It rained all day, and gave Dr. Johnson an impression of that
incommodiousness of climate in the west, of which he has taken notice in
his _Journey_[1019]; but, being well accommodated, and furnished with
variety of books, he was not dissatisfied.
Some gentlemen of the neighbourhood came to visit my father; but there
was little conversation. One of them asked Dr. Johnson how he liked the
Highlands. The question seemed to irritate him, for he answered, 'How,
Sir, can you ask me what obliges me to speak unfavourably of a country
where I have been hospitably entertained? Who _can_ like the
Highlands[1020]? I like the inhabitants very well[1021].' The gentleman
asked no more questions.
Let me now make up for the present neglect, by again gleaning from the
past. At Lord Monboddo's, after the conversation upon the decrease of
learning in England, his Lordship mentioned _Hermes_, by Mr. Harris of
Salisbury[1022], as the work of a living authour, for whom he had a
great respect. Dr. Johnson said nothing at the time; but when we were in
our post-chaise, he told me, he thought Harris 'a coxcomb.' This he
said of him, not as a man, but as an authour[1023]; and I give his
opinions of men and books, faithfully, whether they agree with my own or
not. I do admit, that there always appeared to me something of
affectation in Mr. Harris's manner of writing; something of a habit of
clothing plain thoughts in analytick and categorical formality. But all
his writings are imbued with learning; and all breathe that philanthropy
and amiable disposition, which distinguished him as a man[1024].
At another time, during our Tour, he drew the character of a rapacious
Highland Chief[1025] with the strength of Theophrastus or la Bruyère;
concluding with these words:--'Sir, he has no more the soul of a Chief,
than an attorney who has twenty houses in a street, and considers how
much he can make by them.'
He this day, when we were by ourselves, observed, how common it was for
people to talk from books; to retail the sentiment's of others, and not
their own; in short, to converse without any originality of thinking. He
was pleased to say, 'You and I do not talk from books[1026].'