He talked with approbation of an intended edition of _The_ Spectator,

with notes; two volumes of which had been prepared by a gentleman

eminent in the literary world, and the materials which he had collected

for the remainder had been transferred to another hand[612]. He observed,

that all works which describe manners, require notes in sixty or seventy

years, or less; and told us, he had communicated all he knew that could

throw light upon _The Spectator_. He said, 'Addison had made his Sir

Andrew Freeport a true Whig, arguing against giving charity to beggars,

and throwing out other such ungracious sentiments; but that he had

thought better, and made amends by making him found an hospital for

decayed farmers[613].' He called for the volume of _The Spectator_, in

which that account is contained, and read it aloud to us. He read so

well, that every thing acquired additional weight and grace from his

utterance[614].

The conversation having turned on modern imitations of ancient ballads,

and some one having praised their simplicity, he treated them with that

ridicule which he always displayed when that subject was mentioned[615].

He disapproved of introducing scripture phrases into secular discourse.

This seemed to me a question of some difficulty. A scripture expression

may be used, like a highly classical phrase, to produce an instantaneous

strong impression; and it may be done without being at all improper. Yet

I own there is danger, that applying the language of our sacred book to

ordinary subjects may tend to lessen our reverence for it. If therefore

it be introduced at all, it should be with very great caution.

On Thursday, April 8, I sat a good part of the evening with him, but he

was very silent. He said, 'Burnet's _History of his own times_ is very

entertaining[616]. The style, indeed, is mere chitchat[617]. I do not

believe that Burnet intentionally lyed; but he was so much prejudiced,

that he took no pains to find out the truth. He was like a man who

resolves to regulate his time by a certain watch; but will not inquire

whether the watch is right or not[618].'

Though he was not disposed to talk, he was unwilling that I should leave

him; and when I looked at my watch, and told him it was twelve o'clock,

he cried, 'What's that to you and me?' and ordered Frank to tell Mrs.

Williams that we were coming to drink tea with her, which we did. It was

settled that we should go to church together next day.

On the 9th of April, being Good Friday, I breakfasted with him on tea

and cross-buns[619]; _Doctor_ Levet, as Frank called him, making the tea.

He carried me with him to the church of St. Clement Danes, where he had

his seat; and his behaviour was, as I had imaged to myself, solemnly

devout[620]. I never shall forget the tremulous earnestness with which he

pronounced the awful petition in the Litany: 'In the hour of death, and

at[621] the day of judgement, good LORD deliver us.'

We went to church both in the morning and evening. In the interval

between the two services we did not dine; but he read in the Greek New

Testament, and I turned over several of his books.

In Archbishop Laud's Diary, I found the following passage, which I read

to Dr. Johnson:--

'1623. February 1, Sunday. I stood by the most illustrious Prince

Charles[622], at dinner. He was then very merry, and talked occasionally

of many things with his attendants. Among other things, he said, that if

he were necessitated to take any particular profession of life, he could

not be a lawyer, adding his reasons: "I cannot (saith he,) defend a bad,

nor yield in a good cause."'

JOHNSON. 'Sir, this is false reasoning; because every cause has a bad

side[623]; and a lawyer is not overcome, though the cause which he has

endeavoured to support be determined against him.'

I told him that Goldsmith had said to me a few days before, 'As I take

my shoes from the shoemaker, and my coat from the taylor, so I take my

religion from the priest.' I regretted this loose way of talking.

JOHNSON. 'Sir, he knows nothing; he has made up his mind about

nothing[624].'

To my great surprize he asked me to dine with him on Easter-day. I never

supposed that he had a dinner at his house; for I had not then heard of

any one of his friends having been entertained at his table. He told me,

'I generally have a meat pye on Sunday: it is baked at a publick oven,

which is very properly allowed, because one man can attend it; and thus

the advantage is obtained of not keeping servants from church to dress

dinners[625].'

April 11, being Easter-Sunday, after having attended Divine Service at

St. Paul's, I repaired to Dr. Johnson's. I had gratified my curiosity

much in dining with JEAN JAQUES ROUSSEAU[626], while he lived in the wilds

of Neufchatel: I had as great a curiosity to dine with DR. SAMUEL

JOHNSON, in the dusky recess of a court in Fleet-street. I supposed we

should scarcely have knives and forks, and only some strange, uncouth,

ill-drest dish: but I found every thing in very good order. We had no

other company but Mrs. Williams and a young woman whom I did not know.

As a dinner here was considered as a singular phenomenon, and as I was

frequently interrogated on the subject, my readers may perhaps be

desirous to know our bill of fare. Foote, I remember, in allusion to

Francis, the _negro_, was willing to suppose that our repast was _black

broth_. But the fact was, that we had a very good soup, a boiled leg of

lamb and spinach, a veal pye, and a rice pudding[627].

Of Dr. John Campbell, the authour, he said, 'He is a very inquisitive

and a very able man, and a man of good religious principles, though I am

afraid he has been deficient in practice. Campbell is radically right;

and we may hope, that in time there will be good practice[628].'

He owned that he thought Hawkesworth was one of his imitators[629], but he

did not think Goldsmith was. Goldsmith, he said, had great merit.

BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, he is much indebted to you for his getting so high

in the publick estimation.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, he has perhaps got

_sooner_ to it by his intimacy with me.'

Goldsmith, though his vanity often excited him to occasional

competition, had a very high regard for Johnson, which he at this time

expressed in the strongest manner in the Dedication of his comedy,

entitled, _She Stoops to Conquer_.[630]

Johnson observed, that there were very few books printed in Scotland

before the Union. He had seen a complete collection of them in the

possession of the Hon. Archibald Campbell, a non-juring Bishop[631]. I

wish this collection had been kept entire. Many of them are in the

library of the Faculty of Advocates at Edinburgh. I told Dr. Johnson

that I had some intention to write the life of the learned and worthy

Thomas Ruddiman[632]. He said, 'I should take pleasure in helping you to

do honour to him. But his farewell letter to the Faculty of Advocates,

when he resigned the office of their Librarian, should have been in

Latin.'

I put a question to him upon a fact in common life, which he could not

answer, nor have I found any one else who could. What is the reason that

women servants, though obliged to be at the expense of purchasing their

own clothes, have much lower wages than men servants, to whom a great

proportion of that article is furnished, and when in fact our female

house servants work much harder than the male[633]?

He told me that he had twelve or fourteen times attempted to keep a

journal of his life, but never could persevere[634]. He advised me to do

it. 'The great thing to be recorded, (said he), is the state of your own

mind[635]; and you should write down every thing that you remember, for

you cannot judge at first what is good or bad; and write immediately

while the impression is fresh, for it will not be the same a week

afterwards[636].'

I again solicited him to communicate to me the particulars of his early

life. He said, 'You shall have them all for twopence. I hope you shall

know a great deal more of me before you write my Life.' He mentioned to

me this day many circumstances, which I wrote down when I went home, and

have interwoven in the former part of this narrative.

On Tuesday, April 13, he and Dr. Goldsmith and I dined at General

Oglethorpe's. Goldsmith expatiated on the common topick, that the race

of our people was degenerated, and that this was owing to luxury.

JOHNSON. 'Sir, in the first place, I doubt the fact[637]. I believe there

are as many tall men in England now, as ever there were. But, secondly,

supposing the stature of our people to be diminished, that is not owing

to luxury; for, Sir, consider to how very small a proportion of our

people luxury can reach. Our soldiery, surely, are not luxurious, who

live on six-pence a day[638]; and the same remark will apply to almost all

the other classes. Luxury, so far as it reaches the poor, will do good

to the race of people; it will strengthen and multiply them. Sir, no

nation was ever hurt by luxury; for, as I said before, it can reach but

to a very few. I admit that the great increase of commerce and

manufactures hurts the military spirit of a people; because it produces

a competition for something else than martial honours,--a competition

for riches. It also hurts the bodies of the people; for you will

observe, there is no man who works at any particular trade, but you may

know him from his appearance to do so. One part or other of his body

being more used than the rest, he is in some degree deformed: but, Sir,

that is not luxury. A tailor sits cross-legged; but that is not luxury.'

GOLDSMITH. 'Come, you're just going to the same place by another road.'

JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I say that is not _luxury_. Let us take a walk from

Charing-cross to White-chapel, through, I suppose, the greatest series

of shops in the world; what is there in any of these shops (if you

except gin-shops,) that can do any human being any harm?' GOLDSMITH.

'Well, Sir, I'll accept your challenge. The very next shop to

Northumberland-house is a pickle-shop.' JOHNSON. 'Well, Sir: do we not

know that a maid can in one afternoon make pickles sufficient to serve a

whole family for a year? nay, that five pickle-shops can serve all the

kingdom? Besides, Sir, there is no harm done to any body by the making

of pickles, or the eating of pickles.'

We drank tea with the ladies; and Goldsmith sung Tony Lumpkin's song in

his comedy, _She Stoops to Conquer_, and a very pretty one, to an Irish

tune[639], which he had designed for Miss Hardcastle; but as Mrs.

Bulkeley, who played the part, could not sing, it was left out. He

afterwards wrote it down for me, by which means it was preserved, and

now appears amongst his poems[640]. Dr. Johnson, in his way home, stopped

at my lodgings in Piccadilly, and sat with me, drinking tea a second

time, till a late hour.

I told him that Mrs. Macaulay said, she wondered how he could reconcile

his political principles with his moral; his notions of inequality and

subordination with wishing well to the happiness of all mankind, who

might live so agreeably, had they all their portions of land, and none

to domineer over another. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I reconcile my principles

very well, because mankind are happier in a state of inequality and

subordination[641]. Were they to be in this pretty state of equality, they

would soon degenerate into brutes;--they would become Monboddo's

nation[642];--their tails would grow. Sir, all would be losers were all to

work for all:--they would have no intellectual improvement. All

intellectual improvement arises from leisure; all leisure arises from

one working for another.'

Talking of the family of Stuart[643], he said, 'It should seem that the

family at present on the throne has now established as good a right as

the former family, by the long consent of the people; and that to

disturb this right might be considered as culpable. At the same time I

own, that it is a very difficult question, when considered with respect

to the house of Stuart. To oblige people to take oaths as to the

disputed right, is wrong. I know not whether I could take them: but I do

not blame those who do.' So conscientious and so delicate was he upon

this subject, which has occasioned so much clamour against him.

Talking of law cases, he said, 'The English reports, in general, are

very poor: only the half of what has been said is taken down; and of

that half, much is mistaken. Whereas, in Scotland, the arguments on each

side are deliberately put in writing, to be considered by the Court. I

think a collection of your cases upon subjects of importance, with the

opinions of the Judges upon them, would be valuable.'

On Thursday, April 15, I dined with him and Dr. Goldsmith at General

Paoli's. We found here Signor Martinelli, of Florence, authour of a

_History of England_, in Italian, printed at London.

I spoke of Allan Ramsay's _Gentle Shepherd_, in the Scottish dialect, as

the best pastoral that had ever been written; not only abounding with

beautiful rural imagery, and just and pleasing sentiments, but being a

real picture of manners; and I offered to teach Dr. Johnson to

understand it. 'No, Sir (said he,) I won't learn it. You shall retain

your superiority by my not knowing it.'

This brought on a question whether one man is lessened by another's

acquiring an equal degree of knowledge with him[644]. Johnson asserted the

affirmative. I maintained that the position might be true in those kinds

of knowledge which produce wisdom, power, and force, so as to enable one

man to have the government of others; but that a man is not in any

degree lessened by others knowing as well as he what ends in mere

pleasure:--eating fine fruits, drinking delicious wines, reading

exquisite poetry.

The General observed, that Martinelli was a Whig. JOHNSON. 'I am sorry

for it. It shows the spirit of the times: he is obliged to temporise.'

BOSWELL. 'I rather think, Sir, that Toryism prevails in this reign.'

JOHNSON. 'I know not why you should think so, Sir. You see your friend

Lord Lyttelton[645], a nobleman, is obliged in his _History_ to write the

most vulgar Whiggism.'

An animated debate took place whether Martinelli should continue his

_History of England_ to the present day. GOLDSMITH. 'To be sure he

should.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; he would give great offence. He would have

to tell of almost all the living great what they do not wish told.'

GOLDSMITH. 'It may, perhaps, be necessary for a native to be more

cautious; but a foreigner who comes among us without prejudice, may be

considered as holding the place of a Judge, and may speak his mind

freely.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, a foreigner, when he sends a work from the

press, ought to be on his guard against catching the errour and mistaken

enthusiasm of the people among whom he happens to be.' GOLDSMITH. 'Sir,

he wants only to sell his history, and to tell truth; one an honest, the

other a laudable motive.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, they are both laudable motives.

It is laudable in a man to wish to live by his labours; but he should

write so as he may _live_ by them, not so as he may be knocked on the

head. I would advise him to be at Calais before he publishes his history

of the present age. A foreigner who attaches himself to a political

party in this country, is in the worst state that can be imagined: he is

looked upon as a mere intermeddler. A native may do it from interest.'

BOSWELL. 'Or principle.' GOLDSMITH. 'There are people who tell a hundred

political lies every day, and are not hurt by it. Surely, then, one may

tell truth with safety.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, in the first place, he who

tells a hundred lies has disarmed the force of his lies[646]. But besides;

a man had rather have a hundred lies told of him, than one truth which

he does not wish should be told.' GOLDSMITH. 'For my part, I'd tell

truth, and shame the devil.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but the devil will be

angry. I wish to shame the devil as much you do, but I should choose to

be out of the reach of his claws.' GOLDSMITH. 'His claws can do you no

harm, when you have the shield of truth.'

It having been observed that there was little hospitality in

London;--JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, any man who has a name, or who has the

power of pleasing, will be very generally invited in London. The man,

Sterne, I have been told, has had engagements for three months[647].'

GOLDSMITH. 'And a very dull fellow.' JOHNSON. 'Why, no, Sir[648].'

Martinelli told us, that for several years he lived much with Charles

Townshend, and that he ventured to tell him he was a bad joker. JOHNSON.

'Why, Sir, thus much I can say upon the subject. One day he and a few

more agreed to go and dine in the country, and each of them was to bring

a friend in his carriage with him. Charles Townshend asked Fitzherbert

to go with him, but told him, 'You must find somebody to bring you back:

I can only carry you there.' Fitzherbert did not much like this

arrangement. He however consented, observing sarcastically, 'It will do

very well; for then the same jokes will serve you in returning as in

going[649].'

An eminent publick character[650] being mentioned;--JOHNSON. 'I remember

being present when he shewed himself to be so corrupted, or at least

something so different from what I think right, as to maintain, that a

member of parliament should go along with his party right or wrong. Now,

Sir, this is so remote from native virtue, from scholastick virtue, that

a good man must have undergone a great change before he can reconcile

himself to such a doctrine. It is maintaining that you may lie to the

publick; for you lie when you call that right which you think wrong, or

the reverse[651]. A friend of ours, who is too much an echo of that

gentleman, observed, that a man who does not stick uniformly to a party,

is only waiting to be bought. Why then, said I, he is only waiting to be

what that gentleman is already.'

We talked of the King's coming to see Goldsmith's new play.--'I wish he

would[652],' said Goldsmith; adding, however, with an affected

indifference, 'Not that it would do me the least good.' JOHNSON. 'Well

then, Sir, let us say it would do _him_ good, (laughing). No, Sir, this

affectation will not pass;--it is mighty idle. In such a state as ours,

who would not wish to please the Chief Magistrate?' GOLDSMITH. 'I _do_

wish to please him. I remember a line in Dryden,--

"And every poet is the monarch's friend."

It ought to be reversed.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, there are finer lines in Dryden

on this subject:--

"For colleges on bounteous Kings depend,

And never rebel was to arts a friend[653]."'

General Paoli observed, that 'successful rebels might[654].' MARTINELLI.

'Happy rebellions.' GOLDSMITH. 'We have no such phrase.' GENERAL PAOLI.

'But have you not the _thing_?' GOLDSMITH. 'Yes; all our _happy_

revolutions. They have hurt our constitution, and will hurt it, till we

mend it by another HAPPY REVOLUTION.' I never before discovered that my

friend Goldsmith had so much of the old prejudice in him.

General Paoli, talking of Goldsmith's new play, said, 'Il a fait un

compliment trA"s gracieux A une certaine grande dame;' meaning a Duchess

of the first rank[655].

I expressed a doubt whether Goldsmith intended it, in order that I might

hear the truth from himself. It, perhaps, was not quite fair to

endeavour to bring him to a confession, as he might not wish to avow

positively his taking part against the Court. He smiled and hesitated.

The General at once relieved him, by this beautiful image: '_Monsieur

Goldsmith est comme la mer, qui jette des perles et beau-coup d'autres

belle choses, sans s'en appercevoir_.' GOLDSMITH. '_TrA"s bien dit et

trA"s elegamment_.'

A person was mentioned, who it was said could take down in short hand

the speeches in parliament with perfect exactness. JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is

impossible. I remember one, Angel, who came to me to write for him a

Preface or Dedication to a book upon short hand[656], and he professed to

write as fast as a man could speak. In order to try him, I took down a

book, and read while he wrote; and I favoured him, for I read more

deliberately than usual. I had proceeded but a very little way, when he

begged I would desist, for he could not follow me[657].' Hearing now for

the first time of this Preface or Dedication, I said, 'What an expense,

Sir, do you put us to in buying books, to which you have written

Prefaces or Dedications.' JOHNSON. 'Why I have dedicated to the Royal

family all round; that is to say, to the last generation of the Royal

family[658].' GOLDSMITH. 'And perhaps, Sir, not one sentence of wit in a

whole Dedication.' JOHNSON. 'Perhaps not, Sir.' BOSWELL. 'What then is

the reason for applying to a particular person to do that which any one

may do as well?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, one man has greater readiness at

doing it than another.'

I spoke of Mr. Harris[659], of Salisbury, as being a very learned man, and

in particular an eminent Grecian. JOHNSON. 'I am not sure of that. His

friends give him out as such, but I know not who of his friends are able

to judge of it.' GOLDSMITH. 'He is what is much better: he is a worthy

humane man.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, that is not to the purpose of our

argument[660]: that will as much prove that he can play upon the fiddle as

well as Giardini, as that he is an eminent Grecian.' GOLDSMITH. 'The

greatest musical performers have but small emoluments. Giardini, I am

told, does not get above seven hundred a year.' JOHNSON. 'That is indeed

but little for a man to get, who does best that which so many endeavour

to do. There is nothing, I think, in which the power of art is shown so

much as in playing on the fiddle. In all other things we can do

something at first. Any man will forge a bar of iron, if you give him a

hammer; not so well as a smith, but tolerably. A man will saw a piece of

wood, and make a box, though a clumsy one; but give him a fiddle and a

fiddle-stick, and he can do nothing.'

On Monday, April 19, he called on me with Mrs. Williams, in Mr.

Strahan's coach, and carried me out to dine with Mr. Elphinston[661], at

his academy at Kensington. A printer having acquired a fortune

sufficient to keep his coach, was a good topick for the credit of

literature[662]. Mrs. Williams said, that another printer, Mr. Hamilton,

had not waited so long as Mr. Strahan, but had kept his coach several

years sooner[663]. JOHNSON. 'He was in the right. Life is short. The

sooner that a man begins to enjoy his wealth the better.'

Mr. Elphinston talked of a new book that was much admired, and asked Dr.

Johnson if he had read it. JOHNSON. 'I have looked into it.' 'What (said

Elphinston,) have you not read it through?' Johnson, offended at being

thus pressed, and so obliged to own his cursory mode of reading,

answered tartly, 'No, Sir, do _you_ read books _through_[664]?'

He this day again defended duelling[665], and put his argument upon what I

have ever thought the most solid basis; that if publick war be allowed

to be consistent with morality, private war must be equally so. Indeed

we may observe what strained arguments are used, to reconcile war with

the Christian religion. But, in my opinion, it is exceedingly clear that

duelling, having better reasons for its barbarous violence, is more

justifiable than war, in which thousands go forth without any cause of

personal quarrel, and massacre each other.

On Wednesday, April 21, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's. A gentleman[666]

attacked Garrick for being vain. JOHNSON. 'No wonder, Sir, that he is

vain; a man who is perpetually flattered in every mode that can be

conceived. So many bellows have blown the fire, that one wonders he is

not by this time become a cinder.' BOSWELL. 'And such bellows too. Lord

Mansfield with his cheeks like to burst: Lord Chatham like an Aćolus. I

have read such notes from them to him, as were enough to turn his

head[667].' JOHNSON. 'True. When he whom every body else flatters,

flatters me, I then am truely happy.' MRS. THRALE. 'The sentiment is in

Congreve, I think.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Madam, in _The Way of the World_:

"If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see

That heart which others bleed for, bleed for me[668]."

'No, Sir, I should not be surprised though Garrick chained the ocean,

and lashed the winds.' BOSWELL. 'Should it not be, Sir, lashed the ocean

and chained the winds?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, recollect the original:

"In Corum atque Eurum solitus saevire flagellis Barbarus, Aćolio nunquam

hoc in carcere passos, Ipsum compedibus qui viscxerat Ennosigoeum[669]."

'This does very well, when both the winds and the sea are personified,

and mentioned by their mythological names, as in Juvenal; but when they

are mentioned in plain language, the application of the epithets

suggested by me, is the most obvious; and accordingly my friend himself,

in his imitation of the passage which describes Xerxes, has

"The waves he lashes, and enchains the wind."'

The modes of living in different countries, and the various views with

which men travel in quest of new scenes, having been talked of, a

learned gentleman[670] who holds a considerable office in the law,

expatiated on the happiness of a savage life[671]; and mentioned an

instance of an officer who had actually lived for some time in the wilds

of America, of whom, when in that state, he quoted this reflection with

an air of admiration, as if it had been deeply philosophical: 'Here am

I, free and unrestrained, amidst the rude magnificence of Nature, with

this Indian woman by my side, and this gun with which I can procure food

when I want it: what more can be desired for human happiness?' It did

not require much sagacity to foresee that such a sentiment would not be

permitted to pass without due animadversion. JOHNSON. 'Do not allow

yourself, Sir, to be imposed upon by such gross absurdity. It is sad

stuff; it is brutish. If a bull could speak, he might as well

exclaim,--Here am I with this cow and this grass; what being can enjoy

greater felicity?'

We talked of the melancholy end of a gentleman[672] who had destroyed

himself. JOHNSON. 'It was owing to imaginary difficulties in his

affairs, which, had he talked with any friend, would soon have

vanished.' BOSWELL. 'Do you think, Sir, that all who commit suicide are

mad?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, they are often not universally disordered in their

intellects, but one passion presses so upon them, that they yield to it,

and commit suicide, as a passionate man will stab another.' He added, 'I

have often thought, that after a man has taken the resolution to kill

himself, it is not courage in him to do any thing, however desperate,

because he has nothing to fear.' GOLDSMITH. 'I don't see that.' JOHNSON.

'Nay, but my dear Sir, why should not you see what every one else sees?'

GOLDSMITH. 'It is for fear of something that he has resolved to kill

himself; and will not that timid disposition restrain him?' JOHNSON. 'It

does not signify that the fear of something made him resolve; it is upon

the state of his mind, after the resolution is taken, that I argue.

Suppose a man, either from fear, or pride, or conscience, or whatever

motive, has resolved to kill himself; when once the resolution is taken,

he has nothing to fear. He may then go and take the King of Prussia by

the nose, at the head of his army. He cannot fear the rack, who is

resolved to kill himself. When Eustace Budgel[673] was walking down to the

Thames, determined to drown himself, he might, if he pleased, without

any apprehension of danger, have turned aside, and first set fire to St.

James's palace.'

On Tuesday, April 27, Mr. Beauclerk and I called on him in the morning.

As we walked up Johnson's-court, I said, 'I have a veneration for this

court;' and was glad to find that Beauclerk had the same reverential

enthusiasm[674]. We found him alone. We talked of Mr. Andrew Stuart's

elegant and plausible Letters to Lord Mansfield[675]: a copy of which had

been sent by the authour to Dr. Johnson. JOHNSON. 'They have not

answered the end. They have not been talked of; I have never heard of

them. This is owing to their not being sold. People seldom read a book

which is given to them; and few are given. The way to spread a work is

to sell it at a low price. No man will send to buy a thing that costs

even sixpence, without an intention to read it.' BOSWELL. 'May it not be

doubted, Sir, whether it be proper to publish letters, arraigning the

ultimate decision of an important cause by the supreme judicature of the

nation?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, I do not think it was wrong to publish these

letters. If they are thought to do harm, why not answer them? But they

will do no harm; if Mr. Douglas be indeed the son of Lady Jane, he

cannot be hurt: if he be not her son, and yet has the great estate of

the family of Douglas, he may well submit to have a pamphlet against him

by Andrew Stuart. Sir, I think such a publication does good, as it does

good to show us the possibilities of human life. And Sir, you will not

say that the Douglas cause was a cause of easy decision, when it divided

your Court as much as it could do, to be determined at all. When your

Judges were seven and seven, the casting vote of the President must be

given on one side or other: no matter, for my argument, on which; one or

the other _must_ be taken: as when I am to move, there is no matter

which leg I move first. And then, Sir, it was otherwise determined here.

No, Sir, a more dubious determination of any question cannot be

imagined[676].'

He said, 'Goldsmith should not be for ever attempting to shine in

conversation: he has not temper for it, he is so much mortified when he

fails. Sir, a game of jokes is composed partly of skill, partly of

chance, a man may be beat at times by one who has not the tenth part of

his wit. Now Goldsmith's putting himself against another, is like a man

laying a hundred to one who cannot spare the hundred. It is not worth a

man's while. A man should not lay a hundred to one, unless he can easily

spare it, though he has a hundred chances for him: he can get but a

guinea, and he may lose a hundred. Goldsmith is in this state. When he

contends, if he gets the better, it is a very little addition to a man

of his literary reputation: if he does not get the better, he is

miserably vexed.'

Johnson's own superlative powers of wit set him above any risk of such

uneasiness. Garrick had remarked to me of him, a few days before,

'Rabelais and all other wits are nothing compared with him. You may be

diverted by them; but Johnson gives you a forcible hug, and shakes

laughter out of you, whether you will or no.'

Goldsmith, however, was often very fortunate in his witty contests, even

when he entered the lists with Johnson himself. Sir Joshua Reynolds was

in company with them one day, when Goldsmith said, that he thought he

could write a good fable, mentioned the simplicity which that kind of

composition requires, and observed, that in most fables the animals

introduced seldom talk in character. 'For instance, (said he,) the fable

of the little fishes, who saw birds fly over their heads, and envying

them, petitioned Jupiter to be changed into birds. The skill (continued

he,) consists in making them talk like little fishes.' While he indulged

himself in this fanciful reverie, he observed Johnson shaking his sides,

and laughing. Upon which he smartly proceeded, 'Why, Dr. Johnson, this

is not so easy as you seem to think; for if you were to make little

fishes talk, they would talk like WHALES.'

Johnson, though remarkable for his great variety of composition, never

exercised his talents in fable, except we allow his beautiful tale[677]

published in Mrs. Williams's _Miscellanies_[678] to be of that species. I

have, however, found among his manuscript collections the following

sketch of one:

'Glow-worm[679] lying in the garden saw a candle in a neighbouring

palace,--and complained of the littleness of his own light;--another

observed--wait a little;--soon dark,--have outlasted [Greek: poll]

[_many_] of these glaring lights which are only brighter as they haste

to nothing.'

On Thursday, April 29, I dined with him at General Oglethorpe's, where

were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr. Thrale. I

was very desirous to get Dr. Johnson absolutely fixed in his resolution

to go with me to the Hebrides this year; and I told him that I had

received a letter from Dr. Robertson the historian, upon the subject,

with which he was much pleased; and now talked in such a manner of his

long-intended tour, that I was satisfied he meant to fulfil his

engagement.

The custom of eating dogs at Otaheite being mentioned, Goldsmith

observed, that this was also a custom in China; that a dog-butcher is as

common there as any other butcher; and that when he walks abroad all the

dogs fall on him. JOHNSON. 'That is not owing to his killing dogs, Sir.

I remember a butcher at Lichfield, whom a dog that was in the house

where I lived, always attacked. It is the smell of carnage which

provokes this, let the animals he has killed be what they may.'

GOLDSMITH. 'Yes, there is a general abhorrence in animals at the signs

of massacre. If you put a tub full of blood into a stable, the horses

are like to go mad.' JOHNSON. 'I doubt that.' GOLDSMITH. 'Nay, Sir, it

is a fact well authenticated.' THRALE. 'You had better prove it before

you put it into your book on natural history. You may do it in my stable

if you will.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I would not have him prove it. If he

is content to take his information from others, he may get through his

book with little trouble, and without much endangering his reputation.

But if he makes experiments for so comprehensive a book as his, there

would be no end to them: his erroneous assertions would then fall upon

himself, and he might be blamed for not having made experiments as to

every particular.'

The character of Mallet having been introduced, and spoken of

slightingly by Goldsmith; JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, Mallet had talents enough

to keep his literary reputation alive as long as he himself lived[680];

and that, let me tell you, is a good deal.' GOLDSMITH. 'But I cannot

agree that it was so. His literary reputation was dead long before his

natural death. I consider an authour's literary reputation to be alive

only while his name will ensure a good price for his copy from the

booksellers. I will get you (to Johnson,) a hundred guineas for any

thing whatever that you shall write, if you put your name to it[681].'

Dr. Goldmith's new play, _She Stoops to Conquer_, being mentioned;

JOHNSON. 'I know of no comedy for many years that has so much

exhilarated an audience, that has answered so much the great end of

comedy--making an audience merry[682].'

Goldsmith having said, that Garrick's compliment to the Queen, which he

introduced into the play of _The Chances_[683], which he had altered and

revised this year, was mean and gross flattery;--JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, I

would not _write_, I would not give solemnly under my hand, a character

beyond what I thought really true; but a speech on the stage, let it

flatter ever so extravagantly, is formular[684]. It has always been

formular to flatter Kings and Queens; so much so, that even in our

church-service we have "our most religious King," used indiscriminately,

whoever is King. Nay, they even flatter themselves;--"we have been

graciously pleased to grant." No modern flattery, however, is so gross

as that of the Augustan age, where the Emperour was deified. "_Praesens

Divus habebitur Augustus_[685]." And as to meanness, (rising into warmth,)

how is it mean in a player,--a showman,--a fellow who exhibits himself

for a shilling, to flatter his Queen[686]? The attempt, indeed, was

dangerous; for if it had missed, what became of Garrick, and what became

of the Queen? As Sir William Temple says of a great General, it is

necessary not only that his designs be formed in a masterly manner, but

that they should be attended with success[687]. Sir, it is right, at a

time when the Royal Family is not generally liked[688], to let it be seen

that the people like at least one of them.' SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 'I do

not perceive why the profession of a player should be despised[689]; for

the great and ultimate end of all the employments of mankind is to

produce amusement. Garrick produces more amusement than any body.'

BOSWELL. 'You say, Dr. Johnson, that Garrick exhibits himself for a

shilling. In this respect he is only on a footing with a lawyer who

exhibits himself for his fee, and even will maintain any nonsense or

absurdity, if the case requires it. Garrick refuses a play or a part

which he does not like; a lawyer never refuses.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir,

what does this prove? only that a lawyer is worse. Boswell is now like

Jack in _The Tale of a Tub_[690], who, when he is puzzled by an argument,

hangs himself. He thinks I shall cut him down, but I'll let him hang'

(laughing vociferously). SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 'Mr. Boswell thinks that

the profession of a lawyer being unquestionably honourable, if he can

show the profession of a player to be more honourable, he proves his

argument.'

On Friday, April 30, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk's, where were

Lord Charlemont, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and some more members of the

LITERARY CLUB, whom he had obligingly invited to meet me, as I was this

evening to be balloted for as candidate for admission into that

distinguished society. Johnson had done me the honour to propose me[691],

and Beauclerk was very zealous for me.

Goldsmith being mentioned; JOHNSON. 'It is amazing how little Goldsmith

knows. He seldom comes where he is not more ignorant than any one else.'

SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 'Yet there is no man whose company is more liked.'

JOHNSON. 'To be sure, Sir. When people find a man of the most

distinguished abilities as a writer, their inferiour while he is with

them, it must be highly gratifying to them. What Goldsmith comically

says of himself is very true,--he always gets the better when he argues

alone; meaning, that he is master of a subject in his study, and can

write well upon it; but when he comes into company, grows confused, and

unable to talk[692]. Take him as a poet, his _Traveller_ is a very fine

performance; ay, and so is his _Deserted Village_, were it not sometimes

too much the echo of his _Traveller_. Whether, indeed, we take him as a

poet,--as a comick writer,--or as an historian, he stands in the first

class.' BOSWELL. 'An historian! My dear Sir, you surely will not rank

his compilation of the Roman History with the works of other historians

of this age?' JOHNSON. 'Why, who are before him[693]?' BOSWELL. 'Hume,--

Robertson[694],--Lord Lyttelton.' JOHNSON (his antipathy to the Scotch

beginning to rise). 'I have not read Hume; but, doubtless, Goldsmith's

_History_ is better than the _verbiage_ of Robertson[695], or the foppery

of Dalrymple[696].' BOSWELL. 'Will you not admit the superiority of

Robertson, in whose _History_ we find such penetration--such painting?'

JOHNSON. 'Sir, you must consider how that penetration and that painting

are employed. It is not history, it is imagination. He who describes

what he never saw, draws from fancy. Robertson paints minds as Sir

Joshua paints faces in a history-piece: he imagines an heroic

countenance. You must look upon Robertson's work as romance, and try it

by that standard[697].History it is not. Besides, Sir, it is the great

excellence of a writer to put into his book as much as his book will

hold. Goldsmith has done this in his _History_. Now Robertson might have

put twice as much into his book. Robertson is like a man who has packed

gold in wool: the wool takes up more room than the gold. No, Sir; I

always thought Robertson would be crushed by his own weight,--would be

buried under his own ornaments. Goldsmith tells you shortly all you want

to know: Robertson detains you a great deal too long. No man will read

Robertson's cumbrous detail a second time; but Goldsmith's plain

narrative will please again and again. I would say to Robertson what an

old tutor of a college said to one of his pupils: "Read over your

compositions, and where ever you meet with a passage which you think is

particularly fine, strike it out." Goldsmith's abridgement is better

than that of Lucius Florus or Eutropius; and I will venture to say, that

if you compare him with Vertot[698], in the same places of the Roman

History, you will find that he excels Vertot. Sir, he has the art of

compiling, and of saying every thing he has to say in a pleasing

manner[699]. He is now writing a Natural History and will make it as

entertaining as a Persian Tale.'

I cannot dismiss the present topick without observing, that it is

probable that Dr. Johnson, who owned that he often 'talked for victory,'

rather urged plausible objections to Dr. Robertson's excellent

historical works, in the ardour of contest, than expressed his real and

decided opinion; for it is not easy to suppose, that he should so widely

differ from the rest of the literary world[700].

JOHNSON. 'I remember once being with Goldsmith in Westminster-abbey.

While we surveyed the Poets' Corner, I said to him,

"_Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis_[701]."

When we got to Temple-bar he stopped me, pointed to the heads upon

it[702], and slily whispered me,

"_Forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur_ ISTIS[703]."'.

Johnson praised John Bunyan highly. 'His _Pilgrim's Progress_ has great

merit, both for invention, imagination, and the conduct of the story;

and it has had the best evidence of its merit, the general and continued

approbation of mankind. Few books, I believe, have had a more extensive

sale. It is remarkable, that it begins very much like the poem of Dante;

yet there was no translation of Dante when Bunyan wrote. There is reason

to think that he had read Spenser[704].'

A proposition which had been agitated, that monuments to eminent persons

should, for the time to come, be erected in St. Paul's church as well as

in Westminster-abbey, was mentioned; and it was asked, who should be

honoured by having his monument first erected there[705]. Somebody

suggested Pope. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, as Pope was a Roman Catholick, I

would not have his to be first. I think Milton's rather should have the

precedence[706]. I think more highly of him now than I did at twenty[707].

There is more thinking in him and in Butler, than in any of our poets.'

Some of the company expressed a wonder why the authour of so excellent a

book as _The Whole Duty of Man_[708] should conceal himself. JOHNSON.

'There may be different reasons assigned for this, any one of which

would be very sufficient. He may have been a clergyman, and may have

thought that his religious counsels would have less weight when known to

come from a man whose profession was Theology. He may have been a man

whose practice was not suitable to his principles, so that his character

might injure the effect of his book, which he had written in a season of

penitence. Or he may have been a man of rigid self-denial, so that he

would have no reward for his pious labours while in this world, but

refer it all to a future state.'

The gentlemen went away to their club, and I was left at Beauclerk's

till the fate of my election should be announced to me. I sat in a state

of anxiety which even the charming conversation of Lady Di Beauclerk

could not entirely dissipate. In a short time I received the agreeable

intelligence that I was chosen[709]. I hastened to the place of meeting,

and was introduced to such a society as can seldom be found. Mr. Edmund

Burke, whom I then saw for the first time, and whose splendid talents

had long made me ardently wish for his acquaintance; Dr. Nugent, Mr.

Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Jones[710], and the

company with whom I had dined. Upon my entrance, Johnson placed himself

behind a chair, on which he leaned as on a desk or pulpit, and with

humorous formality gave me a _Charge_, pointing out the conduct expected

from me as a good member of this club.

Goldsmith produced some very absurd verses which had been publickly

recited to an audience for money[711]. JOHNSON. 'I can match this

nonsense. There was a poem called _Eugenio_, which came out some years

ago, and concludes thus:

"And now, ye trifling, self-assuming elves,

Brimful of pride, of nothing, of yourselves,

Survey Eugenio, view him o'er and o'er,

Then sink into yourselves, and be no more[712]."

'Nay, Dryden in his poem on the Royal Society[713], has these lines:

"Then we upon our globe's last verge shall go,

And see the ocean leaning on the sky;

From thence our rolling neighbours we shall know,

And on the lunar world securely pry."'

Talking of puns, Johnson, who had a great contempt for that species of

wit[714], deigned to allow that there was one good pun in _Menagiana_, I

think on the word _corps_[715].

Much pleasant conversation passed, which Johnson relished with great

good humour. But his conversation alone, or what led to it, or was

interwoven with it, is the business of this work[716].

On Saturday, May 1, we dined by ourselves at our old rendezvous, the

Mitre tavern. He was placid, but not much disposed to talk. He observed

that 'The Irish mix better with the English than the Scotch do; their

language is nearer to English; as a proof of which, they succeed very

well as players, which Scotchmen do not. Then, Sir, they have not that

extreme nationality which we find in the Scotch. I will do you, Boswell,

the justice to say, that you are the most _unscottified_ of your

countrymen. You are almost the only instance of a Scotchman that I have

known, who did not at every other sentence bring in some other

Scotchman[717].'

We drank tea with Mrs. Williams. I introduced a question which has been

much agitated in the Church of Scotland, whether the claim of

lay-patrons to present ministers to parishes be well founded; and

supposing it to be well founded, whether it ought to be exercised

without the concurrence of the people? That Church is composed of a

series of judicatures: a Presbytery, a Synod, and finally, a General

Assembly; before all of which, this matter may be contended: and in some

cases the Presbytery having refused to induct or _settle_, as they call

it, the person presented by the patron, it has been found necessary to

appeal to the General Assembly. He said, I might see the subject well

treated in the _Defence of Pluralities_[718]; and although he thought that

a patron should exercise his right with tenderness to the inclinations

of the people of a parish, he was very clear as to his right. Then

supposing the question to be pleaded before the General Assembly, he

dictated to me what follows:

'Against the right of patrons is commonly opposed, by the inferiour

judicatures, the plea of conscience. Their conscience tells them, that

the people ought to choose their pastor; their conscience tells them

that they ought not to impose upon a congregation a minister ungrateful

and unacceptable to his auditors. Conscience is nothing more than a

conviction felt by ourselves of something to be done, or something to be

avoided; and in questions of simple unperplexed morality, conscience is

very often a guide that may be trusted. But before conscience can

determine, the state of the question is supposed to be completely known.

In questions of law, or of fact, conscience is very often confounded

with opinion. No man's conscience can tell him the right of another

man[719]; they must be known by rational investigation or historical

enquiry. Opinion, which he that holds it may call his conscience, may

teach some men that religion would be promoted, and quiet preserved, by

granting to the people universally the choice of their ministers. But it

is a conscience very ill informed that violates the rights of one man,

for the convenience of another. Religion cannot be promoted by

injustice: and it was never yet found that a popular election was very

quietly transacted.

'That justice would be violated by transferring to the people the right

of patronage, is apparent to all who know whence that right had its

original. The right of patronage was not at first a privilege torn by

power from unresisting poverty. It is not an authority at first usurped

in times of ignorance, and established only by succession and by

precedents. It is not a grant capriciously made from a higher tyrant to

a lower. It is a right dearly purchased by the first possessors, and

justly inherited by those that succeeded them. When Christianity was

established in this island, a regular mode of publick worship was

prescribed. Publick worship requires a publick place; and the

proprietors of lands, as they were converted, built churches for their

families and their vassals. For the maintenance of ministers, they

settled a certain portion of their lands; and a district, through which

each minister was required to extend his care, was, by that

circumscription, constituted a parish. This is a position so generally

received in England, that the extent of a manor and of a parish are

regularly received for each other. The churches which the proprietors of

lands had thus built and thus endowed, they justly thought themselves

entitled to provide with ministers; and where the episcopal government

prevails, the Bishop has no power to reject a man nominated by the

patron, but for some crime that might exclude him from the priesthood.

For the endowment of the church being the gift of the landlord, he was

consequently at liberty to give it according to his choice, to any man

capable of performing the holy offices. The people did not choose him,

because the people did not pay him.

'We hear it sometimes urged, that this original right is passed out of

memory, and is obliterated and obscured by many translations of property

and changes of government; that scarce any church is now in the hands of

the heirs of the builders; and that the present persons have entered

subsequently upon the pretended rights by a thousand accidental and

unknown causes. Much of this, perhaps, is true. But how is the right of

patronage extinguished? If the right followed the lands, it is possessed

by the same equity by which the lands are possessed. It is, in effect,

part of the manor, and protected by the same laws with every other

privilege. Let us suppose an estate forfeited by treason, and granted by

the Crown to a new family. With the lands were forfeited all the rights

appendant to those lands; by the same power that grants the lands, the

rights also are granted. The right lost to the patron falls not to the

people, but is either retained by the Crown, or what to the people is

the same thing, is by the Crown given away. Let it change hands ever so

often, it is possessed by him that receives it with the same right as it

was conveyed. It may, indeed, like all our possessions, be forcibly

seized or fraudulently obtained. But no injury is still done to the

people; for what they never had, they have never lost. Caius may usurp

the right of Titius; but neither Caius nor Titius injure the people; and

no man's conscience, however tender or however active, can prompt him to

restore what may be proved to have been never taken away. Supposing,

what I think cannot be proved, that a popular election of ministers were

to be desired, our desires are not the measure of equity. It were to be

desired that power should be only in the hands of the merciful, and

riches in the possession of the generous; but the law must leave both

riches and power where it finds them: and must often leave riches with

the covetous, and power with the cruel. Convenience may be a rule in

little things, where no other rule has been established. But as the

great end of government is to give every man his own, no inconvenience

is greater than that of making right uncertain. Nor is any man more an

enemy to publick peace, than he who fills weak heads with imaginary

claims, and breaks the series of civil subordination, by inciting the

lower classes of mankind to encroach upon the higher.

'Having thus shown that the right of patronage, being originally

purchased, may be legally transferred, and that it is now in the hands

of lawful possessors, at least as certainly as any other right;--we have

left to the advocates of the people no other plea than that of

convenience. Let us, therefore, now consider what the people would

really gain by a general abolition of the right of patronage. What is

most to be desired by such a change is, that the country should be

supplied with better ministers. But why should we suppose that the

parish will make a wiser choice than the patron? If we suppose mankind

actuated by interest, the patron is more likely to choose with caution,

because he will suffer more by choosing wrong. By the deficiencies of

his minister, or by his vices, he is equally offended with the rest of

the congregation; but he will have this reason more to lament them, that

they will be imputed to his absurdity or corruption. The qualifications

of a minister are well known to be learning and piety. Of his learning

the patron is probably the only judge in the parish; and of his piety

not less a judge than others; and is more likely to enquire minutely and

diligently before he gives a presentation, than one of the parochial

rabble, who can give nothing but a vote. It may be urged, that though

the parish might not choose better ministers, they would at least choose

ministers whom they like better, and who would therefore officiate with

greater efficacy. That ignorance and perverseness should always obtain

what they like, was never considered as the end of government; of which

it is the great and standing benefit, that the wise see for the simple,

and the regular act for the capricious. But that this argument supposes

the people capable of judging, and resolute to act according to their

best judgments, though this be sufficiently absurd, it is not all its

absurdity. It supposes not only wisdom, but unanimity in those, who upon

no other occasions are unanimous or wise. If by some strange concurrence

all the voices of a parish should unite in the choice of any single man,

though I could not charge the patron with injustice for presenting a

minister, I should censure him as unkind and injudicious. But, it is

evident, that as in all other popular elections there will be

contrariety of judgment and acrimony of passion, a parish upon every

vacancy would break into factions, and the contest for the choice of a

minister would set neighbours at variance, and bring discord into

families. The minister would be taught all the arts of a candidate,

would flatter some, and bribe others; and the electors, as in all other

cases, would call for holidays and ale, and break the heads of each

other during the jollity of the canvas. The time must, however, come at

last, when one of the factions must prevail, and one of the ministers

get possession of the church. On what terms does he enter upon his

ministry but those of enmity with half his parish? By what prudence or

what diligence can he hope to conciliate the affections of that party by

whose defeat he has obtained his living? Every man who voted against him

will enter the church with hanging head and downcast eyes, afraid to

encounter that neighbour by whose vote and influence he has been

overpowered. He will hate his neighbour for opposing him, and his

minister for having prospered by the opposition; and as he will never

see him but with pain, he will never see him but with hatred. Of a

minister presented by the patron, the parish has seldom any thing worse

to say than that they do not know him. Of a minister chosen by a popular

contest, all those who do not favour him, have nursed up in their bosoms

principles of hatred and reasons of rejection. Anger is excited

principally by pride. The pride of a common man is very little

exasperated by the supposed usurpation of an acknowledged superiour. He

bears only his little share of a general evil, and suffers in common

with the whole parish; but when the contest is between equals, the

defeat has many aggravations; and he that is defeated by his next

neighbour, is seldom satisfied without some revenge; and it is hard to

say what bitterness of malignity would prevail in a parish where these

elections should happen to be frequent, and the enmity of opposition

should be re-kindled before it had cooled.'

Though I present to my readers Dr. Johnson's masterly thoughts on the

subject, I think it proper to declare, that notwithstanding I am myself

a lay patron, I do not entirely subscribe to his opinion.

On Friday, May 7, I breakfasted with him at Mr. Thrale's in the Borough.

While we were alone, I endeavoured as well as I could to apologise for a

lady[720] who had been divorced from her husband by act of Parliament. I

said, that he had used her very ill, had behaved brutally to her, and

that she could not continue to live with him without having her delicacy

contaminated; that all affection for him was thus destroyed; that the

essence of conjugal union being gone, there remained only a cold form, a

mere civil obligation; that she was in the prime of life, with qualities

to produce happiness; that these ought not to be lost; and, that the

gentleman on whose account she was divorced had gained her heart while

thus unhappily situated. Seduced, perhaps, by the charms of the lady in

question, I thus attempted to palliate what I was sensible could not be

justified; for when I had finished my harangue, my venerable friend gave

me a proper check: 'My dear Sir, never accustom your mind to mingle

virtue and vice. The woman's a whore, and there's an end on't.'

He described the father[721] of one of his friends thus: 'Sir, he was so

exuberant a talker at publick meeting, that the gentlemen of his county

were afraid of him. No business could be done for his declamation.'

He did not give me full credit when I mentioned that I had carried on a

short conversation by signs with some Esquimaux who were then in London,

particularly with one of them who was a priest. He thought I could not

make them understand me. No man was more incredulous as to particular

facts, which were at all extraordinary[722]; and therefore no man was more

scrupulously inquisitive, in order to discover the truth.

I dined with him this day at the house of my friends, Messieurs Edward

and Charles Dilly[723], booksellers in the Poultry: there were present,

their elder brother Mr. Dilly of Bedfordshire, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr.

Langton, Mr. Claxton, Reverend Dr. Mayo a dissenting minister, the

Reverend Mr. Toplady[724], and my friend the Reverend Mr. Temple.

Hawkesworth's compilation of the voyages to the South Sea being

mentioned;--JOHNSON. 'Sir, if you talk of it as a subject of commerce,

it will be gainful[725]; if as a book that is to increase human knowledge,

I believe there will not be much of that. Hawkesworth can tell only what

the voyagers have told him; and they have found very little, only one

new animal, I think.' BOSWELL. 'But many insects, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'Why,

Sir, as to insects, Ray reckons of British insects twenty thousand

species. They might have staid at home and discovered enough in that

way.'

Talking of birds, I mentioned Mr. Daines Barrington's ingenious Essay

against the received notion of their migration. JOHNSON. 'I think we

have as good evidence for the migration of woodcocks as can be desired.

We find they disappear at a certain time of the year, and appear again

at a certain time of the year; and some of them, when weary in their

flight, have been known to alight on the rigging of ships far out at

sea.' One of the company observed, that there had been instances of some

of them found in summer in Essex. JOHNSON. 'Sir, that strengthens our

argument. _Exceptio probat regulam_. Some being found shews, that, if

all remained, many would be found. A few sick or lame ones may be

found.' GOLDSMITH. 'There is a partial migration of the swallows; the

stronger ones migrate, the others do not[726].'

BOSWELL. 'I am well assured that the people of Otaheite who have the

bread tree, the fruit of which serves them for bread, laughed heartily

when they were informed of the tedious process necessary with us to have

bread;--plowing, sowing, harrowing, reaping, threshing, grinding,

baking.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, all ignorant savages will laugh when they

are told of the advantages of civilized life. Were you to tell men who

live without houses, how we pile brick upon brick, and rafter upon

rafter, and that after a house is raised to a certain height, a man

tumbles off a scaffold, and breaks his neck; he would laugh heartily at

our folly in building; but it does not follow that men are better

without houses. No, Sir, (holding up a slice of a good loaf,) this is

better than the bread tree[727].'

He repeated an argument, which is to be found in his _Rambler_[728],

against the notion that the brute creation is endowed with the faculty

of reason: 'birds build by instinct; they never improve; they build

their first nest as well as any one they ever build.' GOLDSMITH. 'Yet we

see if you take away a bird's nest with the eggs in it, she will make a

slighter nest and lay again.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, that is because at first

she has full time and makes her nest deliberately. In the case you

mention she is pressed to lay, and must therefore make her nest quickly,

and consequently it will be slight.' GOLDSMITH. 'The identification of

birds is what is least known in natural history, though one of the most

curious things in it.'

I introduced the subject of toleration[729]. JOHNSON. 'Every society has a

right to preserve publick peace and order, and therefore has a good

right to prohibit the propagation of opinions which have a dangerous

tendency. To say the _magistrate_ has this right, is using an inadequate

word: it is the _society_ for which the magistrate is agent. He may be

morally or theologically wrong in restraining the propagation of

opinions which he thinks dangerous, but he is politically right.' MAYO.

'I am of opinion, Sir, that every man is entitled to liberty of

conscience in religion; and that the magistrate cannot restrain that

right.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I agree with you. Every man has a right to

liberty of conscience, and with that the magistrate cannot interfere.

People confound liberty of thinking with liberty of talking; nay, with

liberty of preaching. Every man has a physical right to think as he

pleases; for it cannot be discovered how he thinks. He has not a moral

right, for he ought to inform himself, and think justly. But, Sir, no

member of a society has a right to _teach_ any doctrine contrary to what

the society holds to be true. The magistrate, I say, may be wrong in

what he thinks: but while he thinks himself right, he may and ought to

enforce what he thinks[730].' MAYO. 'Then, Sir, we are to remain always in

errour, and truth never can prevail; and the magistrate was right in

persecuting the first Christians.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, the only method by

which religious truth can be established is by martyrdom. The magistrate

has a right to enforce what he thinks; and he who is conscious of the

truth has a right to suffer. I am afraid there is no other way of

ascertaining the truth, but by persecution on the one hand and enduring

it on the other[731].' GOLDSMITH. 'But how is a man to act, Sir? Though

firmly convinced of the truth of his doctrine, may he not think it wrong

to expose himself to persecution? Has he a right to do so? Is it not, as

it were, committing voluntary suicide?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, as to voluntary

suicide, as you call it, there are twenty thousand men in an army who

will go without scruple to be shot at, and mount a breach for five-pence

a day.' GOLDSMITH. 'But have they a moral right to do this?' JOHNSON.

'Nay, Sir, if you will not take the universal opinion of mankind, I have

nothing to say. If mankind cannot defend their own way of thinking, I

cannot defend it. Sir, if a man is in doubt whether it would be better

for him to expose himself to martyrdom or not, he should not do it. He

must be convinced that he has a delegation from heaven.' GOLDSMITH. 'I

would consider whether there is the greater chance of good or evil upon

the whole. If I see a man who had fallen into a well, I would wish to

help him out; but if there is a greater probability that he shall pull

me in, than that I shall pull him out, I would not attempt it. So were I

to go to Turkey, I might wish to convert the Grand Signor to the

Christian faith; but when I considered that I should probably be put to

death without effectuating my purpose in any degree, I should keep

myself quiet.' JOHNSON. 'Sir you must consider that we have perfect and

imperfect obligations. Perfect obligations, which are generally not to

do something, are clear and positive; as, 'thou shalt not kill.' But

charity, for instance, is not definable by limits. It is a duty to give

to the poor; but no man can say how much another should give to the

poor, or when a man has given too little to save his soul. In the same

manner it is a duty to instruct the ignorant, and of consequence to

convert infidels to Christianity; but no man in the common course of

things is obliged to carry this to such a degree as to incur the danger

of martyrdom, as no man is obliged to strip himself to the shirt in

order to give charity. I have said, that a man must be persuaded that he

has a particular delegation from heaven.' GOLDSMITH. 'How is this to be

known? Our first reformers, who were burnt for not believing bread and

wine to be CHRIST'--JOHNSON, (interrupting him,) 'Sir, they were not

burnt for not believing bread and wine to be CHRIST, but for insulting

those who did believe it. And, Sir, when the first reformers began, they

did not intend to be martyred: as many of them ran away as could.'

BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, there was your countryman, Elwal[732], who you told me

challenged King George with his black-guards, and his red-guards.'

JOHNSON. 'My countryman, Elwal, Sir, should have been put in the stocks;

a proper pulpit for him; and he'd have had a numerous audience. A man

who preaches in the stocks will always have hearers enough.' BOSWELL.

'But Elwal thought himself in the right.' JOHNSON. 'We are not providing

for mad people; there are places for them in the neighbourhood' (meaning

Moorfields). MAYO. 'But, Sir, is it not very hard that I should not be

allowed to teach my children what I really believe to be the truth?'

JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, you might contrive to teach your children _extrA

scandalum_; but, Sir, the magistrate, if he knows it, has a right to

restrain you. Suppose you teach your children to be thieves?' MAYO.

'This is making a joke of the subject.' JOHNSON.' 'Nay, Sir, take it

thus:--that you teach them the community of goods; for which there are

as many plausible arguments as for most erroneous doctrines. You teach

them that all things at first were in common, and that no man had a

right to any thing but as he laid his hands upon it; and that this still

is, or ought to be, the rule amongst mankind. Here, Sir, you sap a great

principle in society,--property. And don't you think the magistrate

would have a right to prevent you? Or, suppose you should teach your

children the notion of the Adamites, and they should run naked into the

streets, would not the magistrate have a right to flog 'em into their

doublets?' MAYO. 'I think the magistrate has no right to interfere till

there is some overt act.' BOSWELL. 'So, Sir, though he sees an enemy to

the state charging a blunderbuss, he is not to interfere till it is

fired off?' MAYO. 'He must be sure of its direction against the state.'

JOHNSON. 'The magistrate is to judge of that.--He has no right to

restrain your thinking, because the evil centers in yourself. If a man

were sitting at this table, and chopping off his fingers, the

magistrate, as guardian of the community, has no authority to restrain

him, however he might do it from kindness as a parent.--Though, indeed,

upon more consideration, I think he may; as it is probable, that he who

is chopping off his own fingers, may soon proceed to chop off those of

other people. If I think it right to steal Mr. Dilly's plate, I am a bad

man; but he can say nothing to me. If I make an open declaration that I

think so, he will keep me out of his house. If I put forth my hand, I

shall be sent to Newgate. This is the gradation of thinking, preaching,

and acting: if a man thinks erroneously, he may keep his thoughts to

himself, and nobody will trouble him; if he preaches erroneous doctrine,

society may expel him; if he acts in consequence of it, the law takes

place, and he is hanged[733].' MAYO. 'But, Sir, ought not Christians to

have liberty of conscience?' JOHNSON. 'I have already told you so, Sir.

You are coming back to where you were,' BOSWELL. 'Dr. Mayo is always

taking a return post-chaise, and going the stage over again. He has it

at half price.' JOHNSON. 'Dr. Mayo, like other champions for unlimited

toleration, has got a set of words[734]. Sir, it is no matter,

politically, whether the magistrate be right or wrong. Suppose a club

were to be formed, to drink confusion to King George the Third, and a

happy restoration to Charles the Third[735], this would be very bad with

respect to the State; but every member of that club must either conform

to its rules, or be turned out of it. Old Baxter, I remember, maintains,

that the magistrate should "tolerate all things that are tolerable."

This is no good definition of toleration upon any principle; but it

shews that he thought some things were not tolerable.' TOPLADY. 'Sir,

you have untwisted this difficult subject with great dexterity[736].'

During this argument, Goldsmith sat in restless agitation, from a wish

to get in and _shine_[737]. Finding himself excluded, he had taken his hat

to go away[738], but remained for some time with it in his hand, like a

gamester, who at the close of a long night, lingers for a little while,

to see if he can have a favourable opening to finish with success. Once

when he was beginning to speak, he found himself overpowered by the loud

voice of Johnson, who was at the opposite end of the table, and did not

perceive Goldsmith's attempt. Thus disappointed of his wish to obtain

the attention of the company, Goldsmith in a passion threw down his hat,

looking angrily at Johnson, and exclaiming in a bitter tone, '_Take

it_.' When Toplady was going to speak, Johnson uttered some sound, which

led Goldsmith to think that he was beginning again, and taking the words

from Toplady. Upon which, he seized this opportunity of venting his own

envy and spleen, under the pretext of supporting another person: 'Sir,

(said he to Johnson,) the gentleman has heard you patiently for an hour;

pray allow us now to hear him[739].' JOHNSON. (sternly,) 'Sir, I was not

interrupting the gentleman. I was only giving him a signal of my

attention. Sir, you are impertinent.' Goldsmith made no reply, but

continued in the company for some time.

A gentleman present[740] ventured to ask Dr. Johnson if there was not a

material difference as to toleration of opinions which lead to action,

and opinions merely speculative; for instance, would it be wrong in the

magistrate to tolerate those who preach against the doctrine of the

TRINITY? Johnson was highly offended, and said, 'I wonder, Sir, how a

gentleman of your piety can introduce this subject in a mixed company.'

He told me afterwards, that the impropriety was, that perhaps some of

the company might have talked on the subject in such terms as might have

shocked him[741]; or he might have been forced to appear in their eyes a

narrow-minded man. The gentleman, with submissive deference, said, he

had only hinted at the question from a desire to hear Dr. Johnson's

opinion upon it. JOHNSON. 'Why then, Sir, I think that permitting men to

preach any opinion contrary to the doctrine of the established church

tends, in a certain degree, to lessen the authority of the church, and

consequently, to lessen the influence of religion.' 'It may be

considered, (said the gentleman,) whether it would not be politick to

tolerate in such a case.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, we have been talking of

_right_: this is another question. I think it is _not_ politick to

tolerate in such a case.'

Though he did not think it fit that so aweful a subject should be

introduced in a mixed company, and therefore at this time waved the

theological question; yet his own orthodox belief in the sacred mystery

of the TRINITY is evinced beyond doubt, by the following passage in his

private devotions:

'O LORD, hear my prayer [prayers], for JESUS CHRIST'S sake; to whom with

thee and the HOLY GHOST, _three persons and one_ GOD, be all honour and

glory, world without end, Amen[742].'

BOSWELL. 'Pray, Mr. Dilly, how does Dr. Leland's[743] _History of Ireland_

sell?' JOHNSON, (bursting forth with a generous indignation,) 'The Irish

are in a most unnatural state; for we see there the minority prevailing

over the majority[744]. There is no instance, even in the ten

persecutions[745], of such severity as that which the protestants of

Ireland have exercised against the Catholicks. Did we tell them we have

conquered them, it would be above board: to punish them by confiscation

and other penalties, as rebels, was monstrous injustice[746]. King William

was not their lawful sovereign: he had not been acknowledged by the

Parliament of Ireland, when they appeared in arms against him.'

I here suggested something favourable of the Roman Catholicks. TOPLADY.

'Does not their invocation of saints suppose omnipresence in the

saints?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; it supposes only pluri-presence, and when

spirits are divested of matter, it seems probable that they should see

with more extent than when in an embodied state. There is, therefore, no

approach to an invasion of any of the divine attributes, in the

invocation of saints. But I think it is will-worship, and presumption. I

see no command for it, and therefore think it is safer not to practise

it[747].'

He and Mr. Langton and I went together to THE CLUB, where we found Mr.

Burke, Mr. Garrick, and some other members, and amongst them our friend

Goldsmith, who sat silently brooding over Johnson's reprimand to him

after dinner. Johnson perceived this, and said aside to some of us,

'I'll make Goldsmith forgive me;' and then called to him in a loud

voice, 'Dr. Goldsmith,--something passed to-day where you and I dined; I

ask your pardon[748].' Goldsmith answered placidly, 'It must be much from

you, Sir, that I take ill.' And so at once the difference was over, and

they were on as easy terms as ever, and Goldsmith rattled away as

usual[749].

In our way to the club to-night, when I regretted that Goldsmith would,

upon every occasion, endeavour to shine, by which he often exposed

himself, Mr. Langton observed, that he was not like Addison, who was

content with the fame of his writings, and did not aim also at

excellency in conversation, for which he found himself unfit; and that

he said to a lady who complained of his having talked little in company,

'Madam, I have but nine-pence in ready money, but I can draw for a

thousand pound[750].' I observed, that Goldsmith had a great deal of gold

in his cabinet, but, not content with that, was always taking out his

purse. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, and that so often an empty purse!'

Goldsmith's incessant desire of being conspicuous in company, was the

occasion of his sometimes appearing to such disadvantage as one should

hardly have supposed possible in a man of his genius[751]. When his

literary reputation had risen deservedly high, and his society was much

courted, he became very jealous of the extraordinary attention which was

every where paid to Johnson. One evening, in a circle of wits, he found

fault with me for talking of Johnson as entitled to the honour of

unquestionable superiority. 'Sir, (said he,) you are for making a

monarchy of what should be a republick.'

He was still more mortified, when talking in a company with fluent

vivacity, and, as he flattered himself, to the admiration of all who

were present; a German who sat next him, and perceived Johnson rolling

himself, as if about to speak, suddenly stopped him, saying, 'Stay,

stay,--Toctor Shonson is going to say something.' This was, no doubt,

very provoking, especially to one so irritable as Goldsmith, who

frequently mentioned it with strong expressions of indignation[752].

It may also be observed, that Goldsmith was sometimes content to be

treated with an easy familiarity, but, upon occasions, would be

consequential and important. An instance of this occurred in a small

particular. Johnson had a way of contracting the names of his friends;

as Beauclerk, Beau; Boswell, Bozzy; Langton, Lanky; Murphy, Mur;

Sheridan, Sherry[753]. I remember one day, when Tom Davies was telling

that Dr. Johnson said, 'We are all in labour for a name to _Goldy's_

play,' Goldsmith seemed displeased that such a liberty should be taken

with his name, and said, 'I have often desired him not to call me

_Goldy_[754].' Tom was remarkably attentive to the most minute

circumstance about Johnson. I recollect his telling me once, on my

arrival in London, 'Sir, our great friend has made an improvement on his

appellation of old Mr. Sheridan. He calls him now _Sherry derry_.'

'To THE REVEREND MR. BAGSHAW, AT BROMLEY[755].

'SIR,

'I return you my sincere thanks for your additions to my _Dictionary_;

but the new edition has been published some time, and therefore I cannot

now make use of them. Whether I shall ever revise it more, I know not.

If many readers had been as judicious, as diligent, and as communicative

as yourself, my work had been better. The world must at present take it

as it is. I am, Sir,

'Your most obliged

'And most humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'May 8, 1773.'

On Sunday, May 8[756], I dined with Johnson at Mr. Langton's[757] with Dr.

Beattie and some other company. He descanted on the subject of Literary

Property. 'There seems (said he,) to be in authours a stronger right of

property than that by occupancy; a metaphysical[758] right, a right, as it

were, of creation, which should from its nature be perpetual; but the

consent of nations is against it, and indeed reason and the interests of

learning are against it; for were it to be perpetual, no book, however

useful, could be universally diffused amongst mankind, should the

proprietor take it into his head to restrain its circulation. No book

could have the advantage of being edited with notes, however necessary

to its elucidation, should the proprietor perversely oppose it. For the

general good of the world, therefore, whatever valuable work has once

been created by an authour, and issued out by him, should be understood

as no longer in his power, but as belonging to the publick; at the same

time the authour is entitled to an adequate reward. This he should have

by an exclusive right to his work for a considerable number of

years[759].'

He attacked Lord Monboddo's strange speculation on the primitive state

of human nature[760]; observing, 'Sir, it is all conjecture about a thing

useless, even were it known to be true. Knowledge of all kinds is good.

Conjecture, as to things useful, is good; but conjecture as to what it

would be useless to know, such as whether men went upon all four, is

very idle.'

On Monday, May 9[761], as I was to set out on my return to Scotland next

morning, I was desirous to see as much of Dr. Johnson as I could. But I

first called on Goldsmith to take leave of him. The jealousy and envy

which, though possessed of many most amiable qualities, he frankly

avowed, broke out violently at this interview. Upon another occasion,

when Goldsmith confessed himself to be of an envious disposition, I

contended with Johnson that we ought not to be angry with him, he was so

candid in owning it. 'Nay, Sir, (said Johnson,) we must be angry that a

man has such a superabundance of an odious quality, that he cannot keep

it within his own breast, but it boils over.' In my opinion, however,

Goldsmith had not more of it than other people have, but only talked of

it freely[762].

He now seemed very angry that Johnson was going to be a traveller; said

'he would be a dead weight for me to carry, and that I should never be

able to lug him along through the Highlands and Hebrides.' Nor would he

patiently allow me to enlarge upon Johnson's wonderful abilities; but

exclaimed, 'Is he like Burke, who winds into a subject like a serpent?'

'But, (said I,) Johnson is the Hercules who strangled serpents in his

cradle.'

I dined with Dr. Johnson at General Paoli's. He was obliged, by

indisposition, to leave the company early; he appointed me, however, to

meet him in the evening at Mr. (now Sir Robert) Chambers's in the

Temple, where he accordingly came, though he continued to be very ill.

Chambers, as is common on such occasions, prescribed various remedies to

him. JOHNSON. (fretted by pain,) 'Pr'ythee don't tease me. Stay till I

am well, and then you shall tell me how to cure myself.' He grew better,

and talked with a noble enthusiasm of keeping up the representation of

respectable families. His zeal on this subject was a circumstance in his

character exceedingly remarkable, when it is considered that he himself

had no pretensions to blood. I heard him once say, 'I have great merit

in being zealous for subordination and the honours of birth; for I can

hardly tell who was my grandfather[763].' He maintained the dignity and

propriety of male succession, in opposition to the opinion of one of our

friends[764], who had that day employed Mr. Chambers to draw his will,

devising his estate to his three sisters, in preference to a remote heir

male. Johnson called them 'three _dowdies_,' and said, with as high a

spirit as the boldest Baron in the most perfect days of the feudal

system, 'An ancient estate should always go to males. It is mighty

foolish to let a stranger have it because he marries your daughter, and

takes your name. As for an estate newly acquired by trade, you may give

it, if you will, to the dog _Towser_, and let him keep his _own_ name.'

I have known him at times exceedingly diverted at what seemed to others

a very small sport[765]. He now laughed immoderately, without any reason

that we could perceive, at our friend's making his will; called him the

_testator_, and added, 'I dare say, he thinks he has done a mighty

thing. He won't stay till he gets home to his seat in the country, to

produce this wonderful deed: he'll call up the landlord of the first inn

on the road; and, after a suitable preface upon mortality and the

uncertainty of life, will tell him that he should not delay making his

will; and here, Sir, will he say, is my will, which I have just made,

with the assistance of one of the ablest lawyers in the kingdom; and he

will read it to him (laughing all the time). He believes he has made

this will; but he did not make it: you, Chambers, made it for him. I

trust you have had more conscience than to make him say, "being of sound

understanding;" ha, ha, ha! I hope he has left me a legacy. I'd have his

will turned into verse, like a ballad.'

In this playful manner did he run on, exulting in his own pleasantry,

which certainly was not such as might be expected from the authour of

_The Rambler_, but which is here preserved, that my readers may be

acquainted even with the slightest occasional characteristicks of so

eminent a man.

Mr. Chambers did not by any means relish this jocularity upon a matter

of which _pars magna fuit_[766], and seemed impatient till he got rid of

us. Johnson could not stop his merriment, but continued it all the way

till we got without the Temple-gate. He then burst into such a fit of

laughter, that he appeared to be almost in a convulsion; and, in order

to support himself, laid hold of one of the posts at the side of the

foot pavement, and sent forth peals so loud, that in the silence of the

night his voice seemed to resound from Temple-bar to Fleet-ditch.

This most ludicrous exhibition of the aweful, melancholy, and venerable

Johnson[767], happened well to counteract the feelings of sadness which I

used to experience when parting with him for a considerable time. I

accompanied him to his door, where he gave me his blessing.

He records of himself this year, 'Between Easter and Whitsuntide, having

always considered that time as propitious to study, I attempted to learn

the Low Dutch language[768].' It is to be observed, that he here admits an

opinion of the human mind being influenced by seasons, which he

ridicules in his writings[769]. His progress, he says, was interrupted by

a fever, 'which, by the imprudent use of a small print, left an

inflammation in his useful eye[770].' We cannot but admire his spirit when

we know, that amidst a complication of bodily and mental distress, he

was still animated with the desire of intellectual improvement[771].

Various notes of his studies appear on different days, in his manuscript

diary of this year, such as,

'Inchoavi lectionem Pentateuchi--Finivi lectionem Conf. Fab.

Burdonum[772].--Legi primum actum Troadum.--Legi Dissertationem Clerici

postremam de Pent.--2 of Clark's Sermons.--L. Appolonii pugnam

Betriciam.--L. centum versus Homeri.'

Let this serve as a specimen of what accessions of literature he was

perpetually infusing into his mind, while he charged himself with

idleness.

This year died Mrs. Salusbury, (mother of Mrs. Thrale,) a lady whom he

appears to have esteemed much, and whose memory he honoured with an

Epitaph[773].

In a letter from Edinburgh, dated the 29th of May, I pressed him to

persevere in his resolution to make this year the projected visit to the

Hebrides, of which he and I had talked for many years, and which I was

confident would afford us much entertainment.

'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'When your letter came to me, I was so darkened by an inflammation in my

eye, that I could not for some time read it. I can now write without

trouble, and can read large prints. My eye is gradually growing

stronger; and I hope will be able to take some delight in the survey of

a Caledonian loch.

'Chambers is going a Judge, with six thousand a year, to Bengal[774]. He

and I shall come down together as far as Newcastle, and thence I shall

easily get to Edinburgh. Let me know the exact time when your Courts

intermit. I must conform a little to Chambers's occasions, and he must

conform a little to mine. The time which you shall fix, must be the

common point to which we will come as near as we can. Except this eye, I

am very well.

'Beattie is so caressed, and invited, and treated, and liked, and

flattered, by the great, that I can see nothing of him. I am in great

hope that he will be well provided for, and then we will live upon him

at the Marischal College, without pity or modesty[775].

'----[776] left the town without taking leave of me, and is gone in deep

dudgeon to ----[777]. Is not this very childish? Where is now my

legacy[778]?

'I hope your dear lady and her dear baby are both well. I shall see them

too when I come; and I have that opinion of your choice, as to suspect

that when I have seen Mrs. Boswell, I shall be less willing to go away.

I am, dear Sir,

'Your affectionate humble servant,

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Johnson's-court, Fleet-street,