Inveraray, Oct. 29, 1773.
I am happy to insert every memorial of the honour done to my great
friend. Indeed, I was at all times desirous to preserve the letters
which he received from eminent persons, of which, as of all other
papers, he was very negligent; and I once proposed to him, that they
should be committed to my care, as his Gustos Rotulorum. I wish he had
complied with my request, as by that means many valuable writings
might have been preserved, that are now lost. [Footnote: As a
remarkable instance of his negligence, I remember some years ago to
have found lying loose in his study, and without the cover, which
contained the address, a letter to him from Lord Thurlow, to whom he
had made an application as Chancellor, in behalf of a poor literary
friend. It was expressed in such terms of respect for Dr Johnson,
that, in my zeal for his reputation, I remonstrated warmly with him on
his strange inattention, and obtained his permission to take a copy of
it; by which probably it has been preserved, as the original I have
reason to suppose is lost.]
After breakfast, Dr Johnson and I were furnished with a boat, and
sailed about upon Lochlomond, and landed on some of the islands which
are interspersed. He was much pleased with the scene, which is so well
known by the accounts of various travellers, that it is unnecessary
for me to attempt any description of it.
I recollect none of his conversation, except that, when talking of
dress, he said, 'Sir, were I to have any thing fine, it should be very
fine. Were I to wear a ring, it should not be a bauble, but a stone of
great value. Were I to wear a laced or embroidered waistcoat, it
should be very rich. I had once a very rich laced waistcoat, which I
wore the first night of my tragedy.'
Lady Helen Colquhoun being a very pious woman, the conversation, after
dinner, took a religious turn. Her ladyship defended the presbyterian
mode of publick worship; upon which Dr Johnson delivered those
excellent arguments for a form of prayer which he has introduced into
his Journey. I am myself fully convinced that a form of prayer for
publick worship is in general most decent and edifying. Solennia verba
have a kind of prescriptive sanctity, and make a deeper impression on
the mind than extemporaneous effusions, in which, as we know not what
they are to be, we cannot readily acquiesce. Yet I would allow also of
a certain portion of extempore address, as occasion may require. This
is the practice of the French Protestant churches. And although the
office of forming supplications to the throne of Heaven is, in my
mind, too great a trust to be indiscriminately committed to the
discretion of every minister, I do not mean to deny that sincere
devotion may be experienced when joining in prayer with those who use
no Liturgy.
We were favoured with Sir James Colquhoun's coach to convey us in the
evening to Cameron, the seat of Commissary Smollet. Our satisfaction
of finding ourselves again in a comfortable carriage was very great.
We had a pleasing conviction of the commodiousness of civilization,
and heartily laughed at the ravings of those absurd visionaries who
have attempted to persuade us of the superior advantages of a state of
nature.
Mr Smollet was a man of considerable learning, with abundance of
animal spirits; so that he was a very good companion for Dr Johnson,
who said to me, 'We have had more solid talk here than at any place
where we have been.'
I remember Dr Johnson gave us this evening an able and eloquent
discourse on the origin of evil, and on the consistency of moral evil
with the power and goodness of God. He shewed us how it arose from our
free agency, an extinction of which would be a still greater evil than
any we experience. I know not that he said any thing absolutely new,
but he said a great deal wonderfully well; and perceiving us to be
delighted and satisfied, he concluded his harangue with an air of
benevolent triumph over an objection which has distressed many worthy
minds: This then is the answer to the question, [words in Greek]?' Mrs
Smollet whispered me, that it was the best sermon she had ever heard.
Much do I upbraid myself for having neglected to preserve it.