1740-1795
[Sidenote: Littell’s _Living Age_, 1870. *]
“The sketch by Sir Thomas Lawrence of Boswell, prefixed to Mr.
Murray’s edition of Johnson’s _Life_, illustrates with striking
accuracy the saying of Hazlitt, that ‘A man’s life may be a lie to
himself and others; and yet a picture painted of him by a great
artist would probably stamp his character.’ The busy vanity, the
garrulous complacency of the man when out of sight of Dr. Johnson,
as he may be supposed to have been when the portrait was etched, are
brought out with all the humour and point of a caricature, without
its exaggeration. The thin nose, that seems to sniff the air for
information, has the sharp shrewdness of a Scotch accent. The small
eyes, too much relieved by the high-arched eyebrows, twinkle with
the exultation of victories not won--an expression contracted from a
vigilant watching of Dr. Johnson, who, when he spoke, spoke always for
victory; the bleak lips, making by their protrusion an angle almost
the size of the nose, proclaim Boswell’s love of ‘drawing people
out,’ a thirst for information at once droll and impertinent; but
which finally embodied itself in a form that has been pronounced by
Lord Macaulay the most interesting biography in the world; the ample
chins, fold upon fold, tell of a strong affection, gross, and almost
sottish, for port wine and tainted meats; whilst the folded arms,
the slightly-inclined posture, the strong and arrogant setting of
the head, exhibit the self-importance, the shrewd understanding, not
to be obscurated by vanity, the imperturbable but artless egotism,
the clever inquisitiveness which have made him the best-despised
and best-read writer in English literature. The portraits handed
down to us of Boswell by his contemporaries are most graphic; some
of them are malignant, some bitter, some temperate; and those that
are temperate are probably just.... Miss Burney thus caricatures the
appearance of Boswell in Johnson’s presence, when intent upon his
note-taking: ‘The moment that voice burst forth, the attention which
it excited on Mr. Boswell amounted almost to pain. His eyes goggled
with eagerness; he leant his ear almost on the shoulder of the doctor,
and his mouth dropped down to catch every syllable that was uttered;
nay, he seemed not only to dread losing a word, but to be anxious not
to miss a breathing, as if hoping from it latently or mystically some
information.’”