As the Doctor's own associates[110] have lamented the existence of this

beautiful and important passage, I have only to say, that _Poor_

Lyttleton (as the Doctor calls him) patronized Fielding, and that the

Rambler patronizes William Shaw: That his Lordship was an elegant

writer: That he did not adopt Johnson's new words: That _Lexiphanes_ was

dedicated to him: That he was a great and an amiable man: And that he is

_dead_.

With all his affectation of hard words, the Doctor becomes at once

intelligible when he wishes to reprobate a rival genius, or insult the

ashes of a benefactor. In defiance of Addison, and a thousand other

_shallow fellows_, he asserts that Milton 'both in prose and verse had

formed his stile by a _perverse_ and _pedantick_ principle[111].'

Speaking of Mr Walmsley, he says, 'At this man's table I enjoyed many

chearful and agreeable hours, with companions such as are not often to

be found.--I am not able to name a man of equal knowledge. He never

received _my_ notions with contempt.--He was one of the first friends

whom literature procured me,--and I hope that at least my _gratitude_

made me worthy of his notice. It may be doubted whether a day now

passes, in which I have not some advantage from his friendship[112].'

But then, 'He was a WHIG with ALL the virulence and malevolence of _his_

party.' This is a most beautiful conclusion; and quite in the Doctor's

stile. His accusation is incredible. A monster, such as he draws here,

can seldom deform existence.

We are told that at St. Andrews Cardinal Beaton 'was murdered by the

ruffians of Reformation[113].' And it seems to be the fashion of the

day, to censure that action. Yet it is allowed on all hands that

Wishart's doctrine, in spite of its _incomprehensibilities_, was better

than Popery--that Beaton, a profligate usurping Priest, had committed

every human vice--that, without civil authority, he dragged our Apostle

to the stake--and that his avowed design was to expell or exterminate

the whole Protestant party. Had the Cardinal been permitted to complete

his plan, we durst not at this day have disputed, 'Whether it is better

to worship a piece of rotten wood[114], or throw it in the fire?' It is

therefore evident that to kill this tyrant was highly proper and

laudable. We may just as well censure the centurion who slew Caligula.

When a philosopher, who truly deserves that title, was once in

conversation reprobating Melvil, he was interrupted by this, simple

question, Whether if his own antagonist had conducted _him_ to the

stake, he would not have pardoned a pupil for avenging his blood? 'I

would most certainly,' he replied, and such must be the real sentiments

of all men, whatever they may chuse to print. When we attempt to hide

the feelings of nature, that we may support a favourite system, we never

fail to become ridiculous. In this age and nation, if a magistrate shall

rise above the law; if he rob us of life with the most barbarous

exulation; if his guilt equal whatever history hath recorded; if he want

nothing but the purple and the legions to rival Domitian, the voice of

nature will be heard. The brave will reject such unmanly, such fatal

refinements of speculation. Like Hambden and Melvil, they will stand

forth in defence of themselves, and their posterity. They will relieve

their fellow citizens from temporal perdition. They will drive insolence

and injustice from the seat of power. They will exult in danger, and

rush to revenge or death. They will plunge their swords in the heart of

their oppressor; or they will teach him, like Charles, to atone upon the

scaffold for the tears and the blood of his people; and while in the

eyes of their countrymen, they read their glory[115], they will perhaps

reflect with a smile, that some slavish pedant, some pensioned traitor

to the rights of mankind, is one day to mark them out as objects of

public detestation[116].

'The theatre, when it is under any other direction, is peopled by such

characters as were never seen, conversing in a language which was never

heard, upon topics which will never arise in the commerce of

mankind.--Upon every other stage the universal agent is love, by whose

power all good and evil is distributed, and every action quickened or

retarded. To bring a lover, a lady and a rival into the fable; to

entangle them in contradictory obligations, perplex them with

oppositions of interest, and harrass them with violence of desires

inconsistent with each other; to make them meet in rapture, and part in

agony; to fill their mouths with hyperbolical joy, and outrageous

sorrow; to distress them as nothing human ever was distressed; to

deliver them as nothing human ever was delivered, is the business of a

modern dramatist. For this probability is violated, life is

misrepresented, and language is depraved[117].' The weakest of Dr

Johnson's admirers will blush in reading this passage. He very fairly

denies every degree of merit, to every dramatic writer, of every age or

nation, Shakespeare alone excepted. What can be more ridiculous than

this?

'Every man finds his mind more strongly seized by the tragedies of

Shakespeare than of any other writer; others please us by particular

speeches, but he always makes us anxious for the event, by exciting

restless and _unquenchable_[118] curiosity, and compelling him that

reads his work to read it through[119].' But the Doctor overthrows all

this within a few pages, for Shakespeare has '_perhaps_ not _one_ play,

which, if it were now exhibited as the work of a cotemporary writer,

_would be heard to the conclusion_[120].' The Rambler cannot always

suppress his thorough contempt for the taste of the public. He no doubt

laughs internally at their folly in admiring him.

* * * * *

I proceed to the Doctor's English Dictionary, and shall begin with

quoting the remarks already made by a judicious friend, on this subject.

'Among the many foibles of the human race, we may justly reckon this to

be one, that when they have once got any thing really useful, they apply

it in all cases, proper or improper, till at last they make it quite

ridiculous. Nothing can possibly be more useful than a just and accurate

_definition_, because by this only we are able to distinguish one thing

from another. It is obvious, however, that _in definitions we ought

always to define a thing less known, by one which is more so, and those

things which are known to every body, neither can be defined, nor ought

we to attempt a definition of them at all; because we must either

explain them by themselves, or by something less known than themselves,

both of which give our definitions the most ridiculous air imaginable_.

'A certain right reverend gentleman, not many miles from Edinburgh, and

whom, out of my great regard for the cloth, I put in the first place,

gave the following definition of a thief. "A thief," says he, "my

friends, is a man of a _thievish disposition_." Now though this

definition is somewhat imperfect, for a thief also exerts that _thievish

disposition_ which lurks in his breast, I intend to take it for my

model, on account of its great conformity to many of the definitions

given by the most celebrated authors.--I remember to have seen in one of

the Reviews a definition of _Nature_, which began in the following

manner. "Nature is that _innate_ celestial fire."--The rest has in truth

escaped my memory, though I remember the Reviewers indecently compared

it to the following lines, which they say were a description of a

dog-fish.

'And his evacuations

Were made _a parte post_.

_A parte post!_ these words so hard

In Latin though I speak 'em,

Their meaning in plain English is,

He made pure _Album Graecum_.

'This definition rather goes a step beyond that of the clergyman, as it

explains the words _a parte post_ by _Album Graecum_, which are more

obscure than the former, and neither of which, out of my great regard to

decency, I choose to translate.--Whether Dr Johnson composed his

dictionary, after hearing the above-mentioned clergyman's sermon, or

not, I cannot tell, but he seems very much to have taken him for his

model, even though the said clergyman was a Presbyterian, and Dr Johnson

has an aversion at Presbyterians. Thus, when he tells us, that _short_

is _not long_, and that _long_ is _not short_, he certainly might as

well have told us that a thief is a man of a thievish disposition. I am

surprised indeed how the intellects of a human creature could be

obscured by pedantry, and the love of words, to such a degree, as to

insert this distinction in a book, pretended to be written for the

instruction and benefit of society. Much more am I surprised how the

authors of all dictionaries of the English language have followed the

same ridiculous plan, as if they had positively intended to make their

books as little valuable as possible. Nay, I am almost tempted to think,

that the readers have a natural inclination to peruse nonsense, and

cannot be satisfied without a considerable quantity of that ingredient

in every book which falls into their hands. _Long_ and _short_ are terms

merely relative, and which every body knows; to explain them therefore

by one another, is to explain them by themselves. But besides this

ridiculous way of explaining a thing by itself, pedants, of whom we may

justly reckon Dr Johnson the Prince, have fallen upon a most ingenious

method of explaining the English by the _Latin_, or some other language

still further beyond the reach of vulgar ken. Thus, when Dr Johnson

defines _fire_, he tells us it is the _igneous element_. _To water_ (the

verb) he tells us, is to _irrigate_, by which no doubt we are greatly

edified. _To do_ is to _practise_, and _to practise_ is _to do_, &c.

'But the most curious kind of definitions are these oenigmatical ones

of our author, by which he industriously prevents the reader from

knowing the meaning of the words he explains. Thus, the _hair_ he tells

us is one of the common _teguments_ of the body; but this will not

distinguish it from the skin, and shews the extreme poverty of judgment

under which the Doctor laboured, when he could not point out the

distinguishing mark between the hair and skin. A dog is "a domestic

animal remarkably various in his species," but this does not

distinguish him, except to natural historians, from a cow, a sheep, or

a hog; for of these there are also different _breeds_ or species. A cat

is "a domestic animal that catches mice;" but this may be said of an

owl, or a dog; for a dog will catch mice if he sees them, though he does

not watch for them as a cat does. Nay, if we happen to overlook the word

_animal_, or not to understand it, we may mistake the cat for a

mouse-trap. The earth, according to our learned author, is "the element

distinct from fire, air, or water;" but this may be light or electricity

as well as earth.--Air is "the element encompassing the terraqueous

globe;" but an unlearned reader would be very apt to mistake this for

the ocean, &c.

'When the Doctor comes to his _learned_ definitions, he outdoes, if

possible, his oenigmatical ones. Network is "any thing _reticulated_

or _decussated_ at equal distances." A nose is "the prominence on the

face which is the organ of scent, and the emunctory of the brain."--The

heart is "the muscle which by its contraction and dilatation propells

the blood through the course of circulation, and is therefore considered

as the source of vital motion."--Now let any person consider for whom

such strange definitions can possibly be intended. To give instruction

to the ignorant they certainly are not designed; neither can they give

satisfaction to the learned, because they are not accurate. The nose,

for instance, he says is the emunctory of the brain; but every anatomist

knows that it performs no such office, neither hath the nose any

communication with the brain, but by means of its nerves.--Yet this

dictionary is reckoned the best English one extant. What then must the

rest be; or what shall we think of those who mistake a book, stuffed

with such stupid assemblages of words, for a _learned_ composition?

Definitions undoubtedly are necessary, but not such as give us no

information, or lead us astray. Neither can any thing shew the

sagacity, or strength of judgment, which a man possesses, more clearly

than his being able to define exactly what he speaks about; while such

blundering descriptions as these, above quoted, shew nothing but the

Doctor's insignificance[121].'

That the courteous reader may be qualified to judge for himself, I shall

now insert a variety of quotations from this wonderful, amazing,

admirable, astonishing, incomparable, immortal, and inimitable book. Too

much cannot be said in its praise. I shall however let it speak for

itself. Every page, indeed, is so pregnant with superexcellent beauties,

that in selecting them, the critic's situation resembles that of the

schoolman's ass between two bundles of hay; his only difficulty is where

to begin. The pious husband of Bathsheba had asked 'What is MAN?' But

let it be told in Rome, and published in the streets of Paris, to the

honour of the English nation, that her greatest philosopher has received

300l. a-year for informing us that--

MAN is a 'Human being. 2. Not a woman. 3. Not a boy. 4. _Not a beast._'

Woman. 'The female of the human race.' Boy. '1. A male child; not a

girl. 2. One in the state of _adolescence_.' Girl. 'A young woman or

child.' (_Female_ child he should have said.) Damsel. 'A young

gentlewoman; a wench; a country lass.' Lass. 'A girl; a maid; A young

woman.' Wench. '1. A young woman. 2. A young woman in contempt. 3. A

strumpet.' Strumpet. 'A whore, a prostitute.' Whore. '1. A woman who

converses unlawfully with men; a fornicatress; an adultress; a strumpet.

2. a prostitute; a woman who receives men for money.' To whore, _v. n._

(from the noun) 'To converse unlawfully with the other sex.' To whore,

_v. a._ 'To corrupt with regard to chastity.' Whoredom, _s._ (from

whore) 'Fornication.' (Here follow several other definitions on the

same pure subject, which every body understands as well as Dr Johnson.)

Young. 'Being in the first part of life. _Not old._' Youngster, younker.

'A young person.' (I pass by _ten_ other articles, about _youthful_

compounded of _youth_ and _full_, &c. &c. because young people are in no

danger of thinking themselves old.) Yuck, _s._ (_jocken_, Dutch.)

'Itch,' Old. 'Past the middle part of life; _not young_; not new;

ancient; not modern. OF OLD. Long ago; from ancient times.' Hum, interj.

'A sound implying doubt and deliberation, _Shakespeare_.' Fiddlefaddle,

_s._ (a cant word) 'Trifles.' Fiddlefaddle, _a._ 'Trifling; giving

trouble.'

(----His own example strengthens all his laws,

Sam is himself the true sublime he draws.)

Fiddler, _s._ (from _fiddle_) 'A musician, one that plays upon a

fiddle.' Here follow fiddlestick, compounded of fiddle and stick, and

warranted an English word by Hudibras; and Fiddle-string, _s._ (Fiddle

and string) 'the string of a fiddle. _Arbuthnot._' Sheep's eye. '_A

modest and diffident look, such as lovers cast at their mistresses._'

Love. 'Lewdness.' And _thirteen_ other explanations. _Lovemonger._ 'One

who deals in affairs love.' (Besides about twenty other articles

concerning this subject of equal obscurity and importance.) Sweetheart.

'A lover or mistress.' Mistress. 'A woman beloved and courted; a whore,

a concubine.' Wife. 'A woman that has a husband.' A Runner. 'One who

runs.' Husband. 'The _correlative_ to wife.' Shrew. '_A peevish,

malignant, clamorous, spiteful, vexatious, turbulent woman._' Scold. '_A

clamorous, rude, mean, low, foul mouthed woman._' Henpecked, _a._ (_hen_

and _pecked_) 'Governed by the wife.' Strap. 'A narrow long slip of

cloth or _leather_.' Whip. 'An instrument of correction _tough_ and

_pliant_.' Cuckingstool, _s._ 'An engine invented for the punishment of

scolds and _unquiet_ women.' Cuckoldom. 'The state of a cuckold.'

(Cuckold, _s._ Cuckold, _v. a._ Cuckoldy, _a._ and Cuckoldmaker, _s._

(compounded of _cuckold_, and _maker_) I leave out, as the reader is,

perhaps, already initiated in the mysteries of that subject.) Arse, _s._

'The buttocks' To hang an arse. 'To be tardy, sluggish' Buttock. 'The

rump, the part near the _tail_' Rump. '1. The end of the backbone. 2.

The buttocks.' Thimble. 'A metal cover by which women (yea and _taylors_

too Doctor) secure their fingers from the needle.' Needle. 'A small

instrument pointed at one end to pierce cloth, and _perforated_ at the

other to receive the thread.' Gunpowder. '_The powder put into guns to

be fired._' Maidenhead. Maidenhode. Maidenhood. 'Virginity, virgin

purity, freedom from contamination.' Oh, _interj_ 'An exclamation

denoting pain, sorrow, or surprise.' Hope '_That which gives_ HOPE. _The

object of_ HOPE.' Fear. '1. Dread; horror; apprehension of danger. 2.

Awe; dejection of mind. 3. Anxiety, solicitude,' &c. Impatience. 'Heat

of passion; _inability_ to suffer delay, eagerness.' Virgin. '_A woman

not a mother._' Virginity. 'Maidenhead; unacquaintance with man.' Fart.

'Wind from behind. _Suckling_' To fart. 'To break wind behind. _Swift._'

Marriage. 'The act of uniting a man and woman for life.' Repentance.

'Sorrow for any thing past.' Kiss. 'Salute given by joining lips.'

Kisser. 'One that Kisses.' To piss, _v. n._ 'To make water.

_L'Estrange._' Piss _s._ (from the verb) 'Urine; animal water. _Pope._'

Pissburnt, _a._ 'Stained with urine.' Pedant. 'A man vain of _low_

knowledge.'

Of these extracts, I suppose opinion is uniform. Every man who reads

them, reads them with contempt. To tell us that a _man_ is not a

_beast_, seems to be an insult, rather than a definition. To say, that

_young_ is _not old_, and, that _old_ is _not young, of old_, &c. is to

say nothing at all. There is a medium; there is a state between these

periods of life. And his definitions convey no meaning; for a man may be

_not old_ tho' he is _not young_. Many articles, such as whoring,

whoremaster, whoremonger, whorishly, &c. are as indecent, as they are

impertinent, and seem only designed to divert school boys. Hum, Yuck,

Fiddle, Fiddler, Fiddlefaddle, _s._ Fiddlefaddle, _a._ Fiddlestick,

Fiddlestring, Thimble, Needle, Gunpowder, Hope, O, and O--and Oh, and

twenty-eight or thirty explanations of the particle _on_, are left

without remark to the reader's penetration. Some are well enough

acquainted with a _maidenhead_, and such as are not, will be no wiser by

reading Dr Johnson: For he says, That it is _virginity_, and that again

is explained (like more than half the words in his book) by the word it

explains. Neither can a _maidenhead_ ensure freedom from _pollution_;

for a girl may be polluted, without losing her _maidenhead_; and on the

other hand, the Doctor dare not say that a _married_ woman is, for that

reason, _polluted_. Love, he calls _lewdness_, and he may as well say,

that _light_ is _darkness_. His admirers will answer, that he also gives

the right meaning; but let them tell, why he gave any besides the right

meaning, and why he collected such a load of blunders into his book. Or

since he did collect them, why he did not mark them down as wrong. For

in the preface to his octavo, he tells us, that it is written for

'explaining terms of science.' But to select twenty barbarous

misapplications of a word, is not explaining the word, but only

_confusion worse confounded_. Indeed that whole preface is a piece of

the most profound nonsense, which ever insulted the common sense of the

world. A virgin, is _a woman not a mother_. But many wives, and many

concubines too, have never propagated the species, though they had (as

Othello says) a thousand times committed the act of shame. From this

literary chaos, a foreigner would be apt to imagine that _they_ were

_virgins_.

Corking pin. 'A pin of the largest size.' Bum. '_The part upon which we

sit._' Butter. 'An _unctuous_ substance.' Buttertooth. '_The_ great

broad foretooth.' Off. prep. '_Not on._' Potato. 'An _esculent_ root.'

Turnip. 'A white _esculent_ root.' Parsley, 'A plant.' Parsnep. 'A

plant.' Colliflower. '_Cauliflower._' Cauliflower. 'A species of

_cabbage_.' Cabbage. 'A plant.' Pit. 'A hole in the ground.' Pin. 'A

short wire, with a sharp point, and round head, used by women to fasten

their cloaths.' Plate. 'A small shallow vessel of metal (or of stone or

wood Doctor) on which meat is eaten.' Play. '_Not work._' Poker. 'The

iron bar with which _men_ stir the fire.' Pork. 'Swine's flesh

_unsalted_.' (Here you may find _Porker_, _Porkeater_, _Porket_,

_Porkling_, with all their derivations, definitions, and authorities.)

Porridge. 'Food made by boiling meat in water.' Porridge-pot,

(_porridge_ and _pot_) 'The pot in which meat is boiled for a family.'

Porringer, (from _porridge_) 'a vessel in which broth is eaten.' Part.

'_Some thing less than the whole._' And _thirteen_ other

_ramifications_. Pulse. '_Oscillation_; _vibration_.' Puff. 'A quick

blast with the mouth.' Vid. in same page, Pudding, _s._ from the

_Swedish_, (which is a mistake, for it is from the French _boudin_)

_Pudding Pie_, from _Pudding_ and _Pie_, and _Pudding-time_, from

_Pudding_ and _time_. Puddle, _s._ Puddle, _v. a._ & Puddly, &c. Shadow.

'_Opacity_, darkness, _Shade._' Shade. 'The cloud or _opacity_ made by

interception of the light.' Darkness. 'Obscurity. _Umbrage._' Shadiness,

'The state of being _shady_; _umbrageousness_.' Shady. 'Full of _shade_;

MILDLY _gloomy_.'

(No light, but rather darkness visible.)

Sevenscore. 'Seven times twenty.' Shadowy. 'Dark, _opake_.' To yawn. 'To

gape, to _oscitate_,' Yawn, _s._ '_Oscitation_, HIATUS.' Yea. 'Yes.'

Yes, 'A term of affirmation, the affirmative particle opposed to _no_.'

See also in the same place, Yest. Year. (12 months) Yesterday, _s._ The

day last past, the next day before to-day. Yesterday, _ad._ Yesternight,

_s._ Yesternight, _ad._ Yet, _con._ Yet, _ad._ Nine times explained.

Vent. 'A small _aperture_; a hole; a _spiracle_.' Wind. 'A _flowing_

wave of air; _flatulence_; windiness.' Winker. 'One who winks.' To

wink. 'To shut the eyes.'

(No, Sir, unless you open them again directly.)

Window. 'An _aperture_ in a building by which air and light are

_intromitted_.' _N. B._ Almost the whole of the same page is daubed over

with such jargon. Said. 'Aforesaid.' Scoundrel. 'A mean rascal; a low

petty villain.' Rascal. 'A mean fellow; a scoundrel.' Villain. 'A wicked

wretch.' Wretch. 'A miserable mortal.' No, _ad._ 'The word of refusal.

2. The word of denial.' No, _a._ '1. Not any; NONE. 2. _No one_; NONE:

_not any one_.' (Had this word _none_ altered its meaning, before the

Doctor got to the end of the line?) Nobody. (_No_ and _body_) 'No one;

not any one.' (See also Nod, _v. a._ Nod, _s._ Nodder. Noddle. Noddy,

&c.) None. '1. Not one. 2. Not any. 3. Not other.' Nothing. '_Negation_

of being; not any thing,' and _seventeen_ other definitions. Afore. (_a_

and _fore_) '_before_, nearer in place to any thing.'

'There is a certain line, beyond which, if ridicule attempts to go, it

becomes itself ridiculous, and there is a sphere of criticism in that

particular region, in which, if the critic plays his batteries on too

_contemptible_ objects, he must unavoidably depart from his proper

dignity, and must himself be an object of the raillery he would

convey[122].'

HEAR THE DOCTOR ON MUSIC.

Music. '1. The science of _harmonical_ sounds. 2. Instrumental, or vocal

_harmony_.' Harmony. 'Just proportion of sound.' Melody. 'Music;

_harmony_ of sound.' Tune. '_Tune_ is a diversity of notes put

together.' _Locke_, _Milton_, _Dryden_. Tenour, _s._ 'A _sound_ in

music.'

Deformities of Samuel Johnson, Selected from His Works · 第 4 / 8 段