'CANCELLARIUS, Magistri, et Scholares Universitatis Oxoniensis omnibus
ad quos presentes Literae pervenerint, salutem in Domino Sempiternam.
'SCIATIS, virum illustrem, SAMUELEM JOHNSON, in omni humaniorum
literarum genere eruditum, omniumque scientiarum comprehensione
felicissimum, scriptis suis, ad popularium mores formandos summAi
verborum elegantiAi ac sententiarum gravitate compositis, ita olim
inclaruisse, ut dignus videretur cui ab AcademiAi suAi eximia quaedam
laudis praemia deferentur [deferrentur] quique [in] venerabilem
Magistrorum Ordinem summAi cum dignitate cooptaretur:
'Cum verA squared eundem clarissimum virum tot posteA tantique labores, in
patriAi praesertim linguAi ornandAi et stabiliendAi feliciter impensi, ita
insigniverint, ut in Literarum RepublicAi PRINCEPS jam et PRIMARIUS jure
habeatur; Nos CANCELLARIUS, Magistri, et Scholares Universitatis
Oxoniensis, quo talis viri merita pari honoris remuneratione
exaequentur, et perpetuum suae simul laudis, nostraeque ergA literas
propensissimae voluntatis extet monumentum, in solenni Convocatione
Doctorum et Magistrorum Regentium, et non Regentium, praedictum SAMUELEM
JOHNSON Doctorem in Jure Civili renunciavimus et constituimus, eumque
virtute praesentis Diplomatis singulis juribus, privilegiis et
honoribus, ad istum gradum quA quA pertinentibus, frui et gaudere
jussimus. In cujus rei testimonium commune Universitatis Oxoniensis
sigillum praesentibus apponi fecimus.
'Datum in Domo nostrae Convocationis die tricesimo Mensis Martii, Anno
Domini Millesimo septingentesimo, septuagesimo quinto[976].'
'_Viro Reverendo_ Thomae Fothergill, S.T.P. _Universitatis Oxoniensis
Vice-Cancellario_.
'S. P. D.
'Sam Johnson.
'MULTIS non est opus, ut testimonium quo, te praeside, Oxonienses nomen
meum posteris commendAcrunt, quali animo acceperim compertum faciam. Nemo
sibi placens non laetatur[977]; nemo sibi non placet, qui vobis, literarum
arbitris, placere potuit. Hoc tamen habet incommodi tantum beneficium,
quod mihi nunquam posthAcc sine vestrae famae detrimento vel labi liceat
vel cessare; semperque sit timendum, ne quod mihi tam eximiae laudi est,
vobis aliquando fiat opprobrio. Vale[978].'
'7 Id. Apr., 1775.'
He revised some sheets of Lord Hailes's _Annals of Scotland_, and wrote
a few notes on the margin with red ink, which he bade me tell his
Lordship did not sink into the paper, and might be wiped off with a wet
sponge, so that he did not spoil his manuscript. I observed to him that
there were very few of his friends so accurate as that I could venture
to put down in writing what they told me as his sayings. Johnson. 'Why
should you write down my sayings?' Boswell. 'I write them when they are
good.' Johnson. 'Nay, you may as well write down the sayings of any one
else that are good.' But _where_, I might with great propriety have
added, can I find such?
I visited him by appointment in the evening, and we drank tea with Mrs.
Williams. He told me that he had been in the company of a gentleman[979]
whose extraordinary travels had been much the subject of conversation.
But I found that he had not listened to him with that full confidence,
without which there is little satisfaction in the society of travellers.
I was curious to hear what opinion so able a judge as Johnson had formed
of his abilities, and I asked if he was not a man of sense. Johnson.
'Why, Sir, he is not a distinct relater; and I should say, he is neither
abounding nor deficient in sense. I did not perceive any superiority of
understanding.' BOSWELL. 'But will you not allow him a nobleness of
resolution, in penetrating into distant regions?' JOHNSON. 'That, Sir,
is not to the present purpose. We are talking of his sense. A fighting
cock has a nobleness of resolution.'
Next day, Sunday, April 2, I dined with him at Mr. Hoole's. We talked of
Pope. JOHNSON. 'He wrote his _Dunciad_ for fame. That was his primary
motive. Had it not been for that, the dunces might have railed against
him till they were weary, without his troubling himself about them. He
delighted to vex them, no doubt; but he had more delight in seeing how
well he could vex them.'[980]
The _Odes to Obscurity and Oblivion_, in ridicule of 'cool Mason and
warm Gray,'[981] being mentioned, Johnson said, 'They are Colman's best
things.' Upon its being observed that it was believed these Odes were
made by Colman and Lloyd jointly;--JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, how can two
people make an Ode? Perhaps one made one of them, and one the other.'[982]
I observed that two people had made a play, and quoted the anecdote of
Beaumont and Fletcher, who were brought under suspicion of treason,
because while concerting the plan of a tragedy when sitting together at
a tavern, one of them was overheard saying to the other, 'I'll kill the
King.' JOHNSON. 'The first of these Odes is the best: but they are both
good. They exposed a very bad kind of writing.' BOSWELL. 'Surely, Sir,
Mr. Mason's _Elfrida_ is a fine Poem: at least you will allow there are
some good passages in it.' JOHNSON. 'There are now and then some good
imitations of Milton's bad manner.'
I often wondered at his low estimation of the writings of Gray and
Mason. Of Gray's poetry I have in a former part of this work[983]
expressed my high opinion; and for that of Mr. Mason I have ever
entertained a warm admiration[984]. His _Elfrida_ is exquisite, both in
poetical description and moral sentiment; and his _Caractacus_ is a
noble drama[985]. Nor can I omit paying my tribute of praise to some of
his smaller poems, which I have read with pleasure, and which no
criticism shall persuade me not to like. If I wondered at Johnson's not
tasting the works of Mason and Gray, still more have I wondered at their
not tasting his works; that they should be insensible to his energy of
diction, to his splendour of images, and comprehension of thought.
Tastes may differ as to the violin, the flute, the hautboy, in short all
the lesser instruments: but who can be insensible to the powerful
impressions of the majestick organ?
His _Taxation no Tyranny_ being mentioned, he said, 'I think I have not
been attacked enough for it. Attack is the re-action; I never think I
have hit hard, unless it rebounds[986].' BOSWELL. 'I don't know, Sir, what
you would be at. Five or six shots of small arms in every newspaper, and
repeated cannonading in pamphlets, might, I think, satisfy you[987]. But,
Sir, you'll never make out this match, of which we have talked, with a
certain, political lady, since you are so severe against her
principles[988].' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I have the better chance for that.
She is like the Amazons of old; she must be courted by the sword. But I
have not been severe upon her.' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir, you have made her
ridiculous.' JOHNSON. 'That was already done, Sir. To endeavour to make
_her_ ridiculous, is like blacking the chimney.'
I put him in mind that the landlord at Ellon[989] in Scotland said, that
he heard he was the greatest man in England,--next to Lord Mansfield.
'Ay, Sir, (said he,) the exception defined the idea. A Scotchman could
go no farther:
"The force of Nature could no farther go[990]."'
Lady Miller's collection of verses by fashionable people, which were put
into her Vase at Batheaston villa[991], near Bath, in competition for
honorary prizes, being mentioned, he held them very cheap: '_Bouts
rimA(C)s_ (said he,) is a mere conceit, and an _old_ conceit now, I wonder
how people were persuaded to write in that manner for this lady[992].' I
named a gentleman of his acquaintance who wrote for the Vase. JOHNSON.
'He was a blockhead for his pains.' BOSWELL. 'The Duchess of
Northumberland wrote[993].' JOHNSON. 'Sir, the Duchess of Northumberland
may do what she pleases: nobody will say anything to a lady of her high
rank. But I should be apt to throw ----'s[994] verses in his face.'
I talked of the chearfulness of Fleet-street, owing to the constant
quick succession of people which we perceive passing through it.
JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, Fleet-street has a very animated appearance; but I
think the full tide of human existence is at Charing-cross[995].'
He made the common remark on the unhappiness which men who have led a
busy life experience, when they retire in expectation of enjoying
themselves at ease, and that they generally languish for want of their
habitual occupation, and wish to return to it. He mentioned as strong an
instance of this as can well be imagined. 'An eminent tallow-chandler in
London, who had acquired a considerable fortune, gave up the trade in
favour of his foreman, and went to live at a country-house near town. He
soon grew weary, and paid frequent visits to his old shop, where he
desired they might let him know their _melting-days_, and he would come
and assist them; which he accordingly did. Here, Sir, was a man, to whom
the most disgusting circumstance in the business to which he had been
used was a relief from idleness[996].'
On Wednesday, April 5, I dined with him at Messieurs Dilly's, with Mr.
John Scott of Amwell[997], the Quaker, Mr. Langton, Mr. Miller, (now Sir
John,) and Dr. Thomas Campbell[998], an Irish Clergyman, whom I took the
liberty of inviting to Mr. Billy's table, having seen him at Mr.
Thrale's, and been told that he had come to England chiefly with a view
to see Dr. Johnson, for whom he entertained the highest veneration. He
has since published _A Philosophical Survey of the South of Ireland_, a
very entertaining book, which has, however, one fault;--that it assumes
the fictitious character of an Englishman.
We talked of publick speaking.--JOHNSON. 'We must not estimate a man's
powers by his being able or not able to deliver his sentiments in
publick. Isaac Hawkins Browne[999], one of the first wits of this country,
got into Parliament, and never opened his mouth. For my own part, I
think it is more disgraceful never to try to speak, than to try it and
fail; as it is more disgraceful not to fight, than to fight and be
beaten.' This argument appeared to me fallacious; for if a man has not
spoken, it may be said that he would have done very well if he had
tried; whereas, if he has tried and failed, there is nothing to be said
for him. 'Why then, (I asked,) is it thought disgraceful for a man not
to fight, and not disgraceful not to speak in publick?' JOHNSON.
'Because there may be other reasons for a man's not speaking in publick
than want of resolution: he may have nothing to say, (laughing.)
Whereas, Sir, you know courage is reckoned the greatest of all virtues;
because, unless a man has that virtue, he has no security for preserving
any other.'
He observed, that 'the statutes against bribery were intended to prevent
upstarts with money from getting into Parliament[1000];' adding, that 'if
he were a gentleman of landed property, he would turn out all his
tenants who did not vote for the candidate whom he supported[1001].'
LANGTON. 'Would not that, Sir, be checking the freedom of election?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, the law does not mean that the privilege of voting should
be independent of old family interest; of the permanent property of the
country.'
On Thursday, April 6, I dined with him at Mr. Thomas Davies's, with Mr.
Hicky[1002], the painter, and my old acquaintance Mr. Moody, the player.
Dr. Johnson, as usual, spoke contemptuously of Colley Cibber. 'It is
wonderful that a man, who for forty years had lived with the great and
the witty, should have acquired so ill the talents of conversation: and
he had but half to furnish; for one half of what he said was oaths[1003].'
He, however, allowed considerable merit to some of his comedies, and
said there was no reason to believe that the _Careless Husband_ was not
written by himself[1004]. Davies said, he was the first dramatick writer
who introduced genteel ladies upon the stage. Johnson refuted this
observation by instancing several such characters in comedies before his
time. DAVIES (trying to defend himself from a charge of ignorance,) 'I
mean genteel moral characters.' 'I think (said Hicky,) gentility and
morality are inseparable.' BOSWELL. 'By no means, Sir. The genteelest
characters are often the most immoral. Does not Lord Chesterfield give
precepts for uniting wickedness and the graces? A man, indeed, is not
genteel when he gets drunk; but most vices may be committed very
genteelly: a man may debauch his friend's wife genteely: he may cheat at
cards genteelly.' HICKY. 'I do not think _that_ is genteel.' BOSWELL.
'Sir, it may not be like a gentleman, but it may be genteel.' JOHNSON.
'You are meaning two different things. One means exteriour grace; the
other honour. It is certain that a man may be very immoral with
exteriour grace. Lovelace, in _Clarissa_, is a very genteel and a very
wicked character. Tom Hervey[1005], who died t'other day, though a vicious
man, was one of the genteelest men that ever lived.' Tom Davies
instanced Charles the Second. JOHNSON, (taking fire at any attack upon
that Prince, for whom he had an extraordinary partiality[1006],) 'Charles
the Second was licentious in his practice; but he always had a reverence
for what was good. Charles the Second knew his people, and rewarded
merit[1007]. The Church was at no time better filled than in his reign. He
was the best King we have had from his time till the reign of his
present Majesty, except James the Second, who was a very good King, but
unhappily believed that it was necessary for the salvation of his
subjects that they should be Roman Catholicks. _He_ had the merit of
endeavouring to do what he thought was for the salvation of the souls of
his subjects, till he lost a great Empire. _We_, who thought that we
should _not_ be saved if we were Roman Catholicks, had the merit of
maintaining our religion, at the experience of submitting ourselves to
the government of King William[1008], (for it could not be done
otherwise,)--to the government of one of the most worthless scoundrels
that ever existed. No; Charles the Second was not such a man as ----,
(naming another King). He did not destroy his father's will[1009]. He took
money, indeed, from France: but he did not betray those over whom he
ruled[1010]: He did not let the French fleet pass ours. George the First
knew nothing, and desired to know nothing; did nothing, and desired to
do nothing: and the only good thing that is told of him is, that he
wished to restore the crown to its hereditary successor[1011].' He roared
with prodigious violence against George the Second. When he ceased,
Moody interjected, in an Irish tone, and with a comick look, 'Ah! poor
George the Second.'
I mentioned that Dr. Thomas Campbell had come from Ireland to London,
principally to see Dr. Johnson. He seemed angry at this observation.
DAVIES. 'Why, you know, Sir, there came a man from Spain to see Livy[1012];
and Corelli came to England to see Purcell[1013], and when he heard he was
dead, went directly back again to Italy.' JOHNSON. 'I should not have
wished to be dead to disappoint Campbell, had he been so foolish as you
represent him; but I should have wished to have been a hundred miles
off.' This was apparently perverse; and I do believe it was not his real
way of thinking: he could not but like a man who came so far to see him.
He laughed with some complacency, when I told him Campbell's odd
expression to me concerning him: 'That having seen such a man, was a
thing to talk of a century hence,'--as if he could live so long[1014].
We got into an argument whether the Judges who went to India might with
propriety engage in trade. Johnson warmly maintained that they might.
'For why (he urged) should not Judges get riches, as well as those who
deserve them less?' I said, they should have sufficient salaries, and
have nothing to take off their attention from the affairs of the
publick. JOHNSON. 'No Judge, Sir, can give his whole attention to his
office; and it is very proper that he should employ what time he has to
himself, to his own advantage, in the most profitable manner.' 'Then,
Sir, (said Davies, who enlivened the dispute by making it somewhat
dramatick,) he may become an insurer; and when he is going to the bench,
he may be stopped,--"Your Lordship cannot go yet: here is a bunch of
invoices: several ships are about to sail."' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you may as
well say a Judge should not have a house; for they may come and tell
him, "Your Lordship's house is on fire;" and so, instead of minding the
business of his Court, he is to be occupied in getting the engine with
the greatest speed. There is no end of this. Every Judge who has land,
trades to a certain extent in corn or in cattle; and in the land itself,
undoubtedly. His steward acts for him, and so do clerks for a great
merchant. A Judge may be a farmer; but he is not to geld his own
pigs[1015]. A Judge may play a little at cards for his amusement; but he is
not to play at marbles, or at chuck-farthing in the Piazza. No, Sir;
there is no profession to which a man gives a very great proportion of
his time. It is wonderful, when a calculation is made, how little the
mind is actually employed in the discharge of any profession. No man
would be a Judge, upon the condition of being totally a Judge. The best
employed lawyer has his mind at work but for a small proportion of his
time: a great deal of his occupation is merely mechanical[1016]. I once
wrote for a magazine: I made a calculation, that if I should write but a
page a day, at the same rate, I should, in ten years, write nine volumes
in folio, of an ordinary size and print.' BOSWELL. 'Such as Carte's
_History_?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir. When a man writes from his own mind, he
writes very rapidly[1017]. The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in
reading, in order to write: a man will turn over half a library to make
one book.'
I argued warmly against the Judges trading, and mentioned Hale as an
instance of a perfect Judge, who devoted himself entirely to his office.
JOHNSON. 'Hale, Sir, attended to other things besides law: he left a
great estate.' BOSWELL. 'That was, because what he got, accumulated
without any exertion and anxiety on his part.'
While the dispute went on, Moody once tried to say something upon our
side. Tom Davies clapped him on the back, to encourage him. Beauclerk,
to whom I mentioned this circumstance, said, 'that he could not conceive
a more humiliating situation than to be clapped on the back by Tom
Davies.'
We spoke of Rolt, to whose _Dictionary of Commerce_ Dr. Johnson wrote
the Preface[1018]. JOHNSON. 'Old Gardner the bookseller employed Rolt and
Smart to write a monthly miscellany, called _The Universal Visitor_[1019].
There was a formal written contract, which Allen the printer saw.
Gardner thought as you do of the Judge. They were bound to write nothing
else; they were to have, I think, a third of the profits of this
sixpenny pamphlet; and the contract was for ninety-nine years. I wish I
had thought of giving this to Thurlow, in the cause about Literary
Property. What an excellent instance would it have been of the
oppression of booksellers towards poor authours[1020]!' (smiling)! Davies,
zealous for the honour of _the Trade_[1021], said, Gardner was not properly
a bookseller. JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir; he certainly was a bookseller. He had
served his time regularly, was a member of the Stationers' company, kept
a shop in the face of mankind, purchased copyright, and was a
_bibliopole_[1022], Sir, in every sense. I wrote for some months in _The
Universal Visitor_, for poor Smart, while he was mad, not then knowing
the terms on which he was engaged to write, and thinking I was doing him
good. I hoped his wits would soon return to him. Mine returned to me,
and I wrote in _The Universal Visitor_ no longer.'
Friday, April 7, I dined with him at a Tavern, with a numerous
company[1023]. JOHNSON. 'I have been reading Twiss's _Travels in Spain_,
which are just come out. They are as good as the first book of travels
that you will take up. They are as good as those of Keysler[1024] or
Blainville[1025]; nay, as Addison's, if you except the learning. They are
not so good as Brydone's[1026], but they are better than Pococke's[1027]. I
have not, indeed, cut the leaves yet; but I have read in them where the
pages are open, and I do not suppose that what is in the pages which are
closed is worse than what is in the open pages. It would seem (he
added,) that Addison had not acquired much Italian learning, for we do
not find it introduced into his writings[1028]. The only instance that I
recollect, is his quoting "_Stavo bene; per star meglio, sto qui_[1029]."'
I mentioned Addison's having borrowed many of his classical remarks from
Leandro Alberti[1030]. Mr. Beauclerk said, 'It was alledged that he had
borrowed also from another Italian authour.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, all who
go to look for what the Classicks have said of Italy, must find the same
passages; and I should think it would be one of the first things the
Italians would do on the revival of learning, to collect all that the
Roman authors have said of their country.'
Ossian being mentioned;--JOHNSON. 'Supposing the Irish and Erse
languages to be the same, which I do not believe[1031], yet as there is no
reason to suppose that the inhabitants of the Highlands and Hebrides
ever wrote their native language, it is not to be credited that a long
poem was preserved among them. If we had no evidence of the art of
writing being practised in one of the counties of England, we should not
believe that a long poem was preserved _there_, though in the
neighbouring counties, where the same language was spoken, the
inhabitants could write.' BEAUCLERK. 'The ballad of _Lilliburlero_ was
once in the mouths of all the people of this country, and is said to
have had a great effect in bringing about the Revolution[1032]. Yet I
question whether any body can repeat it now; which shews how improbable
it is that much poetry should be preserved by tradition.'
One of the company suggested an internal objection to the antiquity of
the poetry said to be Ossian's, that we do not find the wolf in it,
which must have been the case had it been of that age.
The mention of the wolf had led Johnson to think of other wild beasts;
and while Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Langton were carrying on a
dialogue about something which engaged them earnestly, he, in the midst
of it, broke out, 'Pennant tells of Bears--'[what he added, I have
forgotten.] They went on, which he being dull of hearing, did not
perceive, or, if he did, was not willing to break off his talk; so he
continued to vociferate his remarks, and _Bear_ ('like a word in a
catch' as Beauclerk said,) was repeatedly heard at intervals, which
coming from him who, by those who did not know him, had been so often
assimilated to that ferocious animal[1033], while we who were sitting
around could hardly stifle laughter, produced a very ludicrous effect.
Silence having ensued, he proceeded: 'We are told, that the black bear
is innocent; but I should not like to trust myself with him.' Mr. Gibbon
muttered, in a low tone of voice. 'I should not like to trust myself
with _you_.' This piece of sarcastick pleasantry was a prudent
resolution, if applied to a competition of abilities[1034].
Patriotism having become one of our topicks, Johnson suddenly uttered,
in a strong determined tone, an apophthegm, at which many will start:
'Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel[1035].' But let it be
considered, that he did not mean a real and generous love of our
country, but that pretended patriotism which so many, in all ages and
countries, have made a cloak for self-interest. I maintain, that
certainly all patriots were not scoundrels. Being urged, (not by
Johnson) to name one exception, I mentioned an eminent person[1036], whom
we all greatly admired. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I do not say that he is _not_
honest; but we have no reason to conclude from his political conduct
that he _is_ honest. Were he to accept of a place from this ministry, he
would lose that character of firmness which he has, and might be turned
out of his place in a year. This ministry is neither stable[1037], nor
grateful to their friends, as Sir Robert Walpole was, so that he may
think it more for his interest to take his chance of his party coming
in.'
Mrs. Prichard being mentioned, he said, 'Her playing was quite
mechanical. It is wonderful how little mind she had. Sir, she had never
read the tragedy of _Macbeth_ all through. She no more thought of the
play out of which her part was taken, than a shoemaker thinks of the
skin, out of which the piece of leather, of which he is making a pair of
shoes, is cut[1038].'
On Saturday, May 8[1039], I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, where we met
the Irish Dr. Campbell[1040]. Johnson had supped the night before at Mrs.
Abington's, with some fashionable people whom he named; and he seemed
much pleased with having made one in so elegant a circle. Nor did he
omit to pique his _mistress_[1041] a little with jealousy of her
housewifery; for he said, (with a smile,) 'Mrs. Abington's jelly, my
dear Lady, was better than yours.'
Mrs. Thrale, who frequently practised a coarse mode of flattery, by
repeating his _bon-mots_ in his hearing[1042], told us that he had said, a
certain celebrated actor was just fit to stand at the door of an
auction-room with a long pole, and cry 'Pray gentlemen, walk in;' and
that a certain authour, upon hearing this, had said, that another still
more celebrated actor was fit for nothing better than that, and would
pick your pocket after you came out[1043]. JOHNSON. 'Nay, my dear lady,
there is no wit in what our friend added; there is only abuse. You may
as well say of any man that he will pick a pocket. Besides, the man who
is stationed at the door does not pick people's pockets; that is done
within, by the auctioneer.'
Mrs. Thrale told us, that Tom Davies repeated, in a very bald manner,
the story of Dr. Johnson's first repartee to me, which I have related
exactly[1044]. He made me say, 'I was _born_ in Scotland,' instead of 'I
_come from_ Scotland;' so that Johnson saying, 'That, Sir, is what a
great many of your countrymen cannot help,' had no point, or even
meaning: and that upon this being mentioned to Mr. Fitzherbert, he
observed, 'It is not every man that can _carry_ a _bon mot_.'
On Monday, April 10, I dined with him at General Oglethorpe's, with Mr.
Langton and the Irish Dr. Campbell, whom the General had obligingly
given me leave to bring with me. This learned gentleman was thus
gratified with a very high intellectual feast, by not only being in
company with Dr. Johnson, but with General Oglethorpe, who had been so
long a celebrated name both at home and abroad[1045].
I must, again and again, intreat of my readers not to suppose that my
imperfect record of conversation contains the whole of what was said by
Johnson, or other eminent persons who lived with him. What I have
preserved, however, has the value of the most perfect authenticity.
He this day enlarged upon Pope's melancholy remark,
'Man never _is_, but always _to be_ blest[1046].'
He asserted that _the present_ was never a happy state to any human
being; but that, as every part of life, of which we are conscious, was
at some point of time a period yet to come, in which felicity was
expected, there was some happiness produced by hope[1047]. Being pressed
upon this subject, and asked if he really was of opinion, that though,
in general, happiness was very rare in human life, a man was not
sometimes happy in the moment that was present, he answered, 'Never, but
when he is drunk[1048].'
He urged General Oglethorpe to give the world his Life. He said, 'I know
no man whose Life would be more interesting. If I were furnished with
materials, I should be very glad to write it[1049].'
Mr. Scott[1050] of Amwell's _Elegies_ were lying in the room. Dr. Johnson
observed, 'They are very well; but such as twenty people might write.'
Upon this I took occasion to controvert Horace's maxim,
'--mediocribus esse poetis
Non Di, non homines, non concessA(C)re columnA|.[1051]'
For here, (I observed,) was a very middle-rate poet, who pleased many
readers, and therefore poetry of a middle sort was entitled to some
esteem; nor could I see why poetry should not, like every thing else,
have different gradations of excellence, and consequently of value.
Johnson repeated the common remark, that, 'as there is no necessity for
our having poetry at all, it being merely a luxury, an instrument of
pleasure, it can have no value, unless when exquisite in its kind.' I
declared myself not satisfied. 'Why then, Sir, (said he,) Horace and you
must settle it.' He was not much in the humour of talking.
No more of his conversation for some days appears in my journal[1052],
except that when a gentleman told him he had bought a suit of lace for
his lady, he said, 'Well, Sir, you have done a good thing and a wise
thing.' 'I have done a good thing, (said the gentleman,) but I do not
know that I have done a wise thing.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; no money is
better spent than what is laid out for domestick satisfaction. A man is
pleased that his wife is drest as well as other people; and a wife is
pleased that she is drest.'
On Friday, April 14, being Good-Friday, I repaired to him in the
morning, according to my usual custom on that day, and breakfasted with
him. I observed that he fasted so very strictly[1053], that he did not even
taste bread, and took no milk with his tea; I suppose because it is a
kind of animal food.
He entered upon the state of the nation, and thus discoursed: 'Sir, the
great misfortune now is, that government has too little power. All that
it has to bestow must of necessity be given to support itself; so that
it cannot reward merit. No man, for instance, can now be made a Bishop
for his learning and piety[1054]; his only chance for promotion is his
being connected with somebody who has parliamentary interest. Our
several ministries in this reign have outbid each other in concessions
to the people. Lord Bute, though a very honourable man,--a man who meant
well,--a man who had his blood full of prerogative,--was a theoretical
statesman,--a book-minister[1055],--and thought this country could be
governed by the influence of the Crown alone. Then, Sir, he gave up a
great deal. He advised the King to agree that the Judges should hold
their places for life, instead of losing them at the accession of a new
King. Lord Bute, I suppose, thought to make the King popular by this
concession; but the people never minded it; and it was a most impolitick
measure. There is no reason why a Judge should hold his office for life,
more than any other person in publick trust. A Judge may be partial
otherwise than to the Crown: we have seen Judges partial to the
populace[1056]. A Judge may become corrupt, and yet there may not be legal
evidence against him. A Judge may become froward from age. A Judge may
grow unfit for his office in many ways. It was desirable that there
should be a possibility of being delivered from him by a new King. That
is now gone by an act of Parliament _ex gratiAc_ of the Crown[1057]. Lord
Bute advised the King to give up a very large sum of money[1058], for which
nobody thanked him. It was of consequence to the King, but nothing to
the publick, among whom it was divided. When I say Lord Bute advised, I
mean, that such acts were done when he was minister, and we are to
suppose that he advised them.--Lord Bute shewed an undue partiality to
Scotchmen. He turned out Dr. Nichols[1059], a very eminent man, from being
physician to the King, to make room for one of his countrymen, a man
very low in his profession[1060]. He had ----[1061] and ----[1062] to go on
errands for him. He had occasion for people to go on errands for him;
but he should not have had Scotchmen; and, certainly, he should not have
suffered them to have access to him before the first people in England.'
I told him, that the admission of one of them before the first people in
England, which had given the greatest offence, was no more than what
happens at every minister's levee, where those who attend are admitted
in the order that they have come, which is better than admitting them
according to their rank; for if that were to be the rule, a man who has
waited all the morning might have the mortification to see a peer, newly
come, go in before him, and keep him waiting still. JOHNSON. 'True, Sir;
but ---- should not have come to the levee, to be in the way of people
of consequence. He saw Lord Bute at all times; and could have said what
he had to say at any time, as well as at the levee. There is now no
Prime Minister: there is only an agent for government in the House of
Commons[1063]. We are governed by the Cabinet: but there is no one head
there since Sir Robert Walpole's time.' BOSWELL. 'What then, Sir, is the
use of Parliament?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, Parliament is a larger council
to the King; and the advantage of such a council is, having a great
number of men of property concerned in the legislature, who, for their
own interest, will not consent to bad laws. And you must have observed,
Sir, that administration is feeble and timid, and cannot act with that
authority and resolution which is necessary. Were I in power, I would
turn out every man who dared to oppose me. Government has the
distribution of offices, that it may be enabled to maintain its
authority[1064].'
'Lord Bute (he added,) took down too fast, without building up something
new.' BOSWELL. 'Because, Sir, he found a rotten building. The political
coach was drawn by a set of bad horses: it was necessary to change
them.' JOHNSON. 'But he should have changed them one by one.'
I told him that I had been informed by Mr. Orme[1065], that many parts of
the East-Indies were better mapped than the Highlands of Scotland.
JOHNSON. 'That a country may be mapped, it must be travelled over.'
'Nay, (said I, meaning to laugh with him at one of his prejudices,)
can't you say, it is not _worth_ mapping?'
As we walked to St. Clement's church, and saw several shops open upon
this most solemn fast-day of the Christian world, I remarked, that one
disadvantage arising from the immensity of London, was, that nobody was
heeded by his neighbour; there was no fear of censure for not observing
Good Friday, as it ought to be kept, and as it is kept in country-towns.
He said, it was, upon the whole, very well observed even in London. He,
however, owned, that London was too large; but added, 'It is nonsense to
say the head is too big for the body. It would be as much too big,
though the body were ever so large; that is to say, though the country
were ever so extensive. It has no similarity to a head connected with a
body.'
Dr. Wetherell, Master of University College, Oxford, accompanied us home
from church; and after he was gone, there came two other gentlemen, one
of whom uttered the common-place complaints, that by the increase of
taxes, labour would be dear, other nations would undersell us, and our
commerce would be ruined. JOHNSON (smiling). 'Never fear, Sir. Our
commerce is in a very good state; and suppose we had no commerce at all,
we could live very well on the produce of our own country.' I cannot
omit to mention, that I never knew any man who was less disposed to be
querulous than Johnson. Whether the subject was his own situation, or
the state of the publick, or the state of human nature in general,
though he saw the evils, his mind was turned to resolution, and never to
whining or complaint[1066].
We went again to St. Clement's in the afternoon. He had found fault with
the preacher in the morning for not choosing a text adapted to the day.
The preacher in the afternoon had chosen one extremely proper: 'It is
finished.'
After the evening service, he said, 'Come, you shall go home with me,
and sit just an hour.' But he was better than his word; for after we had
drunk tea[1067] with Mrs. Williams, he asked me to go up to his study with
him, where we sat a long while together in a serene undisturbed frame of
mind, sometimes in silence, and sometimes conversing, as we felt
ourselves inclined, or more properly speaking, as _he_ was inclined; for
during all the course of my long intimacy with him, my respectful
attention never abated, and my wish to hear him was such, that I
constantly watched every dawning of communication from that great and
illuminated mind.
He observed, 'All knowledge is of itself of some value. There is nothing
so minute or inconsiderable, that I would not rather know it than not.
In the same manner, all power, of whatever sort, is of itself desirable.
A man would not submit to learn to hem a ruffle, of his wife, or his
wife's maid; but if a mere wish could attain it, he would rather wish to
be able to hem a ruffle.'
He again advised me to keep a journal[1068] fully and minutely, but not to
mention such trifles as, that meat was too much or too little done, or
that the weather was fair or rainy. He had, till very near his death, a
contempt for the notion that the weather affects the human frame[1069].
I told him that our friend Goldsmith had said to me, that he had come
too late into the world, for that Pope and other poets had taken up the
places in the Temple of Fame; so that, as but a few at any period can
possess poetical reputation, a man of genius can now hardly acquire it.
JOHNSON. 'That is one of the most sensible things I have ever heard of
Goldsmith[1070]. It is difficult to get literary fame, and it is every day
growing more difficult. Ah, Sir, that should make a man think of
securing happiness in another world, which all who try sincerely for it
may attain. In comparison of that, how little are all other things! The
belief of immortality is impressed upon all men, and all men act under
an impression of it, however they may talk, and though, perhaps, they
may be scarcely sensible of it.' I said, it appeared to me that some
people had not the least notion of immortality; and I mentioned a
distinguished gentleman of our acquaintance. JOHNSON. 'Sir, if it were
not for the notion of immortality, he would cut a throat to fill his
pockets.' When I quoted this to Beauclerk, who knew much more of the
gentleman than we did, he said, in his acid manner, 'He would cut a
throat to fill his pockets, if it were not for fear of being hanged.'
Dr. Johnson proceeded: 'Sir, there is a great cry about infidelity[1071];
but there are, in reality, very few infidels. I have heard a person,
originally a Quaker, but now, I am afraid, a Deist, say, that he did not
believe there were, in all England, above two hundred infidels.'
He was pleased to say, 'If you come to settle here, we will have one day
in the week on which we will meet by ourselves. That is the happiest
conversation where there is no competition, no vanity, but a calm quiet
interchange of sentiments[1072].' In his private register this evening is
thus marked, 'Boswell sat with me till night; we had some serious
talk[1073].' It also appears from the same record, that after I left him he
was occupied in religious duties, in 'giving Francis, his servant, some
directions for preparation to communicate; in reviewing his life, and
resolving on better conduct[1074].' The humility and piety which he
discovers on such occasions, is truely edifying. No saint, however, in
the course of his religious warfare, was more sensible of the unhappy
failure of pious resolves, than Johnson. He said one day, talking to an
acquaintance on this subject, 'Sir, Hell is paved with good
intentions[1075].'
On Sunday, April 16, being Easter Day, after having attended the solemn
service at St. Paul's[1076], I dined with Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Williams. I
maintained that Horace was wrong in placing happiness in _Nil
admirari_[1077], for that I thought admiration one of the most agreeable of
all our feelings[1078]; and I regretted that I had lost much of my
disposition to admire, which people generally do as they advance in
life. JOHNSON. 'Sir, as a man advances in life, he gets what is better
than admiration--judgement, to estimate things at their true value.' I
still insisted that admiration was more pleasing than judgement, as love
is more pleasing than friendship. The feeling of friendship is like that
of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love, like being enlivened
with champagne. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; admiration and love are like being
intoxicated with champagne; judgement and friendship like being
enlivened. Waller has hit upon the same thought with you[1079]: but I don't
believe you have borrowed from Waller. I wish you would enable yourself
to borrow more[1080].'
He then took occasion to enlarge on the advantages of reading, and
combated the idle superficial notion, that knowledge enough may be
acquired in conversation. 'The foundation (said he,) must be laid by
reading. General principles must be had from books, which, however, must
be brought to the test of real life. In conversation you never get a
system. What is said upon a subject is to be gathered from a hundred
people. The parts of a truth, which a man gets thus, are at such a
distance from each other that he never attains to a full view.'
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I have enquired more minutely about the medicine for the rheumatism,
which I am sorry to hear that you still want. The receipt is this:
'Take equal quantities of flour of sulphur, and _flour_ of mustard-seed,
make them an electuary with honey or treacle; and take a bolus as big as
a nutmeg several times a day, as you can bear it: drinking after it a
quarter of a pint of the infusion of the root of Lovage.
'Lovage, in Ray's _Nomenclature_, is Levisticum: perhaps the Botanists
may know the Latin name.
'Of this medicine I pretend not to judge. There is all the appearance of
its efficacy, which a single instance can afford: the patient was very
old, the pain very violent, and the relief, I think, speedy and lasting.
'My opinion of alterative medicine is not high, but _quid tentasse
nocebit_? if it does harm, or does no good, it may be omitted; but that
it may do good, you have, I hope, reason to think is desired by,
'Sir, your most affectionate,
Humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON.'
'April 17, 1775.'
On Tuesday, April 18, he and I were engaged to go with Sir Joshua
Reynolds to dine with Mr. Cambridge[1081], at his beautiful villa on the
banks of the Thames, near Twickenham. Dr. Johnson's tardiness was such,
that Sir Joshua, who had an appointment at Richmond, early in the day,
was obliged to go by himself on horseback, leaving his coach to Johnson
and me. Johnson was in such good spirits, that every thing seemed to
please him as we drove along.
Our conversation turned on a variety of subjects. He thought
portrait-painting an improper employment for a woman[1082]. 'Publick
practice of any art, (he observed,) and staring in men's faces, is very
indelicate in a female.' I happened to start a question, whether, when a
man knows that some of his intimate friends are invited to the house of
another friend, with whom they are all equally intimate, he may join
them without an invitation. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; he is not to go when he
is not invited. They may be invited on purpose to abuse him' (smiling).
As a curious instance how little a man knows, or wishes to know, his own
character in the world, or, rather, as a convincing proof that Johnson's
roughness was only external, and did not proceed from his heart, I
insert the following dialogue. JOHNSON. 'It is wonderful, Sir, how rare
a quality good humour is in life. We meet with very few good humoured
men.' I mentioned four of our friends[1083], none of whom he would allow to
be good humoured. One was _acid_, another was _muddy_[1084], and to the
others he had objections which have escaped me. Then, shaking his head
and stretching himself at ease in the coach, and smiling with much
complacency, he turned to me and said, 'I look upon _myself_ as a good
humoured fellow.' The epithet _fellow_, applied to the great
Lexicographer, the stately Moralist, the masterly Critick, as if he had
been Sam Johnson, a mere pleasant companion, was highly diverting; and
this light notion of himself struck me with wonder. I answered, also
smiling, 'No, no, Sir; that will _not_ do. You are good natured, but not
good humoured[1085]: you are irascible. You have not patience with folly
and absurdity. I believe you would pardon them, if there were time to
deprecate your vengeance; but punishment follows so quick after
sentence, that they cannot escape.'
I had brought with me a great bundle of Scotch magazines and
news-papers, in which his _Journey to the Western Islands_ was attacked
in every mode; and I read a great part of them to him, knowing they
would afford him entertainment. I wish the writers of them had been
present: they would have been sufficiently vexed. One ludicrous
imitation of his style, by Mr. Maclaurin[1086], now one of the Scotch
Judges, with the title of Lord Dreghorn, was distinguished by him from
the rude mass. 'This (said he,) is the best. But I could caricature my
own style much better myself.' He defended his remark upon the general
insufficiency of education in Scotland; and confirmed to me the
authenticity of his witty saying on the learning of the Scotch;--'Their
learning is like bread in a besieged town: every man gets a little, but
no man gets a full meal[1087].' 'There is (said he,) in Scotland, a
diffusion of learning, a certain portion of it widely and thinly spread.
A merchant there has as much learning as one of their clergy[1088].'
He talked of Isaac Walton's _Lives_, which was one of his most favourite
books. Dr. Donne's _Life_, he said, was the most perfect of them. He
observed, that 'it was wonderful that Walton, who was in a very low
situation in life, should have been familiarly received by so many great
men, and that at a time when the ranks of society were kept more
separate than they are now.' He supposed that Walton had then given up
his business as a linen draper and sempster, and was only an authour[1089];
and added, 'that he was a great panegyrist.' BOSWELL. 'No quality will
get a man more friends than a disposition to admire the qualities of
others. I do not mean flattery, but a sincere admiration.' JOHNSON.
'Nay, Sir, flattery pleases very generally[1090]. In the first place, the
flatterer may think what he says to be true: but, in the second place,
whether he thinks so or not, he certainly thinks those whom he flatters
of consequence enough to be flattered.'
No sooner had we made our bow to Mr. Cambridge, in his library, than
Johnson ran eagerly to one side of the room, intent on poring over the
backs of the books[1091]. Sir Joshua observed, (aside,) 'He runs to the
books, as I do to the pictures: but I have the advantage. I can see much
more of the pictures than he can of the books.' Mr. Cambridge, upon
this, politely said, 'Dr. Johnson, I am going, with your pardon, to
accuse myself, for I have the same custom which I perceive you have. But
it seems odd that one should have such a desire to look at the backs of
books.' Johnson, ever ready for contest, instantly started from his
reverie, wheeled about, and answered, 'Sir, the reason is very plain.
Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where
we can find information upon it. When we enquire into any subject, the
first thing we have to do is to know what books have treated of it. This
leads us to look at catalogues, and the backs of books in libraries.'
Sir Joshua observed to me the extraordinary promptitude with which
Johnson flew upon an argument. 'Yes, (said I,) he has no formal
preparation, no flourishing with his sword; he is through your body in
an instant[1092].'
Johnson was here solaced with an elegant entertainment, a very
accomplished family, and much good company; among whom was Mr. Harris[1093]
of Salisbury, who paid him many compliments on his _Journey to the
Western Islands_.
The common remark as to the utility of reading history being made;--
JOHNSON. 'We must consider how very little history there is; I mean real
authentick history. That certain Kings reigned, and certain battles were
fought, we can depend upon as true; but all the colouring, all the
philosophy of history is conjecture[1094].' BOSWELL. 'Then, Sir, you would
reduce all history to no better than an almanack[1095], a mere
chronological series of remarkable events.' Mr. Gibbon, who must at that
time have been employed upon his _History_[1096], of which he published the
first volume in the following year, was present; but did not step forth
in defence of that species of writing. He probably did not like to trust
himself with JOHNSON[1097]!
Johnson observed, that the force of our early habits was so great, that
though reason approved, nay, though our senses relished a different
course, almost every man returned to them. I do not believe there is any
observation upon human nature better founded than this; and, in many
cases, it is a very painful truth; for where early habits have been mean
and wretched, the joy and elevation resulting from better modes of life
must be damped by the gloomy consciousness of being under an almost
inevitable doom to sink back into a situation which we recollect with
disgust. It surely may be prevented, by constant attention and
unremitting exertion to establish contrary habits of superiour efficacy.
_The Beggar's Opera_, and the common question, whether it was pernicious
in its effects, having been introduced;--JOHNSON. 'As to this matter,
which has been very much contested, I myself am of opinion, that more
influence has been ascribed to _The Beggar's Opera_, than it in reality
ever had; for I do not believe that any man was ever made a rogue by
being present at its representation. At the same time I do not deny that
it may have some influence, by making the character of a rogue familiar,
and in some degree pleasing[1098].' Then collecting himself as it were, to
give a heavy stroke: 'There is in it such a _labefactation_ of all
principles, as may be injurious to morality.'
While he pronounced this response, we sat in a comical sort of
restraint, smothering a laugh, which we were afraid might burst out. In
his _Life of Gay_, he has been still more decisive as to the
inefficiency of _The Beggar's Opera_ in corrupting society[1099]. But I
have ever thought somewhat differently; for, indeed, not only are the
gaiety and heroism of a highwayman very captivating to a youthful
imagination, but the arguments for adventurous depredation are so
plausible, the allusions so lively, and the contrasts with the ordinary
and more painful modes of acquiring property are so artfully displayed,
that it requires a cool and strong judgement to resist so imposing an
aggregate: yet, I own, I should be very sorry to have _The Beggar's
Opera_ suppressed; for there is in it so much of real London life, so
much brilliant wit, and such a variety of airs, which, from early
association of ideas, engage, soothe, and enliven the mind, that no
performance which the theatre exhibits, delights me more.
The late '_worthy_' Duke of Queensberry[1100], as Thomson, in his
_Seasons_, justly characterises him, told me, that when Gay first shewed
him _The Beggar's Opera_, his Grace's observation was, 'This is a very
odd thing, Gay; I am satisfied that it is either a very good thing, or a
very bad thing.' It proved the former, beyond the warmest expectations
of the authour or his friends, Mr. Cambridge, however, shewed us to-day,
that there was good reason enough to doubt concerning its success. He
was told by Quin, that during the first night of its appearance it was
long in a very dubious state; that there was a disposition to damn it,
and that it was saved by the song[1101],
'Oh ponder well! be not severe!'
the audience being much affected by the innocent looks of Polly, when
she came to those two lines, which exhibit at once a painful and
ridiculous image,
'For on the rope that hangs my Dear,
Depends poor Polly's life.'
Quin himself had so bad an opinion of it, that he refused the part of
Captain Macheath, and gave it to Walker[1102], who acquired great celebrity
by his grave yet animated performance of it[1103].
We talked of a young gentleman's marriage with an eminent singer[1104], and
his determination that she should no longer sing in publick, though his
father was very earnest she should, because her talents would be
liberally rewarded, so as to make her a good fortune. It was questioned
whether the young gentleman, who had not a shilling in the world[1105], but
was blest with very uncommon talents, was not foolishly delicate, or
foolishly proud, and his father truely rational without being mean.
Johnson, with all the high spirit of a Roman senator, exclaimed, 'He
resolved wisely and nobly to be sure. He is a brave man. Would not a
gentleman be disgraced by having his wife singing publickly for hire?
No, Sir, there can be no doubt here. I know not if I should not
_prepare_ myself for a publick singer, as readily as let my wife be
one.'
Johnson arraigned the modern politicks of this country, as entirely
devoid of all principle of whatever kind. 'Politicks (said he) are now
nothing more than means of rising in the world. With this sole view do
men engage in politicks, and their whole conduct proceeds upon it. How
different in that respect is the state of the nation now from what it
was in the time of Charles the First, during the Usurpation, and after
the Restoration, in the time of Charles the Second. _Hudibras_ affords a
strong proof how much hold political principles had then upon the minds
of men. There is in _Hudibras_ a great deal of bullion which will always
last. But to be sure the brightest strokes of his wit owed their force
to the impression of the characters, which was upon men's minds at the
time; to their knowing them, at table and in the street; in short, being
familiar with them; and above all, to his satire being directed against
those whom a little while before they had hated and feared[1106]. The
nation in general has ever been loyal, has been at all times attached to
the monarch, though a few daring rebels have been wonderfully powerful
for a time. The murder of Charles the First was undoubtedly not
committed with the approbation or consent of the people. Had that been
the case, Parliament would not have ventured to consign the regicides to
their deserved punishment. And we know what exuberance of joy there was
when Charles the Second was restored. If Charles the Second had bent all
his mind to it, had made it his sole object, he might have been as
absolute as Louis the Fourteenth.' A gentleman observed he would have
done no harm if he had. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, absolute princes seldom do
any harm. But they who are governed by them are governed by chance.
There is no security for good government.' CAMBRIDGE. 'There have been
many sad victims to absolute government.' JOHNSON. 'So, Sir, have there
been to popular factions.' BOSWELL. 'The question is, which is worst,
one wild beast or many?'
Johnson praised _The Spectator_, particularly the character of Sir Roger
de Coverley. He said, 'Sir Roger did not die a violent death, as has
been generally fancied. He was not killed; he died only because others
were to die, and because his death afforded an opportunity to Addison
for some very fine writing. We have the example of Cervantes making Don
Quixote die[1107].--I never could see why Sir Roger is represented as a
little cracked. It appears to me that the story of the widow was
intended to have something superinduced upon it: but the superstructure
did not come[1108].'
Somebody found fault with writing verses in a dead language, maintaining
that they were merely arrangements of so many words, and laughed at the
Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, for sending forth collections of
them not only in Greek and Latin, but even in Syriac, Arabick, and other
more unknown tongues. JOHNSON. 'I would have as many of these as
possible; I would have verses in every language that there are the means
of acquiring. Nobody imagines that an University is to have at once two
hundred poets; but it should be able to show two hundred scholars.
Pieresc's[1109] death was lamented, I think, in forty languages. And I
would have had at every coronation, and every death of a King, every
_Gaudium_, and every _Luctus_, University-verses, in as many languages
as can be acquired. I would have the world to be thus told, "Here is a
school where every thing may be learnt."'
Having set out next day on a visit to the Earl of Pembroke, at
Wilton[1110], and to my friend, Mr. Temple[1111], at Mamhead, in
Devonshire, and not having returned to town till the second of May, I
did not see Dr. Johnson for a considerable time, and during the remaining
part of my stay in London, kept very imperfect notes of his conversation,
which had I according to my usual custom written out at large soon after
the time, much might have been preserved, which is now irretrievably lost.
I can now only record some particular scenes, and a few fragments of his
_memorabilia_. But to make some amends for my relaxation of diligence in
one respect, I have to present my readers with arguments upon two law
cases, with which he favoured me.
On Saturday, the sixth of May, we dined by ourselves at the Mitre, and
he dictated to me what follows, to obviate the complaint already
mentioned[1112], which had been made in the form of an action in the Court
of Session, by Dr. Memis, of Aberdeen, that in the same translation of a
charter in which _physicians_ were mentioned, he was called _Doctor of
Medicine_.
'There are but two reasons for which a physician can decline the title
of _Doctor of Medicine_, because he supposes himself disgraced by the
doctorship, or supposes the doctorship disgraced by himself. To be
disgraced by a title which he shares in common with every illustrious
name of his profession, with Boerhaave, with Arbuthnot, and with Cullen,
can surely diminish no man's reputation. It is, I suppose, to the
doctorate, from which he shrinks, that he owes his right of practising
physick. A doctor of Medicine is a physician under the protection of the
laws, and by the stamp of authority. The physician, who is not a Doctor,
usurps a profession, and is authorised only by himself to decide upon
health and sickness, and life and death. That this gentleman is a
Doctor, his diploma makes evident; a diploma not obtruded upon him, but
obtained by solicitation, and for which fees were paid. With what
countenance any man can refuse the title which he has either begged or
bought, is not easily discovered.
'All verbal injury must comprise in it either some false position, or
some unnecessary declaration of defamatory truth. That in calling him
Doctor, a false appellation was given him, he himself will not pretend,
who at the same time that he complains of the title, would be offended
if we supposed him to be not a Doctor. If the title of Doctor be a
defamatory truth, it is time to dissolve our colleges; for why should
the publick give salaries to men whose approbation is reproach? It may
likewise deserve the notice of the publick to consider what help can be
given to the professors of physick, who all share with this unhappy
gentleman the ignominious appellation, and of whom the very boys in the
street are not afraid to say, _There goes the Doctor_.
'What is implied by the term Doctor is well known. It distinguishes him
to whom it is granted, as a man who has attained such knowledge of his
profession as qualifies him to instruct others. A Doctor of Laws is a
man who can form lawyers by his precepts. A Doctor of Medicine is a man
who can teach the art of curing diseases. There is an old axiom which no
man has yet thought fit to deny, _Nil dat quod non habet_. Upon this
principle to be Doctor implies skill, for _nemo docet quod non didicit_.
In England, whoever practises physick, not being a Doctor, must practise
by a licence: but the doctorate conveys a licence in itself.
'By what accident it happened that he and the other physicians were
mentioned in different terms, where the terms themselves were
equivalent, or where in effect that which was applied to him was the
most honourable, perhaps they who wrote the paper cannot now remember.
Had they expected a lawsuit to have been the consequence of such petty
variation, I hope they would have avoided it[1113]. But, probably, as they
meant no ill, they suspected no danger, and, therefore, consulted only
what appeared to them propriety or convenience.'
A few days afterwards I consulted him upon a cause, _Paterson and
others_ against _Alexander and others_, which had been decided by a
casting vote in the Court of Session, determining that the Corporation
of Stirling was corrupt, and setting aside the election of some of their
officers, because it was proved that three of the leading men who
influenced the majority had entered into an unjustifiable compact, of
which, however, the majority were ignorant. He dictated to me, after a
little consideration, the following sentences upon the subject:--
'There is a difference between majority and superiority; majority is
applied to number, and superiority to power; and power, like many other
things, is to be estimated _non numero sed pondere_. Now though the
greater _number_ is not corrupt, the greater _weight_ is corrupt, so
that corruption predominates in the borough, taken _collectively_,
though, perhaps, taken _numerically_, the greater part may be uncorrupt.
That borough, which is so constituted as to act corruptly, is in the eye
of reason corrupt, whether it be by the uncontrolable power of a few, or
by an accidental pravity of the multitude. The objection, in which is
urged the injustice of making the innocent suffer with the guilty, is an
objection not only against society, but against the possibility of
society. All societies, great and small, subsist upon this condition;
that as the individuals derive advantages from union, they may likewise
suffer inconveniences; that as those who do nothing, and sometimes those
who do ill, will have the honours and emoluments of general virtue and
general prosperity, so those likewise who do nothing, or perhaps do
well, must be involved in the consequences of predominant corruption.'
This in my opinion was a very nice case; but the decision was affirmed
in the House of Lords.
On Monday, May 8, we went together and visited the mansions of
Bedlam[1114]. I had been informed that he had once been there before with
Mr. Wedderburne, (now Lord Loughborough,) Mr. Murphy, and Mr. Foote; and
I had heard Foote give a very entertaining account of Johnson's
happening to have his attention arrested by a man who was very furious,
and who, while beating his straw[1115], supposed it was William Duke of
Cumberland, whom he was punishing for his cruelties in Scotland, in
1746[1116]. There was nothing peculiarly remarkable this day; but the
general contemplation of insanity was very affecting. I accompanied him
home, and dined and drank tea with him.
Talking of an acquaintance of ours[1117], distinguished for knowing an
uncommon variety of miscellaneous articles both in antiquities and
polite literature, he observed, 'You know, Sir, he runs about with
little weight upon his mind.' And talking of another very ingenious
gentleman[1118], who from the warmth of his temper was at variance with
many of his acquaintance, and wished to avoid them, he said, 'Sir, he
leads the life of an outlaw.'
On Friday, May 12[1119], as he had been so good as to assign me a room in
his house, where I might sleep occasionally, when I happened to sit with
him to a late hour, I took possession of it this night, found every
thing in excellent order, and was attended by honest Francis with a most
civil assiduity. I asked Johnson whether I might go to a consultation
with another lawyer upon Sunday, as that appeared to me to be doing work
as much in my way, as if an artisan should work on the day appropriated
for religious rest. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, when you are of consequence
enough to oppose the practice of consulting upon Sunday, you should do
it: but you may go now. It is not criminal, though it is not what one
should do, who is anxious for the preservation and increase of piety, to
which a peculiar observance of Sunday is a great help. The distinction
is clear between what is of moral and what is of ritual obligation.'
On Saturday, May 13, I breakfasted with him by invitation, accompanied
by Mr. Andrew Crosbie[1120], a Scotch Advocate, whom he had seen at
Edinburgh, and the Hon. Colonel (now General) Edward Stopford, brother
to Lord Courtown, who was desirous of being introduced to him. His tea
and rolls and butter, and whole breakfast apparatus were all in such
decorum, and his behaviour was so courteous, that Colonel Stopford was
quite surprised, and wondered at his having heard so much said of
Johnson's slovenliness and roughness. I have preserved nothing of what
passed, except that Crosbie pleased him much by talking learnedly of
alchymy, as to which Johnson was not a positive unbeliever, but rather
delighted in considering what progress had actually been made in the
transmutation of metals, what near approaches there had been to the
making of gold; and told us that it was affirmed, that a person in the
Russian dominions had discovered the secret, but died without revealing
it, as imagining it would be prejudicial to society. He added, that it
was not impossible but it might in time be generally known.
It being asked whether it was reasonable for a man to be angry at
another whom a woman had preferred to him;--JOHNSON. 'I do not see, Sir,
that it is reasonable for a man to be angry at another, whom a woman has
preferred to him: but angry he is, no doubt; and he is loath to be angry
at himself.'
Before setting out for Scotland on the 23rd[1121], I was frequently in his
company at different places, but during this period have recorded only
two remarks: one concerning Garrick: 'He has not Latin enough. He finds
out the Latin by the meaning rather than the meaning by the Latin[1122].'
And another concerning writers of travels, who, he observed, 'were more
defective than any other writers[1123].'
I passed many hours with him on the 17th[1124], of which I find all my
memorial is, 'much laughing.' It should seem he had that day been in a
humour for jocularity and merriment, and upon such occasions I never
knew a man laugh more heartily. We may suppose, that the high relish of
a state so different from his habitual gloom, produced more than
ordinary exertions of that distinguishing faculty of man, which has
puzzled philosophers so much to explain[1125]. Johnson's laugh was as
remarkable as any circumstance in his manner. It was a kind of good
humoured growl. Tom Davies described it drolly enough: 'He laughs like a
rhinoceros.'
'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I have an old amanuensis[1126] in great distress. I have given what I
think I can give, and begged till I cannot tell where to beg again. I
put into his hands this morning four guineas. If you could collect three
guineas more, it would clear him from his present difficulty.
'I am, Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 21, 1775.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I make no doubt but you are now safely lodged in your own habitation,
and have told all your adventures to Mrs. Boswell and Miss Veronica.
Pray teach Veronica to love me. Bid her not mind mamma.
'Mrs. Thrale has taken cold, and been very much disordered, but I hope
is grown well. Mr. Langton went yesterday to Lincolnshire, and has
invited Nicolaida[1127] to follow him. Beauclerk talks of going to Bath. I
am to set out on Monday; so there is nothing but dispersion.
'I have returned Lord Hailes's entertaining sheets[1128], but must stay
till I come back for more, because it will be inconvenient to send them
after me in my vagrant state.
'I promised Mrs. Macaulay[1129] that I would try to serve her son at
Oxford. I have not forgotten it, nor am unwilling to perform it. If they
desire to give him an English education, it should be considered whether
they cannot send him for a year or two to an English school. If he comes
immediately from Scotland, he can make no figure in our Universities.
The schools in the north, I believe, are cheap; and, when I was a young
man, were eminently good.
'There are two little books published by the Foulis[1130], Telemachus and
Collins's _Poems_, each a shilling: I would be glad to have them.
'Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, though she does not love me. You
see what perverse things ladies are, and how little fit to be trusted
with feudal estates. When she mends and loves me, there may be more hope
of her daughters.
'I will not send compliments to my friends by name, because I would be
loath to leave any out in the enumeration. Tell them, as you see them,
how well I speak of Scotch politeness, and Scotch hospitality, and
Scotch beauty, and of every thing Scotch, but Scotch oat-cakes, and
Scotch prejudices.
'Let me know the answer of Rasay[1131], and the decision relating to Sir
Allan[1132].
'I am, my dearest Sir, with great affection,
'Your most obliged, and
'Most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 27, 1775.'
After my return to Scotland, I wrote three letters to him, from which I
extract the following passages:--
'I have seen Lord Hailes since I came down. He thinks it wonderful that
you are pleased to take so much pains in revising his _Annals_. I told
him that you said you were well rewarded by the entertainment which you
had in reading them.'
'There has been a numerous flight of Hebrideans in Edinburgh this
summer, whom I have been happy to entertain at my house. Mr. Donald
Macqueen[1133] and Lord Monboddo supped with me one evening. They joined in
controverting your proposition, that the Gaelick of the Highlands and
Isles of Scotland was not written till of late.'
'My mind has been somewhat dark this summer[1134]. I have need of your
warming and vivifying rays; and I hope I shall have them frequently. I
am going to pass some time with my father at Auchinleck.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I am returned from the annual ramble into the middle counties[1135].
Having seen nothing I had not seen before, I have nothing to relate.
Time has left that part of the island few antiquities; and commerce has
left the people no singularities. I was glad to go abroad, and, perhaps,
glad to come home; which is, in other words, I was, I am afraid, weary
of being at home, and weary of being abroad. Is not this the state of
life? But, if we confess this weariness, let us not lament it, for all
the wise and all the good say, that we may cure it.
'For the black fumes which rise in your mind, I can prescribe nothing
but that you disperse them by honest business or innocent pleasure, and
by reading, sometimes easy and sometimes serious. Change of place is
useful; and I hope that your residence at Auchinleck will have many good
effects[1136].
'That I should have given pain to Rasay, I am sincerely sorry; and am
therefore very much pleased that he is no longer uneasy. He still thinks
that I have represented him as personally giving up the Chieftainship. I
meant only that it was no longer contested between the two houses, and
supposed it settled, perhaps, by the cession of some remote generation,
in the house of Dunvegan. I am sorry the advertisement was not continued
for three or four times in the paper.
'That Lord Monboddo and Mr. Macqueen should controvert a position
contrary to the imaginary interest of literary or national prejudice,
might be easily imagined; but of a standing fact there ought to be no
controversy: If there are men with tails, catch an _homo caudatus_; if
there was writing of old in the Highlands or Hebrides, in the Erse
language, produce the manuscripts. Where men write, they will write to
one another, and some of their letters, in families studious of their
ancestry, will be kept. In Wales there are many manuscripts.
'I have now three parcels of Lord Hailes's history, which I purpose to
return all the next week: that his respect for my little observations
should keep his work in suspense, makes one of the evils of my journey.
It is in our language, I think, a new mode of history, which tells all
that is wanted, and, I suppose, all that is known, without laboured
splendour of language, or affected subtilty of conjecture. The exactness
of his dates raises my wonder. He seems to have the closeness of
Henault[1137] without his constraint.
'Mrs. Thrale was so entertained with your _Journal_[1138], that she almost
read herself blind. She has a great regard for you.
'Of Mrs. Boswell, though she knows in her heart that she does not love
me, I am always glad to hear any good, and hope that she and the little
dear ladies will have neither sickness nor any other affliction. But she
knows that she does not care what becomes of me, and for that she may be
sure that I think her very much to blame.
'Never, my dear Sir, do you take it into your head to think that I do
not love you; you may settle yourself in full confidence both of my love
and my esteem; I love you as a kind man, I value you as a worthy man,
and hope in time to reverence you as a man of exemplary piety. I hold
you, as Hamlet has it, 'in my heart of hearts[1139],' and therefore, it is
little to say, that I am, Sir,
'Your affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, Aug. 27, 1775.'