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[47], 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[48].
'Burke is a great man by nature, and is expected soon to attain civil
greatness[49]. I am grown greater too, for I have maintained the
newspapers these many weeks[50]; 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.
'I wish you were in my new study[51]; I am now writing the first letter
in it. I think it looks very pretty about me.
'Dyer[52] 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[53]; all
THE CLUB subscribes.
'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[54].'
'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[55], 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[56] 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[57].
'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[58]. I continue to
rise tolerably well, and read more than I did. I hope something will yet
come on it[59]. I am, Sir,
'Your most affectionate servant,
'SAM JOHNSON'
'May 10, 1766,
Johnson's-court, Fleet-street.'
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 ----[60]. I will punish you for it, by telling you that your Latin
wants correction[61]. 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[62].
'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[63].
'The study of the law is what you very justly term it, copious and
generous[64]; 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[65]. 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.
'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[66]. To prefer one future mode of life to
another, upon just reasons, requires faculties which it has not pleased
our Creator to give us.
'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[67];
Vade, age_."
'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[68]----
'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 primA|_, instead of _spei alterA|_.
_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 nudAi 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 _prA|sidium_, as
Horace calls MA|cenas. So, Aćneid 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 '_ExcelsA| familiA| de Bute_ spes
prima;' and my Lord Mountstuart, as his eldest son, to be '_spes
altera_.' So in Aćneid xii. l. 168, after having mentioned Pater Aćneas,
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 _RomA|_."
'You think _alterA|_ 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 _alterA|_
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 alterA|
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 quA|--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. Aćneid i. 1. 286,
"_Nascetur pulchrd Trojanus_ origine _CA|sar_."
And in Aćneid x. 1. 618,
"_Ille tamen nostrAc 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.[69] 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.
* * * * *
'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.[70]
He published nothing this year in his own name; but the noble
dedication[71][*] 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,'[72][*] 'Translation of a Latin
Epitaph on Sir Thomas Hanmer,'[73][Dagger] 'Friendship, an Ode,'[74][*]
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'[75]; [Dagger] and, 'The happy Life.'[76][Dagger]
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.'[77] 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.'[78] '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.'
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,[79] a
race of mortals whom, I suppose, no other man wishes to resemble.[80]
'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.[81]
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.
'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,[82] 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.
'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[83].
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[84].
'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[85], 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.'
'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[86].
'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[87], alike distinguished by his genius, misfortunes,
and misconduct, published this year a poem, called _The Race_, by
'Mercurius Spur, Esq.[88],' 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.'
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[89] 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[90]. '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.'
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_[91]: the pamphlet therefore against
Sir Charles was not printed.[92]
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[93]. He had frequently
visited those splendid rooms and noble collection of books[94], 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.
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[95].
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[96], 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[97] 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.'
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[98]. 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[99], 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[100].' 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.
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[101]; 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[102]. 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[103]. 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[104]. 'Why truly,
(said the King,) when once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty
well at an end.'
His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord Lyttelton's
_History_, which was then just published[105]. 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.'
The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill[106]. 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[107].'
'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[108].
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[109]. The King then asked him if there were any other literary
journals published in this kingdom, except the _Monthly_ and _Critical
Reviews_[110]; 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[111]. This the King said he was sorry to hear.
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[112].
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[113]. 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[114].'
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.'
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[115], 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.
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[116], 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[117].'
I received no letter from Johnson this year; nor have I discovered any
of the correspondence[118] 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[119]; and I cannot omit
an affecting and solemn scene there, as related by himself[120]:
'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[121].'
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[122].'
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[123]; but its
authour was one Campbell, a Scotch purser in the navy. The ridicule
consisted in applying Johnson's 'words of large meaning[124]' 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[125].
'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[126],
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_[127]. 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[128] the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind.'
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_[129], I returned to London
[130], very desirous to see Dr. Johnson, and hear him upon the subject.
I found he was at Oxford, with his friend Mr. Chambers[131], 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[132], 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[133].
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[134].'
Talking of some of the modern plays, he said _False Delicacy_ was
totally void of character[135]. He praised Goldsmith's _Good-natured Man_;
said, it was the best comedy that had appeared since _The Provoked
Husband_[136], 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[137]. '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.'
It always appeared to me that he estimated the compositions of
Richardson too highly, and that he had an unreasonable prejudice against
Fielding[138]. 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[139].' 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.
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[140]. I asked him, if _The
Suspicious Husband_[141] did not furnish a well-drawn character, that of
Ranger. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; Ranger is just a rake, a mere rake[142], and a
lively young fellow, but no _character_'.
The great Douglas Cause[143] 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.'
'I have not been troubled for a long time with authours desiring my
opinion of their works[144]. 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.'
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[145], 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[146].'
Dr. John Campbell[147], 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[148], 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[149]. 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.'
Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learning[150]. '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[151].'
Of Guthrie[152], 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.'
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[153], '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[154]. He is an echo of Voltaire.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we have
Lord Kames[155].'
JOHNSON. 'You _have_ Lord Kames. Keep him; ha, ha, ha! We don't envy you
him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson?'