOSWELL. 'I suppose, Sir, he has thought superficially, and seized the
first notions which occurred to his mind.' JOHNSON. 'Why then, Sir,
still he is like a dog, that snatches the piece next him. Did you never
observe that dogs have not the power of comparing? A dog will take a
small bit of meat as readily as a large, when both are before him.'
[Footnote 1: Foote, two or three years before this, had lost one leg
through an accident in hunting. Forster's _Essays_, ii. 398. See _post_,
under Feb. 7, 1775.]
[Footnote 2: When Mr. Foote was at Edinburgh, he thought fit to
entertain a numerous Scotch company, with a great deal of coarse
jocularity, at the expense of Dr. Johnson, imagining it would be
acceptable. I felt this as not civil to me; but sat very patiently till
he had exhausted his merriment on that subject; and then observed, that
surely Johnson must be allowed to have some sterling wit, and that I had
heard him say a very good thing of Mr. Foote himself. 'Ah, my old friend
Sam (cried Foote), no man says better things; do let us have it.' Upon
which I told the above story, which produced a very loud laugh from the
company. But I never saw Foote so disconcerted. He looked grave and
angry, and entered into a serious refutation of the justice of the
remark. 'What, Sir, (said he), talk thus of a man of liberal
education;--a man who for years was at the University of Oxford;--a man
who has added sixteen new characters to the English drama of his
country!' BOSWELL.
Foote was at Worcester College, but he left without taking his degree.
He was constantly in scrapes. When the Provost, Dr. Gower, who was a
pedant, sent for him to reprimand him, 'Foote would present himself with
great apparent gravity and submission, but with a large dictionary under
his arm; when, on the doctor beginning in his usual pompous manner with
a surprisingly long word, he would immediately interrupt him, and, after
begging pardon with great formality, would produce his dictionary, and
pretending to find the meaning of the word, would say, "Very well, Sir;
now please to go on."' Forster's _Essays_, ii. 307. Dr. Gower is
mentioned by Dr. King (_Anec_., p. 174) as one of the three persons he
had known 'who spoke English with that elegance and propriety, that if
all they said had been immediately committed to writing, any judge of
the language would have pronounced it an excellent and very beautiful
style.' The other two were Bishop Atterbury and Dr. Johnson.]
'Buchanan (he observed,) has fewer _centos_[1] than any modern Latin
poet. He not only had great knowledge of the Latin language, but was a
great poetical genius. Both the Scaligers praise him.'
[Footnote 1: _Cento_. A composition formed by joining scrapes from other
authours.' Johnson's _Dictionary_.]
He again talked of the passage in _Congreve_ with high commendation, and
said, 'Shakspeare never has six lines together without a fault. Perhaps
you may find seven, but this does not refute my general assertion. If I
come to an orchard, and say there's no fruit here, and then comes a
poring man, who finds two apples and three pears, and tells me, "Sir,
you are mistaken, I have found both apples and pears," I should laugh at
him: what would that be to the purpose?'
BOSWELL. 'What do you think of Dr. Young's _Night Thoughts_, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, there are very fine things in them[1].' BOSWELL. 'Is
there not less religion in the nation now, Sir, than there was
formerly?' JOHNSON. 'I don't know, Sir, that there is.' BOSWELL. 'For
instance, there used to be a chaplain in every great family[2], which we
do not find now.' JOHNSON. 'Neither do you find any of the state
servants which great families used formerly to have. There is a change
of modes in the whole department of life.'
[Footnote 1: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 30, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: For the position of these chaplains see _The Tatler_, No.
255, and _The Guardian_, No. 163.]
Next day, October 20, he appeared, for the only time I suppose in his
life, as a witness in a Court of Justice, being called to give evidence
to the character of Mr. Baretti, who having stabbed a man in the street,
was arraigned at the Old Bailey for murder[1]. Never did such a
constellation of genius enlighten the aweful Sessions-House,
emphatically called JUSTICE HALL; Mr. Burke, Mr. Garrick, Mr. Beauclerk,
and Dr. Johnson; and undoubtedly their favourable testimony had due
weight with the Court and Jury. Johnson gave his evidence in a slow,
deliberate, and distinct manner, which was uncommonly impressive. It is
well known that Mr. Baretti was acquitted.
[Footnote 1: 'He had been assailed in the grossest manner possible by a
woman of the town, and, driving her off with a blow, was set upon by
three bullies. He thereupon ran away in great fear, for he was a timid
man, and being pursued, had stabbed two of the men with a small knife he
carried in his pocket.' Garrick and Beauclerk testified that every one
abroad carried such a knife, for in foreign inns only forks were
provided. 'When you travel abroad do you carry such knives as this?'
Garrick was asked. 'Yes,' he answered, 'or we should have no victuals.'
_Dr. Johnson: His Friends and His Critics_, p. 288. I have extracted
from the _Sessional Reports_ for 1769, p. 431, the following evidence as
to Baretti's character:--'SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. I have known Mr. Baretti
fifteen or sixteen years. He is a man of great humanity, and very active
in endeavouring to help his friends. He is a gentleman of a good temper;
I never knew him quarrelsome in my life; he is of a sober
disposition.... This affair was on a club night of the Royal
Academicians. We expected him there, and were inquiring about him before
we heard of this accident. He is secretary for foreign correspondence.'
'DR. JOHNSON. I believe I began to be acquainted with Mr. Baretti about
the year '53 or '54. I have been intimate with him. He is a man of
literature, a very studious man, a man of great diligence. He gets his
living by study. I have no reason to think he was ever disordered with
liquor in his life. A man that I never knew to be otherwise than
peaceable, and a man that I take to be rather timorous.' Qu. 'Was he
addicted to pick up women in the street?' 'Dr. J. I never knew that he
was.' Qu. 'How is he as to his eye-sight?' 'Dr. J. He does not see me
now, nor I do not [sic] see him. I do not believe he could be capable of
assaulting anybody in the street without great provocation.' 'EDMUND
BURKE, ESQ. I have known him between three and four years; he is an
ingenious man, a man of remarkable humanity--a thorough good-natured
man.' 'DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. I never knew a man of a more active
benevolence.... He is a man of great probity and morals.' 'DR.
GOLDSMITH. I have had the honour of Mr. Baretti's company at my chambers
in the Temple. He is a most humane, benevolent, peaceable man.... He is
a man of as great humanity as any in the world.' Mr. Fitzherbert and Dr.
Hallifax also gave evidence. 'There were divers other gentlemen in court
to speak for his character, but the Court thought it needless to call
them.' It is curious that Boswell passes over Reynolds and Goldsmith
among the witnesses. Baretti's bail before Lord Mansfield were Burke,
Garrick, Reynolds, and Fitzherbert. Mrs. Piozzi tells the following
anecdotes of Baretti:--'When Johnson and Burke went to see him in
Newgate, they had small comfort to give him, and bid him not hope too
strongly. "Why, what can _he_ fear," says Baretti, placing himself
between them, "that holds two such hands as I do?" An Italian came one
day to Baretti, when he was in Newgate, to desire a letter of
recommendation for the teaching his scholars, when he (Baretti) should
be hanged. "You rascal," replies Baretti in a rage, "if I were not _in
my own apartment_, I would kick you down stairs directly."' Hayward's
_Piazzi_, ii. 348. Dr. T. Campbell, in his _Diary_ (p. 52), wrote on
April 1, 1775:--'Boswell and Baretti, as I learned, are mortal foes; so
much so that Murphy and Mrs. Thrale agreed that Boswell expressed a
desire that Baretti should be hanged upon that unfortunate affair of his
killing, &c.']
On the 26th of October, we dined together at the Mitre tavern. I found
fault with Foote for indulging his talent of ridicule at the expence of
his visitors, which I colloquially termed making fools of his company.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, when you go to see Foote, you do not go to see a
saint: you go to see a man who will be entertained at your house, and
then bring you on a publick stage; who will entertain you at his house,
for the very purpose of bringing you on a publick stage. Sir, he does
not make fools of his company; they whom he exposes are fools already:
he only brings them into action.'
Talking of trade, he observed, 'It is a mistaken notion that a vast deal
of money is brought into a nation by trade. It is not so. Commodities
come from commodities; but trade produces no capital accession of
wealth. However, though there should be little profit in money, there is
a considerable profit in pleasure, as it gives to one nation the
productions of another; as we have wines and fruits, and many other
foreign articles, brought to us.' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir, and there is a
profit in pleasure, by its furnishing occupation to such numbers of
mankind.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you cannot call that pleasure to which all
are averse, and which none begin but with the hope of leaving off; a
thing which men dislike before they have tried it, and when they have
tried it.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, the mind must be employed, and we grow
weary when idle.' JOHNSON. 'That is, Sir, because, others being busy, we
want company; but if we were all idle, there would be no growing weary;
we should all entertain one another. There is, indeed, this in
trade:--it gives men an opportunity of improving their situation. If
there were no trade, many who are poor would always remain poor. But no
man loves labour for itself.' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir, I know a person who
does. He is a very laborious Judge, and he loves the labour[1].'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, that is because he loves respect and distinction. Could
he have them without labour, he would like it less.' BOSWELL. 'He tells
me he likes it for itself.'--'Why, Sir, he fancies so, because he is not
accustomed to abstract.'
[Footnote 1: Lord Auchinleck, we may assume. Johnson said of Pope, that
'he was one of those few whose labor is their pleasure.' _Works_, viii.
321.]
We went home to his house to tea. Mrs. Williams made it with sufficient
dexterity, notwithstanding her blindness, though her manner of
satisfying herself that the cups were full enough appeared to me a
little aukward; for I fancied she put her finger down a certain way,
till she felt the tea touch it[1]. In my first elation at being allowed
the privilege of attending Dr. Johnson at his late visits to this lady,
which was like being _e secretioribus consiliis_[2], I willingly drank
cup after cup, as if it had been the Heliconian spring. But as the charm
of novelty went off, I grew more fastidious; and besides, I discovered
that she was of a peevish temper[3].
[Footnote 1: I have since had reason to think that I was mistaken; for I
have been informed by a lady, who was long intimate with her, and likely
to be a more accurate observer of such matters, that she had acquired
such a niceness of touch, as to know, by the feeling on the outside of
the cup, how near it was to being full. BOSWELL. Baretti, in a MS. note
on _Piozzi Letters_, ii. 84, says:--'I dined with Dr. Johnson as seldom
as I could, though often scolded for it; but I hated to see the victuals
pawed by poor Mrs. Williams, that would often carve, though stone
blind.']
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, July 1 and Aug. 2, 1763.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, i. 232.]
There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr. Johnson was in very
good humour, lively, and ready to talk upon all subjects. Mr. Fergusson,
the self-taught philosopher, told him of a new-invented machine which
went without horses: a man who sat in it turned a handle, which worked a
spring that drove it forward. 'Then, Sir, (said Johnson,) what is gained
is, the man has his choice whether he will move himself alone, or
himself and the machine too.' Dominicetti[1] being mentioned, he would
not allow him any merit. 'There is nothing in all this boasted system.
No, Sir; medicated baths can be no better than warm water: their only
effect can be that of tepid moisture.' One of the company took the other
side, maintaining that medicines of various sorts, and some too of most
powerful effect, are introduced into the human frame by the medium of
the pores; and, therefore, when warm water is impregnated with
salutiferous substances, it may produce great effects as a bath. This
appeared to me very satisfactory. Johnson did not answer it; but talking
for victory, and determined to be master of the field, he had recourse
to the device which Goldsmith imputed to him in the witty words of one
of Cibber's comedies: 'There is no arguing with Johnson; for when his
pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it[2].' He
turned to the gentleman, 'Well, Sir, go to Dominicetti, and get thyself
fumigated; but be sure that the steam be directed to thy _head_, for
_that_ is the _peccant part_'. This produced a triumphant roar of
laughter from the motley assembly of philosophers, printers, and
dependents, male and female.
[Footnote 1: An Italian quack who in 1765 established medicated baths in
Cheney Walk, Chelsea. CROKER.]
[Footnote 2: The same saying is recorded _post_, May 15, 1784, and in
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 5, 1773. 'Cooke reports another saying of
Goldsmith's to the same effect:--"There's no chance for you in arguing
with Johnson. Like the Tartar horse, if he does not conquer you in
front, his kick from behind is sure to be fatal."' Forster's
_Goldsmith_, ii. 167. 'In arguing,' wrote Sir Joshua Reynolds, 'Johnson
did not trouble himself with much circumlocution, but opposed directly
and abruptly his antagonist. He fought with all sorts of weapons--
ludicrous comparisons and similies; if all failed, with rudeness and
overbearing. He thought it necessary never to be worsted in argument. He
had one virtue which I hold one of the most difficult to practise. After
the heat of contest was over, if he had been informed that his
antagonist resented his rudeness, he was the first to seek after a
reconciliation.... That he was not thus strenuous for victory with his
intimates in tete-a-tete conversations when there were no witnesses, may
be easily believed. Indeed, had his conduct been to them the same as he
exhibited to the public, his friends could never have entertained that
love and affection for him which they all feel and profess for his
memory.' Taylor's _Reynolds_, ii. 457, 462.]
I know not how so whimsical a thought came into my mind, but I asked,
'If, Sir, you were shut up in a castle, and a newborn child with you,
what would you do?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I should not much like my
company.' BOSWELL. 'But would you take the trouble of rearing it?' He
seemed, as may well be supposed, unwilling to pursue the subject: but
upon my persevering in my question, replied, 'Why yes, Sir, I would; but
I must have all conveniencies. If I had no garden, I would make a shed
on the roof, and take it there for fresh air. I should feed it, and wash
it much, and with warm water to please it, not with cold water to give
it pain.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, does not heat relax?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you
are not to imagine the water is to be very hot. I would not _coddle_ the
child. No, Sir, the hardy method of treating children does no good. I'll
take you five children from London, who shall cuff five Highland
children. Sir, a man bred in London will carry a burthen, or run, or
wrestle, as well as a man brought up in the hardiest manner in the
country.' BOSWELL. 'Good living, I suppose, makes the Londoners strong.'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I don't know that it does. Our Chairmen from
Ireland, who are as strong men as any, have been brought up upon
potatoes. Quantity makes up for quality.' BOSWELL. 'Would you teach this
child that I have furnished you with, any thing?' JOHNSON. 'No, I should
not be apt to teach it.' BOSWELL. 'Would not you have a pleasure in
teaching it?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, I should _not_ have a pleasure in
teaching it.' BOSWELL. 'Have you not a pleasure in teaching
men?--_There_ I have you. You have the same pleasure in teaching men,
that I should have in teaching children.' JOHNSON. 'Why, something about
that.' BOSWELL. 'Do you think, Sir, that what is called natural
affection is born with us? It seems to me to be the effect of habit, or
of gratitude for kindness. No child has it for a parent whom it has not
seen.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I think there is an instinctive natural
affection in parents towards their children.'
Russia being mentioned as likely to become a great empire, by the rapid
increase of population:--JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I see no prospect of their
propagating more. They can have no more children than they can get. I
know of no way to make them breed more than they do. It is not from
reason and prudence that people marry, but from inclination. A man is
poor; he thinks, "I cannot be worse, and so I'll e'en take Peggy."'
BOSWELL. 'But have not nations been more populous at one period than
another?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but that has been owing to the people
being less thinned at one period than another, whether by emigrations,
war, or pestilence, not by their being more or less prolifick. Births at
all times bear the same proportion to the same number of people.'
BOSWELL. 'But, to consider the state of our own country;--does not
throwing a number of farms into one hand hurt population?' JOHNSON. 'Why
no, Sir; the same quantity of food being produced, will be consumed by
the same number of mouths, though the people may be disposed of in
different ways. We see, if corn be dear, and butchers' meat cheap, the
farmers all apply themselves to the raising of corn, till it becomes
plentiful and cheap, and then butchers' meat becomes dear; so that an
equality is always preserved. No, Sir, let fanciful men do as they will,
depend upon it, it is difficult to disturb the system of life.' BOSWELL.
'But, Sir, is it not a very bad thing for landlords to oppress their
tenants, by raising their rents?' JOHNSON. 'Very bad. But, Sir, it never
can have any general influence; it may distress some individuals. For,
consider this: landlords cannot do without tenants. Now tenants will not
give more for land, than land is worth. If they can make more of their
money by keeping a shop, or any other way, they'll do it, and so oblige
landlords to let land come back to a reasonable rent, in order that they
may get tenants. Land, in England, is an article of commerce. A tenant
who pays his landlord his rent, thinks himself no more obliged to him
than you think yourself obliged to a man in whose shop you buy a piece
of goods. He knows the landlord does not let him have his land for less
than he can get from others, in the same manner as the shopkeeper sells
his goods. No shopkeeper sells a yard of ribband for sixpence when
seven-pence is the current price.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, is it not better
that tenants should be dependant on landlords?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, as
there are many more tenants than landlords, perhaps, strictly speaking,
we should wish not. But if you please you may let your lands cheap, and
so get the value, part in money and part in homage. I should agree with
you in that.' BOSWELL. 'So, Sir, you laugh at schemes of political
improvement.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, most schemes of political improvement
are very laughable things.'
He observed, 'Providence has wisely ordered that the more numerous men
are, the more difficult it is for them to agree in any thing, and so
they are governed. There is no doubt, that if the poor should reason,
"We'll be the poor no longer, we'll make the rich take their turn," they
could easily do it, were it not that they can't agree. So the common
soldiers, though so much more numerous than their officers, are governed
by them for the same reason.'
He said, 'Mankind have a strong attachment to the habitations to which
they have been accustomed. You see the inhabitants of Norway do not with
one consent quit it, and go to some part of America, where there is a
mild climate, and where they may have the same produce from land, with
the tenth part of the labour. No, Sir; their affection for their old
dwellings, and the terrour of a general change, keep them at home. Thus,
we see many of the finest spots in the world thinly inhabited, and many
rugged spots well inhabited.'
_The London Chronicle_[1], which was the only news-paper he constantly
took in, being brought, the office of reading it aloud was assigned to
me. I was diverted by his impatience. He made me pass over so many parts
of it, that my task was very easy. He would not suffer one of the
petitions to the King about the Middlesex election to be read[2].
[Footnote 1: He had written the _Introduction_ to it. _Ante_, p. 317.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, beginning of 1770.]
I had hired a Bohemian as my servant[1] while I remained in London, and
being much pleased with him, I asked Dr. Johnson whether his being a
Roman Catholick should prevent my taking him with me to Scotland.
JOHNSON. 'Why no, Sir, if _he_ has no objection, you can have none.'
BOSWELL. 'So, Sir, you are no great enemy to the Roman Catholick
religion.' JOHNSON. 'No more, Sir, than to the Presbyterian religion.'
BOSWELL. 'You are joking.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, I really think so. Nay,
Sir, of the two, I prefer the Popish[2].' BOSWELL. 'How so, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, the Presbyterians have no church, no apostolical
ordination.' BOSWELL. 'And do you think that absolutely essential, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, as it was an apostolical institution, I think it is
dangerous to be without it. And, Sir, the Presbyterians have no public
worship: they have no form of prayer in which they know they are to
join. They go to hear a man pray, and are to judge whether they will
join with him.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, their doctrine is the same with that
of the Church of England. Their confession of faith, and the thirty-nine
articles, contain the same points, even the doctrine of predestination.'
JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir, predestination was a part of the clamour of the
times, so it is mentioned in our articles, but with as little
positiveness as could be.' BOSWELL. 'Is it necessary, Sir, to believe
all the thirty-nine articles?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, that is a question
which has been much agitated. Some have thought it necessary that they
should all be believed; others have considered them to be only articles
of peace, that is to say, you are not to preach against them[3].'
BOSWELL. 'It appears to me, Sir, that predestination, or what is
equivalent to it, cannot be avoided, if we hold an universal prescience
in the Deity.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, does not GOD every day see things
going on without preventing them?' BOSWELL. 'True, Sir; but if a thing
be _certainly_ foreseen, it must be fixed, and cannot happen otherwise;
and if we apply this consideration to the human mind, there is no free
will, nor do I see how prayer can be of any avail.' He mentioned Dr.
Clarke, and Bishop Bramhall on _Liberty and Necessity_, and bid me read
South's _Sermons on Prayer_; but avoided the question which has
excruciated philosophers and divines, beyond any other. I did not press
it further, when I perceived that he was displeased[4], and shrunk from
any abridgement of an attribute usually ascribed to the Divinity,
however irreconcilable in its full extent with the grand system of
moral government. His supposed orthodoxy here cramped the vigorous
powers of his understanding. He was confined by a chain which early
imagination and long habit made him think massy and strong, but which,
had he ventured to try, he could at once have snapt asunder.
[Footnote 1: He accompanied Boswell on his tour to the Hebrides.
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 18, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: While he was in Scotland he never entered one of the
churches. 'I will not give a sanction,' he said, 'by my presence, to a
Presbyterian assembly.' _Ib_ Aug. 27, 1773. When he was in France he
went to a Roman Catholic service; _post_, Oct. 29, 1775.]
[Footnote 3: See _post_, March 21, 1772.]
[Footnote 4: See _ante_, ii. 82.]
I proceeded: 'What do you think, Sir, of Purgatory[1], as believed by
the Roman Catholicks?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is a very harmless
doctrine. They are of opinion that the generality of mankind are neither
so obstinately wicked as to deserve everlasting punishment, nor so good
as to merit being admitted into the society of blessed spirits; and
therefore that God is graciously pleased to allow of a middle state,
where they may be purified by certain degrees of suffering. You see,
Sir, there is nothing unreasonable in this.' BOSWELL. 'But then, Sir,
their masses for the dead?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, if it be once
established that there are souls in purgatory, it is as proper to pray
for _them_, as for our brethren of mankind who are yet in this life.'
BOSWELL. 'The idolatry of the Mass?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, there is no idolatry
in the Mass. They believe GOD to be there, and they adore him.' BOSWELL.
'The worship of Saints?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, they do not worship saints; they
invoke them; they only ask their prayers[2]. I am talking all this time
of the _doctrines_ of the Church of Rome. I grant you that in
_practice_, Purgatory is made a lucrative imposition, and that the
people do become idolatrous as they recommend themselves to the tutelary
protection of particular saints. I think their giving the sacrament only
in one kind is criminal, because it is contrary to the express
institution of CHRIST, and I wonder how the Council of Trent admitted
it.' BOSWELL. 'Confession?' JOHNSON. 'Why, I don't know but that is a
good thing. The scripture says, "Confess your faults one to another[3],"
and the priests confess as well as the laity. Then it must be considered
that their absolution is only upon repentance, and often upon penance
also. You think your sins may be forgiven without penance, upon
repentance alone.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, March 27, 1772.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, May 7, 1773, Oct. 10, 1779, and June 9, 1784.]
[Footnote 3: _St. James_, v. 16.]
I thus ventured to mention all the common objections against the Roman
Catholick Church, that I might hear so great a man upon them. What he
said is here accurately recorded. But it is not improbable that if one
had taken the other side, he might have reasoned differently.
I must however mention, that he had a respect for '_the old religion_,'
as the mild Melancthon[1] called that of the Roman Catholick Church,
even while he was exerting himself for its reformation in some
particulars. Sir William Scott informs me, that he heard Johnson say, 'A
man who is converted from Protestantism to Popery may be sincere: he
parts with nothing: he is only superadding to what he already had. But a
convert from Popery to Protestantism gives up so much of what he has
held as sacred as any thing that he retains; there is so much
_laceration of mind_[2] in such a conversion, that it can hardly be
sincere and lasting[3].' The truth of this reflection may be confirmed
by many and eminent instances, some of which will occur to most of my
readers.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, June 28, 1777, note.]
[Footnote 2: Laceration was properly a term of surgery; hence the
italics. See _post_, Jan. 20, 1780.]
[Footnote 3: See _post_, April 15, 1778.]
When we were alone, I introduced the subject of death, and endeavoured
to maintain that the fear of it might be got over. I told him that David
Hume said to me, he was no more uneasy to think he should _not be_ after
this life, than that he _had not been_ before he began to exist.
JOHNSON: 'Sir, if he really thinks so, his perceptions are disturbed; he
is mad: if he does not think so, he lies. He may tell you, he holds his
finger in the flame of a candle, without feeling pain; would you believe
him? When he dies, he at least gives up all he has.' BOSWELL: 'Foote,
Sir, told me, that when he was very ill he was not afraid to die.'
JOHNSON: 'It is not true, Sir[1]. Hold a pistol to Foote's breast, or to
Hume's breast, and threaten to kill them, and you'll see how they
behave.' BOSWELL: 'But may we not fortify our minds for the approach of
death?' Here I am sensible I was in the wrong, to bring before his view
what he ever looked upon with horrour; for although when in a celestial
frame, in his _Vanity of human wishes_, he has supposed death to be
'kind Nature's signal for retreat,' from this state of being to 'a
happier seat[2],' his thoughts upon this aweful change were in general
full of dismal apprehensions. His mind resembled the vast amphitheatre,
the Colisaeum at Rome. In the centre stood his judgement, which, like a
mighty gladiator, combated those apprehensions that, like the wild
beasts of the _Arena_, were all around in cells, ready to be let out
upon him. After a conflict, he drives them back into their dens; but not
killing them, they were still assailing him. To my question, whether we
might not fortify our minds for the approach of death, he answered, in a
passion, 'No, Sir, let it alone. It matters not how a man dies, but how
he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a
time[3].' He added, (with an earnest look,) 'A man knows it must be so,
and submits. It will do him no good to whine.'
[Footnote 1: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept. 12, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: He bids us pray
'For faith that panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind nature's signal of retreat.']
[Footnote 3:
'To die is landing on some silent shore,
Where billows never beat, nor tempests roar,
Ere well we feel the friendly stroke, 'tis o'er.'
GARTH. Quoted in Johnson's _Works_, vi. 61. Bacon, if he was the author
of _An Essay on Death_, says, 'I do not believe that any man fears to be
dead, but only the stroke of death.' Spedding's _Bacon_, vi. 600. Cicero
(_Tuscul. Quaest_. i. 8) quotes Epicharmus's saying:--'Emori nolo, sed
me esse mortuum nihil aestimo.']
I attempted to continue the conversation. He was so provoked, that he
said, 'Give us no more of this;' and was thrown into such a state of
agitation, that he expressed himself in a way that alarmed and
distressed me; shewed an impatience that I should leave him, and when I
was going away, called to me sternly, 'Don't let us meet to-morrow.'
I went home exceedingly uneasy. All the harsh observations which I had
ever heard made upon his character, crowded into my mind; and I seemed
to myself like the man who had put his head into the lion's mouth a
great many times with perfect safety, but at last had it bit off.
Next morning I sent him a note, stating, that I might have been in the
wrong, but it was not intentionally; he was therefore, I could not help
thinking, too severe upon me. That notwithstanding our agreement not to
meet that day, I would call on him in my way to the city, and stay five
minutes by my watch. 'You are, (said I,) in my mind, since last night,
surrounded with cloud and storm. Let me have a glimpse of sunshine, and
go about my affairs in serenity and chearfulness.'
Upon entering his study, I was glad that he was not alone, which would
have made our meeting more awkward. There were with him, Mr. Steevens[1]
and Mr. Tyers[2], both of whom I now saw for the first time. My note
had, on[3] his own reflection, softened him, for he received me very
complacently; so that I unexpectedly found myself at ease, and joined in
the conversation.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, beginning of 1773.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, April 17, 1778.]
[Footnote 3: Perhaps _on_ is a misprint for _or_.]
He said, the criticks had done too much honour to Sir Richard Blackmore,
by writing so much against him[1]. That in his _Creation_ he had been
helped by various wits, a line by Phillips and a line by Tickell; so
that by their aid, and that of others, the poem had been made out[2].
[Footnote 1: Johnson says of Blackmore (_Works_, viii. 36) that 'he is
one of those men whose lot it has been to be much oftener mentioned by
enemies than by friends.']
[Footnote 2: This account Johnson says he had from an eminent
bookseller, who had it from Ambrose Philips the poet. 'The relation of
Philips,' he adds, 'I suppose was true; but when all reasonable, all
credible allowance is made for this friendly revision, the author will
still retain an ample dividend of praise.... Correction seldom effects
more than the suppression of faults: a happy line, or a single elegance,
may perhaps be added, but of a large work the general character must
always remain.' _Works_, viii. 41.]
I defended Blackmore's supposed lines, which have been ridiculed as
absolute nonsense:--
'A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won[1].'
[Footnote 1: An acute correspondent of the _European Magazine_, April,
1792, has completely exposed a mistake which has been unaccountably
frequent in ascribing these lines to Blackmore, notwithstanding that Sir
Richard Steele, in that very popular work, _The Spectator_, mentions
them as written by the Authour of The British Princes, the Honourable
Edward Howard. The correspondent above mentioned, shews this mistake to
be so inveterate, that not only _I_ defended the lines as Blackmore's,
in the presence of Dr. Johnson, without any contradiction or doubt of
their authenticity, but that the Reverend Mr. Whitaker has asserted in
print, that he understands they were _suppressed_ in the late edition or
editions of Blackmore. 'After all (says this intelligent writer) it is
not unworthy of particular observation, that these lines so often quoted
do not exist either in Blackmore or Howard.' In _The British Princes_,
8vo. 1669, now before me, p. 96, they stand thus:--
'A vest as admired Voltiger had on,
Which, from this Island's foes, his grandsire won,
Whose artful colour pass'd the Tyrian dye,
Oblig'd to triumph in this legacy.'
It is probable, I think, that some wag, in order to make Howard still
more ridiculous than he really was, has formed the couplet as it now
circulates. BOSWELL. Swift in his _Poetry: A Rhapsody_, thus joins
Howard and Blackmore together:--
'Remains a difficulty still,
To purchase fame by writing ill.
From Flecknoe down to Howard's time
How few have reached the low sublime!
For when our high-born Howard died,
Blackmore alone his place supplied.'
_Swift's Works_ (1803), xi. 296.]
I maintained it to be a poetical conceit. A Pict being painted, if he is
slain in battle, and a vest is made of his skin, it is a painted vest
won from him, though he was naked[1].
[Footnote 1: Boswell seems to have borrowed the notion from _The
Spectator_, No. 43, where Steele, after saying that the poet blundered
because he was 'vivacious as well as stupid,' continues:--'A fool of a
colder constitution would have staid to have flayed the Pict, and made
buff of his skin for the wearing of the conqueror.']
Johnson spoke unfavourably of a certain pretty voluminous authour,
saying, 'He used to write anonymous books, and then other books
commending those books, in which there was something of rascality.'
I whispered him, 'Well, Sir, you are now in good humour.' JOHNSON. 'Yes,
Sir.' I was going to leave him, and had got as far as the staircase. He
stopped me, and smiling, said, 'Get you gone _in_;' a curious mode of
inviting me to stay, which I accordingly did for some time longer.
This little incidental quarrel and reconciliation, which, perhaps, I may
be thought to have detailed too minutely, must be esteemed as one of
many proofs which his friends had, that though he might be charged with
_bad humour_ at times, he was always a _good-natured_ man; and I have
heard Sir Joshua Reynolds[1], a nice and delicate observer of manners,
particularly remark, that when upon any occasion Johnson had been rough
to any person in company, he took the first opportunity of
reconciliation, by drinking to him, or addressing his discourse to
him[2]; but if he found his dignified indirect overtures sullenly
neglected, he was quite indifferent, and considered himself as having
done all that he ought to do, and the other as now in the wrong.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 100, note 1.]
[Footnote 2: Mrs. Piozzi (_Anec_. p. 97) tells how one day at Streatham
'when he was musing over the fire, a young gentleman called to him
suddenly, and I suppose he thought disrespectfully, in these words:--
"Mr. Johnson, would you advise me to marry?" "I would advise no man to
marry, Sir," returns for answer in a very angry tone Dr. Johnson, "who
is not likely to propagate understanding," and so left the room. Our
companion looked confounded, and I believe had scarce recovered the
consciousness of his own existence, when Johnson came back, and drawing
his chair among us, with altered looks and a softened voice, joined in
the general chat, insensibly led the conversation to the subject of
marriage, where he laid himself out in a dissertation so useful, so
elegant, so founded on the true knowledge of human life, and so adorned
with beauty of sentiment, that no one ever recollected the offence
except to rejoice in its consequences.' This 'young gentleman,'
according to Mr. Hayward (Mrs. Piozzi's _Auto._ i. 69), was Sir John
Lade, the hero of the ballad which Johnson recited on his death-bed. For
other instances of Johnson's seeking a reconciliation, see _post_, May
7, 1773, and April 12 and May 8, 1778.]
Being to set out for Scotland on the 10th of November, I wrote to him at
Streatham, begging that he would meet me in town on the 9th; but if this
should be very inconvenient to him, I would go thither. His answer was
as follows:--
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'Upon balancing the inconveniences of both parties, I find it will less
incommode you to spend your night here, than me to come to town. I wish
to see you, and am ordered by the lady of this house to invite you
hither. Whether you can come or not, I shall not have any occasion of
writing to you again before your marriage, and therefore tell you now,
that with great sincerity I wish you happiness.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Nov. 9, 1769.'
I was detained in town till it was too late on the ninth, so went to him
early on the morning of the tenth of November. 'Now (said he,) that you
are going to marry, do not expect more from life, than life will afford.
You may often find yourself out of humour, and you may often think your
wife not studious enough to please you; and yet you may have reason to
consider yourself as upon the whole very happily married.'
Talking of marriage in general, he observed, 'Our marriage service is
too refined. It is calculated only for the best kind of marriages;
whereas, we should have a form for matches of convenience, of which
there are many.' He agreed with me that there was no absolute necessity
for having the marriage ceremony performed by a regular clergyman, for
this was not commanded in scripture.
I was volatile enough to repeat to him a little epigrammatick song of
mine, on matrimony, which Mr. Garrick had a few days before procured to
be set to musick by the very ingenious Mr. Dibden.
'A MATRIMONIAL THOUGHT.
'In the blithe days of honey-moon,
With Kate's allurements smitten,
I lov'd her late, I lov'd her soon,
And call'd her dearest kitten.
But now my kitten's grown a cat,
And cross like other wives,
O! by my soul, my honest Mat,
I fear she has nine lives.'
My illustrious friend said, 'It is very well, Sir; but you should not
swear.' Upon which I altered 'O! by my soul,' to 'alas, alas!'
He was so good as to accompany me to London, and see me into the
post-chaise which was to carry me on my road to Scotland. And sure I am,
that, however inconsiderable many of the particulars recorded at this
time may appear to some, they will be esteemed by the best part of my
readers as genuine traits of his character, contributing together to
give a full, fair, and distinct view of it.
1770: AETAT. 61.--In 1770 he published a political pamphlet, entitled
_The False Alarm_[1], intended to justify the conduct of ministry and
their majority in the House of Commons, for having virtually assumed it
as an axiom, that the expulsion of a Member of Parliament was equivalent
to exclusion, and thus having declared Colonel Lutterel to be duly
elected for the county of Middlesex, notwithstanding Mr. Wilkes had a
great majority of votes[2]. This being justly considered as a gross
violation of the right of election, an alarm for the constitution
extended itself all over the kingdom. To prove this alarm to be false,
was the purpose of Johnson's pamphlet; but even his vast powers were
inadequate to cope with constitutional truth and reason, and his
argument failed of effect; and the House of Commons have since expunged
the offensive resolution from their Journals[3]. That the House of
Commons might have expelled Mr. Wilkes repeatedly, and as often as he
should be re-chosen, was not denied; but incapacitation cannot be but by
an act of the whole legislature. It was wonderful to see how a prejudice
in favour of government in general, and an aversion to popular clamour,
could blind and contract such an understanding as Johnson's, in this
particular case; yet the wit, the sarcasm, the eloquent vivacity which
this pamphlet displayed, made it be read with great avidity at the time,
and it will ever be read with pleasure, for the sake of its composition.
That it endeavoured to infuse a narcotick indifference, as to publick
concerns, into the minds of the people, and that it broke out sometimes
into an extreme coarseness of contemptuous abuse, is but too evident.
[Footnote 1: '_The False Alarm_, his first and favourite pamphlet, was
written at our house between eight o'clock on Wednesday night and twelve
o'clock on Thursday night. We read it to Mr. Thrale when he came very
late home from the House of Commons.' Piozzi's _Anec_. p. 41. See also
_post_, Nov. 26, 1774, where Johnson says that '_The Patriot_ was called
for by my political friends on Friday, was written on Saturday.']
[Footnote 2: Wilkes was first elected member for Middlesex at the
General Election of March, 1768. He did not take his seat, having been
thrown into prison before Parliament met. On Feb. 3, 1769, he was
declared incapable of being elected, and a new writ was ordered. On Feb.
16 he was again elected, and without opposition. His election was again
declared void. On March 16 he was a third time elected, and without
opposition. His election was again declared void. On April 13 he was a
fourth time elected by 1143 votes against 296 given for Colonel
Luttrell. On the 14th the poll taken for him was declared null and void,
and on the 15th, Colonel Luttrell was declared duly elected. _Parl.
Hist_. xvi. 437, and Almon's _Wilkes_, iv. 4. See _post_, Oct. 12,
1779.]
[Footnote 3: The resolution of expulsion was carried on Feb. 17, 1769.
_Parl. Hist_. xvi. 577. It was expunged on May 3, 1782. _Ib_ xxii.
1407.]
It must not, however, be omitted, that when the storm of his violence
subsides, he takes a fair opportunity to pay a grateful compliment to
the King, who had rewarded his merit: 'These low-born rulers[1] have
endeavoured, surely without effect, to alienate the affections of the
people from the only King who for almost a century has much appeared to
desire, or much endeavoured to deserve them.' And, 'Every honest man
must lament, that the faction has been regarded with frigid neutrality
by the Tories, who being long accustomed to signalise their principles
by opposition to the Court, do not yet consider, that they have at last
a King who knows not the name of party, and who wishes to be the common
father of all his people.'
[Footnote 1: In the original it is not _rulers_, but _railers_.
Johnson's _Works_, vi. 176.]
To this pamphlet, which was at once discovered to be Johnson's, several
answers came out, in which, care was taken to remind the publick of his
former attacks upon government, and of his now being a pensioner,
without allowing for the honourable terms upon which Johnson's pension
was granted and accepted, or the change of system which the British
court had undergone upon the accession of his present Majesty[1]. He
was, however, soothed[2] in the highest strain of panegyrick, in a poem
called _The Remonstrance_, by the Rev. Mr. Stockdale[3], to whom he was,
upon many occasions, a kind protector.
[Footnote 1: How slight the change of system was is shown by a passage
in Forster's _Goldsmith_, ii. 388. Mr. Forster mentions a 'memorial in
favour of the most worthless of hack-partizans, Shebbeare, which
obtained for him his pension of L200 a year. It is signed by fifteen
members of the House of Commons, and it asks for a pension "that he may
be enabled to pursue that laudable _inclination which he has_ of
manifesting his zeal for the service of his Majesty and his Government";
in other words, that a rascal shall be bribed to support a corrupt
administration.' Horace Walpole, in 1757 (_Letters_, iii. 54), described
Shebbeare as one 'who made a pious resolution of writing himself into a
place or the pillory, but who miscarried in both views.' He added in a
note, 'he did write himself into a pillory before the conclusion of that
reign, and into a pension at the beginning of the next, for one and the
same kind of merit--writing against King William and the Revolution.'
See also _post_, end of May, 1781.]
[Footnote 2: Johnson could scarcely be soothed by lines such as the
following:--
'Never wilt thou retain the hoarded store,
In virtue affluent, but in metal poor;
* * * * *
Great is thy prose; great thy poetic strain,
Yet to dull coxcombs are they great in vain.]
[Footnote 3: Stockdale, who was born in 1736 and died in 1811, wrote
_Memoirs of his Life_--a long, dull book, but containing a few
interesting anecdotes of Johnson. He thought himself, and the world
also, much ill-used by the publishers, when they passed him over and
chose Johnson to edit the _Lives of the Poets_. He lodged both in
Johnson's Court and in Bolt Court, but preserved little good-will for
his neighbour. Johnson, in the _Life of Waller_ (_Works_, vii. 194),
quoting from Stockdale's _Life_ of that poet, calls him 'his last
ingenious biographer.' I. D'Israeli says that 'the bookseller Flexney
complained that whenever this poet came to town, it cost him L20.
Flexney had been the publisher of Churchill's _Works_, and never
forgetting the time when he published _The Rosciad_, he was speculating
all his life for another Churchill and another quarto poem. Stockdale
usually brought him what he wanted, and Flexney found the workman, but
never the work.' _Calamities of Authors_, ed. 1812, ii. 314.]
The following admirable minute made by him describes so well his own
state, and that of numbers to whom self-examination is habitual, that I
cannot omit it:--
'June 1, 1770. Every man naturally persuades himself that he can keep
his resolutions, nor is he convinced of his imbecility but by length of
time and frequency of experiment[1]. This opinion of our own constancy
is so prevalent, that we always despise him who suffers his general and
settled purpose to be overpowered by an occasional desire. They,
therefore, whom frequent failures have made desperate, cease to form
resolutions; and they who are become cunning, do not tell them. Those
who do not make them are very few, but of their effect little is
perceived; for scarcely any man persists in a course of life planned by
choice, but as he is restrained from deviation by some external power.
He who may live as he will, seldom lives long in the observation of his
own rules[2].'
[Footnote 1: 'I believe most men may review all the lives that have
passed within their observation without remembering one efficacious
resolution, or being able to tell a single instance of a course of
practice suddenly changed in consequence of a change of opinion, or an
establishment of determination.' _Idler_, No. 27. 'These sorrowful
meditations fastened upon Rasselas's mind; he passed four months in
resolving to lose no more time in idle resolves.' _Rasselas_, ch. iv.]
[Footnote 2: _Pr. and Med._ p. 95. [p. 101.] BOSWELL.]
Of this year I have obtained the following letters:--
'To THE REVEREND DR. FARMER[1], CAMBRIDGE.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 368.]
'SIR,
'As no man ought to keep wholly to himself any possession that may be
useful to the publick, I hope you will not think me unreasonably
intrusive, if I have recourse to you for such information as you are
more able to give me than any other man.
'In support of an opinion which you have already placed above the need
of any more support, Mr. Steevens, a very ingenious gentleman, lately of
King's College, has collected an account of all the translations which
Shakspeare might have seen and used. He wishes his catalogue to be
perfect, and therefore intreats that you will favour him by the
insertion of such additions as the accuracy of your inquiries has
enabled you to make. To this request, I take the liberty of adding my
own solicitation.
'We have no immediate use for this catalogue, and therefore do not
desire that it should interrupt or hinder your more important
employments. But it will be kind to let us know that you receive it.
'I am, Sir, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,
March 21, 1770.'
'To THE REVEREND MR. THOMAS WARTON.
'DEAR SIR,
'The readiness with which you were pleased to promise me some notes on
Shakspeare, was a new instance of your friendship. I shall not hurry
you; but am desired by Mr. Steevens, who helps me in this edition, to
let you know, that we shall print the tragedies first, and shall
therefore want first the notes which belong to them. We think not to
incommode the readers with a supplement; and therefore, what we cannot
put into its proper place, will do us no good. We shall not begin to
print before the end of six weeks, perhaps not so soon.
'I am, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, June 23, 1770.'
'To THE REV. DR. JOSEPH WARTON.
'DEAR SIR,
'I am revising my edition of _Shakspeare_, and remember that I formerly
misrepresented your opinion of Lear. Be pleased to write the paragraph
as you would have it, and send it[1]. If you have any remarks of your
own upon that or any other play, I shall gladly receive them.
[Footnote 1: The passage remains unrevised in the second edition.]
'Make my compliments to Mrs. Warton. I sometimes think of wandering for
a few days to Winchester, but am apt to delay. I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Sept. 27, 1770.'
'To MR. FRANCIS BARBER, AT MRS. CLAPP'S, BISHOP-STORTFORD,
HERTFORDSHIRE.
'DEAR FRANCIS,
'I am at last sat down to write to you, and should very much blame
myself for having neglected you so long, if I did not impute that and
many other failings to want of health[1]. I hope not to be so long
silent again. I am very well satisfied with your progress, if you can
really perform the exercises which you are set; and I hope Mr. Ellis
does not suffer you to impose on him, or on yourself.
[Footnote 1: Johnson had suffered greatly from rheumatism this year, as
well as from other disorders. He mentions 'spasms in the stomach which
disturbed me for many years, and for two past harassed me almost to
distraction.' These, however, by means of a strong remedy, had at
Easter nearly ceased. 'The pain,' he adds, 'harrasses me much; yet many
leave the disease perhaps in a much higher degree, with want of food,
fire, and covering, which I find also grievous, with all the succours
that riches kindness can buy and give.' (He was staying at Mr. Thrale's)
_Pr. and Med._ pp. 92-95. 'Shall I ever,' he asks on Easter Day,
'receive the Sacrament with tranquility? Surely the time will come.'
_Ib_ p. 99.]
'Make my compliments to Mr. Ellis, and to Mrs. Clapp, and Mr. Smith.
'Let me know what English books you read for your entertainment. You can
never be wise unless you love reading.
'Do not imagine that I shall forget or forsake you; for if, when I
examine you, I find that you have not lost your time, you shall want no
encouragement from
'Yours affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, Sept. 25, 1770.'
'TO THE SAME.
'DEAR FRANCIS,
'I hope you mind your business. I design you shall stay with Mrs. Clapp
these holidays. If you are invited out you may go, if Mr. Ellis gives
leave. I have ordered you some clothes, which you will receive, I
believe, next week. My compliments to Mrs. Clapp and to Mr. Ellis, and
Mr. Smith, &c.
'I am
'Your affectionate,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'December 7, 1770.'
During this year there was a total cessation of all correspondence
between Dr. Johnson and me, without any coldness on either side, but
merely from procrastination, continued from day to day; and as I was not
in London, I had no opportunity of enjoying his company and recording
his conversation. To supply this blank, I shall present my readers with
some _Collectanea_, obligingly furnished to me by the Rev. Dr. Maxwell,
of Falkland, in Ireland, some time assistant preacher at the Temple, and
for many years the social friend of Johnson, who spoke of him with a
very kind regard.
'My acquaintance with that great and venerable character commenced in
the year 1754. I was introduced to him by Mr. Grierson[1], his Majesty's
printer at Dublin, a gentleman of uncommon learning, and great wit and
vivacity. Mr. Grierson died in Germany, at the age of twenty-seven. Dr.
Johnson highly respected his abilities, and often observed, that he
possessed more extensive knowledge than any man of his years he had ever
known. His industry was equal to his talents; and he particularly
excelled in every species of philological learning, and was, perhaps,
the best critick of the age he lived in.
[Footnote 1: Son of the learned Mrs. Grierson, who was patronised by the
late Lord Granville, and was the editor of several of the Classicks.
BOSWELL.]
'I must always remember with gratitude my obligation to Mr. Grierson,
for the honour and happiness of Dr. Johnson's acquaintance and
friendship, which continued uninterrupted and undiminished to his death:
a connection, that was at once the pride and happiness of my life.
'What pity it is, that so much wit and good sense as he continually
exhibited in conversation, should perish unrecorded! Few persons quitted
his company without perceiving themselves wiser and better than they
were before. On serious subjects he flashed the most interesting
conviction upon his auditors; and upon lighter topicks, you might have
supposed--_Albano musas de monte locutas_[1].
[Footnote 1:
'Pontificum libros, annosa volumina vatum,
Dictitet Albano Musas in monte locutas.'
'Then swear transported that the sacred Nine
Pronounced on Alba's top each hallowed line.'
FRANCIS. Horace, _Epis_. II. i. 26.]
'Though I can hope to add but little to the celebrity of so exalted a
character, by any communications I can furnish, yet out of pure respect
to his memory, I will venture to transmit to you some anecdotes
concerning him, which fell under my own observation. The very
_minutiae_. of such a character must be interesting, and may be compared
to the filings of diamonds.
'In politicks he was deemed a Tory, but certainly was not so in the
obnoxious or party sense of the term; for while he asserted the legal
and salutary prerogatives of the crown, he no less respected the
constitutional liberties of the people. Whiggism, at the time of the
Revolution, he said, was accompanied with certain principles; but
latterly, as a mere party distinction under Walpole[1] and the Pelhams
was no better than the politicks of stock-jobbers, and the religion of
infidels.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 131, where Boswell says that 'Johnson
afterwards honestly acknowledged the merit of Walpole.']
'He detested the idea of governing by parliamentary corruption, and
asserted most strenuously, that a prince steadily and conspicuously
pursuing the interests of his people, could not fail of parliamentary
concurrence. A prince of ability, he contended, might and should be the
directing soul and spirit of his own administration; in short, his own
minister, and not the mere head of a party: and then, and not till then,
would the royal dignity be sincerely respected.
'Johnson seemed to think, that a certain degree of crown influence over
the Houses of Parliament, (not meaning a corrupt and shameful
dependence,) was very salutary, nay, even necessary, in our mixed
government[1]. "For, (said he,) if the members were under no crown
influence, and disqualified from receiving any gratification from Court,
and resembled, as they possibly might, Pym and Haslerig, and other
stubborn and sturdy members of the long Parliament, the wheels of
government would be totally obstructed. Such men would oppose, merely to
shew their power, from envy, jealousy, and perversity of disposition;
and not gaining themselves, would hate and oppose all who did: not
loving the person of the prince, and conceiving they owed him little
gratitude, from the mere spirit of insolence and contradiction, they
would oppose and thwart him upon all occasions."
[Footnote 1: See _post_, May 15, 1783.]
'The inseparable imperfection annexed to all human governments
consisted, he said, in not being able to create a sufficient fund of
virtue and principle to carry the laws into due and effectual execution.
Wisdom might plan, but virtue alone could execute. And where could
sufficient virtue be found? A variety of delegated, and often
discretionary, powers must be entrusted somewhere; which, if not
governed by integrity and conscience, would necessarily be abused, till
at last the constable would sell his for a shilling.
'This excellent person was sometimes charged with abetting slavish and
arbitrary principles of government. Nothing in my opinion could be a
grosser calumny and misrepresentation; for how can it be rationally
supposed, that he should adopt such pernicious and absurd opinions, who
supported his philosophical character with so much dignity, was
extremely jealous of his personal liberty and independence, and could
not brook the smallest appearance of neglect or insult, even from the
highest personages?
'But let us view him in some instances of more familiar life.
'His general mode of life, during my acquaintance, seemed to be pretty
uniform. About twelve o'clock I commonly visited him, and frequently
found him in bed, or declaiming over his tea, which he drank very
plentifully. He generally had a levee of morning visitors, chiefly men
of letters[1]; Hawkesworth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton, Steevens,
Beauclerk, &c. &c., and sometimes learned ladies, particularly I
remember a French lady[2] of wit and fashion doing him the honour of a
visit. He seemed to me to be considered as a kind of publick oracle,
whom every body thought they had a right to visit and consult[3]; and
doubtless they were well rewarded. I never could discover how he found
time for his compositions[4]. He declaimed all the morning, then went to
dinner at a tavern, where he commonly staid late, and then drank his tea
at some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while, but seldom
took supper. I fancy he must have read and wrote chiefly in the night,
for I can scarcely recollect that he ever refused going with me to a
tavern, and he often went to Ranelagh[5], which he deemed a place of
innocent recreation.
[Footnote 1: 'His acquaintance was sought by persons of the first
eminence in literature; and his house, in respect of the conversations
there, became an academy.' Hawkins's _Johnson_, p. 329. See _ante_, i.
247, 350, note 3.]
[Footnote 2: Probably Madame de Boufflers. See _post_, under November
12, 1775.]
[Footnote 3: 'To talk in publick, to think in solitude, to read and
hear, to inquire and answer inquiries, is the business of a scholar.'
_Rasselas_, ch. viii. Miss Burney mentions an amusing instance of a
consultation by letter. 'The letter was dated from the Orkneys, and cost
Dr. Johnson eighteen pence. The writer, a clergyman, says he labours
under a most peculiar misfortune, for which he can give no account, and
which is that, though he very often writes letters to his friends and
others, he never gets any answers. He entreats, therefore, that Dr.
Johnson will take this into consideration, and explain to him to what so
strange a thing may be attributed.' Mme. D'Arblay's _Diary_, ii. 96.]
[Footnote 4: 'How he [Swift] spent the rest of his time, and how he
employed his hours of study, has been inquired with hopeless curiosity.
For who can give an account of another's studies? Swift was not likely
to admit any to his privacies, or to impart a minute account of his
business or his leisure.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 208.]
[Footnote 5: See _post_, March 31, 1772.]
'He frequently gave all the silver in his pocket to the poor, who
watched him, between his house and the tavern where he dined[1]. He
walked the streets at all hours, and said he was never robbed[2], for
the rogues knew he had little money, nor had the appearance of having
much.
[Footnote 1: 'He loved the poor,' says Mrs. Piozzi (_Anec_. p. 84), 'as
I never yet saw any one else do, with an earnest desire to make them
happy. "What signifies," says some one, "giving half-pence to common
beggars? they only lay it out in gin or tobacco." "And why should they
be denied such sweeteners of their existence?" says Johnson.' The harm
done by this indiscriminate charity had been pointed out by Fielding in
his _Covent Garden Journal_ for June 2, 1752. He took as the motto for
the paper:
'O bone, ne te
Frustrere, insanis et tu';
which he translates, 'My good friend, do not deceive thyself; for with
all thy charity thou also art a silly fellow.' 'Giving our money to
common beggars,' he describes as 'a kind of bounty that is a crime
against the public.' Fielding's _Works_, x. 77, ed. 1806. Johnson once
allowed (_post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's _Collection_) that 'one might
give away L500 a year to those that importune in the streets, and not do
any good.' See also _post_, Oct. 10, 1779.]
[Footnote 2: He was once attacked, though whether by robbers is not made
clear. See _post_, under Feb. 7, 1775.]
'Though the most accessible and communicative man alive; yet when he
suspected he was invited to be exhibited, he constantly spurned the
invitation.
'Two young women from Staffordshire visited him when I was present, to
consult him on the subject of Methodism, to which they were inclined.
"Come, (said he,) you pretty fools, dine with Maxwell and me at the
Mitre, and we will talk over that subject;" which they did, and after
dinner he took one of them upon his knee, and fondled her for half an
hour together.
'Upon a visit to me at a country lodging near Twickenham, he asked what
sort of society I had there. I told him, but indifferent; as they
chiefly consisted of opulent traders, retired from business. He said, he
never much liked that class of people; "For, Sir (said he,) they have
lost the civility of tradesmen, without acquiring the manners of
gentlemen[1]."
[Footnote 1: Perhaps it was this class of people which is described in
the following passage:--'It was never against people of coarse life that
his contempt was expressed, while poverty of sentiment in men who
considered themselves to be company _for the parlour_, as he called it,
was what he would not bear.' Piozzi's _Anec_. 215.]
'Johnson was much attached to London: he observed, that a man stored his
mind better there, than any where else; and that in remote situations a
man's body might be feasted, but his mind was starved, and his faculties
apt to degenerate, from want of exercise and competition. No place, (he
said,) cured a man's vanity or arrogance so well as London; for as no
man was either great or good _per se_, but as compared with others not
so good or great, he was sure to find in the metropolis many his equals,
and some his superiours. He observed, that a man in London was in less
danger of falling in love indiscreetly, than any where else; for there
the difficulty of deciding between the conflicting pretensions of a vast
variety of objects, kept him safe. He told me, that he had frequently
been offered country preferment, if he would consent to take orders[1];
but he could not leave the improved society of the capital, or consent
to exchange the exhilarating joys and splendid decorations of publick
life, for the obscurity, insipidity, and uniformity of remote
situations.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 320, for one such offer.]
'Speaking of Mr. Harte[1], Canon of Windsor, and writer of _The History
of Gustavus Adolphus_, he much commended him as a scholar, and a man of
the most companionable talents he had ever known. He said, the defects
in his history proceeded not from imbecility, but from foppery.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 163, note 1, and _post_, March 30, 1781.]
'He loved, he said, the old black letter books; they were rich in
matter, though their style was inelegant; wonderfully so, considering
how conversant the writers were with the best models of antiquity.
'Burton's _Anatomy of Melancholy_, he said, was the only book that ever
took him out of bed two hours sooner than he wished to rise.
'He frequently exhorted me to set about writing a History of Ireland,
and archly remarked, there had been some good Irish writers, and that
one Irishman might at least aspire to be equal to another. He had great
compassion for the miseries and distresses of the Irish nation,
particularly the Papists; and severely reprobated the barbarous
debilitating policy of the British government, which, he said, was the
most detestable mode of persecution. To a gentleman, who hinted such
policy might be necessary to support the authority of the English
government, he replied by saying, "Let the authority of the English
government perish, rather than be maintained by iniquity. Better would
it be to restrain the turbulence of the natives by the authority of the
sword, and to make them amenable to law and justice by an effectual and
vigorous police, than to grind them to powder by all manner of
disabilities and incapacities. Better (said he,) to hang or drown people
at once, than by an unrelenting persecution to beggar and starve
them.[1]" The moderation and humanity of the present times have, in some
measure, justified the wisdom of his observations.
[Footnote 1: Dr. T. Campbell, in his _Survey of the South of Ireland_,
ed. 1777 (_post_, April 5, 1775), says:--'By one law of the penal code,
if a Papist have a horse worth fifty, or five hundred pounds, a
Protestant may become the purchaser upon paying him down five. By
another of the same code, a son may say to his father, "Sir, if you
don't give me what money I want, I'll turn _discoverer_, and in spite of
you and my elder brother too, on whom at marriage you settled your
estate, I shall become heir,"' p. 251. Father O'Leary, in his _Remarks
on Wesley's Letter_, published in 1780 (_post_, _Hebrides_, Aug. 15,
1773), says (p. 41):--'He has seen the venerable matron, after
twenty-four years' marriage, banished from the perjured husband's house,
though it was proved in open court that for six months before his
marriage he went to mass. But the law requires that he should be a year
and a day of the same religion.' Burke wrote in 1792: 'The Castle [the
government in Dublin] considers the out-lawry (or what at least I look
on as such) of the great mass of the people as an unalterable maxim in
the government of Ireland.' _Burke's Corres_., iii. 378. See _post_, ii.
130, and May 7, 1773, and Oct. 12, 1779.]
'Dr. Johnson was often accused of prejudices, nay, antipathy, with
regard to the natives of Scotland. Surely, so illiberal a prejudice
never entered his mind: and it is well known, many natives of that
respectable country possessed a large share in his esteem; nor were any
of them ever excluded from his good offices, as far as opportunity
permitted. True it is, he considered the Scotch, nationally, as a
crafty, designing people, eagerly attentive to their own interest, and
too apt to overlook the claims and pretentions of other people. "While
they confine their benevolence, in a manner, exclusively to those of
their own country, they expect to share in the good offices of other
people. Now (said Johnson,) this principle is either right or wrong; if
right, we should do well to imitate such conduct; if wrong, we cannot
too much detest it."[1]
[Footnote 1: See post, just before Feb. 18, 1775.]
'Being solicited to compose a funeral sermon for the daughter of a
tradesman, he naturally enquired into the character of the deceased; and
being told she was remarkable for her humility and condescension to
inferiours, he observed, that those were very laudable qualities, but it
might not be so easy to discover who the lady's inferiours were.
'Of a certain player[1] he remarked, that his conversation usually
threatened and announced more than it performed; that he fed you with a
continual renovation of hope, to end in a constant succession of
disappointment.
[Footnote 1: 'Of Sheridan's writings on elocution, Johnson said, they
were a continual renovation of hope, and an unvaried succession of
disappointments.' Johnson's _Works_ (1787), xi. 197. See _post_, May 17,
1783.]
'When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat his opponents
with too much acrimony: as, "Sir, you don't see your way through that
question:"--"Sir, you talk the language of ignorance." On my observing
to him that a certain gentleman had remained silent the whole evening,
in the midst of a very brilliant and learned society, "Sir, (said he,)
the conversation overflowed, and drowned him."
'His philosophy, though austere and solemn, was by no means morose and
cynical, and never blunted the laudable sensibilities of his character,
or exempted him from the influence of the tender passions. Want of
tenderness, he always alledged, was want of parts, and was no less a
proof of stupidity than depravity.
'Speaking of Mr. Hanway, who published _An Eight Days' Journey from
London to Portsmouth_, "Jonas, (said he,) acquired some reputation by
travelling abroad[1], but lost it all by travelling at home.[2]"
[Footnote 1: In 1753, Jonas Hanway published his _Travels to Persia_.]
[Footnote 2: 'Though his journey was completed in eight days he gave a
relation of it in two octavo volumes.' Hawkins's _Johnson_, p. 352. See
_ante_, i. 313.]
'Of the passion of love he remarked, that its violence and ill effects
were much exaggerated; for who knows any real sufferings on that head,
more than from the exorbitancy of any other passion?
'He much commended _Law's Serious Call_, which he said was the finest
piece of hortatory theology in any language[1]. "Law, (said he,) fell
latterly into the reveries of Jacob Behmen[2], whom Law alledged to have
been somewhat in the same state with St. Paul, and to have seen
_unutterable things[3]--he would have resembled St. Paul still more, by
not attempting to utter them."
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 68, and _post_, June 9, 1784, note, where he
varies the epithet, calling it 'the best piece of _parenetic_
divinity.']
[Footnote 2: '"I taught myself," Law tells us, "the high Dutch language,
on purpose to know the original words of the blessed Jacob."' Overton's
_Life of Law_, p. 181. Behmen, or Boehme, the mystic shoemaker of
Gorlitz, was born in 1575, and died in 1624. 'His books may not hold at
all honourable places in libraries; his name may be ridiculous. But he
_was_ a generative thinker. What he knew he knew for himself. It was not
transmitted to him, but fought for.' F.D. Maurice's _Moral and Meta.
Phil._ ii. 325. Of Hudibras's squire, Ralph, it was said:
'He Anthroposophus, and Floud,
And Jacob Behmen understood.'
_Hudibras_, I. i. 541.
Wesley (_Journal_, i. 359) writes of Behmen's _Mysteriun Magnum_, 'I can
and must say thus much (and that with as full evidence as I can say two
and two make four) it is most sublime nonsense, inimitable bombast,
fustian not to be paralleled.']
[Footnote 3: 'He heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a
man to utter,' 2 Corinthians, xii. 4.]
'He observed, that the established clergy in general did not preach
plain enough; and that polished periods and glittering sentences flew
over the heads of the common people, without any impression upon their
hearts. Something might be necessary, he observed, to excite the
affections of the common people, who were sunk in languor and lethargy,
and therefore he supposed that the new concomitants of methodism might
probably produce so desirable an effect.[1] The mind, like the body, he
observed, delighted in change and novelty, and even in religion itself,
courted new appearances and modifications. Whatever might be thought of
some methodist teachers, he said, he could scarcely doubt the sincerity
of that man, who travelled nine hundred miles in a month, and preached
twelve times a week; for no adequate reward, merely temporal, could be
given for such indefatigable labour.[2]
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 458. In _Humphry Clinker_, in the Letter of
June 11, the turnkey of Clerkenwell Prison thus speaks of a
Methodist:--'I don't care if the devil had him; here has been nothing
but canting and praying since the fellow entered the place. Rabbit him!
the tap will be ruined--we han't sold a cask of beer nor a dozen of
wine, since he paid his garnish--the gentlemen get drunk with nothing
but your damned religion.']
[Footnote 2: 'John Wesley probably paid more for turnpikes than any
other man in England, for no other person travelled so much.' Southey's
_Wesley_, i. 407. 'He tells us himself, that he preached about 800
sermons in a year.' _Ib_ ii. 532. In one of his _Appeals to Men of
Reason and Religion_, he asks:--'Can you bear the summer sun to beat
upon your naked head? Can you suffer the wintry rain or wind, from
whatever quarter it blows? Are you able to stand in the open air,
without any covering or defence, when God casteth abroad his snow like
wool, or scattereth his hoar-frost like ashes? And yet these are some of
the smallest inconveniences which accompany field-preaching. For beyond
all these, are the contradiction of sinners, the scoffs both of the
great vulgar and the small; contempt and reproach of every kind--often
more than verbal affronts--stupid, brutal violence, sometimes to the
hazard of health, or limbs, or life. Brethren, do you envy us this
honour? What, I pray you, would buy you to be a field-preacher? Or
what, think you, could induce any man of common sense to continue
therein one year, unless he had a full conviction in himself that it was
the will of God concerning him?' Southey's _Wesley_, i. 405.]
'Of Dr. Priestley's theological works, he remarked, that they tended to
unsettle every thing, and yet settled nothing.
'He was much affected by the death of his mother, and wrote to me to
come and assist him to compose his mind, which indeed I found extremely
agitated. He lamented that all serious and religious conversation was
banished from the society of men, and yet great advantages might be
derived from it. All acknowledged, he said, what hardly any body
practised, the obligation we were under of making the concerns of
eternity the governing principles of our lives. Every man, he observed,
at last wishes for retreat: he sees his expectations frustrated in the
world, and begins to wean himself from it, and to prepare for
everlasting separation.
'He observed, that the influence of London now extended every where, and
that from all manner of communication being opened, there shortly would
be no remains of the ancient simplicity, or places of cheap retreat to
be found.
'He was no admirer of blank-verse, and said it always failed, unless
sustained by the dignity of the subject. In blank-verse, he said, the
language suffered more distortion, to keep it out of prose, than any
inconvenience or limitation to be apprehended from the shackles and
circumspection of rhyme[1].
[Footnote 1: Stockdale reported to Johnson, that Pope had told Lyttelton
that the reason why he had not translated Homer into blank verse was
'that he could translate it more easily into rhyme. "Sir," replied
Johnson, "when the Pope said that, he knew that he lied."' Stockdale's
_Memoirs_, ii. 44. In the _Life of Somervile_, Johnson says:--'If blank
verse be not tumid and gorgeous, it is crippled prose.' Johnson's
_Works_, viii. 95. See _post_ beginning of 1781.]
'He reproved me once for saying grace without mention of the name of our
LORD JESUS CHRIST, and hoped in future I would be more mindful of the
apostolical injunction[1].
[Footnote 1: _Ephesians_, v. 20.]
'He refused to go out of a room before me at Mr. Langton's house,
saying, he hoped he knew his rank better than to presume to take place
of a Doctor in Divinity. I mention such little anecdotes, merely to shew
the peculiar turn and habit of his mind.
'He used frequently to observe, that there was more to be endured than
enjoyed, in the general condition of human life; and frequently quoted
those lines of Dryden:
"Strange cozenage! none would live past years again,
Yet all hope pleasure from what still remain[1]."
For his part, he said, he never passed that week in his life which he
would wish to repeat, were an angel to make the proposal to him.
[Footnote 1: In the original--'Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain'
See _post_ June 12, 1784.]
'He was of opinion, that the English nation cultivated both their soil
and their reason better than any other people: but admitted that the
French, though not the highest, perhaps, in any department of
literature, yet in every department were very high[1]. Intellectual
pre-eminence, he observed, was the highest superiority; and that every
nation derived their highest reputation from the splendour and dignity
of their writers[2]. Voltaire, he said, was a good narrator, and that
his principal merit consisted in a happy selection and arrangement of
circumstances.
[Footnote 1: See _post_ under Aug 29, 1783, and Boswell's _Hebrides_ Oct
14, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: 'The chief glory of every people arises from its authours.'
Johnson's _Works_, v 49.]
'Speaking of the French novels, compared with Richardson's, he said,
they might be pretty baubles, but a wren was not an eagle.
'In a Latin conversation with the Pere Boscovitch, at the house of Mrs.
Cholmondeley, I heard him maintain the superiority of Sir Isaac Newton
over all foreign philosophers[1], with a dignity and eloquence that
surprized that learned foreigner[2]. It being observed to him, that a
rage for every thing English prevailed much in France after Lord
Chatham's glorious war, he said, he did not wonder at it, for that we
had drubbed those fellows into a proper reverence for us, and that their
national petulance required periodical chastisement.
[Footnote 1: In a Discourse by Sir William Jones, addressed to the
Asiatick Society [in Calcutta], Feb. 24, 1785, is the following
passage:--
'One of the most sagacious men in this age who continues, I hope, to
improve and adorn it, Samuel Johnson [he had been dead ten weeks],
remarked in my hearing, that if Newton had flourished in ancient Greece,
he would have been worshipped as a Divinity.' MALONE. Johnson, in _An
Account of an Attempt to ascertain the Longitude_ (_Works_, v, 299),
makes the supposed author say:--'I have lived till I am able to produce
in my favour the testimony of time, the inflexible enemy of false
hypotheses; the only testimony which it becomes human understanding to
oppose to the authority of Newton.']
[Footnote 2: Murphy (_Life_, p. 91) places the scene of such a
conversation in the house of the Bishop of Salisbury. 'Boscovitch,' he
writes, 'had a ready current flow of that flimsy phraseology with which
a priest may travel through Italy, Spain, and Germany. Johnson scorned
what he called colloquial barbarisms. It was his pride to speak his
best. He went on, after a little practice, with as much facility as if
it was his native tongue. One sentence this writer well remembers.
Observing that Fontenelle at first opposed the Newtonian philosophy, and
embraced it afterwards, his words were:--"Fontenellus, ni fallor, in
extrema senectute fuit transfuga ad castra Newtoniana."' See _post_,
under Nov. 12, 1775. Boscovitch, the Jesuit astronomer, was a professor
in the University of Pavia. When Dr. Burney visited him, 'he complained
very much of the silence of the English astronomers, who answer none of
his letters.' Burney's _Tour in France and Italy_, p. 92.]
'Lord Lyttelton's Dialogues, he deemed a nugatory performance. "That
man, (said he,) sat down to write a book, to tell the world what the
world had all his life been telling him[1]."
[Footnote 1: See _post_, in 1781, the _Life of Lyttelton_.]
'Somebody observing that the Scotch Highlanders, in the year 1745, had
made surprising efforts, considering their numerous wants and
disadvantages: "Yes, Sir, (said he,) their wants were numerous; but you
have not mentioned the greatest of them all,--the want of law."
'Speaking of the _inward light_, to which some methodists pretended, he
said, it was a principle utterly incompatible with social or civil
security. "If a man (said he,) pretends to a principle of action of
which I can know nothing, nay, not so much as that he has it, but only
that he pretends to it; how can I tell what that person may be prompted
to do? When a person professes to be governed by a written ascertained
law, I can then know where to find him."
'The poem of _Fingal_[1], he said, was a mere unconnected rhapsody, a
tiresome repetition of the same images. "In vain shall we look for the
_lucidus ordo_'[2], where there is neither end or object, design or
moral, _nec certa recurrit imago_."
[Footnote 1: The first of Macpherson's forgeries was _Fragments of
Ancient Poetry collected in the Highlands_. Edinburgh, 1760. In 1762, he
published in London, _The Works of Ossian, the son of Fingal_, 2 vols.
Vol. i. contained _Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem_, in six Books. See
_post_, Jan 1775.]
[Footnote 2: Horace, _Ars Poetica_, l. 41.]
'Being asked by a young nobleman, what was become of the gallantry and
military spirit of the old English nobility, he replied, "Why, my Lord,
I'll tell you what is become of it; it is gone into the city to look for
a fortune."
'Speaking of a dull tiresome fellow, whom he chanced to meet, he said,
"That fellow seems to me to possess but one idea, and that is a wrong
one."
'Much enquiry having been made concerning a gentleman, who had quitted a
company where Johnson was, and no information being obtained; at last
Johnson observed, that "he did not care to speak ill of any man behind
his back, but he believed the gentleman was an _attorney_[1]."
[Footnote 1: Perhaps Johnson had some ill-will towards attorneys, such
as he had towards excisemen (_ante_, i. 36, note 5 and 294). In
_London_, which was published in May, 1738, he couples them with street
robbers:
'Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay,
And here the fell attorney prowls for prey.'
_Works_, i. 1. In a paper in the _Gent. Mag_. for following June (p.
287), written, I have little doubt, by him, the profession is this
savagely attacked:--'Our ancestors, in ancient times, had some regard to
the moral character of the person sent to represent them in their
national assemblies, and would have shewn some degree of resentment or
indignation, had their votes been asked for murderer, an adulterer, a
know oppressor, an hireling evidence, an attorney, a gamester, or pimp.'
In the _Life of Blackmere_ (_Works_, viii. 36) he has a sly hit at the
profession. 'Sir Richard Blackmore was the son of Robert Blackmore,
styled by Wood gentleman, and supposed to have been an attorney.' We may
compare Goldsmith's lines in _Retaliation_:--'Then what was his failing?
come tell it, and burn ye,--
'He was, could he help it? a special attorney.'
See also _post_, under June 16, 1784.]
'He spoke with much contempt of the notice taken of Woodhouse, the
poetical shoemaker[1]. He said, it was all vanity and childishness: and
that such objects were, to those who patronised them, mere mirrours of
their own superiority. "They had better (said he,) furnish the man with
good implements for his trade, than raise subscriptions for his poems.
He may make an excellent shoemaker, but can never make a good poet. A
school-boy's exercise may be a pretty thing for a school-boy; but it is
no treat for a man."
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. Appendix F.]
'Speaking of Boetius, who was the favourite writer of the middle
ages[1], he said it was very surprizing, that upon such a subject, and
in such a situation, he should be _magis philosophius quam Christianus_.
[Footnote 1: Dr. Maxwell is perhaps here quoting the _Idler_, No. 69,
where Johnson, speaking of _Bioethics on the Confronts of Philosophy_,
calls it 'the book which seems to have been the favourite of the middle
ages.']
'Speaking of Arthur Murphy, whom he very much loved, "I don't know (said
he,) that Arthur can be classed with the very first dramatick writers;
yet at present I doubt much whether we have any thing superiour to
Arthur[1]."
[Footnote 1: Yet it is Murphy's tragedy of _Zenobia_ that Mrs. Piozzi
writes (_Anec_. p. 280):--'A gentleman carried Dr. Johnson his tragedy,
which because he loved the author, he took, and it lay about our rooms
some time. "Which answer did you give your friend, Sir?" said I, after
the book had been called for. "I told him," replied he, "that there was
too _Tig and Terry_ in it." Seeing me laugh most violently, "Why, what
would'st have, child?" said he. "I looked at nothing but the _dramatis_
[_personae_], and there was _Tigranes_ and _Tiridates_, or _Teribaeus_,
or such stuff. A man can tell but what he knows, and I never got any
further than the _first_ pages."' In _Zenobia_ two and Tigranes.]
'Speaking of the national debt, he said, it was an idle dream to suppose
that the country could sink under it. Let the public creditors be ever
so clamorous, the interest of millions must ever prevail over that of
thousands[1].
[Footnote 1: Hume was one who had this idle dream. Shortly before his
death one of his friends wrote:--'He still maintains that the national
debt must be the ruin of Britain; and laments that the two most
civilised nations, the English and French, should be on the decline; and
the barbarians, the Goths and Vandals of Germany and Russia, should be
rising in power and renown.' J. H. Burton's _Hume_, ii. 497.]
'Of Dr. Kennicott's Collations, he observed, that though the text should
not be much mended thereby, yet it was no small advantage to know, that
we had as good a text as the most consummate industry and diligence
could procure[1].
[Footnote 1: Hannah More was with Dr. Kennicott at his death. 'Thus
closed a life,' she wrote (_Memoirs_, i. 289), 'the last thirty years of
which were honourably spent in collating the Hebrew Scriptures.' See
also Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 16, 1773.]
'Johnson observed, that so many objections might be made to every thing,
that nothing could overcome them but the necessity of doing something.
No man would be of any profession, as simply opposed to not being of it:
but every one must do something.
'He remarked, that a London parish was a very comfortless thing; for the
clergyman seldom knew the face of one out of ten of his parishioners.
'Of the late Mr. Mallet he spoke with no great respect: said, he was
ready for any dirty job: that he had wrote against Byng at the
instigation of the ministry[1], and was equally ready to write for him,
provided he found his account in it.
[Footnote 1: Johnson (_Works_, viii. 467) says that Mallet, in return
for what he wrote against Byng, 'had a considerable pension bestowed
upon him, which he retained to his death.' See _ante_, i. 268.]
'A gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, married immediately
after his wife died: Johnson said, it was the triumph of hope over
experience.
'He observed, that a man of sense and education should meet a suitable
companion in a wife[1]. It was a miserable thing when the conversation
could only be such as, whether the mutton should be boiled or roasted,
and probably a dispute about that.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 76.]
'He did not approve of late marriages, observing that more was lost in
point of time, than compensated for by any possible advantages[1]. Even
ill assorted marriages were preferable to cheerless celibacy.
[Footnote 1: 'It is dangerous for a man and woman to suspend their fate
upon each other at a time when opinions are fixed, and habits are
established; when friendships have been contracted on both sides; when
life has been planned into method, and the mind has long enjoyed the
contemplation of its own prospects.' _Rasselas_, ch. xxix.]
'Of old Sheridan he remarked, that he neither wanted parts nor
literature; but that his vanity and Quixotism obscured his merits.
'He said, foppery was never cured; it was the bad stamina of the mind,
which, like those of the body, were never rectified: once a coxcomb, and
always a coxcomb.
'Being told that Gilbert Cowper called him the Caliban of literature;
"Well, (said he,) I must dub him the Punchinello[1]."
[Footnote 1: Malone records that 'Cooper was round and fat. Dr. Warton,
one day, when dining with Johnson, urged in his favour that he was, at
least, very well informed, and a good scholar. "Yes," said Johnson, "it
cannot be denied that he has good materials for playing the fool, and he
makes abundant use of them."' Prior's _Malone_, p. 428. See _post_,
Sept. 15, 1777, note.]
'Speaking of the old Earl of Corke and Orrery, he said, "that man spent
his life in catching at an object, [literary eminence,] which he had not
power to grasp[1]."
[Footnote 1: See _post_, Sept 21, 1777, and Boswell's _Hebrides_, Sept.
22, 1773. ]
'To find a substitution for violated morality, he said, was the leading
feature in all perversions of religion.'
'He often used to quote, with great pathos, those fine lines of Virgil:
'Optima quaeque dies miseris mortalibus aevi
Prima fugit[1]; subeunt morbi, tristisque senectus,
Et labor, et durae rapit inclementia mortis[2].'
[Footnote 1: But see _ante_, i. 299, where Johnson owned that his
happier days had come last.]
[Footnote 2:
'In youth alone unhappy mortals live,
But ah! the mighty bliss is fugitive;
Discolour'd sickness, anxious labours come,
And age, and death's inexorable doom.'
DRYDEN. Virgil, _Georgics_, iii. 66. In the first edition Dr. Maxwell's
_Collectanea_ ended here. What follows was given in the second edition
in _Additions received after the second edition was printed_, i. v.]
'Speaking of Homer, whom he venerated as the prince of poets, Johnson
remarked that the advice given to Diomed[1] by his father, when he sent
him to the Trojan war, was the noblest exhortation that could be
instanced in any heathen writer, and comprised in a single line:
[Greek: Aien aristeuein, kai hupeirochon emmenai allon ]
which, if I recollect well, is translated by Dr. Clarke thus: _semper
appetere praestantissima, et omnibus aliis antecellere_.
[Footnote 1: To Glaucus. Clarke's translation is:--'Ut semper fortissime
rem gererem, et superior virtute essem aliis.' _Iliad_, vi. 208.
Cowper's version is:--
'That I should outstrip always all mankind
In worth and valour.']
'He observed, "it was a most mortifying reflexion for any man to
consider, _what he had done_, compared with what _he might have done_."
'He said few people had intellectual resources sufficient to forego the
pleasures of wine. They could not otherwise contrive how to fill the
interval between dinner and supper.
'He went with me, one Sunday, to hear my old Master, Gregory Sharpe[1],
preach at the Temple. In the prefatory prayer, Sharpe ranted about
_Liberty_, as a blessing most fervently to be implored, and its
continuance prayed for. Johnson observed, that our _liberty_ was in no
sort of danger:--he would have done much better, to pray against our
_licentiousness_.
[Footnote 1: Maxwell calls him his old master, because Sharpe was Master
of the Temple when Maxwell was assistant preacher. CROKER.]
'One evening at Mrs. Montagu's, where a splendid company was assembled,
consisting of the most eminent literary characters, I thought he seemed
highly pleased with the respect and attention that were shewn him, and
asked him on our return home if he was not highly _gratified_ by his
visit: "No, Sir, (said he) not highly _gratified_; yet I do not
recollect to have passed many evenings _with fewer objections_."
'Though of no high extraction himself, he had much respect for birth and
family, especially among ladies. He said, "adventitious accomplishments
may be possessed by all ranks; but one may easily distinguish the _born
gentlewoman_."
'He said, "the poor in England[1] were better provided for, than in any
other country of the same extent: he did not mean little Cantons, or
petty Republicks. Where a great proportion of the people (said he,) are
suffered to languish in helpless misery, that country must be ill
policed, and wretchedly governed: a decent provision for the poor, is
the true test of civilization.--Gentlemen of education, he observed,
were pretty much the same in all countries; the condition of the lower
orders, the poor especially, was the true mark of national
discrimination."
[Footnote 1: Dr. T. Campbell, in his _Survey of the South of Ireland_,
p. 185, writes: 'In England the meanest cottager is better fed, better
lodged, and better dressed than the most opulent farmers here.' See
post, Oct. 19, 1779.]
'When the corn laws were in agitation in Ireland, by which that country
has been enabled not only to feed itself, but to export corn to a large
amount[1]; Sir Thomas Robinson[2] observed, that those laws might be
prejudicial to the corn-trade of England. "Sir Thomas, (said he,) you
talk the language of a savage: what, Sir? would you prevent any people
from feeding themselves, if by any honest means they can do it[3]."
[Footnote 1: In the vice-royalty of the Duke of Bedford, which began in
Dec. 1756, 'in order to encourage tillage a law was passed granting
bounties on the land carriage of corn and flour to the metropolis.'
Lecky's _Hist. of Eng_. ii. 435. In 1773-4 a law was passed granting
bounties upon the export of Irish corn to foreign countries. _Ib_ iv.
415.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 434.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, ii. 121. Lord Kames, in his _Sketches of the
History of Man_, published in 1774, says:--'In Ireland to this day goods
exported are loaded with a high duty, without even distinguishing made
work from raw materials; corn, for example, fish, butter, horned cattle,
leather, &c. And, that nothing may escape, all goods exported that are
not contained in the book of rates, pay five per cent, _ad valorem_.'
ii. 413. These export duties were selfishly levied in what was supposed
to be the interest of England.]
'It being mentioned, that Garrick assisted Dr. Brown, the authour of the
_Estimate_[1], in some dramatick composition, "No, Sir, (said Johnson,)
he would no more suffer Garrick to write a line in his play, than he
would suffer him to mount his pulpit."
[Footnote 1: 'At this time [1756] appeared Brown's _Estimate_, a book
now remembered only by the allusions in Cowper's _Table Talk_ [Cowper's
_Poems_, ed. 1786, i. 20] and in Burke's _Letters on a Regicide Peace_
[Payne's _Burke_, p. 9]. It was universally read, admired, and believed.
The author fully convinced his readers that they were a race of cowards
and scoundrels; that nothing could save them; that they were on the
point of being enslaved by their enemies, and that they richly deserved
their fate.' Macaulay's _Essays_, ii. 183. Dr. J.H. Burton says:--'Dr.
Brown's book is said to have run to a seventh edition in a few months.
It is rather singular that the edition marked as the seventh has
precisely the same matter in each page, and the same number of pages as
the first.' _Life of Hume_, ii. 23. Brown wrote two tragedies,
_Barbarossa_ and _Athelstan_, both of which Garrick brought out at Drury
Lane. In _Barbarossa_ Johnson observed 'that there were two
improprieties; in the first place, the use of a bell is unknown to the
Mahometans; and secondly, Otway had tolled a bell before Dr. Brown, and
we are not to be made April fools twice by the same trick.' Murphy's
_Garrick_, p. 173. Brown's vanity is shown in a letter to Garrick
(_Garrick Corres_. i. 220) written on Jan. 19, 1766, in which he talks
of going to St. Petersburg, and drawing up a System of Legislation for
the Russian Empire. In the following September, in a fit of madness, he
made away with himself.]
'Speaking of Burke, he said, "It was commonly observed, he spoke too
often in parliament; but nobody could say he did not speak well, though
too frequently and too familiarly[1]."
[Footnote 1: See _post_, May 8, 1781.]
'Speaking of economy, he remarked, it was hardly worth while to save
anxiously twenty pounds a year. If a man could save to that degree, so
as to enable him to assume a different rank in society, then indeed, it
might answer some purpose.
'He observed, a principal source of erroneous judgement was, viewing
things partially and only on _one side_: as for instance,
_fortune-hunters_, when they contemplated the fortunes _singly_ and
_separately_, it was a dazzling and tempting object; but when they came
to possess the wives and their fortunes _together_, they began to
suspect that they had not made quite so good a bargain.
'Speaking of the late Duke of Northumberland living very magnificently
when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, somebody remarked it would be difficult
to find a suitable successor to him: then exclaimed Johnson, _he is only
fit to succeed himself_[1].
[Footnote 1: Horace Walpole, writing in May, 1764, says:--'The Earl of
Northumberland returned from Ireland, where his profusion and
ostentation had been so great that it seemed to lay a dangerous
precedent for succeeding governors.' _Memoirs of the Reign of George
III_, i. 417. He was created Duke in 1766. For some pleasant anecdotes
about this nobleman and Goldsmith, see Goldsmith's _Misc. Works_, i. 66,
and Forster's _Goldsmith_, i. 379, and ii. 227.]
'He advised me, if possible, to have a good orchard. He knew, he said, a
clergyman of small income, who brought up a family very reputably which
he chiefly fed with apple dumplings.
'He said, he had known several good scholars among the Irish gentlemen;
but scarcely any of them correct in _quantity_. He extended the same
observation to Scotland.
'Speaking of a certain Prelate, who exerted himself very laudably in
building churches and parsonage-houses; "however, said he, I do not find
that he is esteemed a man of much professional learning, or a liberal
patron of it;--yet, it is well, where a man possesses any strong
positive excellence.--Few have all kinds of merit belonging to their
character. We must not examine matters too deeply--No, Sir, a _fallible
being will fail somewhere_."
'Talking of the Irish clergy, he said, Swift was a man of great parts,
and the instrument of much good to his country[1].--Berkeley was a
profound scholar, as well as a man of fine imagination; but Usher, he
said, was the great luminary of the Irish church; and a greater, he
added, no church could boast of; at least in modern times.
[Footnote 1: Johnson thus writes of him (_Works_, viii. 207):--'The
Archbishop of Dublin gave him at first some disturbance in the exercise
of his jurisdiction; but it was soon discovered that between prudence
and integrity he was seldom in the wrong; and that, when he was right,
his spirit did not easily yield to opposition.' He adds: 'He delivered
Ireland from plunder and oppression, and showed that wit confederated
with truth had such force as authority was unable to resist. He said
truly of himself that Ireland "was his debtor." It was from the time
when he first began to patronise the Irish, that they may date their
riches and prosperity.' _Ib_ p. 319. Pope, in his _Imitations of
Horace_, II. i. 221, says:--
'Let Ireland tell how wit upheld her cause,
Her trade supported, and supplied her laws;
And leave on Swift this grateful verse engraved,
"The rights a Court attacked, a poet saved."']
'We dined _tete a tete_ at the Mitre, as I was preparing to return to
Ireland, after an absence of many years. I regretted much leaving
London, where I had formed many agreeable connexions: "Sir, (said he,) I
don't wonder at it; no man, fond of letters, leaves London without
regret. But remember, Sir, you have seen and enjoyed a great deal;--you
have seen life in its highest decorations, and the world has nothing new
to exhibit. No man is so well qualifyed to leave publick life as he who
has long tried it and known it well. We are always hankering after
untried situations, and imagining greater felicity from them than they
can afford. No, Sir, knowledge and virtue may be acquired in all
countries, and your local consequence will make you some amends for the
intellectual gratifications you relinquish." Then he quoted the
following lines with great pathos:--
"He who has early known the pomps of state,
(For things unknown, 'tis ignorance to condemn;)
And after having viewed the gaudy bait,
Can boldly say, the trifle I contemn;
With such a one contented could I live,
Contented could I die[1];"--
[Footnote 1: These lines have been discovered by the author's second son
in the _London Magazine_ for July 1732, where they form part of a poem
on _Retirement_, copied, with some slight variations, from one of
Walsh's smaller poems, entitled _The Retirement_. They exhibit another
proof that Johnson retained in his memory fragments of neglected poetry.
In quoting verses of that description, he appears by a slight variation
to have sometimes given them a moral turn, and to have dexterously
adapted them to his own sentiments, where the original had a very
different tendency. In 1782, when he was at Brighthelmstone, he repeated
to Mr. Metcalfe, some verses, as very characteristic of a celebrated
historian [Gibbon]. They are found among some anonymous poems appended
to the second volume of a collection frequently printed by Lintot, under
the title of _Pope's Miscellanies_:--
'See how the wand'ring Danube flows,
Realms and religions parting;
A friend to all true Christian foes,
To Peter, Jack, and Martin.
Now Protestant, and Papist now,
Not constant long to either,
At length an infidel does grow,
And ends his journey neither.
Thus many a youth I've known set out,
Half Protestant, half Papist,
And rambling long the world about,
Turn infidel or atheist.'
MALONE. See _post_, 1780, in Mr. Langton's _Collection_, and Boswell's
_Hebrides_ Aug. 27, and Oct. 28, 1773.]
'He then took a most affecting leave of me; said, he knew, it was a
point of _duty_ that called me away. "We shall all be sorry to lose
you," said he: "_laudo tamen_[1]."'
[Footnote 1: Juvenal, _Sat_. iii. 1. 2.
'Yet still my calmer thoughts his
choice commend.'
Johnson's _London_, 1. 3.]
1771: AETAT. 62.--In 1771 he published another political pamphlet,
entitled _Thoughts on the late Transactions respecting Falkland's
Islands_[1], in which, upon materials furnished to him by ministry, and
upon general topicks expanded in his richest style, he successfully
endeavoured to persuade the nation that it was wise and laudable to
suffer the question of right to remain undecided, rather than involve
our country in another war. It has been suggested by some, with what
truth I shall not take upon me to decide, that he rated the consequence
of those islands to Great-Britain too low[2]. But however this may be,
every humane mind must surely applaud the earnestness with which he
averted the calamity of war; a calamity so dreadful, that it is
astonishing how civilised, nay, Christian nations, can deliberately
continue to renew it. His description of its miseries in this pamphlet,
is one of the finest pieces of eloquence in the English language[3].
Upon this occasion, too, we find Johnson lashing the party in opposition
with unbounded severity, and making the fullest use of what he ever
reckoned a most effectual argumentative instrument,--contempt[4]. His
character of their very able mysterious champion, JUNIUS, is executed
with all the force of his genius, and finished with the highest care. He
seems to have exulted in sallying forth to single combat against the
boasted and formidable hero, who bade defiance to 'principalities and
powers, and the rulers of this world.'[5]
[Footnote 1: It was published without the authors name.]
[Footnote 2: 'What have we acquired? What but ... an island thrown aside
from human use; ... an island which not the southern savages have
dignified with habitation.' _Works_, vi. 198.]
[Footnote 3: 'It is wonderful with what coolness and indifference the
greater part of mankind see war commenced. Those that hear of it at a
distance, or read of it in books, but have never presented its evils to
their minds, consider it as little more than a splendid game, a
proclamation, an army, a battle, and a triumph. Some, indeed, must
perish in the most successful field, but they die upon the bed of
honour, "resign their lives, amidst the joys of conquest, and, filled
with England's glory, smile in death." The life of a modern soldier is
ill-represented by heroic fiction. War has means of destruction more
formidable than the cannon and the sword.
Of the thousands and ten thousands that perished in our late contests
with France and Spain, a very small part ever felt the stroke of an
enemy; the rest languished in tents and ships, amidst damps and
putrefaction; pale, torpid, spiritless, and helpless; gasping and
groaning, unpitied among men made obdurate by long continuance of
hopeless misery; and were at last whelmed in pits, or heaved into the
ocean, without notice and without remembrance. By incommodious
encampments and unwholesome stations, where courage is useless, and
enterprise impracticable, fleets are silently dispeopled, and armies
sluggishly melted away.' _Works_, vi. 199.]
[Footnote 4: Johnson wrote of the Earl of Chatham:--'This surely is a
sufficient answer to the feudal gabble of a man who is every day
lessening that splendour of character which once illuminated the
kingdom, then dazzled, and afterwards inflamed it; and for whom it will
be happy if the nation shall at last dismiss him to nameless obscurity,
with that equipoise of blame and praise which Corneille allows to
Richelieu.' _Works_, vi. 197.]
[Footnote 5: _Ephesians_, vi. 12. Johnson (_Works_, vi. 198) calls
Junius 'one of the few writers of his despicable faction whose name does
not disgrace the page of an opponent.' But he thus ends his
attack;--'What, says Pope, must be the priest where a monkey is the god?
What must be the drudge of a party of which the heads are Wilkes and
Crosby, Sawbridge and Townsend?' _Ib_ p. 206.]
This pamphlet, it is observable, was softened in one particular, after
the first edition[1]; for the conclusion of Mr. George Grenville's
character stood thus: 'Let him not, however, be depreciated in his
grave. He had powers not universally possessed: could he have enforced
payment of the Manilla ransom, _he could have counted it_[2].' Which,
instead of retaining its sly sharp point, was reduced to a mere flat
unmeaning expression, or, if I may use the word,--_truism_: 'He had
powers not universally possessed: and if he sometimes erred, he was
likewise sometimes right.'
[Footnote 1: This softening was made in the later copies of the _first_
edition. A second change seems to have been made. In the text, as given
in Murphy's edition (1796, viii. 137), the last line of the passage
stands:--'If he was sometimes wrong, he was often right.' Horace Walpole
describes Grenville's 'plodding, methodic genius, which made him take
the spirit of detail for ability.' _Memoirs of the Reign of George III_,
i. 36. For the fine character that Burke drew of him see Payne's
_Burke_, i. 122. There is, I think, a hit at Lord Bute's Chancellor of
the Exchequer, Sir F. Dashwood (Lord Le Despencer), who was described as
'a man to whom a sum of five figures was an impenetrable secret.'
Walpole's _Memoirs of the Reign of George III_, i. 172, note. He himself
said, 'People will point at me, and cry, "there goes the worst
Chancellor of the Exchequer that ever appeared."' _Ib_ p. 250.]
[Footnote 2: Boswell, I suspect, quoted this passage from hearsay, for
originally it stood:--'If he could have got the money, he could have
counted it' (p. 68). In the British Museum there are copies of the first
edition both _softened_ and _unsoftened_.]
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'After much lingering of my own, and much of the ministry, I have at
length got out my paper[1]. But delay is not yet at an end: Not many had
been dispersed, before Lord North ordered the sale to stop. His reasons
I do not distinctly know. You may try to find them in the perusal[2].
Before his order, a sufficient number were dispersed to do all the
mischief, though, perhaps, not to make all the sport that might be
expected from it.
[Footnote 1: _Thoughts on the late Transactions respecting Falkland's
Islands_. BOSWELL.]
[Footnote 2: By comparing the first with the subsequent editions, this
curious circumstance of ministerial authorship may be discovered.
BOSWELL.]
'Soon after your departure, I had the pleasure of finding all the danger
past with which your navigation[1] was threatened. I hope nothing
happens at home to abate your satisfaction; but that Lady Rothes[2], and
Mrs. Langton, and the young ladies, are all well.
[Footnote 1: _Navigation_ was the common term for canals, which at that
time were getting rapidly made. A writer in _Notes and Queries_, 6th,
xi. 64, shows that Langton, as payment of a loan, undertook to pay
Johnson's servant, Frank, an annuity for life, secured on profits from
the _navigation_ of the River Wey in Surrey.]
[Footnote 2: It was, Mr. Chalmers told me, a saying about that time,
'Married a Countess Dowager of Rothes!' 'Why, everybody marries a
Countess Dowager of Rothes!' And there were in fact, about 1772, three
ladies of that name married to second husbands. CROKER. Mr. Langton
married one of these ladies.]
'I was last night at THE CLUB. Dr. Percy has written a long ballad[1] in
many _fits_; it is pretty enough. He has printed, and will soon publish
it. Goldsmith is at Bath, with Lord Clare[2]. At Mr. Thrale's, where I
am now writing, all are well. I am, dear Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 20, 1771.'
[Footnote 1: _The Hermit of Warkworth: A Ballad in three cantos._ T.
Davis, 25. 6d. Cradock (_Memoirs_, i. 207) quotes Johnson's parody on a
stanza in _The Hermit_:
'I put my hat upon my head,
And walked into the Strand,
And there I met another man
With his hat in his hand.'
'Mr. Garrick,' he continues, 'asked me whether I had seen Johnson's
criticism on the _Hermit_. "It is already," said he, "over half the
town."']
[Footnote 2: '"I am told," says a letter-writer of the day, "that Dr.
Goldsmith now generally lives with his countryman, Lord Clare, who has
lost his only son, Colonel Nugent."' Forster's _Goldsmith_, ii. 228.
'_The Haunch of Venison_ was written this year (1771), and appears to
have been written for Lord Clare alone; nor was it until two years after
the writer's death that it obtained a wider audience than his immediate
circle of friends.' _Ib_ p. 230. See _post_, April 17, 1778.]
Mr. Strahan[1], the printer, who had been long in intimacy with Johnson,
in the course of his literary labours, who was at once his friendly
agent in receiving his pension for him[2], and his banker in supplying
him with money when he wanted it; who was himself now a Member of
Parliament, and who loved much to be employed in political
negociation[3]; thought he should do eminent service both to government
and Johnson, if he could be the means of his getting a seat in the House
of Commons[4]. With this view, he wrote a letter to one of the
Secretaries of the Treasury, of which he gave me a copy in his own
hand-writing, which is as follows:--
[Footnote 1: Gibbon (_Misc. Works_, i. 222) mentions Mr. Strahan:--'I
agreed upon easy terms with Mr. Thomas Cadell, a respectable bookseller,
and Mr. William Strahan, an eminent printer, and they undertook the care
and risk of the publication [of the _Decline and Fall_], which derived
more credit from the name of the shop than from that of the author....
So moderate were our hopes, that the original impression had been
stinted to five hundred, till the number was doubled by the prophetic
taste of Mr. Strahan.' Hume, by his will, left to Strahan's care all his
manuscripts, 'trusting,' he says, 'to the friendship that has long
subsisted between us for his careful and faithful execution of my
intentions.' J. H. Burton's _Hume_, ii. 494. See _ib._ p. 512, for a
letter written to Hume on his death-bed by Strahan.]
[Footnote 2: Dr. Franklin, writing of the year 1773, says (_Memoirs_, i.
398):--'An acquaintance (Mr. Strahan, M.P.) calling on me, after having
just been at the Treasury, showed me what he styled _a pretty thing_,
for a friend of his; it was an order for L150, payable to Dr. Johnson,
said to be one half of his yearly pension.']
[Footnote 3: See _post_, July 27, 1778.]
[Footnote 4: Hawkins (_Life_, p. 513) says that Mr. Thrale made the same
attempt. 'He had two meetings with the ministry, who at first seemed
inclined to find Johnson a seat.' 'Lord Stowell told me,' says Mr.
Croker, 'that it was understood amongst Johnson's friends that Lord
North was afraid that Johnson's help (as he himself said of Lord
Chesterfield's) might have been sometimes _embarrassing_. "He perhaps
thought, and not unreasonably," added Lord Stowell, "that, like the
elephant in the battle, he was quite as likely to trample down his
friends as his foes."' Lord Stowell referred to Johnson's letter to
Chesterfield (_ante_, i. 262), in which he describes a patron as 'one
who encumbers a man with help.']
'SIR,
'You will easily recollect, when I had the honour of waiting upon you
some time ago, I took the liberty to observe to you, that Dr. Johnson
would make an excellent figure in the House of Commons, and heartily
wished he had a seat there. My reasons are briefly these:
'I know his perfect good affection to his Majesty, and his government,
which I am certain he wishes to support by every means in his power.
'He possesses a great share of manly, nervous, and ready eloquence; is
quick in discerning the strength and weakness of an argument; can
express himself with clearness and precision, and fears the face of no
man alive.
'His known character, as a man of extraordinary sense and unimpeached
virtue, would secure him the attention of the House, and could not fail
to give him a proper weight there.
'He is capable of the greatest application, and can undergo any degree
of labour, where he sees it necessary, and where his heart and
affections are strongly engaged. His Majesty's ministers might therefore
securely depend on his doing, upon every proper occasion, the utmost
that could be expected from him. They would find him ready to vindicate
such measures as tended to promote the stability of government, and
resolute and steady in carrying them into execution. Nor is any thing to
be apprehended from the supposed impetuosity of his temper. To the
friends of the King you will find him a lamb, to his enemies a lion.
'For these reasons, I humbly apprehend that he would be a very able and
useful member. And I will venture to say, the employment would not be
disagreeable to him; and knowing, as I do, his strong affection to the
King, his ability to serve him in that capacity, and the extreme ardour
with which I am convinced he would engage in that service, I must
repeat, that I wish most heartily to see him in the House.
'If you think this worthy of attention, you will be pleased to take a
convenient opportunity of mentioning it to Lord North. If his Lordship
should happily approve of it, I shall have the satisfaction of having
been, in some degree, the humble instrument of doing my country, in my
opinion, a very essential service. I know your good-nature, and your
zeal for the publick welfare, will plead my excuse for giving you this
trouble. I am, with the greatest respect, Sir,
'Your most obedient and humble servant,
'WILLIAM STRAHAN.'
'New-street,
March 30, 1771.'
This recommendation, we know, was not effectual; but how, or for what
reason, can only be conjectured. It is not to be believed that Mr.
Strahan would have applied, unless Johnson had approved of it. I never
heard him mention the subject; but at a later period of his life, when
Sir Joshua Reynolds told him that Mr. Edmund Burke had said, that if he
had come early into parliament, he certainly would have been the
greatest speaker that ever was there, Johnson exclaimed, 'I should like
to try my hand now.'
It has been much agitated among his friends and others, whether he would
have been a powerful speaker in Parliament, had he been brought in when
advanced in life. I am inclined to think that his extensive knowledge,
his quickness and force of mind, his vivacity and richness of
expression, his wit and humour, and above all his poignancy of sarcasm,
would have had great effect in a popular assembly; and that the
magnitude of his figure, and striking peculiarity of his manner, would
have aided the effect. But I remember it was observed by Mr. Flood, that
Johnson, having been long used to sententious brevity and the short
flights of conversation, might have failed in that continued and
expanded kind of argument, which is requisite in stating complicated
matters in publick speaking; and as a proof of this he mentioned the
supposed speeches in Parliament written by him for the magazine, none of
which, in his opinion, were at all like real debates. The opinion of one
who was himself so eminent an orator, must be allowed to have great
weight. It was confirmed by Sir William Scott, who mentioned that
Johnson had told him that he had several times tried to speak in the
Society of Arts and Sciences, but 'had found he could not get on.' From
Mr. William Gerrard Hamilton I have heard that Johnson, when observing
to him that it was prudent for a man who had not been accustomed to
speak in publick, to begin his speech in as simple a manner as possible,
acknowledged that he rose in that society to deliver a speech which he
had prepared; 'but (said he), all my flowers of oratory forsook me.' I
however cannot help wishing, that he _had_ 'tried his hand' in
Parliament; and I wonder that ministry did not make the experiment.
I at length renewed a correspondence which had been too long
discontinued:--
'To DR. JOHNSON.
'Edinburgh, April 18, 1771.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'I can now fully understand those intervals of silence in your
correspondence with me, which have often given me anxiety and
uneasiness; for although I am conscious that my veneration and love for
Mr. Johnson have never in the least abated, yet I have deferred for
almost a year and a half to write to him.'
In the subsequent part of this letter, I gave him an account of my
comfortable life as a married man[1], and a lawyer in practice at the
Scotch bar; invited him to Scotland, and promised to attend him to the
Highlands, and Hebrides.
[Footnote 1: Boswell married his cousin Margaret Montgomerie on Nov. 25,
1769. On the same day his father married for the second time. _Scots
Mag._ for 1769, p. 615. Boswell, in his _Letter to the People of
Scotland_ (p. 55), published in 1785, describes his wife as 'a true
_Montgomerie_, whom I esteem, whom I love, after fifteen years, as on
the day when she gave me her hand.' See his _Hebrides_, Aug. 14, 1773.]
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'If you are now able to comprehend that I might neglect to write without
diminution of affection, you have taught me, likewise, how that neglect
may be uneasily felt without resentment. I wished for your letter a long
time, and when it came, it amply recompensed the delay. I never was so
much pleased as now with your account of yourself; and sincerely hope,
that between publick business, improving studies, and domestick
pleasures, neither melancholy nor caprice will find any place for
entrance. Whatever philosophy may determine of material nature, it is
certainly true of intellectual nature, that it _abhors a vacuum_: our
minds cannot be empty; and evil will break in upon them, if they are not
pre-occupied by good. My dear Sir, mind your studies, mind your
business, make your lady happy, and be a good Christian. After this,
'tristitiam et metus
Trades protervis in mare Creticum
Portare ventis[1].'
[Footnote 1:
'Musis amicus, tristitiam et metus
Tradam, &c.
While in the Muse's friendship blest,
Nor fear, nor grief, shall break my rest;
Bear them, ye vagrant winds, away,
And drown them in the Cretan Sea.'
FRANCIS. Horace, _Odes_, i. 26. I.]
'If we perform our duty, we shall be safe and steady, "_Sive per_[1],"
&c., whether we climb the Highlands, or are tost among the Hebrides; and
I hope the time will come when we may try our powers both with cliffs
and water. I see but little of Lord Elibank[2], I know not why; perhaps
by my own fault. I am this day going into Staffordshire and Derbyshire
for six weeks[3].
[Footnote 1: Horace. _Odes_, i. 22. 5.]
[Footnote 2: Lord Elibank wrote to Boswell two years later:--'Old as I
am, I shall be glad to go five hundred miles to enjoy a day of Mr.
Johnson's company.' Boswell's _Hebrides_ under date of Sept. 12, 1773.
See _ib._ Nov. 10, and _post_, April 5, 1776.]
[Footnote 3: Goldsmith wrote to Langton on Sept. 7, 1771:--'Johnson has
been down upon a visit to a country parson, Doctor Taylor, and is
returned to his old haunts at Mrs. Thrale's.' Goldsmith's _Misc. Works_,
i. 93.]
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most affectionate,
'And most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, June 20, 1771.'
'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, IN LEICESTER-FIELDS.
'DEAR SIR,
'When I came to Lichfield, I found that my portrait[1] had been much
visited, and much admired. Every man has a lurking wish to appear
considerable in his native place; and I was pleased with the dignity
conferred by such a testimony of your regard.
[Footnote 1: While Miss Burney was examining a likeness of Johnson, 'he
no sooner discerned it than he began see-sawing for a moment or two in
silence; and then, with a ludicrous half-laugh, peeping over her
shoulder, he called out:--"Ah, ha! Sam Johnson! I see thee!--and an ugly
dog thou art!"' _Memoirs of Dr. Burney_, ii. 180. In another passage (p.
197), after describing 'the kindness that irradiated his austere and
studious features into the most pleased and pleasing benignity,' as he
welcomed her and her father to his house, she adds that a lady who was
present often exclaimed, 'Why did not Sir Joshua Reynolds paint Dr.
Johnson when he was speaking to Dr. Burney or to you?']
'Be pleased, therefore, to accept the thanks of, Sir, your most obliged
'And most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Ashbourn in Derbyshire,
July 17, 1771.
'Compliments to Miss Reynolds,'
'To DR. JOHNSON.
'Edinburgh, July 27, 1771.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'The bearer of this, Mr. Beattie[1], Professor of Moral Philosophy at
Aberdeen, is desirous of being introduced to your acquaintance.
[Footnote 1: 'Johnson,' wrote Beattie from London on Sept. 8 of this
year, 'has been greatly misrepresented. I have passed several entire
days with him, and found him extremely agreeable.' Beattie's _Life_, ed.
1824, p. 120.]
'His genius and learning, and labours in the service of virtue and
religion, render him very worthy of it; and as he has a high esteem of
your character, I hope you will give him a favourable reception. I ever
am, &c.
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., AT LANGTON, NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
'DEAR SIR,
'I am lately returned from Staffordshire and Derbyshire. The last letter
mentions two others which you have written to me since you received my
pamphlet. Of these two I never had but one, in which you mentioned a
design of visiting Scotland, and, by consequence, put my journey to
Langton out of my thoughts. My summer wanderings are now over, and I am
engaging in a very great work, the revision of my Dictionary[1]; from
which I know not, at present, how to get loose.
[Footnote 1: He was preparing the fourth edition, See _post, March 23,
1772.]
'If you have observed, or been told, any errours or omissions, you will
do me a great favour by letting me know them.
'Lady Rothes, I find, has disappointed you and herself. Ladies will have
these tricks. The Queen and Mrs. Thrale, both ladies of experience, yet
both missed their reckoning this summer. I hope, a few months will
recompence your uneasiness.
'Please to tell Lady Rothes how highly I value the honour of her
invitation, which it is my purpose to obey as soon as I have disengaged
myself. In the mean time I shall hope to hear often of her Ladyship, and
every day better news and better, till I hear that you have both the
happiness, which to both is very sincerely wished, by, Sir,
'Your most affectionate, and
'Most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'August 29, 1771.'
In October I again wrote to him, thanking him for his last letter, and
his obliging reception of Mr. Beattie; informing him that I had been at
Alnwick lately, and had good accounts of him from Dr. Percy.
In his religious record of this year, we observe that he was better than
usual, both in body and mind, and better satisfied with the regularity
of his conduct[1]. But he is still 'trying his ways'[2] too rigorously.
He charges himself with not rising early enough; yet he mentions what
was surely a sufficient excuse for this, supposing it to be a duty
seriously required, as he all his life appears to have thought it. 'One
great hindrance is want of rest; my nocturnal complaints grow less
troublesome towards morning; and I am tempted to repair the deficiencies
of the night[3].' Alas! how hard would it be if this indulgence were to
be imputed to a sick man as a crime. In his retrospect on the following
Easter-Eve, he says, 'When I review the last year, I am able to
recollect so little done, that shame and sorrow, though perhaps too
weakly, come upon me.' Had he been judging of any one else in the same
circumstances, how clear would he have been on the favourable side. How
very difficult, and in my opinion almost constitutionally impossible it
was for him to be raised early, even by the strongest resolutions,
appears from a note in one of his little paper-books, (containing words
arranged for his _Dictionary_,) written, I suppose, about 1753: 'I do
not remember that since I left Oxford I ever rose early by mere choice,
but once or twice at Edial, and two or three times for the _Rambler_.' I
think he had fair ground enough to have quieted his mind on this
subject, by concluding that he was physically incapable of what is at
best but a commodious regulation.
[Footnote 1: 'Sept. 18, 1771, 9 at night. I am now come to my
sixty-third year. For the last year I have been slowly recovering both
from the violence of my last illness, and, I think, from the general
disease of my life: ... some advances I hope have been made towards
regularity. I have missed church since Easter only two Sundays.... But
indolence and indifference has [sic] been neither conquered nor
opposed.' _Pr. and Med._ p. 104.]
[Footnote 2: 'Let us search and try our ways.' _Lamentations_ iii. 40.]
[Footnote 3: _Pr. and Med._ p. 101 [105]. BOSWELL.]
In 1772 he was altogether quiescent as an authour[1]; but it will be
found from the various evidences which I shall bring together that his
mind was acute, lively, and vigorous.
[Footnote 1: Boswell forgets the fourth edition of his _Dictionary_.
Johnson, in Aug. 1771 (_ante_, p. 142), wrote to Langton:--'I am
engaging in a very great work, the revision of my _Dictionary_.' In _Pr.
and Med._ p. 123, at Easter, 1773, as he 'reviews the last year,' he
records:--'Of the spring and summer I remember that I was able in those
seasons to examine and improve my _Dictionary_, and was seldom withheld
from the work but by my own unwillingness.']
'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
'DEAR SIR,
'Be pleased to send to Mr. Banks, whose place of residence I do not
know, this note, which I have sent open, that, if you please, you may
read it.
'When you send it, do not use your own seal.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Feb. 27, 1772.'
'To JOSEPH BANKS, ESQ.
'Perpetua ambita his terra praemia lactis
Hac habet altrici Capra secunda Jovis[1].'
[Footnote 1: Thus translated by a friend:--
'In fame scarce second to the nurse of Jove,
This Goat, who twice the world had traversed round,
Deserving both her masters care and love,
Ease and perpetual pasture now has found.'
BOSWELL.]
'Sir,
'I return thanks to you and to Dr. Solander for the pleasure which I
received in yesterday's conversation. I could not recollect a motto for
your Goat, but have given her one. You, Sir, may perhaps have an epick
poem from some happier pen than, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,
February 27, 1772.'
'To DR. JOHNSON.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'It is hard that I cannot prevail on you to write to me oftener. But I
am convinced that it is in vain to expect from you a private
correspondence with any regularity. I must, therefore, look upon you as
a fountain of wisdom, from whence few rills are communicated to a
distance, and which must be approached at its source, to partake fully
of its virtues.
* * * * *
'I am coming to London soon, and am to appear in an appeal from the
Court of Session in the House of Lords. A schoolmaster in Scotland was,
by a court of inferiour jurisdiction, deprived of his office, for being
somewhat severe in the chastisement of his scholars[1]. The Court of
Session, considering it to be dangerous to the interest of learning and
education, to lessen the dignity of teachers, and make them afraid of
too indulgent parents, instigated by the complaints of their children,
restored him. His enemies have appealed to the House of Lords, though
the salary is only twenty pounds a year. I was Counsel for him here. I
hope there will be little fear of a reversal; but I must beg to have
your aid in my plan of supporting the decree. It is a general question,
and not a point of particular law.
[Footnote 1: Cockburn (_Life of Jeffrey_, i. 4) says that the High
School of Edinburgh, in 1781, 'was cursed by two under master, whose
atrocities young men cannot be made to believe, but old men cannot
forget, and the criminal law would not now endure.']
* * * * *
'I am, &c.,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'That you are coming so soon to town I am very glad; and still more glad
that you are coming as an advocate. I think nothing more likely to make
your life pass happily away, than that consciousness of your own value,
which eminence in your profession will certainly confer. If I can give
you any collateral help, I hope you do not suspect that it will be
wanting. My kindness for you has neither the merit of singular virtue,
nor the reproach of singular prejudice. Whether to love you be right or
wrong, I have many on my side: Mrs. Thrale loves you, and Mrs. Williams
loves you, and what would have inclined me to love you, if I had been
neutral before, you are a great favourite of Dr. Beattie.
'Of Dr. Beattie I should have thought much, but that his lady puts him
out of my head; she is a very lovely woman.
'The ejection which you come hither to oppose, appears very cruel,
unreasonable, and oppressive. I should think there could not be much
doubt of your success.
'My health grows better, yet I am not fully recovered. I believe it is
held, that men do not recover very fast after threescore. I hope yet to
see Beattie's College: and have not given up the western voyage. But
however all this may be or not, let us try to make each other happy when
we meet, and not refer our pleasure to distant times or distant places.
'How comes it that you tell me nothing of your lady? I hope to see her
some time, and till then shall be glad to hear of her.
'I am, dear Sir, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 15, 1772.'
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ., NEAR SPILSBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
'DEAR SIR,
'I congratulate you and Lady Rothes[1] on your little man, and hope you
will all be many years happy together.
[Footnote 1: Mr. Langton married the Countess Dowager of Rothes.
BOSWELL.]
'Poor Miss Langton can have little part in the joy of her family. She
this day called her aunt Langton to receive the sacrament with her; and
made me talk yesterday on such subjects as suit her condition. It will
probably be her _viaticum_. I surely need not mention again that she
wishes to see her mother. I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 14, 1772.'
On the 21st of March, I was happy to find myself again in my friend's
study, and was glad to see my old acquaintance, Mr. Francis Barber, who
was now returned home[1]. Dr. Johnson received me with a hearty welcome;
saying, 'I am glad you are come, and glad you are come upon such an
errand:' (alluding to the cause of the schoolmaster.) BOSWELL. 'I hope,
Sir, he will be in no danger. It is a very delicate matter to interfere
between a master and his scholars: nor do I see how you can fix the
degree of severity that a master may use.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, till you
can fix the degree of obstinacy and negligence of the scholars, you
cannot fix the degree of severity of the master. Severity must be
continued until obstinacy be subdued, and negligence be cured.' He
mentioned the severity of Hunter, his own Master[2]. 'Sir, (said I,)
Hunter is a Scotch name: so it should seem this schoolmaster who beat
you so severely was a Scotchman. I can now account for your prejudice
against the Scotch.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, he was not Scotch; and abating his
brutality, he was a very good master[3].'
[Footnote 1: From school. See _ante_, ii. 62.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 44.]
[Footnote 3: Johnson used to say that schoolmasters were worse than the
Egyptian task-masters of old. 'No boy,' says he, 'is sure any day he
goes to school to escape a whipping. How can the schoolmaster tell what
the boy has really forgotten, and what he has neglected to learn?'
Johnson's _Works_ (1787), xi. 209. 'I rejoice,' writes J. S. Mill
(_Auto._ p. 53), 'in the decline of the old, brutal, and tyrannical
system of teaching, which, however, did succeed in enforcing habits of
application; but the new, as it seems to me, is training up a race of
men who be incapable of doing anything which is disagreeable to them.']
We talked of his two political pamphlets, _The False Alarm_, and
_Thoughts concerning Falkland's Islands_. JOHNSON. 'Well, Sir, which of
them did you think the best?' BOSWELL. 'I liked the second best.'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I liked the first best; and Beattie liked the first
best. Sir, there is a subtlety of disquisition in the first, that is
worth all the fire of the second.' BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, is it true that
Lord North paid you a visit, and that you got two hundred a year in
addition to your pension?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. Except what I had from the
bookseller, I did not get a farthing by them[1]. And, between you and
me, I believe Lord North is no friend to me.' BOSWELL. 'How so, Sir?'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you cannot account for the fancies of men. Well, how
does Lord Elibank? and how does Lord Monboddo?' BOSWELL. 'Very well,
Sir. Lord Monboddo still maintains the superiority of the savage
life[2].' JOHNSON. 'What strange narrowness of mind now is that, to
think the things we have not known, are better than the things which we
have known.' BOSWELL. 'Why, Sir, that is a common prejudice.' JOHNSON.
'Yes, Sir, but a common prejudice should not be found in one whose trade
it is to rectify errour.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 373.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, ii. 74.]
A gentleman having come in who was to go as a mate in the ship along
with Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, Dr. Johnson asked what were the names
of the ships destined for the expedition. The gentleman answered, they
were once to be called the Drake and the Ralegh, but now they were to be
called the Resolution and the Adventure[1]. JOHNSON. 'Much better; for
had the Ralegh[2] returned without going round the world, it would have
been ridiculous. To give them the names of the Drake and the Ralegh was
laying a trap for satire.' BOSWELL. 'Had not you some desire to go upon
this expedition, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, but I soon laid it aside. Sir,
there is very little of intellectual, in the course. Besides, I see but
at a small distance. So it was not worth my while to go to see birds
fly, which I should not have seen fly; and fishes swim, which I should
not have seen swim.'
[Footnote 1: The ship in which Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander were to have
sailed was the Endeavour. It was, they said, unfit for the voyage. The
Admiralty altered it in such a way as to render it top-heavy. It was
nearly overset on going down the river. Then it was rendered safe by
restoring it to its former condition. When the explorers raised their
former objections, they were told to take it or none. _Ann. Reg._ xv.
108. See also Boswell's _Hebrides_, Oct. 18, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: I suspect that _Raleigh_ is here an error of Mr. Boswell's
pen for _Drake_. CROKER. Johnson had written Drake's _Life_, and
therefore must have had it well in mind that it was Drake who went round
the world.]
The gentleman being gone, and Dr. Johnson having left the room for some
time, a debate arose between the Reverend Mr. Stockdale and Mrs.
Desmoulins, whether Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander were entitled to any
share of glory from their expedition. When Dr. Johnson returned to us, I
told him the subject of their dispute. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it was
properly for botany that they went out: I believe they thought only of
culling of simples[1].'
[Footnote 1: _Romeo and Juliet_, act v. sc. 1.]
I thanked him for showing civilities to Beattie. 'Sir, (said he,) I
should thank _you_. We all love Beattie. Mrs. Thrale says, if ever she
has another husband, she'll have Beattie. He sunk upon us[1] that he was
married; else we should have shewn his lady more civilities. She is a
very fine woman. But how can you shew civilities to a non-entity? I did
not think he had been married. Nay, I did not think about it one way or
other; but he did not tell us of his lady till late.'
[Footnote 1:
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'_Edinburgh_, May 3, 1792.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'As I suppose your great work will soon be reprinted, I beg leave to
trouble you with a remark on a passage of it, in which I am a little
misrepresented. Be not alarmed; the misrepresentation is not imputable
to you. Not having the book at hand, I cannot specify the page, but I
suppose you will easily find it. Dr. Johnson says, speaking of Mrs.
Thrale's family, "Dr. Beattie _sunk upon us_ that he was married, or
words to that purpose." I am not sure that I understand _sunk upon us_,
which is a very uncommon phrase, but it seems to me to imply, (and
others, I find, have understood it in the same sense,) _studiously
concealed from us his being married_. Now, Sir, this was by no means the
case. I could have no motive to conceal a circumstance, of which I never
was nor can be ashamed; and of which Dr. Johnson seemed to think, when
he afterwards became acquainted with Mrs. Beattie, that I had, as was
true, reason to be proud. So far was I from concealing her, that my wife
had at that time almost as numerous an acquaintance in London as I had
myself; and was, not very long after, kindly invited and elegantly
entertained at Streatham by Mr. and Mrs. Thrale.
'My request, therefore, is, that you would rectify this matter in your
new edition. You are at liberty to make what use you please of this
letter.
'My best wishes ever attend you and your family. Believe me to be, with
the utmost regard and esteem, dear Sir,
'Your obliged and affectionate humble servant, J. BEATTIE.'
I have, from my respect for my friend Dr. Beattie, and regard to his
extreme sensibility, inserted the foregoing letter, though I cannot but
wonder at his considering as any imputation a phrase commonly used among
the best friends. BOSWELL. Mr. Croker says there was a cause for the
'extreme sensibility.' 'Dr. Beattie was conscious that there was
something that might give a colour to such an imputation. It became
known, shortly after the date of this letter, that the mind of Mrs.
Beattie had become deranged.' Beattie would have found in Johnson's
_Dictionary_ an explanation of _sunk upon us_--'_To sink. To suppress;
to conceal._ "If sent with ready money to buy anything, and you happen
to be out of pocket, _sink_ the money and take up the goods on
account."' Swift's _Rules to Servants_, _Works_, viii. 256.]
He then spoke of St. Kilda[1], the most remote of the Hebrides. I told
him, I thought of buying it. JOHNSON. 'Pray do, Sir. We will go and pass
a winter amid the blasts there. We shall have fine fish, and we will
take some dried tongues with us, and some books. We will have a strong
built vessel, and some Orkney men to navigate her. We must build a
tolerable house: but we may carry with us a wooden house ready made, and
requiring nothing but to be put up. Consider, Sir, by buying St. Kilda,
you may keep the people from falling into worse hands. We must give them
a clergyman, and he shall be one of Beattie's choosing. He shall be
educated at Marischal College. I'll be your Lord Chancellor, or what you
please.' BOSWELL. 'Are you serious, Sir, in advising me to buy St.
Kilda? for if you should advise me to go to Japan, I believe I should do
it.' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir, I am serious.' BOSWELL. 'Why then, I'll see
what can be done.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i 450.]
I gave him an account of the two parties in the Church of Scotland,
those for supporting the rights of patrons, independent of the people,
and those against it. JOHNSON. 'It should be settled one way or other. I
cannot wish well to a popular election of the clergy, when I consider
that it occasions such animosities, such unworthy courting of the
people, such slanders between the contending parties, and other
disadvantages. It is enough to allow the people to remonstrate against
the nomination of a minister for solid reasons.' (I suppose he meant
heresy or immorality.)
He was engaged to dine abroad, and asked me to return to him in the
evening, at nine, which I accordingly did.
We drank tea with Mrs. Williams, who told us a story of second sight[1],
which happened in Wales where she was born. He listened to it very
attentively, and said he should be glad to have some instances of that
faculty well authenticated. His elevated wish for more and more evidence
for spirit[2], in opposition to the groveling belief of materialism, led
him to a love of such mysterious disquisitions. He again[3] justly
observed, that we could have no certainty of the truth of supernatural
appearances, unless something was told us which we could not know by
ordinary means, or something done which could not be done but by
supernatural power; that Pharaoh in reason and justice required such
evidence from Moses; nay, that our Saviour said, 'If I had not done
among them the works which none other man did, they had not had sin[4].'
He had said in the morning, that Macaulay's _History of St. Kilda_, was
very well written, except some foppery about liberty and slavery. I
mentioned to him that Macaulay told me, he was advised to leave out of
his book the wonderful story that upon the approach of a stranger all
the inhabitants catch cold[5]; but that it had been so well
authenticated, he determined to retain it. JOHNSON. 'Sir, to leave
things out of a book, merely because people tell you they will not be
believed, is meanness. Macaulay acted with more magnanimity.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 10.]
[Footnote 2: See _Post_, April 15, 1778, note, and June 12, 1784.]
[Footnote 3: See ante, i. 405.]
[Footnote 4: _St. John_, xv. 24]
[Footnote 5: See note, p. 51 of this volume. BOSWELL.]
We talked of the Roman Catholick religion, and how little difference
there was in essential matters between ours and it. JOHNSON. 'True, Sir;
all denominations of Christians have really little difference in point
of doctrine, though they may differ widely in external forms. There is a
prodigious difference between the external form of one of your
Presbyterian churches in Scotland, and a church in Italy; yet the
doctrine taught is essentially the same[1].'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 105.]
I mentioned the petition to Parliament for removing the subscription to
the Thirty-nine Articles[1]. JOHNSON. 'It was soon thrown out. Sir, they
talk of not making boys at the University subscribe to what they do not
understand[2]; but they ought to consider, that our Universities were
founded to bring up members for the Church of England, and we must not
supply our enemies with arms from our arsenal. No, Sir, the meaning of
subscribing is, not that they fully understand all the articles, but
that they will adhere to the Church of England[3]. Now take it in this
way, and suppose that they should only subscribe their adherence to the
Church of England, there would be still the same difficulty; for still
the young men would be subscribing to what they do not understand. For
if you should ask them, what do you mean by the Church of England? Do
you know in what it differs from the Presbyterian Church? from the
Romish Church? from the Greek Church? from the Coptick Church? they
could not tell you. So, Sir, it comes to the same thing.' BOSWELL. 'But,
would it not be sufficient to subscribe the Bible[4]?' JOHNSON. 'Why no,
Sir; for all sects will subscribe the Bible; nay, the Mahometans will
subscribe the Bible; for the Mahometans acknowledge JESUS CHRIST, as
well as Moses, but maintain that GOD sent Mahomet as a still greater
prophet than either.'
[Footnote 1: The petition was presented on Feb. 6 of this year. By a
majority thrown of 217 to 71 leave was refused for it to be brought up.
_Parl. Hist._ xvii. 245-297. Gibbon, in a letter dated Feb. 8, 1772
(_Misc. Works_, ii. 74), congratulates Mr. Holroyd 'on the late victory
of our dear mamma, the Church of England. She had, last Thursday, 71
rebellious sons, who pretended to set aside her will on account of
insanity; but 217 worthy champions, headed by Lord North, Burke, and
Charles Fox, though they allowed the thirty-nine clauses of her
testament were absurd and unreasonable, supported the validity of it
with infinite humour. By the by, Charles Fox prepared himself for that
holy war by passing twenty-two hours in the pious exercise of hazard;
his devotion cost him only about L500 per hour--in all, L11,000.' See
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 19, 1773.]
[Footnote 2: 'Lord George Germayne,' writes Horace Walpole, 'said that
he wondered the House did not take some steps on this subject with
regard to the Universities, where boys were made to subscribe to the
Articles without reading them--a scandalous abuse.' _Journal of the
Reign of George III_, i. 11.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, ii. 104.]
[Footnote 4: Burke had thus answered Boswell's proposal:--'What is that
Scripture to which they are content to subscribe? The Bible is a vast
collection of different treatises; a man who holds the divine authority
of one may consider the other as merely human. Therefore, to ascertain
Scripture you must have one Article more, and you must define what that
Scripture is which you mean to teach.' _Parl. Hist._ xvii. 284.]
I mentioned the motion which had been made in the House of Commons, to
abolish the fast of the 30th of January[1]. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I could
have wished that it had been a temporary act, perhaps, to have expired
with the century. I am against abolishing it; because that would be
declaring it wrong to establish it; but I should have no objection to
make an act, continuing it for another century, and then letting it
expire.'
[Footnote 1: Dr. Nowell (_post_, June 11, 1784) had this year preached
the fast sermon before the House of Commons on Jan. 30, the anniversary
of the execution of Charles I, and received the usual vote of thanks.
_Parl. Hist. xvii._ 245. On Feb. 25 the entry of the vote was, without a
division, ordered to be expunged. On the publication of the sermon it
had been seen that Nowell had asserted that George III was endued with
the same virtues as Charles I, and that the members of the House were
the descendants of those who had opposed that King. _Ib_ p. 313, and
_Ann. Reg._ xv. 79. On March 2, Mr. Montague moved for leave to bring in
a bill to abolish the fast, but it was refused by 125 to 97. _Parl.
Hist._ xvii. 319. The fast was abolished in 1859--thirteen years within
the century that Johnson was ready to allow it. 'It is remarkable,'
writes Horace Walpole, 'that George III had never from the beginning of
his reign gone to church on the 30th of January, whereas George II
always did.' _Journal of the Reign of George III_, i. 41.]
He disapproved of the Royal Marriage Bill; 'Because (said he) I would
not have the people think that the validity of marriage depends on the
will of man, or that the right of a King depends on the will of man. I
should not have been against making the marriage of any of the royal
family without the approbation of King and Parliament, highly
criminal[1].'
[Footnote 1: This passage puzzled Mr. Croker and Mr. Lockhart. The
following extract from the _Gent. Mag._ for Feb. 1772, p. 92, throws
light on Johnson's meaning:--'This, say the opposers of the Bill, is
putting it in the King's power to change the order of succession, as he
may for ever prevent, if he is so minded, the elder branches of the
family from marrying, and therefore may establish the succession in the
younger. Be this as it may, is it not, in fact, converting the holy
institution of marriage into a mere state contract?' See also the
Protest of fourteen of the peers in _Parl. Hist._ xvii. 391, and _post_,
April 15, 1773. Horace Walpole ends his account of the Marriage Bill by
saying:--'Thus within three weeks were the Thirty-nine Articles affirmed
and the New Testament deserted.' _Journal of the Reign of George III_,
i. 37. How carelessly this Act was drawn was shown by Lord Eldon, when
Attorney-General, in the case of the marriage of the Duke of Sussex to
Lady Augusta Murray. 'Lord Thurlow said to me angrily at the Privy
Council, "Sir, why have you not prosecuted under the Act of Parliament
all the parties concerned in this abominable marriage?" To which I
answered, "That it was a very difficult business to prosecute--that the
Act had been drawn by Lord Mansfield and _Mr. Attorney-General Thurlow_,
and Mr. Solicitor-General Wedderburne, and unluckily they had made all
parties present at the marriage guilty of felony; and as nobody could
prove the marriage except a person who had been present at it, there
could be no prosecution, because nobody present could be compelled to be
a witness." This put an end to the matter.' Twiss's _Eldon_, i. 234.]
In the morning we had talked of old families, and the respect due to
them. JOHNSON. 'Sir, you have a right to that kind of respect, and are
arguing for yourself. I am for supporting the principle, and am
disinterested in doing it, as I have no such right[1].' BOSWELL. 'Why,
Sir, it is one more incitement to a man to do well.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir,
and it is a matter of opinion, very necessary to keep society together.
What is it but opinion, by which we have a respect for authority, that
prevents us, who are the rabble, from rising up and pulling down you who
are gentlemen from your places, and saying "We will be gentlemen in our
turn"? Now, Sir, that respect for authority is much more easily granted
to a man whose father has had it, than to an upstart[2], and so Society
is more easily supported.' BOSWELL. 'Perhaps, Sir, it might be done by
the respect belonging to office, as among the Romans, where the dress,
the toga, inspired reverence.' JOHNSON. 'Why, we know very little about
the Romans. But, surely, it is much easier to respect a man who has
always had respect, than to respect a man who we know was last year no
better than ourselves, and will be no better next year. In republicks
there is not a respect for authority, but a fear of power.' BOSWELL. 'At
present, Sir, I think riches seem to gain most respect.' JOHNSON. 'No,
Sir, riches do not gain hearty respect; they only procure external
attention. A very rich man, from low beginnings, may buy his election in
a borough; but, _caeteris paribus_, a man of family will be preferred.
People will prefer a man for whose father their fathers have voted,
though they should get no more money, or even less. That shows that the
respect for family is not merely fanciful, but has an actual operation.
If gentlemen of family would allow the rich upstarts to spend their
money profusely, which they are ready enough to do, and not vie with
them in expence, the upstarts would soon be at an end, and the gentlemen
would remain: but if the gentlemen will vie in expence with the
upstarts, which is very foolish, they must be ruined.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, May 9, 1773, and May 13, 1778.]
[Footnote 2: See Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 25, 1773, where Johnson,
discussing the same question, says:--'There is generally a
_scoundrelism_ about a low man.']
I gave him an account of the excellent mimickry of a friend of mine in
Scotland[1]; observing, at the same time, that some people thought it a
very mean thing. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is making a very mean use of a
man's powers. But to be a good mimick, requires great powers; great
acuteness of observation, great retention of what is observed, and great
pliancy of organs, to represent what is observed. I remember a lady of
quality in this town, Lady ---- ----, who was a wonderful mimick, and
used to make me laugh immoderately. I have heard she is now gone mad.'
BOSWELL. 'It is amazing how a mimick can not only give you the gestures
and voice of a person whom he represents; but even what a person would
say on any particular subject.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you are to consider
that the manner and some particular phrases of a person do much to
impress you with an idea of him, and you are not sure that he would say
what the mimick says in his character.' BOSWELL. 'I don't think Foote[2]
a good mimick, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; his imitations are not like. He
gives you something different from himself, but not the character which
he means to assume. He goes out of himself, without going into other
people. He cannot take off any person unless he is strongly marked, such
as George Faulkner[3]. He is like a painter, who can draw the portrait
of a man who has a wen upon his face, and who, therefore, is easily
known. If a man hops upon one leg, Foote can hop upon one leg[4]. But he
has not that nice discrimination which your friend seems to possess.
Foote is, however, very entertaining, with a kind of conversation
between wit and buffoonery[5].'
[Footnote 1: Mackintosh told Mr. Croker that this friend was Mr. Cullen,
afterwards a judge by the name of Lord Cullen. In _Boswelliana_ (pp.
250-2), Boswell mentions him thrice, and always as 'Cullen the mimick.'
His manner, he says, was wretched, and his physiognomy worse than
Wilkes's. Dr. A. Carlyle (_Auto._ p. 268) says that 'Cullen possessed
the talent of mimicry beyond all mankind; for his was not merely an
exact imitation of voice and manner of speaking, but a perfect
exhibition of every man's manner of thinking on every subject.' Carlyle
mentions two striking instances of this.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, May 15, 1776.]
[Footnote 3: 'The prince of Dublin printers,' as Swift called him.
Swift's _Works_ (1803), xviii. 288. He was taken off by Foote under the
name of Peter Paragraph, in _The Orators_, the piece in which he had
meant to take off Johnson (_ante_, ii. 95). 'Faulkner consoled himself
(pending his prosecution of the libeller) by printing the libel, and
selling it most extensively.' Forster's _Goldsmith_, i. 287. See
Boswell's _Hebrides_, Aug. 29.]
[Footnote 4: Faulkner had lost one of his legs. 'When Foote had his
accident (_ante_, ii. 95), "Now I shall take off old Faulkner indeed to
the life," was the first remark he made when what he had to suffer was
announced to him.' Forster's _Essays_, ii. 400.]
[Footnote 5: A writer in the _Monthly Review_, lxxvi. 374 (no doubt
Murphy), says:--'A large number of friends such as Johnson, Mr. Burke,
and Mr. Murphy dined at Garrick's at Christmas, 1760. Foote was then in
Dublin. It was said at table that he had been horse-whipped by an
apothecary for taking him off upon the stage. "But I wonder," said
Garrick, "that any man would show so much resentment to Foote; nobody
ever thought it worth his while to quarrel with him in London." "And I
am glad," said Johnson, "to find that the man is rising in the world."
The anecdote was afterwards told to Foote, who in return gave out that
he would in a short time produce the Caliban of literature on the stage.
Being informed of this design, Johnson sent word to Foote, that, the
theatre being intended for the reformation of vice, he would go from the
boxes on the stage, and correct him before the audience, Foote abandoned
the design. No ill-will ensued.']
On Monday, March 23, I found him busy, preparing a fourth edition of his
folio Dictionary. Mr. Peyton, one of his original amanuenses, was
writing for him. I put him in mind of a meaning of the word _side_,
which he had omitted, viz. relationship; as father's side, mother's
side. He inserted it. I asked him if _humiliating_ was a good word. He
said, he had seen it frequently used, but he did not know it to be
legitimate English. He would not admit _civilization_, but only
_civility_[1]. With great deference to him, I thought _civilization_,
from _to civilize_ better in the sense opposed to _barbarity_, than
_civility_; as it is better to have a distinct word for each sense, than
one word with two senses, which _civility_ is, in his way of using it.
[Footnote 1: See _post_, May 15, 1776, where Johnson says:--'I turned
Boswell loose at Lichfield, my native city, that he might see for once
real _civility_.]
He seemed also to be intent on some sort of chymical operation. I was
entertained by observing how he contrived to send Mr. Peyton on an
errand, without seeming to degrade him. 'Mr. Peyton,--Mr. Peyton, will
you be so good as to take a walk to Temple-Bar? You will there see a
chymist's shop; at which you will be pleased to buy for me an ounce of
oil of vitriol; not spirit of vitriol, but oil of vitriol. It will cost
three half-pence.' Peyton immediately went, and returned with it, and
told him it cost but a penny.
I then reminded him of the schoolmaster's cause, and proposed to read to
him the printed papers concerning it. 'No, Sir, (said he,) I can read
quicker than I can hear.' So he read them to himself.
After he had read for some time, we were interrupted by the entrance of
Mr. Kristrom, a Swede, who was tutor to some young gentlemen in the
city. He told me, that there was a very good History of Sweden, by
Daline. Having at that time an intention of writing the history of that
country[1], I asked Dr. Johnson whether one might write a history of
Sweden, without going thither. 'Yes, Sir, (said he,) one for common
use.'
[Footnote 1: In my list of Boswell's projected works (_ante_, i. 225,
note 2) I have omitted this.]
We talked of languages. Johnson observed, that Leibnitz had made some
progress in a work, tracing all languages up to the Hebrew. 'Why, Sir,
(said he,) you would not imagine that the French _jour_, day, is derived
from the Latin _dies_, and yet nothing is more certain; and the
intermediate steps are very clear. From _dies_, comes _diurnus_. _Diu_
is, by inaccurate ears, or inaccurate pronunciation, easily confounded
with _giu_; then the Italians form a substantive of the ablative of an
adjective, and thence _giurno_, or, as they make it, _giorno_; which is
readily contracted into _giour_, or _jour_' He observed, that the
Bohemian language was true Sclavonick. The Swede said, it had some
similarity with the German. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, to be sure, such parts
of Sclavonia as confine with Germany, will borrow German words; and such
parts as confine with Tartary will borrow Tartar words.'
He said, he never had it properly ascertained that the Scotch
Highlanders and the Irish understood each other[1]. I told him that my
cousin Colonel Graham, of the Royal Highlanders, whom I met at
Drogheda[2], told me they did. JOHNSON. 'Sir, if the Highlanders
understood Irish, why translate the New Testament into Erse, as was done
lately at Edinburgh, when there is an Irish translation?' BOSWELL.
'Although the Erse and Irish are both dialects of the same language,
there may be a good deal of diversity between them, as between the
different dialects in Italy.'--The Swede went away, and Mr. Johnson
continued his reading of the papers. I said, 'I am afraid, Sir, it is
troublesome.' 'Why, Sir, (said he,) I do not take much delight in it;
but I'll go through it.'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, April 7, 1775.]
[Footnote 2: Boswell visited Ireland in the summer of 1760. Prior's
_Goldsmith_, i. 450.]
We went to the Mitre, and dined in the room where he and I first supped
together. He gave me great hopes of my cause. 'Sir, (said he,) the
government of a schoolmaster is somewhat of the nature of military
government; that is to say, it must be arbitrary, it must be exercised
by the will of one man, according to particular circumstances. You must
shew some learning upon this occasion. You must shew, that a
schoolmaster has a prescriptive right to beat; and that an action of
assault and battery cannot be admitted against him, unless there is some
great excess, some barbarity. This man has maimed none of his boys. They
are all left with the full exercise of their corporeal faculties. In our
schools in England, many boys have been maimed; yet I never heard of an
action against a schoolmaster on that account. Puffendorf, I think,
maintains the right of a schoolmaster to beat his scholars[1].'
[Footnote 1: Puffendorf states that 'tutors and schoolmasters have a
right to the moderate use of gentle discipline over their pupils'--viii.
3-10; adding, rather superfluously, Grotius's _caveat_, that 'it shall
not extend to a power of death.' CROKER.]
On Saturday, March 27, I introduced to him Sir Alexander Macdonald[1],
with whom he had expressed a wish to be acquainted. He received him very
courteously.
[Footnote 1: The brother of Sir J. Macdonald, mentioned _ante_, i. 449.
Johnson visited him in the Isle of Skye. 'He had been very well pleased
with him in London, but he was dissatisfied at hearing heavy complaints
of rents racked, and the people driven to emigration.' Boswell's
_Hebrides_, Sept. 2, 1773. He reproached him also with meanness as a
host.]
Sir Alexander observed, that the Chancellors in England are chosen from
views much inferiour to the office, being chosen from temporary
political views. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, in such a government as ours, no
man is appointed to an office because he is the fittest for it, nor
hardly in any other government; because there are so many connections
and dependencies to be studied[1]. A despotick prince may choose a man
to an office, merely because he is the fittest for it. The King of
Prussia may do it.' SIR A. 'I think, Sir, almost all great lawyers, such
at least as have written upon law, have known only law, and nothing
else.' JOHNSON. 'Why no, Sir; Judge Hale was a great lawyer, and wrote
upon law; and yet he knew a great many other things, and has written
upon other things. Selden too.' SIR A. 'Very true, Sir; and Lord Bacon.
But was not Lord Coke a mere lawyer?' JOHNSON. 'Why, I am afraid he was;
but he would have taken it very ill if you had told him so. He would
have prosecuted you for scandal.' BOSWELL. 'Lord Mansfield is not a mere
lawyer.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. I never was in Lord Mansfield's company; but
Lord Mansfield was distinguished at the University. Lord Mansfield, when
he first came to town, "drank champagne with the wits," as Prior
says[2]. He was the friend of Pope[3].' SIR A. 'Barristers, I believe,
are not so abusive now as they were formerly. I fancy they had less law
long ago, and so were obliged to take to abuse, to fill up the time. Now
they have such a number of precedents, they have no occasion for abuse.'
JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, they had more law long ago than they have now. As to
precedents, to be sure they will increase in course of time; but the
more precedents there are, the less occasion is there for law; that is
to say, the less occasion is there for investigating principles.' SIR A.
'I have been correcting several Scotch accents[4] in my friend Boswell.
I doubt, Sir, if any Scotchman ever attains to a perfect English
pronunciation.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, few of them do, because they do not
persevere after acquiring a certain degree of it. But, Sir, there can be
no doubt that they may attain to a perfect English pronunciation, if
they will. We find how near they come to it; and certainly, a man who
conquers nineteen parts of the Scottish accent, may conquer the
twentieth. But, Sir, when a man has got the better of nine tenths he
grows weary, he relaxes his diligence, he finds he has corrected his
accent so far as not to be disagreeable, and he no longer desires his
friends to tell him when he is wrong; nor does he choose to be told.
Sir, when people watch me narrowly, and I do not watch myself, they will
find me out to be of a particular county[5]. In the same manner,
Dunning[6] may be found out to be a Devonshire man. So most Scotchmen
may be found out. But, Sir, little aberrations are of no disadvantage. I
never catched Mallet in a Scotch accent[7]; and yet Mallet, I suppose,
was past five-and-twenty before he came to London.'
[Footnote 1: Lord Campbell (_Lives of the Chancellors_, v. 449) points
out that this conversation followed close on the appointment of 'the
incompetent Bathurst' as Chancellor. 'Such a conversation,' he adds,
'would not have occurred during the chancellorship of Lord Hardwicke or
Lord Somers.']
[Footnote 2:
'But if at first he minds his hits,
And drinks champagne among the wits,' &c.
Prior's _Chameleon_, 1. 39.]
[Footnote 3: 'Plain truth, _dear Murray_, needs no flowers of speech.'
Pope thus addresses him in Epistle vi. Book i. of his _Imitations of
Horace_, which he dedicated to him.]
[Footnote 4: See _ante_, 386.]
[Footnote 5: See _post_, March 23, 1776.]
[Footnote 6: Afterwards Lord Ashburton. Described by Johnson (_post_,
July 22, 1777), as 'Mr. Dunning, the great lawyer.']
[Footnote 7: 'Having cleared his tongue from his native pronunciation,
so as to be no longer distinguished as a Scot, he seems inclined to
disencumber himself from all adherences of his original, and took upon
him to change his name from Scotch _Malloch_ to English _Mallet_,
without any imaginable reason of preference which the eye or ear can
discover. What other proofs he gave of disrespect to his native country
I know not, but it was remarked of him that he was the only Scot whom
Scotchmen did not commend.' Johnson's _Works_, viii. 464. See _ante_, i.
268, and _post_, April 28, 1783.]
Upon another occasion I talked to him on this subject, having myself
taken some pains to improve my pronunciation, by the aid of the late Mr.
Love[1], of Drury-lane theatre, when he was a player at Edinburgh, and
also of old Mr. Sheridan. Johnson said to me, 'Sir, your pronunciation
is not offensive.' With this concession I was pretty well satisfied; and
let me give my countrymen of North-Britain an advice not to aim at
absolute perfection in this respect; not to speak _High English_, as we
are apt to call what is far removed from the _Scotch_, but which is by
no means _good English_, and makes, 'the fools who use it[2],' truly
ridiculous[3]. Good English is plain, easy, and smooth in the mouth of
an unaffected English Gentleman. A studied and factitious pronunciation,
which requires perpetual attention and imposes perpetual constraint, is
exceedingly disgusting. A small intermixture of provincial peculiarities
may, perhaps, have an agreeable effect, as the notes of different birds
concur in the harmony of the grove, and please more than if they were
all exactly alike. I could name some gentlemen of Ireland, to whom a
slight proportion of the accent and recitative of that country is an
advantage. The same observation will apply to the gentlemen of Scotland.
I do not mean that we should speak as broad as a certain prosperous
member of Parliament from that country[4]; though it has been well
observed, that 'it has been of no small use to him; as it rouses the
attention of the House by its uncommonness; and is equal to tropes and
figures in a good English speaker.' I would give as an instance of what
I mean to recommend to my countrymen, the pronunciation of the late Sir
Gilbert Elliot[5]; and may I presume to add that of the present Earl of
Marchmont[6], who told me, with great good humour, that the master of a
shop in London, where he was not known, said to him, 'I suppose, Sir,
you are an American.' 'Why so, Sir?' (said his Lordship.) 'Because, Sir,
(replied the shopkeeper,) you speak neither English nor Scotch, but
something different from both, which I conclude is the language of
America.'
[Footnote 1: Mr. Love was, so far as is known, the first who advised
Boswell to keep a journal. When Boswell was but eighteen, writing of a
journey he had taken, he says: 'I kept an exact journal, at the
particular desire of my friend, Mr. Love, and sent it to him in sheets
every post.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 8.]
[Footnote 2: 'That's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in
the fool that uses it.' _Hamlet_, iii. 2.]
[Footnote 3: Jeffrey wrote from Oxford, where he spent nine months in
1791-2:--'The only part of a Scotchman I mean to abandon is the
language, and language is all I expect to learn in England.' (Cockburn's
_Jeffrey_, i. 46). His biographer says:--'He certainly succeeded in the
abandonment of his habitual Scotch. The change was so sudden and so
complete, that it excited the surprise of his friends, and furnished
others with ridicule for many years.... The result, on the whole, was
exactly as described by Lord Holland, who said that though Jeffrey "had
lost the broad Scotch at Oxford, he had only gained the narrow
English."' Cockburn, in forgetfulness of Mallet's case, says that 'the
acquisition of a pure English accent by a full-grown Scotchman is
fortunately impossible.']
[Footnote 4: Henry Dundas, afterwards Viscount Melville. See _post_,
under Nov. 29, 1777. Boswell wrote to Temple on May 22, 1775:--'Harry
Dundas is going to be made King's Advocate--Lord Advocate at
thirty-three! I cannot help being angry and somewhat fretful at this; he
has, to be sure, strong parts, but he is a coarse, unlettered,
unfanciful dog.' _Letters of Boswell_, p. 195. Horace Walpole describes
him as 'the rankest of all Scotchmen, and odious for that bloody speech
that had fixed on him the nick-name of _Starvation_! _Journal of the
Reign of George III_, ii. 479. On p. 637 he adds:--'The happily coined
word "starvation" delivered a whole continent from the Northern harpies
that meant to devour it.' The speech in which Dundas introduced
_starvation_ was made in 1775. Walpole's _Letters_, viii. 30. See _Parl.
Hist._, xviii. 387. His character is drawn with great force by Cockburn.
_Life of Jeffrey_, i. 77.]
[Footnote 5: The correspondent of Hume. See J. H. Burton's _Hume_, i.
320.]
[Footnote 6: See _post_, May 12, 1778.]
BOSWELL. 'It may be of use, Sir, to have a Dictionary to ascertain the
pronunciation.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, my Dictionary shows you the accents
of words, if you can but remember them.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we want
marks to ascertain the pronunciation of the vowels. Sheridan, I believe,
has finished such a work.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, consider how much easier
it is to learn a language by the ear, than by any marks. Sheridan's
Dictionary may do very well; but you cannot always carry it about with
you: and, when you want the word, you have not the Dictionary. It is
like a man who has a sword that will not draw. It is an admirable sword,
to be sure: but while your enemy is cutting your throat, you are unable
to use it. Besides, Sir, what entitles Sheridan to fix the pronunciation
of English? He has, in the first place, the disadvantage of being an
Irishman: and if he says he will fix it after the example of the best
company, why they differ among themselves. I remember an instance: when
I published the Plan for my Dictionary, Lord Chesterfield told me that
the word _great_ should be pronounced so as to rhyme to _state_; and Sir
William Yonge sent me word that it should be pronounced so as to rhyme
to _seat_, and that none but an Irishman would pronounce it _grait_[1].
Now here were two men of the highest rank, the one, the best speaker in
the House of Lords, the other, the best speaker in the House of Commons,
differing entirely.'
[Footnote 1: In the _Plan_ (Works, v. 9), Johnson noticed the difference
of the pronunciation of _great_. 'Some words have two sounds which may
be equally admitted as being equally defensible by authority. Thus
_great_ is differently used:--
'For Swift and him despised the farce of state,
The sober follies of the wise and great.'--POPE.
'As if misfortune made the throne her seat,
And none could be unhappy but the great.'--ROWE.
In the _Preface to the Dictionary_ (_Works_, v. 25), Johnson says that
'the vowels are capriciously pronounced, and differently modified by
accident or affectation, not only in every province, but in every
mouth.' Swift gives both rhymes within ten lines:--
'My lord and he are grown so great--
Always together, tete-a-tete.'
* * * * *
'You, Mr. Dean, frequent the great, Inform us, will the emperor treat?'
Swift's _Works_ (1803), x. 110.]
I again visited him at night. Finding him in a very good humour, I
ventured to lead him to the subject of our situation in a future state,
having much curiosity to know his notions on that point. JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, the happiness of an unembodied spirit will consist in a
consciousness of the favour of GOD, in the contemplation of truth, and
in the possession of felicitating ideas.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, is there
any harm in our forming to ourselves conjectures as to the particulars
of our happiness, though the scripture has said but very little on the
subject? "We know not what we shall be."' JOHNSON. 'Sir, there is no
harm. What philosophy suggests to us on this topick is probable: what
scripture tells us is certain. Dr. Henry More[1] has carried it as far
as philosophy can. You may buy both his theological and philosophical
works in two volumes folio, for about eight shillings.' BOSWELL. 'One of
the most pleasing thoughts is, that we shall see our friends again.'
JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but you must consider, that when we are become
purely rational, many of our friendships will be cut off. Many
friendships are formed by a community of sensual pleasures: all these
will be cut off. We form many friendships with bad men, because they
have agreeable qualities, and they can be useful to us; but, after
death, they can no longer be of use to us. We form many friendships by
mistake, imagining people to be different from what they really are.
After death, we shall see every one in a true light. Then, Sir, they
talk of our meeting our relations: but then all relationship is
dissolved; and we shall have no regard for one person more than another,
but for their real value. However, we shall either have the satisfaction
of meeting our friends, or be satisfied without meeting them[2].'
BOSWELL. 'Yet, Sir, we see in scripture, that Dives still retained an
anxious concern about his brethren.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, we must either
suppose that passage to be metaphorical, or hold with many divines, and
all the Purgatorians that departed souls do not all at once arrive at
the utmost perfection of which they are capable.' BOSWELL. 'I think,
Sir, that is a very rational supposition.' JOHNSON. 'Why, yes, Sir; but
we do not know it is a true one. There is no harm in believing it: but
you must not compel others to make it an article of faith; for it is not
revealed.' BOSWELL. 'Do you think, Sir, it is wrong in a man who holds
the doctrine of purgatory, to pray for the souls of his deceased
friends?' JOHNSON. 'Why, no, Sir[3].' BOSWELL. 'I have been told, that
in the Liturgy of the Episcopal Church of Scotland, there was a form of
prayer for the dead.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is not in the liturgy which Laud
framed for the Episcopal Church of Scotland: if there is a liturgy older
than that, I should be glad to see it.' BOSWELL. 'As to our employment
in a future state, the sacred writings say little. The Revelation,
however, of St. John gives us many ideas, and particularly mentions
musick[4].' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, ideas must be given you by means of
something which you know[5]: and as to musick there are some
philosophers and divines who have maintained that we shall not be
spiritualized to such a degree, but that something of matter, very much
refined, will remain. In that case, musick may make a part of our future
felicity.'
[Footnote 1: 'Dr. Henry More, of Cambridge, Johnson did not much affect;
he was a Platonist, and, in Johnson's opinion, a visionary. He would
frequently cite from him, and laugh at, a passage to this effect:--"At
the consummation of all things, it shall come to pass that eternity
shall shake hands with opacity"' Hawkins's _Johnson_, p. 543.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, April 17, 1778, and May 19, 1784.]
[Footnote 3: See _ante_, i. 240, and ii. 105.]
[Footnote 4: _Revelations_, xiv. 2.]
[Footnote 5: Johnson, in _The Rambler_, No. 78, describes man's death as
'a change not only of the place, but the manner of his being; an
entrance into a state not simply which he knows not, but which perhaps
he has not faculties to know.']
BOSWELL. 'I do not know whether there are any well-attested stories of
the appearance of ghosts. You know there is a famous story of the
appearance of Mrs. Veal, prefixed to _Drelincourt on Death_.' JOHNSON.
'I believe, Sir, that is given up. I believe the woman declared upon her
death-bed that it was a lie[1].' BOSWELL. 'This objection is made
against the truth of ghosts appearing: that if they are in a state of
happiness, it would be a punishment to them to return to this world; and
if they are in a state of misery, it would be giving them a respite.'
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, as the happiness or misery of embodied spirits does
not depend upon place, but is intellectual, we cannot say that they are
less happy or less miserable by appearing upon earth.'
[Footnote 1: This fiction is known to have been invented by Daniel
Defoe, and was added to Drelincourt's book, to make it sell. The first
edition had it not. MALONE. 'More than fifty editions have not exhausted
its popularity. The hundreds of thousands who have bought the silly
treatise of Drelincourt have borne unconscious testimony to the genius
of De Foe.' Forster's _Essays_, ii. 70.]
We went down between twelve and one to Mrs. Williams's room, and drank
tea. I mentioned that we were to have the remains of Mr. Gray, in prose
and verse, published by Mr. Mason[1]. JOHNSON. 'I think we have had
enough of Gray. I see they have published a splendid edition of
Akenside's works. One bad ode may be suffered; but a number of them
together makes one sick[2].' BOSWELL. 'Akenside's distinguished poem is
his _Pleasures of Imagination_: but for my part, I never could admire it
so much as most people do.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I could not read it through.'
BOSWELL. 'I have read it through; but I did not find any great power in
it.'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 29.]
[Footnote 2: In his _Life of Akenside ( Works_, viii. 475) he says:--'Of
Akenside's _Odes_ nothing favourable can be said.... To examine such
compositions singly cannot be required; they have doubtless brighter and
darker parts; but when they are once found to be generally dull, all
further labour may be spared; for to what use can the work be criticised
that will not be read?' See _post_, April 10, 1776.]
I mentioned Elwal, the heretick, whose trial Sir John Pringle[1] had
given me to read. JOHNSON. 'Sir, Mr. Elwal was, I think, an ironmonger
at Wolverhampton; and he had a mind to make himself famous, by being the
founder of a new sect, which he wished much should be called
_Elwallians_. He held, that every thing in the Old Testament that was
not typical, was to be of perpetual observance; and so he wore a ribband
in the plaits of his coat, and he also wore a beard. I remember I had
the honour of dining in company with Mr. Elwal. There was one Barter, a
miller, who wrote against him; and you had the controversy between Mr.
ELWAL and Mr. BARTER. To try to make himself distinguished, he wrote a
letter to King George the Second, challenging him to dispute with him,
in which he said, "George, if you be afraid to come by yourself, to
dispute with a poor old man, you may bring a thousand of your
_black_-guards with you; and if you should still be afraid, you may
bring a thousand of your _red_-guards." The letter had something of the
impudence of Junius to our present King. But the men of Wolverhampton
were not so inflammable as the Common-Council of London[2]; so Mr. Elwal
failed in his scheme of making himself a man of great consequence[3].'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, just before May 15, 1776.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, Sept. 23, 1777.]
[Footnote 3: The account of his trial is entitled:--'_The Grand Question
in Religion Considered. Whether we shall obey God or Man; Christ or the
Pope; the Prophets and Apostles, or Prelates and Priests. Humbly offered
to the King and Parliament of Great Britain. By E. Elwall. With an
account of the Author's Tryal or Prosecution at Stafford Assizes before
Judge Denton. London.'_ No date. Elwall seems to have been a Unitarian
Quaker. He was prosecuted for publishing a book against the doctrines of
the Trinity, but was discharged, being, he writes, treated by the Judge
with great humanity. In his pamphlet he says (p. 49):--'You see what I
have already done in my former book. I have challenged the greatest
potentates on earth, yea, even the King of Great Britain, whose true and
faithful subject I am in all temporal things, and whom I love and
honour; also his noble and valiant friend, John Argyle, and his great
friends Robert Walpole, Charles Wager, and Arthur Onslow; all these can
speak well, and who is like them; and yet, behold, none of all these
cared to engage with their friend Elwall.' See _post_, May 7, 1773. Dr.
Priestley had received an account of the trial from a gentleman who was
present, who described Elwall as 'a tall man, with white hair, a large
beard and flowing garments, who struck everybody with respect. He spoke
about an hour with great gravity, fluency, and presence of mind.' The
trial took place, he said, in 1726. 'It is impossible,' adds Priestley
(_Works_, ed. 1831, ii. 417), 'for an unprejudiced person to read
Elwall's account of his trial, without feeling the greatest veneration
for the writer.' In truth, Elwall spoke with all the simple power of the
best of the early Quakers.]
On Tuesday, March 31, he and I dined at General Paoli's. A question was
started, whether the state of marriage was natural to man. JOHNSON.
'Sir, it is so far from being natural for a man and woman to live in a
state of marriage, that we find all the motives which they have for
remaining in that connection, and the restraints which civilized society
imposes to prevent separation, are hardly sufficient to keep them
together.' The General said, that in a state of nature a man and woman
uniting together, would form a strong and constant affection, by the
mutual pleasure each would receive; and that the same causes of
dissention would not arise between them, as occur between husband and
wife in a civilized state. JOHNSON. 'Sir, they would have dissentions
enough, though of another kind. One would choose to go a hunting in this
wood, the other in that; one would choose to go a fishing in this lake,
the other in that; or, perhaps, one would choose to go a hunting, when
the other would choose to go a fishing; and so they would part. Besides,
Sir, a savage man and a savage woman meet by chance; and when the man
sees another woman that pleases him better, he will leave the first.'
We then fell into a disquisition whether there is any beauty independent
of utility. The General maintained there was not. Dr. Johnson maintained
that there was; and he instanced a coffee-cup which he held in his hand,
the painting of which was of no real use, as the cup would hold the
coffee equally well if plain; yet the painting was beautiful.
We talked of the strange custom of swearing in conversation[1]. The
General said, that all barbarous nations swore from a certain violence
of temper, that could not be confined to earth, but was always reaching
at the powers above. He said, too, that there was greater variety of
swearing, in proportion as there was a greater variety of religious
ceremonies.
[Footnote 1: Boswell, in the _Hypochrondriack_ (_London Mag._ 1783, p.
290), writing on swearing, says:--'I have the comfort to think that my
practice has been blameless in this respect.' He continues (p. 293):--
'To do the present age justice, there is much less swearing among
genteel people than in the last age.']
Dr. Johnson went home with me to my lodgings in Conduit-street and drank
tea, previous to our going to the Pantheon, which neither of us had seen
before.
He said, 'Goldsmith's _Life of Parnell_[1] is poor; not that it is
poorly written, but that he had poor materials; for nobody can write the
life of a man, but those who have eat and drunk and lived in social
intercourse with him.'
[Footnote 1: 'The _Life of Dr. Parnell_ is a task which I should very
willingly decline, since it has been lately written by Goldsmith, a man
of such variety of powers, and such felicity of performance, that he
always seemed to do best that which he was doing.... What such an author
has told, who would tell again? I have made an abstract from his larger
narrative, and have this gratification from my attempt, that it gives me
an opportunity of paying due tribute to the memory of Goldsmith. [Greek:
Togargerasesti Thanonton].' Johnson's _Works_, vii. 398.]
I said, that if it was not troublesome and presuming too much, I would
request him to tell me all the little circumstances of his life; what
schools he attended, when he came to Oxford, when he came to London, &c.
&c. He did not disapprove of my curiosity as to these particulars; but
said, 'They'll come out by degrees as we talk together[1].'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, i. 26, and _post_, April 11, 1773.]
He censured Ruffhead's _Life of Pope_[1]; and said, 'he knew nothing of
Pope, and nothing of poetry.' He praised Dr. Joseph Warton's Essay on
Pope[2]; but said, he supposed we should have no more of it, as the
authour had not been able to persuade the world to think of Pope as he
did. BOSWELL. 'Why, Sir, should that prevent him from continuing his
work? He is an ingenious Counsel, who has made the most of his cause: he
is not obliged to gain it.' JOHNSON. 'But, Sir, there is a difference
when the cause is of a man's own making.'
[Footnote 1: 'Mr. Ruffhead says of fine passages that they are fine, and
of feeble passages that they are feeble; but recommending poetical
beauty is like remarking the splendour of sunshine; to those who can see
it is unnecessary, and to those who are blind, absurd.' _Gent. Mag._
May, 1769, p. 255. The review in which this passage occurs, is perhaps
in part Johnson's.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 448.]
We talked of the proper use of riches. JOHNSON. 'If I were a man of a
great estate, I would drive all the rascals whom I did not like out of
the county at an election[1].'
[Footnote 1: See _post_, April 5, 1775.]
I asked him how far he thought wealth should be employed in hospitality.
JOHNSON. 'You are to consider that ancient hospitality, of which we hear
so much, was in an uncommercial country, when men being idle, were glad
to be entertained at rich men's tables. But in a commercial country, a
busy country, time becomes precious, and therefore hospitality is not so
much valued. No doubt there is still room for a certain degree of it;
and a man has a satisfaction in seeing his friends eating and drinking
around him. But promiscuous hospitality is not the way to gain real
influence. You must help some people at table before others; you must
ask some people how they like their wine oftener than others. You
therefore offend more people than you please. You are like the French
statesman, who said, when he granted a favour, '_J' ai fait dix
mecontents et un ingrat_[1].' Besides, Sir, being entertained ever so
well at a man's table, impresses no lasting regard or esteem. No, Sir,
the way to make sure of power and influence is, by lending money
confidentially to your neighbours at a small interest, or, perhaps, at
no interest at all, and having their bonds in your possession[2].'
BOSWELL. 'May not a man, Sir, employ his riches to advantage in
educating young men of merit?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, if they fall in your
way; but if it be understood that you patronize young men of merit, you
will be harassed with solicitations. You will have numbers forced upon
you who have no merit; some will force them upon you from mistaken
partiality; and some from downright interested motives, without scruple;
and you will be disgraced.'
[Footnote 1: It was Lewis XIV who said it. 'Toutes les fois que je donne
une place vacante, je fais cent mecontens et un ingrat.' Voltaire,
_Siecle de Louis XIV_, ch. 26. 'When I give away a place,' said Lewis
XIV, 'I make an hundred discontented, and one ungrateful.' Johnson's
_Works_, viii. 204.]
[Footnote 2: See _post_, May 15, 1783.]
'Were I a rich man, I would propagate all kinds of trees that will grow
in the open air. A greenhouse is childish. I would introduce foreign
animals into the country; for instance the reindeer[1].'
[Footnote 1: This project has since been realized. Sir Henry Liddel, who
made a spirited tour into Lapland, brought two rein-deer to his estate
in Northumberland, where they bred; but the race has unfortunately
perished. BOSWELL.]
The conversation now turned on critical subjects. JOHNSON. 'Bayes, in
_The Rehearsal_, is a mighty silly character. If it was intended to be
like a particular man, it could only be diverting while that man was
remembered. But I question whether it was meant for Dryden, as has been
reported; for we know some of the passages said to be ridiculed, were
written since _The Rehearsal_; at least a passage mentioned in the
Preface[1] is of a later date.' I maintained that it had merit as a
general satire on the self-importance of dramatick authours. But even in
this light he held it very cheap.
[Footnote 1: Dr. Johnson seems to have meant the Address to the Reader
with a KEY subjoined to it; which have been prefixed to the modern
editions of that play. He did not know, it appears, that several
additions were made to _The Rehearsal_ after the first edition. MALONE.
In his _Life of Dryden_ (_Works_, vii. 272) Johnson writes:--'Buckingham
characterised Dryden in 1671 by the name of Bayes in _The Rehearsal_....
It is said that this farce was originally intended against Davenant, who
in the first draught was characterised by the name of Bilboa.... It is
said, likewise, that Sir Robert Howard was once meant. The design was
probably to ridicule the reigning poet, whoever he might be. Much of the
personal satire, to which it might owe its first reception, is now lost
or obscured.']
We then walked to the Pantheon. The first view of it did not strike us
so much as Ranelagh, of which he said, the '_coup d'oeil_ was the finest
thing he had ever seen.' The truth is, Ranelagh is of a more beautiful
form; more of it, or rather indeed the whole _rotunda_, appears at once,
and it is better lighted. However, as Johnson observed, we saw the
Pantheon in time of mourning, when there was a dull uniformity; whereas
we had seen Ranelagh when the view was enlivened with a gay profusion of
colours[1]. Mrs. Bosville[2], of Gunthwait, in Yorkshire, joined us, and
entered into conversation with us. Johnson said to me afterwards, 'Sir,
this is a mighty intelligent lady.'
[Footnote 1: 'The Pantheon,' wrote Horace Walpole (_Letters_, v. 489), a
year later than this conversation, 'is still the most beautiful edifice
in England.' Gibbon, a few weeks before Johnson's visit to the Pantheon,
wrote:--'In point of _ennui_ and magnificence, the Pantheon is the
wonder of the eighteenth century and of the British empire.' Gibbon's
_Misc. Works_, ii. 74. Evelina, in Miss Burners novel (vol. i. Letter
xxiii.) contrasts the Pantheon and Ranelagh:--'I was extremely struck on
entering the Pantheon with the beauty of the building, which greatly
surpassed whatever I could have expected or imagined. Yet it has more
the appearance of a chapel than of a place of diversion; and, though I
was quite charmed with the magnificence of the room, I felt that I could
not be as gay and thoughtless there as at Ranelagh; for there is
something in it which rather inspires awe and solemnity than mirth and
pleasure.' Ranelagh was at Chelsea, the Pantheon was in Oxford-street.
See _ante_, ii. 119, and _post_, Sept. 23, 1777.]
[Footnote 2: Her husband, Squire Godfrey Bosville, Boswell (_post_, Aug.
24, 1780), calls 'my Yorkshire _chief_.' Their daughter was one of the
young ladies whom he passes in review in his letters to Temple. 'What
say you to my marrying? I intend next autumn to visit Miss Bosville in
Yorkshire; but I fear, my lot being cast in Scotland, that beauty would
not be content. She is, however, grave; I shall see.' _Letters of
Boswell_, p. 81. She married Sir A. Macdonald, Johnson's inhospitable
host in Sky (_ante_, ii. 157).]
I said there was not half a guinea's worth of pleasure in seeing this
place. JOHNSON. 'But, Sir, there is half a guinea's worth of inferiority
to other people in not having seen it.' BOSWELL. 'I doubt, Sir, whether
there are many happy people here.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, there are many
happy people here. There are many people here who are watching hundreds,
and who think hundreds are watching them[1].'
[Footnote 1: In _The Adventurer_, No. 120, Johnson, after describing 'a
gay assembly,' continues:--'The world in its best state is nothing more
than a larger assembly of beings, combining to counterfeit happiness
which they do not feel.' _Works_, iv. 120.]
Happening to meet Sir Adam Fergusson[1], I presented him to Dr. Johnson.
Sir Adam expressed some apprehension that the Pantheon would encourage
luxury. 'Sir, (said Johnson,) I am a great friend to publick amusements;
for they keep people from vice. You now (addressing himself to me,)
would have been with a wench, had you not been here.--O! I forgot you
were married.'
[Footnote 1: 'Sir Adam Fergusson, who by a strange coincidence of
chances got in to be member of Parliament for Ayrshire in 1774, was the
great-grandson of a messenger. I was talking with great indignation that
the whole (? old) families of the county should be defeated by an
upstart.' _Boswelliana_, p. 283.]
Sir Adam suggested, that luxury corrupts a people, and destroys the
spirit of liberty. JOHNSON. 'Sir, that is all visionary. I would not
give half a guinea to live under one form of government rather than
another. It is of no moment to the happiness of an individual[1]. Sir,
the danger of the abuse of power is nothing to a private man. What
Frenchman is prevented from passing his life as he pleases?' SIR ADAM.
'But, Sir, in the British constitution it is surely of importance to
keep up a spirit in the people, so as to preserve a balance against the
crown.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I perceive you are a vile Whig. Why all this
childish jealousy of the power of the crown? The crown has not power
enough. When I say that all governments are alike, I consider that in no
government power can be abused long. Mankind will not bear it. If a
sovereign oppresses his people to a great degree, they will rise and cut
off his head. There is a remedy in human nature against tyranny, that
will keep us safe under every form of government[2]. Had not the people
of France thought themselves honoured as sharing in the brilliant
actions of Lewis XIV, they would not have endured him; and we may say
the same of the King of Prussia's people.' Sir Adam introduced the
ancient Greeks and Romans. JOHNSON. 'Sir, the mass of both of them were
barbarians. The mass of every people must be barbarous where there is no
printing, and consequently knowledge is not generally diffused.
Knowledge is diffused among our people by the news-papers[3].' Sir Adam
mentioned the orators, poets, and artists of Greece. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I am
talking of the mass of the people. We see even what the boasted
Athenians were. The little effect which Demosthenes's orations had upon
them, shews that they were barbarians[4].'
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, ii. 60.]
[Footnote 2: See _ante_, i. 424. Hume wrote of the judgment of Charles
I. (_Hist. of Eng._ vii. 148):--'If ever, on any occasion, it were
laudable to conceal truth from the populace, it must be confessed that
the doctrine of resistance affords such an example; and that all
speculative reasoners ought to observe with regard to this principle the
same cautious silence which the laws in every species of government have
ever prescribed to themselves.']
[Footnote 3: 'All foreigners remark that the knowledge of the common
people of England is greater than that of any other vulgar. This
superiority we undoubtedly owe to the rivulets of intelligence [i. e.
the newspapers] which are continually trickling among us, which every
one may catch, and of which every one partakes.' _Idler_, No. 7. In a
later number (30), he speaks very contemptuously of news-writers. 'In
Sir Henry Wotton's jocular definition, _an ambassador is said to be a
man of virtue sent abroad to tell lies for the advantage of his country.
A newswriter is _a man without virtue, who writes lies at home for his
own profit_.']
[Footnote 4: See _post_, April 3, 1773.]
Sir Adam was unlucky in his topicks; for he suggested a doubt of the
propriety of Bishops having seats in the House of Lords. JOHNSON. 'How
so, Sir? Who is more proper for having the dignity of a peer, than a
Bishop, provided a Bishop be what he ought to be; and if improper
Bishops be made, that is not the fault of the Bishops, but of those who
make them.'
On Sunday, April 5, after attending divine service at St. Paul's church,
I found him alone. Of a schoolmaster[1] of his acquaintance, a native of
Scotland, he said, 'He has a great deal of good about him; but he is
also very defective in some respects. His inner part is good, but his
outer part is mighty aukward. You in Scotland do not attain that nice
critical skill in languages, which we get in our schools in England. I
would not put a boy to him, whom I intended for a man of learning. But
for the sons of citizens, who are to learn a little, get good morals,
and then go to trade, he may do very well.'
[Footnote 1: Probably Mr. Elphinston. See _ante_, i. 210, _post_, April
19, 1773, and April i, 1779. Dr. A. Carlyle (_Auto._ p. 493) wrote of a
friend:--'He had overcome many disadvantages of his education, for he
had been sent to a Jacobite seminary of one Elphinstone at Kensington,
where his body was starved and his mind also. He returned to Edinburgh
to college. He had hardly a word of Latin, and was obliged to work hard
with a private tutor.']
I mentioned a cause in which I had appeared as counsel at the bar of the
General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, where a _Probationer_[1],
(as one licensed to preach, but not yet ordained, is called,) was
opposed in his application to be inducted, because it was alledged that
he had been guilty of fornication five years before. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir,
if he has repented, it is not a sufficient objection. A man who is good
enough to go to heaven, is good enough to be a clergyman.' This was a
humane and liberal sentiment. But the character of a clergyman is more
sacred than that of an ordinary Christian. As he is to instruct with
authority, he should be regarded with reverence, as one upon whom divine
truth has had the effect to set him above such transgressions, as men
less exalted by spiritual habits, and yet upon the whole not to be |
