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[470], 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[471],' truly

ridiculous[472]. 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[473]; 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[474]; and may I presume to add that of the present Earl of

Marchmont[475], 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.'

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_[476].

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.'

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[477] 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[478].'

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[479].' 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[480].' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, ideas must be given you by means of

something which you know[481]: 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.'

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[482].' 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.'

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[483]. 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[484].' 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.'

I mentioned Elwal, the heretick, whose trial Sir John Pringle[485] 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[486]; so Mr. Elwal

failed in his scheme of making himself a man of great consequence[487].'

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[488]. 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.

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_[489] 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.'

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[490].'

He censured Ruffhead's _Life of Pope_[491]; and said, 'he knew nothing of

Pope, and nothing of poetry.' He praised Dr. Joseph Warton's Essay on

Pope[492]; 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.'

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[493].'

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_[494].' 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[495].'

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.'

'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[496].'

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[497] 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.

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[498]. Mrs. Bosville[499], of Gunthwait, in Yorkshire, joined us,

and entered into conversation with us. Johnson said to me afterwards,

'Sir, this is a mighty intelligent lady.'

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[500].'

Happening to meet Sir Adam Fergusson[501], 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.'

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[502]. 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[503]. 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[504].' 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[505].'

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[506] 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.'

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_[507],

(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

excluded from heaven, have been betrayed into by the predominance of

passion. That clergymen may be considered as sinners in general, as all

men are, cannot be denied; but this reflection will not counteract their

good precepts so much, as the absolute knowledge of their having been

guilty of certain specifick immoral acts. I told him, that by the rules

of the Church of Scotland, in their _Book of Discipline_, if a

_scandal_, as it is called, is not prosecuted for five years, it cannot

afterwards be proceeded upon, 'unless it be of a _heinous nature_, or

again become flagrant;' and that hence a question arose, whether

fornication was a sin of a heinous nature; and that I had maintained,

that it did not deserve that epithet, in as much as it was not one of

those sins which argue very great depravity of heart: in short, was not,

in the general acceptation of mankind, a heinous sin. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir,

it is not a heinous sin. A heinous sin is that for which a man is

punished with death or banishment[508].' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, after I had

argued that it was not an heinous sin, an old clergyman rose up, and

repeating the text of scripture denouncing judgement against

whoremongers[509], asked, whether, considering this, there could be any

doubt of fornication being a heinous sin.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, observe

the word _whoremonger_. Every sin, if persisted in, will become heinous.

Whoremonger is a dealer in whores[510], as ironmonger is a dealer in iron.

But as you don't call a man an ironmonger for buying and selling a

pen-knife; so you don't call a man a whoremonger for getting one wench

with child[511].'

I spoke of the inequality of the livings of the clergy in England, and

the scanty provisions of some of the Curates. JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir;

but it cannot be helped. You must consider, that the revenues of the

clergy are not at the disposal of the state, like the pay of the army.

Different men have founded different churches; and some are better

endowed, some worse. The State cannot interfere and make an equal

division of what has been particularly appropriated. Now when a

clergyman has but a small living, or even two small livings, he can

afford very little to a curate.'

He said, he went more frequently to church when there were prayers only,

than when there was also a sermon, as the people required more an

example for the one than the other; it being much easier for them to

hear a sermon, than to fix their minds on prayer.

On Monday, April 6, I dined with him at Sir Alexander Macdonald's, where

was a young officer in the regimentals of the Scots Royal, who talked

with a vivacity, fluency, and precision so uncommon, that he attracted

particular attention. He proved to be the Honourable Thomas Erskine,

youngest brother to the Earl of Buchan, who has since risen into such

brilliant reputation at the bar in Westminster-hall[512].

Fielding being mentioned, Johnson exclaimed, 'he was a blockhead[513];'

and upon my expressing my astonishment at so strange an assertion, he

said, 'What I mean by his being a blockhead is that he was a barren

rascal.' BOSWELL. 'Will you not allow, Sir, that he draws very natural

pictures of human life?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is of very low life.

Richardson used to say, that had he not known who Fielding was, he

should have believed he was an ostler[514]. Sir, there is more knowledge

of the heart in one letter of Richardson's, than in all _Tom Jones_[515].

I, indeed, never read _Joseph Andrews_[516].' ERSKINE, 'Surely, Sir,

Richardson is very tedious.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, if you were to read

Richardson for the story, your impatience would be so much fretted that

you would hang yourself[517]. But you must read him for the sentiment, and

consider the story as only giving occasion to the sentiment.'--I have

already given my opinion of Fielding; but I cannot refrain from

repeating here my wonder at Johnson's excessive and unaccountable

depreciation of one of the best writers that England has produced. _Tom

Jones_ has stood the test of publick opinion with such success, as to

have established its great merit, both for the story, the sentiments,

and the manners, and also the varieties of diction, so as to leave no

doubt of its having an animated truth of execution throughout[518].

A book of travels, lately published under the title of _Coriat Junior_,

and written by Mr. Paterson[519], was mentioned. Johnson said, this book

was an imitation of Sterne[520], and not of Coriat, whose name Paterson

had chosen as a whimsical one. 'Tom Coriat, (said he,) was a humourist

about the court of James the First. He had a mixture of learning, of

wit, and of buffoonery. He first travelled through Europe, and published

his travels[521]. He afterwards travelled on foot through Asia, and had

made many remarks; but he died at Mandoa, and his remarks were lost.'

We talked of gaming, and animadverted on it with severity. JOHNSON.

'Nay, gentlemen, let us not aggravate the matter. It is not roguery to

play with a man who is ignorant of the game, while you are master of it,

and so win his money; for he thinks he can play better than you, as you

think you can play better than he; and the superiour skill carries it.'

ERSKINE. 'He is a fool, but you are not a rogue.' JOHNSON. 'That's much

about the truth, Sir. It must be considered, that a man who only does

what every one of the society to which he belongs would do, is not a

dishonest man. In the republick of Sparta, it was agreed, that stealing

was not dishonourable, if not discovered. I do not commend a society

where there is an agreement that what would not otherwise be fair, shall

be fair; but I maintain, that an individual of any society, who

practises what is allowed, is not a dishonest man.' BOSWELL. 'So then,

Sir, you do not think ill of a man who wins perhaps forty thousand

pounds in a winter?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I do not call a gamester a dishonest

man; but I call him an unsocial man, an unprofitable man. Gaming is a

mode of transferring property without producing any intermediate good.

Trade gives employment to numbers, and so produces intermediate good.'

Mr. Erskine told us, that when he was in the island of Minorca, he not

only read prayers, but preached two sermons to the regiment[522]. He

seemed to object to the passage in scripture where we are told that the

angel of the Lord smote in one night forty thousand Assyrians[523]. 'Sir,

(said Johnson,) you should recollect that there was a supernatural

interposition; they were destroyed by pestilence. You are not to suppose

that the angel of the LORD went about and stabbed each of them with a

dagger, or knocked them on the head, man by man.'

After Mr. Erskine was gone, a discussion took place, whether the present

Earl of Buchan, when Lord Cardross, did right to refuse to go Secretary

of the Embassy to Spain, when Sir James Gray, a man of inferiour rank,

went Ambassadour[524]. Dr. Johnson said, that perhaps in point of interest

he did wrong; but in point of dignity he did well. Sir Alexander

insisted that he was wrong; and said that Mr. Pitt intended it as an

advantageous thing for him. 'Why, Sir, (said Johnson,) Mr. Pitt might

think it an advantageous thing for him to make him a vintner, and get

him all the Portugal trade; but he would have demeaned himself strangely

had he accepted of such a situation. Sir, had he gone Secretary while

his inferiour was Ambassadour, he would have been a traitor to his rank

and family.'

I talked of the little attachment which subsisted between near relations

in London. 'Sir, (said Johnson,) in a country so commercial as ours,

where every man can do for himself, there is not so much occasion for

that attachment. No man is thought the worse of here, whose brother was

hanged. In uncommercial countries, many of the branches of a family must

depend on the stock; so, in order to make the head of the family take

care of them, they are represented as connected with his reputation,

that, self-love being interested, he may exert himself to promote their

interest. You have first large circles, or clans; as commerce increases,

the connection is confined to families. By degrees, that too goes off,

as having become unnecessary, and there being few opportunities of

intercourse. One brother is a merchant in the city, and another is an

officer in the guards. How little intercourse can these two have!'

I argued warmly for the old feudal system[525]. Sir Alexander opposed it,

and talked of the pleasure of seeing all men free and independent.

JOHNSON. 'I agree with Mr. Boswell that there must be a high

satisfaction in being a feudal Lord; but we are to consider, that we

ought not to wish to have a number of men unhappy for the satisfaction

of one[526].'--I maintained that numbers, namely, the vassals or

followers, were not unhappy; for that there was a reciprocal

satisfaction between the Lord and them: he being kind in his authority

over them; they being respectful and faithful to him.

On Thursday, April 9, I called on him to beg he would go and dine with

me at the Mitre tavern. He had resolved not to dine at all this day, I

know not for what reason; and I was so unwilling to be deprived of his

company, that I was content to submit to suffer a want, which was at

first somewhat painful, but he soon made me forget it; and a man is

always pleased with himself when he finds his intellectual inclinations

predominate.

He observed, that to reason philosophically on the nature of prayer, was

very unprofitable.

Talking of ghosts[527], he said, he knew one friend, who was an honest man

and a sensible man, who told him he had seen a ghost, old Mr. Edward

Cave, the printer at St. John's Gate. He said, Mr. Cave did not like to

talk of it, and seemed to be in great horrour whenever it was mentioned.

BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, what did he say was the appearance?' JOHNSON. 'Why,

Sir, something of a shadowy being.'

I mentioned witches, and asked him what they properly meant. JOHNSON.

'Why, Sir, they properly mean those who make use of the aid of evil

spirits.' BOSWELL. 'There is no doubt, Sir, a general report and belief

of their having existed[528].' JOHNSON. 'You have not only the general

report and belief, but you have many voluntary solemn confessions.' He

did not affirm anything positively upon a subject which it is the

fashion of the times to laugh at as a matter of absurd credulity. He

only seemed willing, as a candid enquirer after truth, however strange

and inexplicable, to shew that he understood what might be urged for

it[529].

On Friday, April 10, I dined with him at General Oglethorpe's, where we

found Dr. Goldsmith.

Armorial bearings having been mentioned, Johnson said they were as

ancient as the siege of Thebes, which he proved by a passage in one of

the tragedies of Euripides[530].

I started the question whether duelling was consistent with moral duty.

The brave old General fired at this, and said, with a lofty air,

'Undoubtedly a man has a right to defend his honour.' GOLDSMITH,

(turning to me.) 'I ask you first, Sir, what would you do if you were

affronted?' I answered I should think it necessary to fight[531]. 'Why

then, (replied Goldsmith,) that solves the question.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir,

it does not solve the question. It does not follow that what a man would

do is therefore right.' I said, I wished to have it settled, whether

duelling was contrary to the laws of Christianity. Johnson immediately

entered on the subject, and treated it in a masterly manner; and so far

as I have been able to recollect, his thoughts were these: 'Sir, as men

become in a high degree refined, various causes of offence arise; which

are considered to be of such importance, that life must be staked to

atone for them, though in reality they are not so. A body that has

received a very fine polish may be easily hurt. Before men arrive at

this artificial refinement, if one tells his neighbour he lies, his

neighbour tells him he lies; if one gives his neighbour a blow, his

neighbour gives him a blow: but in a state of highly polished society,

an affront is held to be a serious injury. It must therefore be

resented, or rather a duel must be fought upon it; as men have agreed to

banish from their society one who puts up with an affront without

fighting a duel. Now, Sir, it is never unlawful to fight in

self-defence. He, then, who fights a duel, does not fight from passion

against his antagonist, but out of self-defence; to avert the stigma of

the world, and to prevent himself from being driven out of society. I

could wish there was not that superfluity of refinement; but while such

notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel[532].'

Let it be remembered, that this justification is applicable only to the

person who _receives_ an affront. All mankind must condemn the

aggressor.

The General told us, that when he was a very young man, I think only

fifteen[533], serving under Prince Eugene of Savoy, he was sitting in a

company at table with a Prince of Wirtemberg, The Prince took up a glass

of wine, and, by a fillip, made some of it fly in Oglethorpe's face.

Here was a nice dilemma. To have challenged him instantly, might have

fixed a quarrelsome character upon the young soldier: to have taken no

notice of it might have been considered as cowardice. Oglethorpe,

therefore, keeping his eye upon the Prince, and smiling all the time, as

if he took what his Highness had done in jest, said 'Man Prince,--'(I

forget the French words he used, the purport however was.) 'That's a

good joke; but we do it much better in England;' and threw a whole glass

of wine in the Prince's face. An old General who sat by, said, '_Il a

bien fait, mon Prince, vous l'avez commencA(C)_:' and thus all ended in

good humour.'

Dr. Johnson said, 'Pray, General, give us an account of the siege of

Belgrade[534].' Upon which the General, pouring a little wine upon the

table, described every thing with a wet finger: 'Here we were, here were

the Turks,' &c. &c. Johnson listened with the closest attention.

A question was started, how far people who disagree in a capital point

can live in friendship together. Johnson said they might. Goldsmith said

they could not, as they had not the _idem velle atque idem nolle_[535]--

the same likings and the same aversions. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you must

shun the subject as to which you disagree. For instance, I can live very

well with Burke: I love his knowledge, his genius, his diffusion, and

affluence of conversation; but I would not talk to him of the Rockingham

party.' GOLDSMITH. 'But, Sir, when people live together who have

something as to which they disagree, and which they want to shun, they

will be in the situation mentioned in the story of Bluebeard: "You may

look into all the chambers but one." But we should have the greatest

inclination to look into that chamber, to talk of that subject.'

JOHNSON, (with a loud voice.) 'Sir, I am not saying that _you_ could

live in friendship with a man from whom you differ as to some point: I

am only saying that _I_ could do it. You put me in mind of Sappho in

Ovid[536].'

Goldsmith told us, that he was now busy in writing a natural history[537],

and, that he might have full leisure for it, he had taken lodgings, at a

farmer's house, near to the six mile-stone, on the Edgeware road, and

had carried down his books in two returned post-chaises. He said, he

believed the farmer's family thought him an odd character, similar to

that in which the _Spectator_ appeared to his landlady and her children:

he was _The Gentleman_[538]. Mr. Mickle, the translator of _The

Lusiad_[539], and I went to visit him at this place a few days afterwards.

He was not at home; but having a curiosity to see his apartment, we went

in and found curious scraps of descriptions of animals, scrawled upon

the wall with a black lead pencil[540].

The subject of ghosts being introduced, Johnson repeated what he had

told me of a friend of his, an honest man, and a man of sense, having

asserted to him, that he had seen an apparition[541]. Goldsmith told us,

he was assured by his brother, the Reverend Mr. Goldsmith, that he also

had seen one. General Oglethorpe told us, that Prendergast, an officer

in the Duke of Marlborough's army, had mentioned to many of his friends,

that he should die on a particular day. That upon that day a battle took

place with the French; that after it was over, and Prendergast was still

alive, his brother officers, while they were yet in the field, jestingly

asked him, where was his prophecy now. Prendergast gravely answered. 'I

shall die, notwithstanding what you see.' Soon afterwards, there came a

shot from a French battery, to which the orders for a cessation of arms

had not yet reached, and he was killed upon the spot. Colonel Cecil, who

took possession of his effects, found in his pocket-book the following

solemn entry:

[Here the date.] 'Dreamt--or ----.[542] Sir John Friend meets me:' (here

the very day on which he was killed, was mentioned.) Prendergast had

been connected with Sir John Friend, who was executed for high treason.

General Oglethorpe said, he was with Colonel Cecil when Pope came and

enquired into the truth of this story, which made a great noise at the

time, and was then confirmed by the Colonel.

On Saturday, April 11, he appointed me to come to him in the evening,

when he should be at leisure to give me some assistance for the defence

of Hastie, the schoolmaster of Campbelltown, for whom I was to appear in

the House of Lords. When I came, I found him unwilling to exert himself.

I pressed him to write down his thoughts upon the subject. He said,

'There's no occasion for my writing. I'll talk to you.' He was, however,

at last prevailed on to dictate to me, while I wrote as follows:--

'The charge is, that he has used immoderate and cruel correction.

Correction, in itself, is not cruel; children, being not reasonable, can

be governed only by fear. To impress this fear, is therefore one of the

first duties of those who have the care of children. It is the duty of a

parent; and has never been thought inconsistent with parental

tenderness. It is the duty of a master, who is in his highest exaltation

when he is _loco parentis_. Yet, as good things become evil by excess,

correction, by being immoderate, may become cruel. But when is

correction immoderate? When it is more frequent or more severe than is

required _ad monendum et docendum_, for reformation and instruction. No

severity is cruel which obstinacy makes necessary; for the greatest

cruelty would be to desist, and leave the scholar too careless for

instruction, and too much hardened for reproof. Locke, in his treatise

of Education, mentions a mother, with applause, who whipped an infant

eight times before she had subdued it; for had she stopped at the

seventh act of correction, her daughter, says he, would have been

ruined[543]. The degrees of obstinacy in young minds, are very different;

as different must be the degrees of persevering severity. A stubborn

scholar must be corrected till he is subdued. The discipline of a school

is military. There must be either unbounded licence or absolute

authority. The master, who punishes, not only consults the future

happiness of him who is the immediate subject of correction; but he

propagates obedience through the whole school; and establishes

regularity by exemplary justice. The victorious obstinacy of a single

boy would make his future endeavours of reformation or instruction

totally ineffectual. Obstinacy, therefore, must never be victorious.

Yet, it is well known, that there sometimes occurs a sullen and hardy

resolution, that laughs at all common punishment, and bids defiance to

all common degrees of pain. Correction must be proportioned to

occasions. The flexible will be reformed by gentle discipline, and the

refractory must be subdued by harsher methods. The degrees of

scholastick, as of military punishment, no stated rules can ascertain.

It must be enforced till it overpowers temptation; till stubbornness

becomes flexible, and perverseness regular. Custom and reason have,

indeed, set some bounds to scholastick penalties. The schoolmaster

inflicts no capital punishments; nor enforces his edicts by either death

or mutilation. The civil law has wisely determined, that a master who

strikes at a scholar's eye shall be considered as criminal. But

punishments, however severe, that produce no lasting evil, may be just

and reasonable, because they may be necessary. Such have been the

punishments used by the respondent. No scholar has gone from him either

blind or lame, or with any of his limbs or powers injured or impaired.

They were irregular, and he punished them: they were obstinate, and he

enforced his punishment. But, however provoked, he never exceeded the

limits of moderation, for he inflicted nothing beyond present pain; and

how much of that was required, no man is so little able to determine as

those who have determined against him;--the parents of the offenders. It

has been said, that he used unprecedented and improper instruments of

correction. Of this accusation the meaning is not very easy to be found.

No instrument of correction is more proper than another, but as it is

better adapted to produce present pain without lasting mischief.

Whatever were his instruments, no lasting mischief has ensued; and

therefore, however unusual, in hands so cautious they were proper. It

has been objected, that the respondent admits the charge of cruelty, by

producing no evidence to confute it. Let it be considered, that his

scholars are either dispersed at large in the world, or continue to

inhabit the place in which they were bred. Those who are dispersed

cannot be found; those who remain are the sons of his persecutors, and

are not likely to support a man to whom their fathers are enemies. If it

be supposed that the enmity of their fathers proves the justice of the

charge, it must be considered how often experience shews us, that men

who are angry on one ground will accuse on another; with how little

kindness, in a town of low trade, a man who lives by learning is

regarded; and how implicitly, where the inhabitants are not very rich, a

rich man is hearkened to and followed. In a place like Campbelltown, it

is easy for one of the principal inhabitants to make a party. It is easy

for that party to heat themselves with imaginary grievances. It is easy

for them to oppress a man poorer than themselves; and natural to assert

the dignity of riches, by persisting in oppression. The argument which

attempts to prove the impropriety of restoring him to the school, by

alledging that he has lost the confidence of the people, is not the

subject of juridical consideration; for he is to suffer, if he must

suffer, not for their judgement, but for his own actions. It may be

convenient for them to have another master; but it is a convenience of

their own making. It would be likewise convenient for him to find

another school; but this convenience he cannot obtain. The question is

not what is now convenient, but what is generally right. If the people

of Campbelltown be distressed by the restoration of the respondent, they

are distressed only by their own fault; by turbulent passions and

unreasonable desires; by tyranny, which law has defeated, and by malice,

which virtue has surmounted.'

'This, Sir, (said he,) you are to turn in your mind, and make the best

use of it you can in your speech.'

Of our friend, Goldsmith, he said, 'Sir, he is so much afraid of being

unnoticed, that he often talks merely lest you should forget that he is

in the company.' BOSWELL. 'Yes, he stands forward.' JOHNSON. 'True, Sir;

but if a man is to stand forward, he should wish to do it not in an

aukward posture, not in rags, not so as that he shall only be exposed to

ridicule.' BOSWELL. 'For my part, I like very well to hear honest

Goldsmith talk away carelessly.' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir; but he should

not like to hear himself.'

On Tuesday, April 14, the decree of the Court of Session in the

schoolmaster's cause was reversed in the House of Lords, after a very

eloquent speech by Lord Mansfield, who shewed himself an adept in school

discipline, but I thought was too rigorous towards my client[544]. On the

evening of the next day I supped with Dr. Johnson, at the Crown and

Anchor tavern, in the Strand, in company with Mr. Langton and his

brother-in-law, Lord Binning. I repeated a sentence of Lord Mansfield's

speech, of which, by the aid of Mr. Longlands, the solicitor on the

other side, who obligingly allowed me to compare his note with my own, I

have a full copy: 'My Lords, severity is not the way to govern either

boys or men.' 'Nay, (said Johnson,) it is the way to _govern_ them. I

know not whether it be the way to _mend_ them.'

I talked of the recent expulsion of six students from the University of

Oxford, who were methodists and would not desist from publickly praying

and exhorting[545]. JOHNSON. 'Sir, that expulsion was extremely just and

proper[546]. What have they to do at an University who are not willing to

be taught, but will presume to teach? Where is religion to be learnt but

at an University? Sir, they were examined, and found to be mighty

ignorant fellows.' BOSWELL. 'But, was it not hard, Sir, to expel them,

for I am told they were good beings?' JOHNSON. 'I believe they might be

good beings; but they were not fit to be in the University of Oxford[547].

A cow is a very good animal in the field; but we turn her out of a

garden.' Lord Elibank used to repeat this as an illustration uncommonly

happy.

Desirous of calling Johnson forth to talk, and exercise his wit, though

I should myself be the object of it, I resolutely ventured to undertake

the defence of convivial indulgence in wine, though he was not to-night

in the most genial humour[548]. After urging the common plausible topicks,

I at last had recourse to the maxim, _in vino veritas_, a man who is

well warmed with wine will speak truth[549]. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, that may

be an argument for drinking, if you suppose men in general to be liars.

But, Sir, I would not keep company with a fellow, who lyes as long as he

is sober, and whom you must make drunk before you can get a word of

truth out of him[550].'

Mr. Langton told us he was about to establish a school upon his estate,

but it had been suggested to him, that it might have a tendency to make

the people less industrious. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. While learning to read

and write is a distinction, the few who have that distinction may be the

less inclined to work; but when every body learns to read and write, it

is no longer a distinction[551]. A man who has a laced waistcoat is too

fine a man to work; but if every body had laced waistcoats, we should

have people working in laced waistcoats. There are no people whatever

more industrious, none who work more, than our manufacturers[552]; yet

they have all learnt to read and write. Sir, you must not neglect doing

a thing immediately good, from fear of remote evil;--from fear of its

being abused[553]. A man who has candles may sit up too late, which he

would not do if he had not candles; but nobody will deny that the art of

making candles, by which light is continued to us beyond the time that

the sun gives us light, is a valuable art, and ought to be preserved.'

BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, would it not be better to follow Nature; and go to

bed and rise just as nature gives us light or with-holds it?' JOHNSON.

'No, Sir; for then we should have no kind of equality in the partition

of our time between sleeping and waking. It would be very different in

different seasons and in different places. In some of the northern parts

of Scotland how little light is there in the depth of winter!'

We talked of Tacitus[554], and I hazarded an opinion, that with all his

merit for penetration, shrewdness of judgement, and terseness of

expression, he was too compact, too much broken into hints, as it were,

and therefore too difficult to be understood. To my great satisfaction,

Dr. Johnson sanctioned this opinion. 'Tacitus, Sir, seems to me rather

to have made notes for an historical work, than to have written a

history[555].'

At this time it appears from his _Prayers and Meditations_, that he had

been more than commonly diligent in religious duties, particularly in

reading the Holy Scriptures. It was Passion Week, that solemn season

which the Christian world has appropriated to the commemoration of the

mysteries of our redemption, and during which, whatever embers of

religion are in our breasts, will be kindled into pious warmth.

I paid him short visits both on Friday and Saturday, and seeing his

large folio Greek Testament before him, beheld him with a reverential

awe, and would not intrude upon his time[556]. While he was thus employed

to such good purpose, and while his friends in their intercourse with

him constantly found a vigorous intellect and a lively imagination, it

is melancholy to read in his private register, 'My mind is unsettled and

my memory confused. I have of late turned my thoughts with a very

useless earnestness upon past incidents. I have yet got no command over

my thoughts; an unpleasing incident is almost certain to hinder my

rest[557].' What philosophick heroism was it in him to appear with such

manly fortitude to the world, while he was inwardly so distressed! We

may surely believe that the mysterious principle of being 'made perfect

through suffering[558]' was to be strongly exemplified in him.

On Sunday, April 19, being Easter-day, General Paoli and I paid him a

visit before dinner. We talked of the notion that blind persons can

distinguish colours by the touch. Johnson said, that Professor

Sanderson[559] mentions his having attempted to do it, but that he found

he was aiming at an impossibility; that to be sure a difference in the

surface makes the difference of colours; but that difference is so fine,

that it is not sensible to the touch. The General mentioned jugglers and

fraudulent gamesters, who could know cards by the touch. Dr. Johnson

said, 'the cards used by such persons must be less polished than ours

commonly are.'

We talked of sounds. The General said, there was no beauty in a simple

sound, but only in an harmonious composition of sounds. I presumed to

differ from this opinion, and mentioned the soft and sweet sound of a

fine woman's voice. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, if a serpent or a toad uttered

it, you would think it ugly.' BOSWELL. 'So you would think, Sir, were a

beautiful tune to be uttered by one of those animals.' JOHNSON. 'No,

Sir, it would be admired. We have seen fine fiddlers whom we liked as

little as toads.' (laughing.)

Talking on the subject of taste in the arts, he said, that difference of

taste was, in truth, difference of skill[560]. BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, is

there not a quality called taste[561], which consists merely in perception

or in liking? For instance, we find people differ much as to what is the

best style of English composition. Some think Swift's the best; others

prefer a fuller and grander way of writing.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you must

first define what you mean by style, before you can judge who has a good

taste in style, and who has a bad. The two classes of persons whom you

have mentioned don't differ as to good and bad. They both agree that

Swift has a good neat style[562]; but one loves a neat style, another

loves a style of more splendour. In like manner, one loves a plain coat,

another loves a laced coat; but neither will deny that each is good in

its kind.'

While I remained in London this spring, I was with him at several other

times, both by himself and in company. I dined with him one day at the

Crown and Anchor tavern, in the Strand, with Lord Elibank, Mr. Langton,

and Dr. Vansittart of Oxford. Without specifying each particular day, I

have preserved the following memorable things.

I regretted the reflection in his Preface to Shakspeare against Garrick,

to whom we cannot but apply the following passage: 'I collated such

copies as I could procure, and wished for more, but have not found the

collectors of these rarities very communicative[563].' I told him, that

Garrick had complained to me of it, and had vindicated himself by

assuring me, that Johnson was made welcome to the full use of his

collection, and that he left the key of it with a servant, with orders

to have a fire and every convenience for him. I found Johnson's notion

was, that Garrick wanted to be courted for them, and that, on the

contrary, Garrick should have courted him, and sent him the plays of his

own accord. But, indeed, considering the slovenly and careless manner in

which books were treated by Johnson, it could not be expected that

scarce and valuable editions should have been lent to him[564].

A gentleman[565] having to some of the usual arguments for drinking added

this: 'You know, Sir, drinking drives away care, and makes us forget

whatever is disagreeable. Would not you allow a man to drink for that

reason?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, if he sat next _you_.'

I expressed a liking for Mr. Francis Osborne's works, and asked him what

he thought of that writer. He answered, 'A conceited fellow. Were a man

to write so now, the boys would throw stones at him.' He, however, did

not alter my opinion of a favourite authour, to whom I was first

directed by his being quoted in The Spectator[566], and in whom I have

found much shrewd and lively sense, expressed indeed in a style somewhat

quaint, which, however, I do not dislike. His book has an air of

originality. We figure to ourselves an ancient gentleman talking to us.

When one of his friends endeavoured to maintain that a country gentleman

might contrive to pass his life very agreeably, 'Sir (said he,) you

cannot give me an instance of any man who is permitted to lay out his

own time, contriving not to have tedious hours[567].' This observation,

however, is equally applicable to gentlemen who live in cities, and are

of no profession.

He said, 'there is no permanent national character; it varies according

to circumstances. Alexander the Great swept India: now the Turks sweep

Greece.'

A learned gentleman who in the course of conversation wished to inform

us of this simple fact, that the Counsel upon the circuit at Shrewsbury

were much bitten by fleas, took, I suppose, seven or eight minutes in

relating it circumstantially. He in a plenitude of phrase told us, that

large bales of woollen cloth were lodged in the town-hall;--that by

reason of this, fleas nestled there in prodigious numbers; that the

lodgings of the counsel were near to the town-hall;--and that those

little animals moved from place to place with wonderful agility. Johnson

sat in great impatience till the gentleman had finished his tedious

narrative, and then burst out (playfully however,) 'It is a pity, Sir,

that you have not seen a lion; for a flea has taken you such a time,

that a lion must have served you a twelve-month[568].'

He would not allow Scotland to derive any credit from Lord Mansfield;

for he was educated in England. 'Much (said he,) may be made of a

Scotchman, if he be _caught_ young[569].'

Talking of a modern historian and a modern moralist, he said, 'There is

more thought in the moralist than in the historian. There is but a

shallow stream of thought in history.' BOSWELL. 'But surely, Sir, an

historian has reflection.' JOHNSON. 'Why yes, Sir; and so has a cat when

she catches a mouse for her kitten. But she cannot write like ****;

neither can ****.'[570]

He said, 'I am very unwilling to read the manuscripts of authours, and

give them my opinion[571]. If the authours who apply to me have money, I

bid them boldly print without a name; if they have written in order to

get money, I tell them to go to the booksellers, and make the best

bargain they can.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, if a bookseller should bring you

a manuscript to look at?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I would desire the

bookseller to take it away.'

I mentioned a friend of mine who had resided long in Spain, and was

unwilling to return to Britain. JOHNSON. 'Sir, he is attached to some

woman.' BOSWELL. 'I rather believe, Sir, it is the fine climate which

keeps him there.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, how can you talk so? What is

climate to happiness[572]? Place me in the heart of Asia, should I not be

exiled? What proportion does climate bear to the complex system of human

life? You may advise me to go to live at Bologna to eat sausages. The

sausages there are the best in the world; they lose much by being

carried.'

On Saturday, May 9, Mr. Dempster[573] and I had agreed to dine by

ourselves at the British Coffee-house. Johnson, on whom I happened to

call in the morning, said he would join us, which he did, and we spent a

very agreeable day, though I recollect but little of what passed.

He said, 'Walpole was a minister given by the King to the people: Pitt

was a minister given by the people to the King,--as an adjunct.'

'The misfortune of Goldsmith in conversation is this: he goes on without

knowing how he is to get off. His genius is great, but his knowledge is

small. As they say of a generous man, it is a pity he is not rich, we

may say of Goldsmith, it is a pity he is not knowing. He would not keep

his knowledge to himself.'

Before leaving London this year, I consulted him upon a question purely

of Scotch law. It was held of old, and continued for a long period, to

be an established principle in that law, that whoever intermeddled with

the effects of a person deceased, without the interposition of legal

authority to guard against embezzlement, should be subjected to pay all

the debts of the deceased, as having been guilty of what was technically

called _vicious intromission_. The Court of Session had gradually

relaxed the strictness of this principle, where the interference proved

had been inconsiderable. In a case[574] which came before that Court the

preceding winter, I had laboured to persuade the Judges to return to the

ancient law. It was my own sincere opinion, that they ought to adhere to

it; but I had exhausted all my powers of reasoning in vain. Johnson

thought as I did; and in order to assist me in my application to the

Court for a revision and alteration of the judgement, he dictated to me

the following argument:--

'This, we are told, is a law which has its force only from the long

practice of the Court: and may, therefore, be suspended or modified as

the Court shall think proper.

'Concerning the power of the Court to make or to suspend a law, we have

no intention to inquire. It is sufficient for our purpose that every

just law is dictated by reason; and that the practice of every legal

Court is regulated by equity. It is the quality of reason to be

invariable and constant; and of equity, to give to one man what, in the

same case, is given to another. The advantage which humanity derives

from law is this: that the law gives every man a rule of action, and

prescribes a mode of conduct which shall entitle him to the support and

protection of society. That the law may be a rule of action, it is

necessary that it be known; it is necessary that it be permanent and

stable. The law is the measure of civil right; but if the measure be

changeable, the extent of the thing measured never can be settled.

'To permit a law to be modified at discretion, is to leave the community

without law. It is to withdraw the direction of that publick wisdom, by

which the deficiencies of private understanding are to be supplied. It

is to suffer the rash and ignorant to act at discretion, and then to

depend for the legality of that action on the sentence of the Judge. He

that is thus governed, lives not by law, but by opinion: not by a

certain rule to which he can apply his intention before he acts, but by

an uncertain and variable opinion, which he can never know but after he

has committed the act on which that opinion shall be passed. He lives by

a law, (if a law it be,) which he can never know before he has offended

it. To this case may be justly applied that important principle, _misera

est servitus ubi jus est aut incognitum aut vagum_. If Intromission be

not criminal till it exceeds a certain point, and that point be

unsettled, and consequently different in different minds, the right of

Intromission, and the right of the Creditor arising from it, are all

_jura vaga_, and, by consequence, are _jura incognita_; and the result

can be no other than a _misera servitus_, an uncertainty concerning the

event of action, a servile dependence on private opinion.

'It may be urged, and with great plausibility, that there may be

Intromission without fraud; which, however true, will by no means

justify an occasional and arbitrary relaxation of the law. The end of

law is protection as well as vengeance. Indeed, vengeance is never used

but to strengthen protection. That society only is well governed, where

life is freed from danger and from suspicion; where possession is so

sheltered by salutary prohibitions, that violation is prevented more

frequently than punished. Such a prohibition was this, while it operated

with its original force. The creditor of the deceased was not only

without loss, but without fear. He was not to seek a remedy for an

injury suffered; for, injury was warded off.

'As the law has been sometimes administered, it lays us open to wounds,

because it is imagined to have the power of healing. To punish fraud

when it is detected, is the proper act of vindictive justice; but to

prevent frauds, and make punishment unnecessary, is the great employment

of legislative wisdom. To permit Intromission, and to punish fraud, is

to make law no better than a pitfall. To tread upon the brink is safe;

but to come a step further is destruction. But, surely, it is better to

enclose the gulf, and hinder all access, than by encouraging us to

advance a little, to entice us afterwards a little further, and let us

perceive our folly only by our destruction.

'As law supplies the weak with adventitious strength, it likewise

enlightens the ignorant with extrinsick understanding. Law teaches us to

know when we commit injury, and when we suffer it. It fixes certain

marks upon actions, by which we are admonished to do or to forbear them.

_Qui sibi bene temperat in licitis_, says one of the fathers, _nunquam

cadet in illicita_. He who never intromits at all, will never intromit

with fraudulent intentions.

'The relaxation of the law against vicious intromission has been very

favourably represented by a great master of jurisprudence[575], whose

words have been exhibited with unnecessary pomp, and seem to be

considered as irresistibly decisive. The great moment of his authority

makes it necessary to examine his position. "Some ages ago, (says he,)

before the ferocity of the inhabitants of this part of the island was

subdued, the utmost severity of the civil law was necessary, to restrain

individuals from plundering each other. Thus, the man who intermeddled

irregularly with the moveables of a person deceased, was subjected to

all the debts of the deceased without limitation. This makes a branch of

the law of Scotland, known by the name of _vicious intromission_; and so

rigidly was this regulation applied in our Courts of Law, that the most

trifling moveable abstracted _mala fide_, subjected the intermeddler to

the foregoing consequences, which proved in many instances a most

rigorous punishment. But this severity was necessary, in order to subdue

the undisciplined nature of our people. It is extremely remarkable, that

in proportion to our improvement in manners, this regulation has been

gradually softened, and applied by our sovereign Court with a sparing

hand."

'I find myself under a necessity of observing, that this learned and

judicious writer has not accurately distinguished the deficiencies and

demands of the different conditions of human life, which, from a degree

of savageness and independence, in which all laws are vain, passes or

may pass, by innumerable gradations, to a state of reciprocal benignity,

in which laws shall be no longer necessary. Men are first wild and

unsocial, living each man to himself, taking from the weak, and losing

to the strong. In their first coalitions of society, much of this

original savageness is retained. Of general happiness, the product of

general confidence, there is yet no thought. Men continue to prosecute

their own advantages by the nearest way; and the utmost severity of the

civil law is necessary to restrain individuals from plundering each

other. The restraints then necessary, are restraints from plunder, from

acts of publick violence, and undisguised oppression. The ferocity of

our ancestors, as of all other nations, produced not fraud, but rapine.

They had not yet learned to cheat, and attempted only to rob. As manners

grow more polished, with the knowledge of good, men attain likewise

dexterity in evil. Open rapine becomes less frequent, and violence gives

way to cunning. Those who before invaded pastures and stormed houses,

now begin to enrich themselves by unequal contracts and fraudulent

intromissions. It is not against the violence of ferocity, but the

circumventions of deceit, that this law was framed; and I am afraid the

increase of commerce, and the incessant struggle for riches which

commerce excites, give us no prospect of an end speedily to be expected

of artifice and fraud. It therefore seems to be no very conclusive

reasoning, which connects those two propositions;--"the nation is become

less ferocious, and therefore the laws against fraud and _covin_[576]

shall be relaxed."

'Whatever reason may have influenced the Judges to a relaxation of the

law, it was not that the nation was grown less fierce; and, I am afraid,

it cannot be affirmed, that it is grown less fraudulent.

'Since this law has been represented as rigorously and unreasonably

penal, it seems not improper to consider what are the conditions and

qualities that make the justice or propriety of a penal law.

'To make a penal law reasonable and just, two conditions are necessary,

and two proper. It is necessary that the law should be adequate to its

end; that, if it be observed, it shall prevent the evil against which it

is directed. It is, secondly, necessary that the end of the law be of

such importance, as to deserve the security of a penal sanction. The

other conditions of a penal law, which though not absolutely necessary,

are to a very high degree fit, are, that to the moral violation of the

law there are many temptations, and that of the physical observance

there is great facility.

'All these conditions apparently concur to justify the law which we are

now considering. Its end is the security of property; and property very

often of great value. The method by which it effects the security is

efficacious, because it admits, in its original rigour, no gradations of

injury; but keeps guilt and innocence apart, by a distinct and definite

limitation. He that intromits, is criminal; he that intromits not, is

innocent. Of the two secondary considerations it cannot be denied that

both are in our favour. The temptation to intromit is frequent and

strong; so strong and so frequent, as to require the utmost activity of

justice, and vigilance of caution, to withstand its prevalence; and the

method by which a man may entitle himself to legal intromission, is so

open and so facile, that to neglect it is a proof of fraudulent

intention: for why should a man omit to do (but for reasons which he

will not confess,) that which he can do so easily, and that which he

knows to be required by the law? If temptation were rare, a penal law

might be deemed unnecessary. If the duty enjoined by the law were of

difficult performance, omission, though it could not be justified, might

be pitied. But in the present case, neither equity nor compassion

operate against it. A useful, a necessary law is broken, not only

without a reasonable motive, but with all the inducements to obedience

that can be derived from safety and facility.

'I therefore return to my original position, that a law, to have its

effect, must be permanent and stable. It may be said, in the language of

the schools, _Lex non recipit majus et minus_,--we may have a law, or we

may have no law, but we cannot have half a law. We must either have a

rule of action, or be permitted to act by discretion and by chance.

Deviations from the law must be uniformly punished, or no man can be

certain when he shall be safe.

'That from the rigour of the original institution this Court has

sometimes departed, cannot be denied. But, as it is evident that such

deviations, as they make law uncertain, make life unsafe, I hope, that

of departing from it there will now be an end; that the wisdom of our

ancestors will be treated with due reverence; and that consistent and

steady decisions will furnish the people with a rule of action, and

leave fraud and fraudulent intromission no future hope of impunity or

escape.'

With such comprehension of mind, and such clearness of penetration, did

he thus treat a subject altogether new to him, without any other

preparation than my having stated to him the arguments which had been

used on each side of the question. His intellectual powers appeared with

peculiar lustre, when tried against those of a writer of so much fame as

Lord Kames, and that too in his Lordship's own department[577].

This masterly argument, after being prefaced and concluded with some

sentences of my own, and garnished with the usual formularies, was

actually printed and laid before the Lords of Session[578], but without

success. My respected friend Lord Hailes, however, one of that

honourable body, had critical sagacity enough to discover a more than

ordinary hand in the _Petition_. I told him Dr. Johnson had favoured me

with his pen. His Lordship, with wonderful _acumen_, pointed out exactly

where his composition began, and where it ended[579]. But that I may do

impartial justice, and conform to the great rule of Courts, _Suum cuique

tribuito_, I must add, that their Lordships in general, though they were

pleased to call this 'a well-drawn paper,' preferred the former very

inferiour petition which I had written; thus confirming the truth of an

observation made to me by one of their number, in a merry mood: 'My dear

Sir, give yourself no trouble in the composition of the papers you

present to us; for, indeed, it is casting pearls before swine.'

I renewed my solicitations that Dr. Johnson would this year accomplish

his long-intended visit to Scotland.

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'The regret has not been little with which I have missed a journey so

pregnant with pleasing expectations, as that in which I could promise

myself not only the gratification of curiosity, both rational and

fanciful, but the delight of seeing those whom I love and esteem. But

such has been the course of things, that I could not come; and such has

been, I am afraid, the state of my body, that it would not well have

seconded my inclination. My body, I think, grows better, and I refer my

hopes to another year; for I am very sincere in my design to pay the

visit, and take the ramble. In the mean time, do not omit any

opportunity of keeping up a favourable opinion of me in the minds of any

of my friends. Beattie's book[580] is, I believe, every day more liked; at

least, I like it more, as I look more upon it.

'I am glad if you got credit by your cause, and am yet of opinion, that

our cause was good, and that the determination ought to have been in

your favour. Poor Hastie[581], I think, had but his deserts.

'You promised to get me a little _Pindar_, you may add to it a little

_Anacreon_.

'The leisure which I cannot enjoy, it will be a pleasure to hear that

you employ upon the antiquities of the feudal establishment. The whole

system of ancient tenures is gradually passing away; and I wish to have

the knowledge of it preserved adequate and complete. For such an

institution makes a very important part of the history of mankind. Do

not forget a design so worthy of a scholar who studies the laws of his

country, and of a gentleman who may naturally be curious to know the

condition of his own ancestors.

'I am, dear Sir,

'Yours with great affection,

'SAM JOHNSON.'

'August 31, 1772[582].'

'TO DR. JOHNSON.

'MY DEAR SIR,

'Edinburgh, Dec. 25, 1772.

* * * * *

'I was much disappointed that you did not come to Scotland last autumn.

However, I must own that your letter prevents me from complaining; not

only because I am sensible that the state of your health was but too

good an excuse, but because you write in a strain which shews that you

have agreeable views of the scheme which we have so long proposed.

* * * * *

'I communicated to Beattie what you said of his book in your last letter

to me. He writes to me thus:--"You judge very rightly in supposing that

Dr. Johnson's favourable opinion of any book must give me great delight.

Indeed it is impossible for me to say how much I am gratified by it; for

there is not a man upon earth whose good opinion I would be more

ambitious to cultivate. His talents and his virtues I reverence more

than any words can express. The extraordinary civilities[583] (the

paternal attentions I should rather say,) and the many instructions I

have had the honour to receive from him, will to me be a perpetual

source of pleasure in the recollection,

'"_Dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus has reget artus_[584].

'"I had still some thoughts, while the summer lasted, of being obliged

to go to London on some little business; otherwise I should certainly

have troubled him with a letter several months ago, and given some vent

to my gratitude and admiration. This I intend to do, as soon as I am

left a little at leisure. Mean time, if you have occasion to write to

him, I beg you will offer him my most respectful compliments, and assure

him of the sincerity of my attachment and the warmth of my gratitude."

* * * * *

'I am, &c.

'JAMES BOSWELL.'

1773: AETAT. 64.--In 1773 his only publication was an edition of his

folio _Dictionary_, with additions and corrections[585]; nor did he, so

far as is known, furnish any productions of his fertile pen to any of

his numerous friends or dependants, except the Preface[586] to his old

amanuensis Macbean's _Dictionary of Ancient Geography_.[587] His

_Shakspeare_, indeed, which had been received with high approbation by

the publick, and gone through several editions, was this year

re-published by George Steevens, Esq., a gentleman not only deeply

skilled in ancient learning, and of very extensive reading in English

literature, especially the early writers, but at the same time of acute

discernment and elegant taste.[588] It is almost unnecessary to say, that

by his great and valuable additions to Dr. Johnson's work, he justly

obtained considerable reputation:

'_Divisum imperium cum Jove Caesar habet_.'[589]

'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'I have read your kind letter much more than the elegant _Pindar_ which

it accompanied. I am always glad to find myself not forgotten; and to be

forgotten by you would give me great uneasiness. My northern friends

have never been unkind to me: I have from you, dear Sir, testimonies of

affection, which I have not often been able to excite; and Dr. Beattie

rates the testimony which I was desirous of paying to his merit, much

higher than I should have thought it reasonable to expect.

'I have heard of your masquerade[590]. What says your synod to such

innovations? I am not studiously scrupulous, nor do I think a masquerade

either evil in itself, or very likely to be the occasion of evil; yet as

the world thinks it a very licentious relaxation of manners, I would not

have been one of the _first_ masquers in a country where no masquerade

had ever been before[591].

'A new edition of my great _Dictionary_ is printed, from a copy which I

was persuaded to revise; but having made no preparation, I was able to

do very little. Some superfluities I have expunged, and some faults I

have corrected, and here and there have scattered a remark; but the main

fabrick of the work remains as it was. I had looked very little into it

since I wrote it, and, I think, I found it full as often better, as

worse, than I expected.

'Baretti and Davies have had a furious quarrel[592]; a quarrel, I think,

irreconcileable. Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy, which is expected in

the spring. No name is yet given it[593]. The chief diversion arises from

a stratagem by which a lover is made to mistake his future

father-in-law's house for an inn. This, you see, borders upon farce. The

dialogue is quick and gay, and the incidents are so prepared as not to

seem improbable.

'I am sorry that you lost your cause of Intromission, because I yet

think the arguments on your side unanswerable. But you seem, I think, to

say that you gained reputation even by your defeat; and reputation you

will daily gain, if you keep Lord Auchinleck's precept in your mind, and

endeavour to consolidate in your mind a firm and regular system of law,

instead of picking up occasional fragments.

'My health seems in general to improve; but I have been troubled for

many weeks with a vexatious catarrh, which is sometimes sufficiently

distressful. I have not found any great effects from bleeding and

physick; and am afraid, that I must expect help from brighter days and

softer air.

'Write to me now and then; and whenever any good befalls you, make haste

to let me know it, for no one will rejoice at it more than, dear Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'London, Feb. 24, 1773.'

'You continue to stand very high in the favour of Mrs. Thrale.'

While a former edition of my work was passing through the press, I was

unexpectedly favoured with a packet from Philadelphia, from Mr. James

Abercrombie, a gentleman of that country, who is pleased to honour me

with very high praise of my _Life of Dr. Johnson_. To have the fame of

my illustrious friend, and his faithful biographer, echoed from the New

World is extremely flattering; and my grateful acknowledgements shall be

wafted across the Atlantick. Mr. Abercrombie has politely conferred on

me a considerable additional obligation, by transmitting to me copies of

two letters from Dr. Johnson to American gentlemen. 'Gladly, Sir, (says

he,) would I have sent you the originals; but being the only relicks of

the kind in America, they are considered by the possessors of such

inestimable value, that no possible consideration would induce them to

part with them. In some future publication of yours relative to that

great and good man, they may perhaps be thought worthy of insertion.'

'To MR. B---D[594].

'SIR,

'That in the hurry of a sudden departure you should yet find leisure to

consult my convenience, is a degree of kindness, and an instance of

regard, not only beyond my claims, but above my expectation. You are not

mistaken in supposing that I set a high value on my American friends,

and that you should confer a very valuable favour upon me by giving me

an opportunity of keeping myself in their memory.

'I have taken the liberty of troubling you with a packet, to which I

wish a safe and speedy conveyance, because I wish a safe and speedy

voyage to him that conveys it. I am, Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'London, Johnson's-court,

Fleet street, March 4, 1773.'

'To THE REVEREND MR. WHITE[595].

'DEAR SIR,

'Your kindness for your friends accompanies you across the Atlantick. It

was long since observed by Horace[596], that no ship could leave care

behind; you have been attended in your voyage by other powers,--by

benevolence and constancy; and I hope care did not often shew her face

in their company.

'I received the copy of _Rasselas_. The impression is not magnificent,

but it flatters an authour, because the printer seems to have expected

that it would be scattered among the people. The little book has been

well received, and is translated into Italian[597], French[598], German,

and Dutch[599]. It has now one honour more by an American edition.

'I know not that much has happened since your departure that can engage

your curiosity. Of all publick transactions the whole world is now

informed by the newspapers. Opposition seems to despond; and the

dissenters, though they have taken advantage of unsettled times, and a

government much enfeebled, seem not likely to gain any immunities[600].

'Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy in rehearsal at Covent-Garden, to which

the manager predicts ill success[601]. I hope he will be mistaken. I think

it deserves a very kind reception.

'I shall soon publish a new edition of my large _Dictionary_; I have

been persuaded to revise it, and have mended some faults, but added

little to its usefulness.

'No book has been published since your departure, of which much notice

is taken. Faction only fills the town with pamphlets, and greater

subjects are forgotten in the noise of discord.

'Thus have I written, only to tell you how little I have to tell. Of

myself I can only add, that having been afflicted many weeks with a very

troublesome cough, I am now recovered.

'I take the liberty which you give me of troubling you with a letter, of

which you will please to fill up the direction. I am, Sir,

'Your most humble servant,

'SAM JOHNSON.'

'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,

London, March 4, 1773.'

On Saturday, April 3, the day after my arrival in London this year, I

went to his house late in the evening, and sat with Mrs. Williams till

he came home. I found in the _London Chronicle_, Dr. Goldsmith's

apology[602] to the publick for beating Evans, a bookseller, on account of

a paragraph in a newspaper published by him, which Goldsmith thought

impertinent to him and to a lady of his acquaintance[603]. The apology was

written so much in Dr. Johnson's manner, that both Mrs. Williams and I

supposed it to be his; but when he came home, he soon undeceived us.

When he said to Mrs. Williams, 'Well, Dr. Goldsmith's _manifesto_ has

got into your paper[604];' I asked him if Dr. Goldsmith had written it,

with an air that made him see I suspected it was his, though subscribed

by Goldsmith. JOHNSON. 'Sir, Dr. Goldsmith would no more have asked me

to write such a thing as that for him, than he would have asked me to

feed him with a spoon, or to do anything else that denoted his

imbecility. I as much believe that he wrote it, as if I had seen him do

it. Sir, had he shewn it to any one friend, he would not have been

allowed to publish it. He has, indeed, done it very well; but it is a

foolish thing well done. I suppose he has been so much elated with the

success of his new comedy, that he has thought every thing that

concerned him must be of importance to the publick.' BOSWELL. 'I fancy,

Sir, this is the first time that he has been engaged in such an

adventure.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I believe it is the first time he has

_beat_; he may have _been beaten_ before[605]. This, Sir, is a new plume

to him.'

I mentioned Sir John Dalrymple's _Memoirs of Great-Britain and Ireland_,

and his discoveries to the prejudice of Lord Russel and Algernon Sydney.

JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, every body who had just notions of government

thought them rascals before. It is well that all mankind now see them to

be rascals.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, may not those discoveries be true

without their being rascals?' JOHNSON. 'Consider, Sir; would any of them

have been willing to have had it known that they intrigued with France?

Depend upon it, Sir, he who does what he is afraid should be known, has

something rotten about him. This Dalrymple seems to be an honest

fellow[606]; for he tells equally what makes against both sides. But

nothing can be poorer than his mode of writing, it is the mere bouncing

of a school-boy. Great He! but greater She! and such stuff[607].'

I could not agree with him in this criticism; for though Sir John

Dalrymple's style is not regularly formed in any respect, and one cannot

help smiling sometimes at his affected _grandiloquence_, there is in his

writing a pointed vivacity, and much of a gentlemanly spirit.

At Mr. Thrale's, in the evening, he repeated his usual paradoxical

declamation against action in publick speaking[608]. 'Action can have no

effect upon reasonable minds. It may augment noise, but it never can

enforce argument. If you speak to a dog, you use action; you hold up

your hand thus, because he is a brute; and in proportion as men are

removed from brutes, action will have the less influence upon them.'

MRS. THRALE. 'What then, Sir, becomes of Demosthenes's saying? "Action,

action, action!"' JOHNSON. 'Demosthenes, Madam, spoke to an assembly of

brutes; to a barbarous people[609].'

I thought it extraordinary, that he should deny the power of rhetorical

action upon human nature, when it is proved by innumerable facts in all

stages of society. Reasonable beings are not solely reasonable. They

have fancies which may be pleased, passions which may be roused.

Lord Chesterfield being mentioned, Johnson remarked, that almost all of

that celebrated nobleman's witty sayings were puns[610]. He, however,

allowed the merit of good wit to his Lordship's saying of Lord

Tyrawley[611] and himself, when both very old and infirm: 'Tyrawley and I

have been dead these two years; but we don't choose to have it known.'