'Can sins of moment claim the rod
Of everlasting fires?
And that offend great Nature's GOD,
Which Nature's self inspires[1027]?'
and that Dr. Johnson observed, 'it had been borrowed from _Guarini_.'
There are, indeed, in _Pastor Fido_, many such flimsy superficial
reasonings, as that in the last two lines of this stanza. BOSWELL. 'In
that stanza of Pope's, "_rod of fires_" is certainly a bad metaphor.'
MRS. THRALE. 'And "sins of _moment_" is a faulty expression; for its
true import is _momentous_, which cannot be intended.' JOHNSON. 'It must
have been written "of _moments_." Of _moment_, is _momentous_; of
_moments_, _momentary_. I warrant you, however, Pope wrote this stanza,
and some friend struck it out. Boileau wrote some such thing, and
Arnaud[1028] struck it out, saying, "_Vous gagnerez deux ou trois impies,
et perdrez je ne scais combien des honnettes gens_." These fellows want
to say a daring thing, and don't know how to go about it. Mere poets
know no more of fundamental principles than--.' Here he was interrupted
somehow. Mrs. Thrale mentioned Dryden. JOHNSON. 'He puzzled himself
about predestination.--How foolish was it in Pope to give all his
friendship to Lords, who thought they honoured him by being with him;
and to choose such Lords as Burlington, and Cobham, and Bolingbroke!
Bathurst was negative, a pleasing man; and I have heard no ill of
Marchmont; and then always saying, "I do not value you for being a
Lord;" which was a sure proof that he did[1029]. I never say, I do not
value Boswell more for being born to an estate, because I do not care.'
BOSWELL. 'Nor for being a Scotchman?' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, I do value you
more for being a Scotchman. You are a Scotchman without the faults of a
Scotchman. You would not have been so valuable as you are, had you not
been a Scotchman.'
Talking of divorces, I asked if Othello's doctrine was not plausible?
'He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all[1030].'
Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale joined against this. JOHNSON. 'Ask any man
if he'd wish not to know of such an injury.' BOSWELL. 'Would you tell
your friend to make him unhappy?' JOHNSON. 'Perhaps, Sir, I should not;
but that would be from prudence on my own account. A man would tell his
father.' BOSWELL. 'Yes; because he would not have spurious children to
get any share of the family inheritance.' MRS. THRALE. 'Or he would tell
his brother.' BOSWELL. 'Certainly his _elder_ brother.' JOHNSON. 'You
would tell your friend of a woman's infamy, to prevent his marrying a
whore: there is the same reason to tell him of his wife's infidelity,
when he is married, to prevent the consequences of imposition. It is a
breach of confidence not to tell a friend.' BOSWELL. 'Would you tell
Mr.----[1031]?' (naming a gentleman who assuredly was not in the least
danger of such a miserable disgrace, though married to a fine woman.)
JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; because it would do no good: he is so sluggish, he'd
never go to parliament and get through a divorce.'
He said of one of our friends[1032], 'He is ruining himself without
pleasure. A man who loses at play, or who runs out his fortune at court,
makes his estate less, in hopes of making it bigger: (I am sure of this
word, which was often used by him:) but it is a sad thing to pass
through the quagmire of parsimony, to the gulph of ruin. To pass over
the flowery path of extravagance is very well.'
Amongst the numerous prints pasted[1033] on the walls of the dining-room
at Streatham, was Hogarth's 'Modern Midnight Conversation.' I asked him
what he knew of Parson Ford[1034], who makes a conspicuous figure in the
riotous group. JOHNSON. 'Sir, he was my acquaintance and relation, my
mother's nephew. He had purchased a living in the country, but not
simoniacally. I never saw him but in the country. I have been told he
was a man of great parts; very profligate, but I never heard he was
impious.' BOSWELL. 'Was there not a story of his ghost having appeared?'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, it was believed. A waiter at the Hummums[1035], in which
house Ford died, had been absent for some time, and returned, not
knowing that Ford was dead. Going down to the cellar, according to the
story, he met him; going down again he met him a second time. When he
came up, he asked some of the people of the house what Ford could be
doing there. They told him Ford was dead. The waiter took a fever, in
which he lay for some time. When he recovered, he said he had a message
to deliver to some women from Ford; but he was not to tell what, or to
whom. He walked out; he was followed; but somewhere about St. Paul's
they lost him. He came back, and said he had delivered the message, and
the women exclaimed, "Then we are all undone!" Dr. Pellet, who was not a
credulous man, inquired into the truth of this story, and he said, the
evidence was irresistible. My wife went to the Hummums; (it is a place
where people get themselves cupped.) I believe she went with intention
to hear about this story of Ford. At first they were unwilling to tell
her; but, after they had talked to her, she came away satisfied that it
was true. To be sure the man had a fever; and this vision may have been
the beginning of it. But if the message to the women, and their
behaviour upon it, were true as related, there was something
supernatural. That rests upon his word; and there it remains.'
After Mrs. Thrale was gone to bed, Johnson and I sat up late. We resumed
Sir Joshua Reynolds's argument on the preceding Sunday, that a man would
be virtuous though he had no other motive than to preserve his
character. JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is not true: for as to this world vice does
not hurt a man's character.' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir, debauching a friend's
wife will.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. Who thinks the worse of ----[1036] for it?'
BOSWELL. 'Lord ----[1037] was not his friend.' JOHNSON. 'That is only a
circumstance, Sir; a slight distinction. He could not get into the house
but by Lord ----. A man is chosen Knight of the shire, not the less for
having debauched ladies.' BOSWELL. 'What, Sir, if he debauched the
ladies of gentlemen in the county, will not there be a general
resentment against him?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir. He will lose those
particular gentlemen; but the rest will not trouble their heads about
it.' (warmly.) BOSWELL. 'Well, Sir, I cannot think so.' JOHNSON. 'Nay,
Sir, there is no talking with a man who will dispute what every body
knows, (angrily.) Don't you know this?' BOSWELL. 'No, Sir; and I wish to
think better of your country than you represent it. I knew in Scotland a
gentleman obliged to leave it for debauching a lady; and in one of our
counties an Earl's brother lost his election, because he had debauched
the lady of another Earl in that county, and destroyed the peace of a
noble family.'
Still he would not yield. He proceeded: 'Will you not allow, Sir, that
vice does not hurt a man's character so as to obstruct his prosperity in
life, when you know that ----[1038] was loaded with wealth and honours;
a man who had acquired his fortune by such crimes, that his consciousness
of them impelled him to cut his own throat.' BOSWELL. 'You will
recollect, Sir, that Dr. Robertson said, he cut his throat because he
was weary of still life; little things not being sufficient to move his
great mind.' JOHNSON, (very angry.) 'Nay, Sir, what stuff is this! You
had no more this opinion after Robertson said it, than before. I know
nothing more offensive than repeating what one knows to be foolish
things, by way of continuing a dispute, to see what a man will
answer,--to make him your butt!' (angrier still.) BOSWELL. 'My dear Sir,
I had no such intentions as you seem to suspect; I had not indeed. Might
not this nobleman have felt every thing "weary, stale, flat, and
unprofitable[1039]," as Hamlet says?' JOHNSON. 'Nay, if you are to bring
in gabble, I'll talk no more. I will not, upon my honour.'--My readers
will decide upon this dispute.
Next morning I stated to Mrs. Thrale at breakfast, before he came down,
the dispute of last night as to the influence of character upon success
in life. She said he was certainly wrong; and told me, that a Baronet
lost an election in Wales, because he had debauched the sister of a
gentleman in the county, whom he made one of his daughters invite as her
companion at his seat in the country, when his lady and his other
children were in London. But she would not encounter Johnson upon the
subject.
I staid all this day with him at Streatham. He talked a great deal, in
very good humour.
Looking at Messrs. Dilly's splendid edition of Lord Chesterfield's
miscellaneous works, he laughed, and said, 'Here now are two speeches
ascribed to him, both of which were written by me: and the best of it
is, they have found out that one is like Demosthenes, and the other like
Cicero[1040].'
He censured Lord Kames's _Sketches of the History of Man_[1041], for
misrepresenting Clarendon's account of the appearance of Sir George
Villiers's ghost, as if Clarendon were weakly credulous; when the truth
is, that Clarendon only says, that the story was upon a better
foundation of credit, than usually such discourses are founded upon[1042];
nay, speaks thus of the person who was reported to have seen the vision,
'the poor man, _if he had been at all waking_;' which Lord Kames has
omitted. He added, 'in this book it is maintained that virtue is natural
to man, and that if we would but consult our own hearts we should be
virtuous.[1043] Now after consulting our own hearts all we can, and with
all the helps we have, we find how few of us are virtuous. This is
saying a thing which all mankind know not to be true.' BOSWELL. 'Is not
modesty natural?' JOHNSON. 'I cannot say, Sir, as we find no people
quite in a state of nature; but I think the more they are taught, the
more modest they are. The French are a gross, ill-bred, untaught people;
a lady there will spit on the floor and rub it with her foot.[1044] What
I gained by being in France was, learning to be better satisfied with my
own country. Time may be employed to more advantage from nineteen to
twenty-four almost in any way than in travelling; when you set
travelling against mere negation, against doing nothing, it is better to
be sure; but how much more would a young man improve were he to study
during those years. Indeed, if a young man is wild, and must run after
women and bad company, it is better this should be done abroad, as, on
his return, he can break off such connections, and begin at home a new
man, with a character to form, and acquaintances to make[1045]. How
little does travelling supply to the conversation of any man who has
travelled; how little to Beauclerk!' BOSWELL. 'What say you to
Lord ----?' JOHNSON. 'I never but once heard him talk of what he had
seen, and that was of a large serpent in one of the Pyramids of Egypt.'
BOSWELL. 'Well, I happened to hear him tell the same thing, which made
me mention him[1046].'
I talked of a country life. JOHNSON. 'Were I to live in the country, I
would not devote myself to the acquisition of popularity; I would live
in a much better way, much more happily; I would have my time at my own
command[1047].' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, is it not a sad thing to be at a
distance from all our literary friends?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you will by and
by have enough of this conversation, which now delights you so much.'
[1048]
As he was a zealous friend of subordination, he was at all times
watchful to repress the vulgar cant against the manners of the great;
[1049] High people, Sir, (said he,) are the best; take a hundred ladies
of quality, you'll find them better wives, better mothers, more willing
to sacrifice their own pleasure to their children than a hundred other
women. Tradeswomen (I mean the wives of tradesmen) in the city, who are
worth from ten to fifteen thousand pounds, are the worst creatures upon
the earth, grossly ignorant, and thinking viciousness fashionable.
Farmers, I think, are often worthless fellows[1050]. Few lords will
cheat; and, if they do, they'll be ashamed of it: farmers cheat and are
not ashamed of it: they have all the sensual vices too of the nobility,
with cheating into the bargain. There is as much fornication and adultery
among farmers as amongst noblemen.' BOSWELL. 'The notion of the world,
Sir, however is, that the morals of women of quality are worse than
those in lower stations.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, the licentiousness of one
woman of quality makes more noise than that of a number of women in
lower stations; then, Sir, you are to consider the malignity of women in
the city against women of quality, which will make them believe any
thing of them, such as that they call their coachmen to bed. No, Sir, so
far as I have observed, the higher in rank, the richer ladies are, they
are the better instructed and the more virtuous.'
This year the Reverend Mr. Horne published his _Letter to Mr. Dunning on
the English Particle_; Johnson read it, and though not treated in it
with sufficient respect[1051], he had candour enough to say to Mr. Seward,
'Were I to make a new edition of my _Dictionary_, I would adopt
several[1052] of Mr. Horne's etymologies; I hope they did not put the dog
in the pillory for his libel; he has too much literature for that[1053].'
On Saturday, May 16, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk's with Mr.
Langton, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Higgins, and some others. I regret very
feelingly every instance of my remissness in recording his
_memorabilia_; I am afraid it is the condition of humanity (as Mr.
Windham, of Norfolk, once observed to me, after having made an admirable
speech in the House of Commons, which was highly applauded, but which he
afterwards perceived might have been better:) 'that we are more uneasy
from thinking of our wants, than happy in thinking of our acquisitions.'
This is an unreasonable mode of disturbing our tranquillity, and should
be corrected; let me then comfort myself with the large treasure of
Johnson's conversation which I have preserved for my own enjoyment and
that of the world, and let me exhibit what I have upon each occasion,
whether more or less, whether a bulse[1054], or only a few sparks of a
diamond.
He said, 'Dr. Mead lived more in the broad sunshine of life than almost
any man[1055].' The disaster of General Burgoyne's army was then the
common topic of conversation. It was asked why piling their arms was
insisted upon as a matter of such consequence, when it seemed to be a
circumstance so inconsiderable in itself[1056]. JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, a
French authour says, "_Il y a beaucoup de puerilités dans la guerre_."
All distinctions are trifles, because great things can seldom occur, and
those distinctions are settled by custom. A savage would as willingly
have his meat sent to him in the kitchen, as eat it at the table here;
as men become civilized, various modes of denoting honourable preference
are invented.'
He this day made the observations upon the similarity between _Rasselas_
and _Candide_, which I have inserted in its proper place[1057], when
considering his admirable philosophical Romance. He said _Candide_ he
thought had more power in it than any thing that _Voltaire_ had written.
He said, 'the lyrical part of Horace never can be perfectly translated;
so much of the excellence is in the numbers and the expression. Francis
has done it the best; I'll take his, five out of six, against them all.'
On Sunday, May 17, I presented to him Mr. Fullarton, of Fullarton, who
has since distinguished himself so much in India[1058], to whom he
naturally talked of travels, as Mr. Brydone accompanied him in his tour
to Sicily and Malta. He said, 'The information which we have from modern
travellers is much more authentick than what we had from ancient
travellers; ancient travellers guessed; modern travellers measure[1059].
The Swiss admit that there is but one errour in Stanyan[1060]. If Brydone
were more attentive to his Bible, he would be a good traveller[1061].'
He said, 'Lord Chatham was a Dictator; he possessed the power of putting
the State in motion; now there is no power, all order is relaxed.'
BOSWELL. 'Is there no hope of a change to the better?' JOHNSON. 'Why,
yes, Sir, when we are weary of this relaxation. So the City of London
will appoint its Mayors again by seniority[1062].' BOSWELL. 'But is not
that taking a mere chance for having a good or a bad Mayor?' JOHNSON.
'Yes, Sir; but the evil of competition is greater than that of the worst
Mayor that can come; besides, there is no more reason to suppose that
the choice of a rabble will be right, than that chance will be right.'
On Tuesday, May 19, I was to set out for Scotland in the evening. He was
engaged to dine with me at Mr. Dilly's, I waited upon him to remind him
of his appointment and attend him thither; he gave me some salutary
counsel, and recommended vigorous resolution against any deviation from
moral duty. BOSWELL. 'But you would not have me to bind myself by a
solemn obligation?' JOHNSON, (much agitated) 'What! a vow--O, no, Sir, a
vow is a horrible thing, it is a snare for sin[1063]. The man who cannot
go to Heaven without a vow--may go--.' Here, standing erect, in the
middle of his library, and rolling grand, his pause was truly a curious
compound of the solemn and the ludicrous; he half-whistled in his usual
way, when pleasant, and he paused, as if checked by religious awe.
Methought he would have added--to Hell--but was restrained. I humoured
the dilemma. 'What! Sir, (said I,) _In cælum jusseris ibit_[1064]?'
alluding to his imitation of it,--
'And bid him go to Hell, to Hell he goes.'
I had mentioned to him a slight fault in his noble _Imitation of the
Tenth Satire of Juvenal_, a too near recurrence of the verb _spread_, in
his description of the young Enthusiast at College:--
'Through all his veins the fever of renown,
_Spreads_ from the strong contagion of the gown;
O'er Bodley's dome his future labours _spread_,
And Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head[1065].'
He had desired me to change _spreads_ to _burns_, but for perfect
authenticity, I now had it done with his own hand[1066]. I thought this
alteration not only cured the fault, but was more poetical, as it might
carry an allusion to the shirt by which Hercules was inflamed.
We had a quiet comfortable meeting at Mr. Dilly's; nobody there but
ourselves. Mr. Dilly mentioned somebody having wished that Milton's
_Tractate on Education_ should be printed along with his Poems in the
edition of _The English Poets_ then going on. JOHNSON. 'It would be
breaking in upon the plan; but would be of no great consequence. So far
as it would be any thing, it would be wrong. Education in England has
been in danger of being hurt by two of its greatest men, Milton and
Locke. Milton's plan is impracticable, and I suppose has never been
tried. Locke's, I fancy, has been tried often enough, but is very
imperfect; it gives too much to one side, and too little to the other;
it gives too little to literature[1067].--I shall do what I can for Dr.
Watts; but my materials are very scanty. His poems are by no means his
best works; I cannot praise his poetry itself highly; but I can praise
its design[1068].'
My illustrious friend and I parted with assurances of affectionate
regard.
I wrote to him on the 25th of May, from Thorpe in Yorkshire, one of the
seats of Mr. Bosville[1069], and gave him an account of my having passed
a day at Lincoln, unexpectedly, and therefore without having any letters
of introduction, but that I had been honoured with civilities from the
Reverend Mr. Simpson, an acquaintance of his, and Captain Broadley, of
the Lincolnshire Militia; but more particularly from the Reverend Dr.
Gordon, the Chancellor, who first received me with great politeness as a
stranger, and when I informed him who I was, entertained me at his house
with the most flattering attention; I also expressed the pleasure with
which I had found that our worthy friend Langton was highly esteemed in
his own county town.
'To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
'Edinburgh, June 18, 1778.
'MY DEAR SIR,
* * * * *
'Since my return to Scotland, I have been again at Lanark, and have had
more conversation with Thomson's sister. It is strange that Murdoch, who
was his intimate friend, should have mistaken his mother's maiden name,
which he says was Hume, whereas Hume was the name of his grandmother by
the mother's side. His mother's name was Beatrix Trotter[1070], a
daughter of Mr. Trotter, of Fogo, a small proprietor of land. Thomson
had one brother, whom he had with him in England as his amanuensis; but
he was seized with a consumption, and having returned to Scotland, to
try what his native air would do for him, died young. He had three
sisters, one married to Mr. Bell, minister of the parish of Strathaven;
one to Mr. Craig, father of the ingenious architect, who gave the plan
of the New Town of Edinburgh; and one to Mr. Thomson, master of the
grammar-school at Lanark. He was of a humane and benevolent disposition;
not only sent valuable presents to his sisters, but a yearly allowance
in money, and was always wishing to have it in his power to do them more
good. Lord Lyttelton's observation, that "he loathed much to write," was
very true. His letters to his sister, Mrs. Thomson, were not frequent,
and in one of them he says, "All my friends who know me, know how
backward I am to write letters; and never impute the negligence of my
hand to the coldness of my heart." I send you a copy of the last letter
which she had from him[1071]; she never heard that he had any intention
of going into holy orders. From this late interview with his sister, I
think much more favourably of him, as I hope you will. I am eager to see
more of your Prefaces to the Poets; I solace myself with the few
proof-sheets which I have.
'I send another parcel of Lord Hailes's _Annals_[1072], which you will
please to return to me as soon as you conveniently can. He says, "he
wishes you would cut a little deeper;" but he may be proud that there is
so little occasion to use the critical knife. I ever am, my dear Sir,
'Your faithful and affectionate,
'humble servant,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
Mr. Langton has been pleased, at my request, to favour me with some
particulars of Dr. Johnson's visit to Warley-camp, where this gentleman
was at the time stationed as a Captain in the Lincolnshire militia[1073].
I shall give them in his own words in a letter to me.
'It was in the summer of the year 1778[1074], that he complied with my
invitation to come down to the Camp at Warley, and he staid with me
about a week; the scene appeared, notwithstanding a great degree of ill
health that he seemed to labour under, to interest and amuse him, as
agreeing with the disposition that I believe you know he constantly
manifested towards enquiring into subjects of the military kind. He
sate, with a patient degree of attention, to observe the proceedings of
a regimental court-martial, that happened to be called, in the time of
his stay with us; and one night, as late as at eleven o'clock, he
accompanied the Major of the regiment in going what are styled the
_Rounds_, where he might observe the forms of visiting the guards, for
the seeing that they and their sentries are ready in their duty on their
several posts. He took occasion to converse at times on military
topicks, one in particular, that I see the mention of, in your _Journal
of a Tour to the Hebrides_, which lies open before me[1075], as to
gun-powder; which he spoke of to the same effect, in part, that you
relate.
'On one occasion, when the regiment were going through their exercise,
he went quite close to the men at one of the extremities of it, and
watched all their practices attentively; and, when he came away, his
remark was, "The men indeed do load their muskets and fire with
wonderful celerity." He was likewise particular in requiring to know
what was the weight of the musquet balls in use, and within what
distance they might be expected to take effect when fired off.
'In walking among the tents, and observing the difference between those
of the officers and private men, he said that the superiority of
accommodation of the better conditions of life, to that of the inferiour
ones, was never exhibited to him in so distinct a view. The civilities
paid to him in the camp were, from the gentlemen of the Lincolnshire
regiment, one of the officers of which accommodated him with a tent in
which he slept; and from General Hall, who very courteously invited him
to dine with him, where he appeared to be very well pleased with his
entertainment, and the civilities he received on the part of the
General[1076]; the attention likewise, of the General's aid-de-camp,
Captain Smith, seemed to be very welcome to him, as appeared by their
engaging in a great deal of discourse together. The gentlemen of the
East York regiment likewise on being informed of his coming, solicited
his company at dinner, but by that time he had fixed his departure, so
that he could not comply with the invitation.'
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'I have received two letters from you, of which the second complains of
the neglect shewn to the first. You must not tye your friends to such
punctual correspondence. You have all possible assurances of my
affection and esteem; and there ought to be no need of reiterated
professions. When it may happen that I can give you either counsel or
comfort, I hope it will never happen to me that I should neglect you;
but you must not think me criminal or cold if I say nothing when I have
nothing to say.
'You are now happy enough. Mrs. Boswell is recovered; and I congratulate
you upon the probability of her long life. If general approbation will
add anything to your enjoyment, I can tell you that I have heard you
mentioned as _a man whom everybody likes_[1077]. I think life has little
more to give.
'----[1078] has gone to his regiment. He has laid down his coach, and
talks of making more contractions of his expence: how he will succeed I
know not. It is difficult to reform a household gradually; it may be
better done by a system totally new. I am afraid he has always something
to hide. When we pressed him to go to ----[1079], he objected the
necessity of attending his navigation[1080]; yet he could talk of going
to Aberdeen, a place not much nearer his navigation. I believe he cannot
bear the thought of living at ----[1081] in a state of diminution; and
of appearing among the gentlemen of the neighbourhood _shorn of his
beams_.[1082] This is natural, but it is cowardly. What I told him of
the encreasing expence of a growing family seems to have struck him. He
certainly had gone on with very confused views, and we have, I think,
shewn him that he is wrong; though, with the common deficiency of
advisers, we have not shewn him how to do right.[1083]
'I wish you would a little correct or restrain your imagination, and
imagine that happiness, such as life admits, may be had at other places
as well as London. Without asserting Stoicism, it may be said, that it
is our business to exempt ourselves as much as we can from the power of
external things. There is but one solid basis of happiness; and that is,
the reasonable hope of a happy futurity.[1084] This may be had every where.
'I do not blame your preference of London to other places, for it is
really to be preferred, if the choice is free; but few have the choice
of their place, or their manner of life; and mere pleasure ought not to
be the prime motive of action.
'Mrs. Thrale, poor thing, has a daughter.[1085] Mr. Thrale dislikes the
times,[1086] like the rest of us. Mrs. Williams is sick; Mrs. Desmoulins
is poor. I have miserable nights. Nobody is well but Mr. Levett.
'I am, dear Sir, Your most, &c.
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, July 3, 1778.'
In the course of this year there was a difference between him and his
friend Mr. Strahan;[1087] the particulars of which it is unnecessary to
relate. Their reconciliation was communicated to me in a letter from Mr.
Strahan, in the following words:--
'The notes I shewed you that passed between him and me were dated in
March last. The matter lay dormant till July 27,[1088] when he wrote to
me as follows:
"To William Strahan, Esq.
"Sir,
"It would be very foolish for us to continue strangers any longer. You
can never by persistency make wrong right. If I resented too
acrimoniously, I resented only to yourself. Nobody ever saw or heard
what I wrote. You saw that my anger was over, for in a day or two I came
to your house. I have given you longer time; and I hope you have made so
good use of it, as to be no longer on evil terms with, Sir,
"Your, &c.
"Sam. Johnson."
'On this I called upon him; and he has since dined with me.'
After this time, the same friendship as formerly continued between Dr.
Johnson and Mr. Strahan. My friend mentioned to me a little circumstance
of his attention, which, though we may smile at it, must be allowed to
have its foundation in a nice and true knowledge of human life. 'When I
write to Scotland, (said he,) I employ Strahan to frank my letters, that
he may have the consequence of appearing a Parliament-man among his
countrymen.'
'To CAPTAIN LANGTON[1089], WARLEY-CAMP.
'DEAR SIR,
'When I recollect how long ago I was received with so much kindness at
Warley Common, I am ashamed that I have not made some enquiries after my
friends.
'Pray how many sheep-stealers did you convict? and how did you punish
them? When are you to be cantoned in better habitations? The air grows
cold, and the ground damp. Longer stay in the camp cannot be without
much danger to the health of the common men, if even the officers can
escape.
'You see that Dr. Percy is now Dean of Carlisle; about five hundred a
year, with a power of presenting himself to some good living. He is
provided for.
'The session of the CLUB is to commence with that of the Parliament. Mr.
Banks[1090] desires to be admitted; he will be a very honourable
accession.
'Did the King please you[1091]? The Coxheath men, I think, have some
reason to complain[1092]: Reynolds says your camp is better than theirs.
'I hope you find yourself able to encounter this weather. Take care of
your own health; and, as you can, of your men. Be pleased to make my
compliments to all the gentlemen whose notice I have had, and whose
kindness I have experienced.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'Sam. Johnson.'
'October 31, 1778.'
I wrote to him on the 18th of August, the 18th of September, and the 6th
of November; informing him of my having had another son born, whom I had
called James[1093]; that I had passed some time at Auchinleck; that the
Countess of Loudoun, now in her ninety-ninth year, was as fresh as when
he saw her[1094], and remembered him with respect; and that his mother
by adoption, the Countess of Eglintoune[1095], had said to me, 'Tell Mr.
Johnson I love him exceedingly;' that I had again suffered much from bad
spirits; and that as it was very long since I heard from him, I was not
a little uneasy.
The continuance of his regard for his friend Dr. Burney, appears from
the following letters:--
'To THE REVEREND DR. WHEELER[1096], OXFORD.
'DEAR SIR,
'Dr. Burney, who brings this paper, is engaged in a History of Musick;
and having been told by Dr. Markham of some MSS. relating to his
subject, which are in the library of your College, is desirous to
examine them. He is my friend; and therefore I take the liberty of
intreating your favour and assistance in his enquiry: and can assure
you, with great confidence, that if you knew him he would not want any
intervenient solicitation to obtain the kindness of one who loves
learning and virtue as you love them.
'I have been flattering myself all the summer with the hope of paying my
annual visit to my friends; but something has obstructed me: I still
hope not to be long without seeing you. I should be glad of a little
literary talk; and glad to shew you, by the frequency of my visits, how
eagerly I love it, when you talk it.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, November 2, 1778.'
'TO THE REVEREND DR. EDWARDS[1097], OXFORD.
'SIR,
'The bearer, DR. BURNEY, has had some account of a Welsh Manuscript in
the Bodleian library, from which he hopes to gain some materials for his
History of Musick; but being ignorant of the language, is at a loss
where to find assistance. I make no doubt but you, Sir, can help him
through his difficulties, and therefore take the liberty of recommending
him to your favour, as I am sure you will find him a man worthy of every
civility that can be shewn, and every benefit that can be conferred.
'But we must not let Welsh drive us from Greek. What comes of
Xenophon[1098]? If you do not like the trouble of publishing the book,
do not let your commentaries be lost; contrive that they may be published
somewhere.
'I am, Sir,
'Your humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'London, November 2, 1778.
These letters procured Dr. Burney great kindness and friendly offices
from both of these gentleman, not only on that occasion, but in future
visits to the university[1099]. The same year Dr. Johnson not only wrote
to Dr. Joseph Warton in favour of Dr. Burney's youngest son, who was to
be placed in the college of Winchester, but accompanied him when he went
thither[1100].
We surely cannot but admire the benevolent exertions of this great and
good man, especially when we consider how grievously he was afflicted
with bad health, and how uncomfortable his home was made by the
perpetual jarring of those whom he charitably accommodated under his
roof. He has sometimes suffered me to talk jocularly of his group of
females, and call them his _Seraglio_. He thus mentions them, together
with honest Levett, in one of his letters to Mrs. Thrale[1101]:
'Williams hates every body; Levett hates Desmoulins, and does not love
Williams; Desmoulins hates them both; Poll[1102] loves none of them.'
[1103]
'To JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'It is indeed a long time since I wrote, and I think you have some
reason to complain; however, you must not let small things disturb you,
when you have such a fine addition to your happiness as a new boy, and I
hope your lady's health restored by bringing him. It seems very probable
that a little care will now restore her, if any remains of her
complaints are left.
'You seem, if I understand your letter, to be gaining ground at
Auchinleck[1104], an incident that would give me great delight.
* * * * *
'When any fit of anxiety, or gloominess, or perversion of mind, lays
hold upon you, make it a rule not to publish it by complaints, but exert
your whole care to hide it; by endeavouring to hide it, you will drive
it away. Be always busy[1105].
'The CLUB is to meet with the Parliament; we talk of electing Banks, the
traveller; he will be a reputable member.
'Langton has been encamped with his company of militia on Warley-common;
I spent five days amongst them; he signalized himself as a diligent
officer, and has very high respect in the regiment. He presided when I
was there at a court-martial; he is now quartered in Hertfordshire; his
lady and little ones are in Scotland. Paoli came to the camp and
commended the soldiers.
'Of myself I have no great matter to say, my health is not restored, my
nights are restless and tedious. The best night that I have had these
twenty years was at Fort-Augustus[1106].
'I hope soon to send you a few lines to read.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your most affectionate,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'November 21, 1778.'
About this time the Rev. Mr. John Hussey, who had been some time in
trade, and was then a clergyman of the Church of England, being about to
undertake a journey to Aleppo, and other parts of the East, which he
accomplished, Dr. Johnson, (who had long been in habits of intimacy with
him,) honoured him with the following letter:--
'To MR. JOHN HUSSEY.
'DEAR SIR,
'I have sent you the _Grammar_, and have left you two books more, by
which I hope to be remembered; write my name in them; we may perhaps see
each other no more, you part with my good wishes, nor do I despair of
seeing you return. Let no opportunities of vice corrupt you; let no bad
example seduce you; let the blindness of Mahometans confirm you in
Christianity. GOD bless you.
'I am, dear Sir,
'Your affectionate humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'December 29, 1778.'
Johnson this year expressed great satisfaction at the publication of the
first volume of _Discourses to the Royal Academy_[1107], by Sir Joshua
Reynolds, whom he always considered as one of his literary school[1108].
Much praise indeed is due to those excellent _Discourses_, which are so
universally admired, and for which the authour received from the Empress
of Russia a gold snuff-box, adorned with her profile in _bas relief_,
set in diamonds; and containing what is infinitely more valuable, a slip
of paper, on which are written with her Imperial Majesty's own hand, the
following words: '_Pour le Chevalier Reynolds en témoignage du
contentement que j'ai ressentie[1109] à la lecture de ses excellens
discours sur la peinture_.'
In 1779, Johnson gave the world a luminous proof that the vigour of his
mind in all its faculties, whether memory, judgement, or imagination,
was not in the least abated; for this year came out the first four
volumes of his _Prefaces, biographical and critical, to the most eminent
of the English Poets_,[*] published by the booksellers of London. The
remaining volumes came out in the year 1780[1110]. The Poets were
selected by the several booksellers who had the honorary copy right,
which is still preserved among them by mutual compact, notwithstanding
the decision of the House of Lords against the perpetuity of Literary
Property[1111]. We have his own authority[1112], that by his
recommendation the poems of Blackmore[1113], Watts[1114], Pomfret[1115],
and Yalden[1116], were added to the collection. Of this work I shall
speak more particularly hereafter.
On the 22nd of January, I wrote to him on several topicks, and mentioned
that as he had been so good as to permit me to have the proof sheets of
his _Lives of the Poets_, I had written to his servant, Francis, to take
care of them for me.
'MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
'Edinburgh, Feb. 2, 1779.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'Garrick's death is a striking event; not that we should be surprised
with the death of any man, who has lived sixty-two years; but because
there was a _vivacity_ in our late celebrated friend, which drove away
the thoughts of _death_ from any association with _him_. I am sure you
will be tenderly affected with his departure[1117]; and I would wish to
hear from you upon the subject. I was obliged to him in my days of
effervescence in London, when poor Derrick was my governour[1118]; and
since that time I received many civilities from him. Do you remember how
pleasing it was, when I received a letter from him at Inverary[1119],
upon our first return to civilized living after our Hebridean journey? I
shall always remember him with affection as well as admiration.
'On Saturday last, being the 30th of January[1120], I drank coffee and
old port, and had solemn conversation with the Reverend Mr. Falconer, a
nonjuring bishop, a very learned and worthy man. He gave two toasts,
which you will believe I drank with cordiality, Dr. Samuel Johnson, and
Flora Macdonald. I sat about four hours with him, and it was really as
if I had been living in the last century. The Episcopal Church of
Scotland, though faithful to the royal house of Stuart, has never
accepted of any _congé d'liré_, since the Revolution; it is the only
true Episcopal Church in Scotland, as it has its own succession of
bishops. For as to the episcopal clergy who take the oaths to the
present government, they indeed follow the rites of the Church of
England, but, as Bishop Falconer observed, "they are not _Episcopals_;
for they are under no bishop, as a bishop cannot have authority beyond
his diocese." This venerable gentleman did me the honour to dine with me
yesterday, and he laid his hands upon the heads of my little ones. We
had a good deal of curious literary conversation, particularly about Mr.
Thomas Ruddiman[1121], with whom he lived in great friendship.
'Any fresh instance of the uncertainty of life makes one embrace more
closely a valuable friend. My dear and much respected Sir, may GOD
preserve you long in this world while I am in it.
'I am ever,
'Your much obliged,
'And affectionate humble servant,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
On the 23rd of February I wrote to him again, complaining of his
silence, as I had heard he was ill, and had written to Mr. Thrale, for
information concerning him; and I announced my intention of soon being
again in London.
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'DEAR SIR,
'Why should you take such delight to make a bustle, to write to Mr.
Thrale that I am negligent, and to Francis to do what is so very
unnecessary. Thrale, you may be sure, cared not about it; and I shall
spare Francis the trouble, by ordering a set both of the _Lives_ and
_Poets_ to dear Mrs. Boswell[1122], in acknowledgement of her marmalade.
Persuade her to accept them, and accept them kindly. If I thought she
would receive them scornfully, I would send them to Miss Boswell, who, I
hope, has yet none of her mamma's ill-will to me.
'I would send sets of _Lives_, four volumes, to some other friends, to
Lord Hailes first. His second volume lies by my bed-side; a book surely
of great labour, and to every just thinker of great delight. Write me
word to whom I shall send besides[1123]; would it please Lord Auchinleck?
Mrs. Thrale waits in the coach.
'I am, dear Sir, &c.,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'March 13, 1779.'
This letter crossed me on the road to London, where I arrived on Monday,
March 15, and next morning at a late hour, found Dr. Johnson sitting
over his tea, attended by Mrs. Desmoulins, Mr. Levett, and a clergyman,
who had come to submit some poetical pieces to his revision. It is
wonderful what a number and variety of writers, some of them even
unknown to him, prevailed on his good-nature to look over their works,
and suggest corrections and improvements[1124]. My arrival interrupted
for a little while the important business of this true representative
of Bayes[1125]; upon its being resumed, I found that the subject under
immediate consideration was a translation, yet in manuscript, of the
_Carmen Seculare_ of Horace, which had this year been set to musick, and
performed as a publick entertainment in London, for the joint benefit of
Monsieur Philidor and Signer Baretti[1126]. When Johnson had done
reading, the authour asked him bluntly, 'If upon the whole it was a good
translation?' Johnson, whose regard for truth was uncommonly strict,
seemed to be puzzled for a moment, what answer to make; as he certainly
could not honestly commend the performance: with exquisite address he
evaded the question thus, 'Sir, I do not say that it may not be made a
very good translation[1127].' Here nothing whatever in favour of the
performance was affirmed, and yet the writer was not shocked. A printed
_Ode to the Warlike Genius of Britain_, came next in review; the bard
[1128] was a lank bony figure, with short black hair; he was writhing
himself in agitation, while Johnson read, and shewing his teeth in a
grin of earnestness, exclaimed in broken sentences, and in a keen sharp
tone, 'Is that poetry, Sir?--Is it _Pindar_?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, there
is here a great deal of what is called poetry.' Then, turning to me, the
poet cried, 'My muse has not been long upon the town, and (pointing to
the _Ode_) it trembles under the hand of the great critick[1129].'
Johnson, in a tone of displeasure, asked him, 'Why do you praise Anson
[1130]?' I did not trouble him by asking his reason for this question.
He proceeded, 'Here is an errour, Sir; you have made Genius feminine.'
[1131] 'Palpable, Sir; (cried the enthusiast) I know it. But (in a lower
tone) it was to pay a compliment to the Duchess of Devonshire, with
which her Grace was pleased. She is walking across Coxheath, in the
military uniform, and I suppose her to be the Genius of Britain[1132].'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, you are giving a reason for it; but that will not make it
right. You may have a reason why two and two should make five; but they
will still make but four.'
Although I was several times with him in the course of the following
days, such it seems were my occupations, or such my negligence, that I
have preserved no memorial of his conversation till Friday, March 26,
when I visited him. He said he expected to be attacked on account of his
_Lives of the Poets_. 'However (said he) I would rather be attacked than
unnoticed. For the worst thing you can do to an authour is to be silent
as to his works.[1133]. An assault upon a town is a bad thing; but
starving it is still worse; an assault may be unsuccessful; you may have
more men killed than you kill; but if you starve the town, you are sure
of victory.'
Talking of a friend of ours associating with persons of very discordant
principles and characters; I said he was a very universal man, quite a
man of the world[1134]. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but one may be so much a man
of the world as to be nothing in the world. I remember a passage in
Goldsmith's _Vicar of Wakefield_, which he was afterwards fool enough to
expunge: "I do not love a man who is zealous for nothing."' BOSWELL.
'That was a fine passage.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir: there was another fine
passage too, which he struck out: "When I was a young man, being anxious
to distinguish myself, I was perpetually starting new propositions. But
I soon gave this over; for, I found that generally what was new was
false[1135]."' I said I did not like to sit with people of whom I had not
a good opinion. JOHNSON. 'But you must not indulge your delicacy too much;
or you will be a _tête-à-tête_ man all your life.'
During my stay in London this spring, I find I was unaccountably[1136]
negligent in preserving Johnson's sayings, more so than at any time when
I was happy enough to have an opportunity of hearing his wisdom and wit.
There is no help for it now. I must content myself with presenting such
scraps as I have. But I am nevertheless ashamed and vexed to think how
much has been lost. It is not that there was a bad crop this year; but
that I was not sufficiently careful in gathering it in. I, therefore, in
some instances can only exhibit a few detached fragments.
Talking of the wonderful concealment of the authour of the celebrated
letters signed _Junius_[1137]; he said, 'I should have believed Burke to
be Junius, because I know no man but Burke who is capable of writing
these letters[1138]; but Burke spontaneously denied it to me. The case
would have been different had I asked him if he was the authour; a man
so questioned, as to an anonymous publication, may think he has a right
to deny it.'[1139].
He observed that his old friend, Mr. Sheridan, had been honoured with
extraordinary attention in his own country, by having had an exception
made in his favour in an Irish Act of Parliament concerning insolvent
debtors[1140]. 'Thus to be singled out (said he) by a legislature, as an
object of publick consideration and kindness, is a proof of no common
merit.'
At Streatham, on Monday, March 29, at breakfast he maintained that a
father had no right to control the inclinations of his daughters in
marriage[1141].
On Wednesday, March 31, when I visited him, and confessed an excess of
which I had very seldom been guilty; that I had spent a whole night in
playing at cards, and that I could not look back on it with
satisfaction; instead of a harsh animadversion, he mildly said, 'Alas,
Sir, on how few things can we look back with satisfaction.'
On Thursday, April 1, he commended one of the Dukes of Devonshire for 'a
dogged veracity[1142].' He said too, 'London is nothing to some people;
but to a man whose pleasure is intellectual, London is the place. And
there is no place where oeconomy can be so well practised as in London.
More can be had here for the money, even by ladies, than any where else.
You cannot play tricks with your fortune in a small place; you must make
an uniform appearance. Here a lady may have well-furnished apartments,
and elegant dress, without any meat in her kitchen.'
I was amused by considering with how much ease and coolness he could
write or talk to a friend, exhorting him not to suppose that happiness
was not to be found as well in other places as in London[1143]; when he
himself was at all times sensible of its being, comparatively speaking,
a heaven upon earth[1144]. The truth is, that by those who from sagacity,
attention, and experience, have learnt the full advantage of London, its
preeminence over every other place, not only for variety of enjoyment,
but for comfort, will be felt with a philosophical exultation[1145]. The
freedom from remark and petty censure, with which life may be passed
there, is a circumstance which a man who knows the teazing restraint of
a narrow circle must relish highly. Mr. Burke, whose orderly and amiable
domestic habits might make the eye of observation less irksome to him
than to most men, said once very pleasantly, in my hearing, 'Though I
have the honour to represent Bristol, I should not like to live there; I
should be obliged to be so much _upon my good behaviour_.' In London, a
man may live in splendid society at one time, and in frugal retirement
at another, without animadversion. There, and there alone, a man's own
house is truly his _castle_, in which he can be in perfect safety from
intrusion whenever he pleases. I never shall forget how well this was
expressed to me one day by Mr. Meynell[1146]: 'The chief advantage of
London (said he) is, that a man is always _so near his burrow_[1147].'
He said of one of his old acquaintances, 'He is very fit for a
travelling governour. He knows French very well. He is a man of good
principles; and there would be no danger that a young gentleman should
catch his manner; for it is so very bad, that it must be avoided. In
that respect he would be like the drunken Helot[1148].'
A gentleman has informed me, that Johnson said of the same person, 'Sir,
he has the most _inverted_ understanding of any man whom I have ever
known.'
On Friday, April 2, being Good-Friday, I visited him in the morning as
usual; and finding that we insensibly fell into a train of ridicule upon
the foibles of one of our friends, a very worthy man[1149], I, by way of
a check, quoted some good admonition from _The Government of the
Tongue_[1150], that very pious book. It happened also remarkably enough,
that the subject of the sermon preached to us to-day by Dr. Burrows, the
rector of St. Clement Danes, was the certainty that at the last day we
must give an account of 'the deeds done in the body[1151];' and, amongst
various acts of culpability he mentioned evil-speaking. As we were
moving slowly along in the crowd from church, Johnson jogged my elbow,
and said, 'Did you attend to the sermon?' 'Yes, Sir, (said I,) it was
very applicable to _us_.' He, however, stood upon the defensive. 'Why,
Sir, the sense of ridicule is given us, and may be lawfully used[1152].
The authour of _The Government of the Tongue_ would have us treat all
men alike.'
In the interval between morning and evening service, he endeavoured to
employ himself earnestly in devotional exercises; and as he has
mentioned in his _Prayers and Meditations_[1153], gave me '_Les Pensées
de Paschal_', that I might not interrupt him. I preserve the book with
reverence. His presenting it to me is marked upon it with his own hand,
and I have found in it a truly divine unction. We went to church again
in the afternoon[1154].
On Saturday, April 3, I visited him at night, and found him sitting in
Mrs. Williams's room, with her, and one who he afterwards told me was a
natural son[1155] of the second Lord Southwell. The table had a singular
appearance, being covered with a heterogeneous assemblage of oysters and
porter for his company, and tea for himself. I mentioned my having heard
an eminent physician, who was himself a Christian, argue in favour of
universal toleration, and maintain, that no man could be hurt by another
man's differing from him in opinion. JOHNSON. 'Sir, you are to a certain
degree hurt by knowing that even one man does not believe[1156].'
On Easter-day, after solemn service at St. Paul's, I dined with him: Mr.
Allen the printer was also his guest. He was uncommonly silent; and I
have not written down any thing, except a single curious fact, which,
having the sanction of his inflexible veracity, may be received as a
striking instance of human insensibility and inconsideration. As he was
passing by a fishmonger who was skinning an eel alive, he heard him
'curse it, because it would not lye still[1157].'
On Wednesday, April 7, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Reynolds's. I have
not marked what company was there. Johnson harangued upon the qualities
of different liquors; and spoke with great contempt of claret, as so
weak, that 'a man would be drowned by it before it made him drunk[1158].'
He was persuaded to drink one glass of it, that he might judge, not from
recollection, which might be dim, but from immediate sensation. He shook
his head, and said, 'Poor stuff! No, Sir, claret is the liquor for boys;
port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero (smiling) must drink
brandy. In the first place, the flavour of brandy is most grateful to
the palate; and then brandy will do soonest for a man what drinking
_can_ do for him[1159]. There are, indeed, few who are able to drink
brandy. That is a power rather to be wished for than attained. And yet,
(proceeded he) as in all pleasure hope is a considerable part, I know
not but fruition comes too quick by brandy. Florence wine I think the
worst; it is wine only to the eye; it is wine neither while you are
drinking it, nor after you have drunk it; it neither pleases the taste,
nor exhilarates the spirits.' I reminded him how heartily he and I used
to drink wine together, when we were first acquainted; and how I used to
have a head-ache after sitting up with him[1160]. He did not like to
have this recalled, or, perhaps, thinking that I boasted improperly,
resolved to have a witty stroke at me: 'Nay, Sir, it was not the _wine_
that made your head ache, but the _sense_ that I put into it.' BOSWELL.
'What, Sir! will sense make the head ache?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, (with a
smile) when it is not used to it.'--No man who has a true relish of
pleasantry could be offended at this; especially if Johnson in a long
intimacy had given him repeated proofs of his regard and good estimation.
I used to say, that as he had given me a thousand pounds in praise, he
had a good right now and then to take a guinea from me.
On Thursday, April 8, I dined with him at Mr. Allan Ramsay's, with Lord
Graham[1161] and some other company. We talked of Shakspeare's witches.
JOHNSON. 'They are beings of his own creation; they are a compound of
malignity and meanness, without any abilities; and are quite different
from the Italian magician. King James says in his _Daemonology_,
'Magicians command the devils: witches are their servants. The Italian
magicians are elegant beings.' RAMSAY. 'Opera witches, not Drury-lane
witches.' Johnson observed, that abilities might be employed in a narrow
sphere, as in getting money, which he said he believed no man could do,
without vigorous parts, though concentrated to a point[1162]. RAMSAY.
'Yes, like a strong horse in a mill; he pulls better.'
Lord Graham, while he praised the beauty of Lochlomond, on the banks of
which is his family seat, complained of the climate, and said he could
not bear it. JOHNSON. 'Nay, my Lord, don't talk so: you may bear it well
enough. Your ancestors have borne it more years than I can tell.' This
was a handsome compliment to the antiquity of the House of Montrose. His
Lordship told me afterwards, that he had only affected to complain of
the climate; lest, if he had spoken as favourably of his country as he
really thought, Dr. Johnson might have attacked it. Johnson was very
courteous to Lady Margaret Macdonald. 'Madam, (said he,) when I was in
the Isle of Sky, I heard of the people running to take the stones off
the road, lest Lady Margaret's horse should stumble[1163].'
Lord Graham commended Dr. Drummond[1164] at Naples, as a man of
extraordinary talents; and added, that he had a great love of liberty.
JOHNSON. 'He is _young_, my Lord; (looking to his Lordship with an arch
smile) all _boys_ love liberty, till experience convinces them they are
not so fit to govern themselves as they imagined. We are all agreed as
to our own liberty; we would have as much of it as we can get; but we
are not agreed as to the liberty of others: for in proportion as we
take, others must lose. I believe we hardly wish that the mob should
have liberty to govern us. When that was the case some time ago, no man
was at liberty not to have candles in his windows.' RAMSAY. 'The result
is, that order is better than confusion.' JOHNSON. 'The result is, that
order cannot be had but by subordination.'
On Friday, April 16, I had been present at the trial of the unfortunate
Mr. Hackman, who, in a fit of frantick jealous love, had shot Miss Ray,
the favourite of a nobleman.[1165] Johnson, in whose company I dined
to-day with some other friends, was much interested by my account of what
passed, and particularly with his prayer for the mercy of heaven.[1166]
He said, in a solemn fervid tone, 'I hope he _shall_ find mercy.'
This day[1167] a violent altercation arose between Johnson and
Beauclerk,[1168] which having made much noise at the time, I think it
proper, in order to prevent any future misrepresentation, to give a
minute account of it.
In talking of Hackman, Johnson argued, as Judge Blackstone had done,
that his being furnished with two pistols was a proof that he meant to
shoot two persons. Mr. Beauclerk said, 'No; for that every wise man who
intended to shoot himself, took two pistols, that he might be sure of
doing it at once. Lord ----'s cook shot himself with one pistol, and
lived ten days in great agony. Mr. ----, who loved buttered muffins, but
durst not eat them because they disagreed with his stomach, resolved to
shoot himself; and then he eat three buttered muffins for breakfast,
before shooting himself, knowing that he should not be troubled with
indigestion:[1169] _he_ had two charged pistols; one was found lying
charged upon the table by him, after he had shot himself with the
other.' 'Well, (said Johnson, with an air of triumph,) you see here one
pistol was sufficient.' Beauclerk replied smartly, 'Because it happened
to kill him.' And either then or a very little afterwards, being piqued
at Johnson's triumphant remark, added, 'This is what you don't know, and
I do.' There was then a cessation of the dispute; and some minutes
intervened, during which, dinner and the glass went on cheerfully; when
Johnson suddenly and abruptly exclaimed, 'Mr. Beauclerk, how came you to
talk so petulantly to me, as "This is what you don't know, but what I
know"? One thing _I_ know, which _you_ don't seem to know, that you are
very uncivil.' BEAUCLERK. 'Because you began by being uncivil, (which
you always are.)' The words in parenthesis were, I believe, not heard by
Dr. Johnson. Here again there was a cessation of arms. Johnson told me,
that the reason why he waited at first some time without taking any
notice of what Mr. Beauclerk said, was because he was thinking whether
he should resent it. But when he considered that there were present a
young Lord and an eminent traveller, two men of the world with whom he
had never dined before, he was apprehensive that they might think they
had a right to take such liberties with him as Beauclerk did, and
therefore resolved he would not let it pass; adding, that 'he would not
appear a coward.' A little while after this, the conversation turned on
the violence of Hackman's temper. Johnson then said, 'It was his
business to _command_ his temper, as my friend, Mr. Beauclerk, should
have done some time ago.' BEAUCLERK. 'I should learn of _you_, Sir.'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, you have given _me_ opportunities enough of learning,
when I have been in _your_ company. No man loves to be treated with
contempt.' BEAUCLERK. (with a polite inclination towards Johnson) 'Sir,
you have known me twenty years, and however I may have treated others,
you may be sure I could never treat you with contempt' JOHNSON. 'Sir,
you have said more than was necessary.' Thus it ended; and Beauclerk's
coach not having come for him till very late, Dr. Johnson and another
gentleman sat with him a long time after the rest of the company were
gone; and he and I dined at Beauclerk's on the Saturday se'nnight
following.
After this tempest had subsided, I recollect the following particulars
of his conversation:--
'I am always for getting a boy forward in his learning; for that is a
sure good. I would let him at first read _any_ English book which
happens to engage his attention; because you have done a great deal when
you have brought him to have entertainment from a book. He'll get better
books afterwards[1170].'
'Mallet, I believe, never wrote a single line of his projected life of
the Duke of Marlborough.[1171] He groped for materials; and thought of
it, till he had exhausted his mind. Thus it sometimes happens that men
entangle themselves in their own schemes.'
'To be contradicted, in order to force you to talk, is mighty
unpleasing. You _shine_, indeed; but it is by being _ground_.'
Of a gentleman who made some figure among the _Literati_ of his time,
(Mr. Fitzherbert,)[1172] he said, 'What eminence he had was by a felicity
of manner; he had no more learning than what he could not help.'
On Saturday, April 24, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk's, with Sir
Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Jones, (afterwards Sir William,) Mr. Langton, Mr.
Steevens, Mr. Paradise, and Dr. Higgins. I mentioned that Mr. Wilkes had
attacked Garrick to me, as a man who had no friend. 'I believe he is
right, Sir. [Greek: _Oi philoi, ou philos_]--He had friends, but no
friend.[1173] Garrick was so diffused, he had no man to whom he wished to
unbosom himself. He found people always ready to applaud him, and that
always for the same thing: so he saw life with great uniformity.' I took
upon me, for once, to fight with Goliath's weapons, and play the
sophist.--'Garrick did not need a friend, as he got from every body all
he wanted. What is a friend? One who supports you and comforts you,
while others do not. Friendship, you know, Sir, is the cordial drop, "to
make the nauseous draught of life go down[1174]:" but if the draught be
not nauseous, if it be all sweet, there is no occasion for that drop.'
JOHNSON. 'Many men would not be content to live so. I hope I should not.
They would wish to have an intimate friend, with whom they might compare
minds, and cherish private virtues.' One of the company mentioned Lord
Chesterfield, as a man who had no friend. JOHNSON. 'There were more
materials to make friendship in Garrick, had he not been so diffused.'
BOSWELL. 'Garrick was pure gold, but beat out to thin leaf. Lord
Chesterfield was tinsel.' JOHNSON. 'Garrick was a very good man, the
cheerfullest man of his age;[1175] a decent liver in a profession which
is supposed to give indulgence to licentiousness; and a man who gave
away, freely, money acquired by himself. He began the world with a great
hunger for money; the son of a half-pay officer, bred in a family, whose
study was to make four-pence do as much as others made four-pence
halfpenny do. But, when he had got money, he was very liberal.'[1176] I
presumed to animadvert on his eulogy on Garrick, in his _Lives of the
Poets_.[1177] 'You say, Sir, his death eclipsed the gaiety of nations.'
[1178] JOHNSON. 'I could not have said more nor less. It is the truth;
_eclipsed_, not _extinguished_; and his death _did_ eclipse; it was like
a storm.' BOSWELL. 'But why nations? Did his gaiety extend farther than
his own nation?' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, some exaggeration must be
allowed.[1179] Besides, nations may be said--if we allow the Scotch to be
a nation, and to have gaiety,--which they have not. _You_ are an
exception, though. Come, gentlemen, let us candidly admit that there is
one Scotchman who is cheerful.' BEAUCLERK. 'But he is a very unnatural
Scotchman.' I, however, continued to think the compliment to Garrick
hyperbolically untrue. His acting had ceased some time before his death;
at any rate he had acted in Ireland but a short time, at an early period
of his life[1180], and never in Scotland. I objected also to what appears
an anticlimax of praise, when contrasted with the preceding
panegyrick,--'and diminished[1181] the public stock of harmless
pleasure!'--'Is not harmless pleasure very tame?' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir,
harmless pleasure is the highest praise. Pleasure is a word of dubious
import; pleasure is in general dangerous, and pernicious to virtue; to
be able therefore to furnish pleasure that is harmless, pleasure pure
and unalloyed, is as great a power as man can possess.' This was,
perhaps, as ingenious a defence as could be made; still, however, I was
not satisfied.
A celebrated wit[1182] being mentioned, he said, 'One may say of him as
was said of a French wit, _Il n'a de l'esprit que contre Dieu_. I have
been several times in company with him, but never perceived any strong
power of wit. He produces a general effect by various means; he has a
cheerful countenance and a gay voice. Besides his trade is wit. It would
be as wild in him to come into company without merriment, as for a
highwayman to take the road without his pistols.'
Talking of the effects of drinking, he said, 'Drinking may be practised
with great prudence; a man who exposes himself when he is intoxicated,
has not the art of getting drunk; a sober man who happens occasionally
to get drunk, readily enough goes into a new company, which a man who
has been drinking should never do. Such a man will undertake any thing;
he is without skill in inebriation. I used to slink home, when I had
drunk too much[1183]. A man accustomed to self-examination will be
conscious when he is drunk, though an habitual drunkard will not be
conscious of it. I knew a physician who for twenty years was not sober;
yet in a pamphlet, which he wrote upon fevers, he appealed to Garrick
and me for his vindication from a charge of drunkenness[1184]. A
bookseller (naming him) who got a large fortune by trade[1185], was so
habitually and equably drunk, that his most intimate friends never
perceived that he was more sober at one time than another.'
Talking of celebrated and successful irregular practisers in physick; he
said, 'Taylor[1186] was the most ignorant man I ever knew; but sprightly.
Ward[1187] the dullest. Taylor challenged me once to talk Latin with him;
(laughing). I quoted some of Horace, which he took to be a part of my
own speech. He said a few words well enough.' BEAUCLERK. 'I remember,
Sir, you said that Taylor was an instance how far impudence could carry
ignorance.' Mr. Beauclerk was very entertaining this day, and told us a
number of short stories in a lively elegant manner, and with that air of
_the world_ which has I know not what impressive effect, as if there
were something more than is expressed, or than perhaps we could
perfectly understand[1188]. As Johnson and I accompanied Sir Joshua
Reynolds in his coach, Johnson said, 'There is in Beauclerk a
predominance over his company, that one does not like. But he is a man
who has lived so much in the world, that he has a short story on every
occasion; he is always ready to talk, and is never exhausted.'
Johnson and I passed the evening at Miss Reynolds's, Sir Joshua's
sister. I mentioned that an eminent friend of ours[1189], talking of the
common remark, that affection descends, said, that 'this was wisely
contrived for the preservation of mankind; for which it was not so
necessary that there should be affection from children to parents, as
from parents to children; nay, there would be no harm in that view
though children should at a certain age eat their parents.' JOHNSON.
'But, Sir, if this were known generally to be the case, parents would
not have affection for children.' BOSWELL. 'True, Sir; for it is in
expectation of a return that parents are so attentive to their children;
and I know a very pretty instance of a little girl of whom her father
was very fond, who once when he was in a melancholy fit, and had gone to
bed, persuaded him to rise in good humour by saying, "My dear papa,
please to get up, and let me help you on with your clothes, that I may
learn to do it when you are an old man."'
Soon after this time a little incident occurred, which I will not
suppress, because I am desirous that my work should be, as much as is
consistent with the strictest truth, an antidote to the false and
injurious notions of his character, which have been given by others, and
therefore I infuse every drop of genuine sweetness into my biographical
cup.
'TO DR. JOHNSON.
'MY DEAR SIR,
'I am in great pain with an inflamed foot, and obliged to keep my bed,
so am prevented from having the pleasure to dine at Mr. Ramsay's to-day,
which is very hard; and my spirits are sadly sunk. Will you be so
friendly as to come and sit an hour with me in the evening.
'I am ever
'Your most faithful,
'And affectionate humble servant,
'JAMES BOSWELL.'
'South Audley-street[1190],
Monday, April 26.'
'TO MR. BOSWELL.
'Mr. Johnson laments the absence of Mr. Boswell, and will come to him.'
'Harley-street[1191].
He came to me in the evening, and brought Sir Joshua Reynolds. I need
scarcely say, that their conversation, while they sat by my bedside, was
the most pleasing opiate to pain that could have been administered[1192].
Johnson being now better disposed to obtain information concerning Pope
than he was last year[1193], sent by me to my Lord Marchmont a present
of those volumes of his _Lives of the Poets_ which were at this time
published, with a request to have permission to wait on him; and his
Lordship, who had called on him twice, obligingly appointed Saturday,
the first of May, for receiving us.
On that morning Johnson came to me from Streatham, and after drinking
chocolate, at General Paoli's, in South-Audley-street, we proceeded to
Lord Marchmont's in Curzon-street. His Lordship met us at the door of
his library, and with great politeness said to Johnson, 'I am not going
to make an encomium upon _myself_, by telling you the high respect I
have for _you_, Sir.' Johnson was exceedingly courteous; and the
interview, which lasted about two hours, during which the Earl
communicated his anecdotes of Pope, was as agreeable as I could have
wished[1194]. When we came out, I said to Johnson, that considering his
Lordship's civility, I should have been vexed if he had again failed to
come. 'Sir, (said he,) I would rather have given twenty pounds than not
have come.' I accompanied him to Streatham, where we dined, and returned
to town in the evening.
On Monday, May 3, I dined with him at Mr. Dilly's[1195]; I pressed him
this day for his opinion on the passage in Parnell, concerning which I
had in vain questioned him in several letters, and at length obtained it
in _due form of law_.
CASE for Dr. JOHNSON'S Opinion;
3rd of May, 1779.
'PARNELL, in his _Hermit_, has the following passage:
"To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight,
To find if _books_ and[1196] _swains_ report it right:
(For yet by _swains alone_ the world he knew,
Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew.)"
'Is there not a contradiction in its being _first_ supposed that the
_Hermit_ knew _both_ what books and swains reported of the world; yet
_afterwards_ said, that he knew it by swains _alone_?' 'I think it an
inaccuracy.--He mentions two instructors in the first line, and says he
had only one in the next.[1197].'
This evening I set out for Scotland.
'To MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
'DEAR MADAM,
'Mr. Green has informed me that you are much better; I hope I need not
tell you that I am glad of it. I cannot boast of being much better; my
old nocturnal complaint still pursues me, and my respiration is
difficult, though much easier than when I left you the summer before
last. Mr. and Mrs. Thrale are well; Miss has been a little indisposed;
but she is got well again. They have since the loss of their boy had two
daughters; but they seem likely to want a son.
'I hope you had some books which I sent you. I was sorry for poor Mrs.
Adey's death, and am afraid you will be sometimes solitary; but
endeavour, whether alone or in company, to keep yourself cheerful. My
friends likewise die very fast; but such is the state of man.
'I am, dear love,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 4, 1779.'
He had, before I left London, resumed the conversation concerning the
appearance of a ghost at Newcastle upon Tyne, which Mr. John Wesley
believed, but to which Johnson did not give credit[1198]. I was, however,
desirous to examine the question closely, and at the same time wished to
be made acquainted with Mr. John Wesley; for though I differed from him
in some points, I admired his various talents, and loved his pious zeal.
At my request, therefore, Dr. Johnson gave me a letter of introduction
to him.
'To THE REVEREND MR. JOHN WESLEY.