The Honourable Thomas Hervey and his lady having unhappily disagreed,
and being about to separate, Johnson interfered as their friend, and
wrote him a letter of expostulation, which I have not been able to find;
but the substance of it is ascertained by a letter to Johnson in answer
to it, which Mr. Hervey printed. The occasion of this correspondence
between Dr. Johnson and Mr. Harvey, was thus related to me by Mr.
Beauclerk. 'Tom Harvey had a great liking for Johnson, and in his will
had left him a legacy of fifty pounds. One day he said to me, "Johnson
may want this money now, more than afterwards. I have a mind to give it
him directly. Will you be so good as to carry a fifty pound note from
me to him?" This I positively refused to do, as he might, perhaps, have
knocked me down for insulting him, and have afterwards put the note in
his pocket. But I said, if Harvey would write him a letter, and enclose
a fifty pound note, I should take care to deliver it. He accordingly did
write him a letter, mentioning that he was only paying a legacy a little
sooner. To his letter he added, "P. S. I am going to part with my wife."
Johnson then wrote to him, saying nothing of the note, but remonstrating
with him against parting with his wife.'
In February, 1767, there happened one of the most remarkable incidents
of Johnson's life, which gratified his monarchical enthusiasm, and which
he loved to relate with all its circumstances, when requested by his
friends. This was his being honoured by a private conversation with his
Majesty, in the library at the Queen's house. He had frequently visited
those splendid rooms and noble collection of books, which he used to
say was more numerous and curious than he supposed any person could
have made in the time which the King had employed. Mr. Barnard, the
librarian, took care that he should have every accommodation that could
contribute to his ease and convenience, while indulging his literary
taste in that place; so that he had here a very agreeable resource at
leisure hours.
His Majesty having been informed of his occasional visits, was pleased
to signify a desire that he should be told when Dr. Johnson came next to
the library. Accordingly, the next time that Johnson did come, as soon
as he was fairly engaged with a book, on which, while he sat by the
fire, he seemed quite intent, Mr. Barnard stole round to the apartment
where the King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's commands,
mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the library. His Majesty said he
was at leisure, and would go to him; upon which Mr. Barnard took one
of the candles that stood on the King's table, and lighted his Majesty
through a suite of rooms, till they came to a private door into the
library, of which his Majesty had the key. Being entered, Mr. Barnard
stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, who was still in a profound
study, and whispered him, 'Sir, here is the King.' Johnson started up,
and stood still. His Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously
easy.
His Majesty began by observing, that he understood he came sometimes to
the library; and then mentioning his having heard that the Doctor had
been lately at Oxford, asked him if he was not fond of going thither.
To which Johnson answered, that he was indeed fond of going to Oxford
sometimes, but was likewise glad to come back again. The King then asked
him what they were doing at Oxford. Johnson answered, he could not much
commend their diligence, but that in some respects they were mended, for
they had put their press under better regulations, and were at that time
printing Polybius. He was then asked whether there were better libraries
at Oxford or Cambridge. He answered, he believed the Bodleian was
larger than any they had at Cambridge; at the same time adding, 'I hope,
whether we have more books or not than they have at Cambridge, we shall
make as good use of them as they do.' Being asked whether All-Souls or
Christ-Church library was the largest, he answered, 'All-Souls library
is the largest we have, except the Bodleian.' 'Aye, (said the King,)
that is the publick library.'
His Majesty enquired if he was then writing any thing. He answered, he
was not, for he had pretty well told the world what he knew, and must
now read to acquire more knowledge. The King, as it should seem with a
view to urge him to rely on his own stores as an original writer, and to
continue his labours, then said 'I do not think you borrow much from
any body.' Johnson said, he thought he had already done his part as a
writer. 'I should have thought so too, (said the King,) if you had not
written so well.'--Johnson observed to me, upon this, that 'No man could
have paid a handsomer compliment; and it was fit for a King to pay. It
was decisive.' When asked by another friend, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's,
whether he made any reply to this high compliment, he answered, 'No,
Sir. When the King had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to
bandy civilities with my Sovereign.' Perhaps no man who had spent his
whole life in courts could have shewn a more nice and dignified sense of
true politeness, than Johnson did in this instance.
His Majesty having observed to him that he supposed he must have read a
great deal; Johnson answered, that he thought more than he read; that he
had read a great deal in the early part of his life, but having fallen
into ill health, he had not been able to read much, compared with
others: for instance, he said he had not read much, compared with Dr.
Warburton. Upon which the King said, that he heard Dr. Warburton was a
man of such general knowledge, that you could scarce talk with him
on any subject on which he was not qualified to speak; and that his
learning resembled Garrick's acting, in its universality. His Majesty
then talked of the controversy between Warburton and Lowth, which he
seemed to have read, and asked Johnson what he thought of it. Johnson
answered, 'Warburton has most general, most scholastick learning; Lowth
is the more correct scholar. I do not know which of them calls names
best.' The King was pleased to say he was of the same opinion; adding,
'You do not think, then, Dr. Johnson, that there was much argument in
the case.' Johnson said, he did not think there was. 'Why truly, (said
the King,) when once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty well
at an end.'
His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord Lyttelton's History,
which was then just published. Johnson said, he thought his style pretty
good, but that he had blamed Henry the Second rather too much. 'Why,
(said the King,) they seldom do these things by halves.' 'No, Sir,
(answered Johnson,) not to Kings.' But fearing to be misunderstood, he
proceeded to explain himself; and immediately subjoined, 'That for those
who spoke worse of Kings than they deserved, he could find no excuse;
but that he could more easily conceive how some might speak better of
them than they deserved, without any ill intention; for, as Kings had
much in their power to give, those who were favoured by them would
frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their praises; and as this
proceeded from a good motive, it was certainly excusable, as far as
errour could be excusable.'
The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill. Johnson answered,
that he was an ingenious man, but had no veracity; and immediately
mentioned, as an instance of it, an assertion of that writer, that he
had seen objects magnified to a much greater degree by using three or
four microscopes at a time, than by using one. 'Now, (added Johnson,)
every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the more of them he
looks through, the less the object will appear.' 'Why, (replied the
King,) this is not only telling an untruth, but telling it clumsily;
for, if that be the case, every one who can look through a microscope
will be able to detect him.'
'I now, (said Johnson to his friends, when relating what had passed)
began to consider that I was depreciating this man in the estimation
of his Sovereign, and thought it was time for me to say something that
might be more favourable.' He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was,
notwithstanding, a very curious observer; and if he would have been
contented to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been
a very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse to such mean
expedients to raise his reputation.
The King then talked of literary journals, mentioned particularly the
Journal des Savans, and asked Johnson if it was well done. Johnson said,
it was formerly very well done, and gave some account of the persons who
began it, and carried it on for some years; enlarging, at the same time,
on the nature and use of such works. The King asked him if it was well
done now. Johnson answered, he had no reason to think that it was. The
King then asked him if there were any other literary journals published
in this kingdom, except the Monthly and Critical Reviews; and on being
answered there were no other, his Majesty asked which of them was the
best: Johnson answered, that the Monthly Review was done with most care,
the Critical upon the best principles; adding that the authours of the
Monthly Review were enemies to the Church. This the King said he was
sorry to hear.
The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Transactions, when
Johnson observed, that they had now a better method of arranging their
materials than formerly. 'Aye, (said the King,) they are obliged to
Dr. Johnson for that;' for his Majesty had heard and remembered the
circumstance, which Johnson himself had forgot.
His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biography of this
country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. Johnson to undertake it.
Johnson signified his readiness to comply with his Majesty's wishes.
During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked to his Majesty with
profound respect, but still in his firm manly manner, with a sonorous
voice, and never in that subdued tone which is commonly used at the
levee and in the drawing-room. After the King withdrew, Johnson shewed
himself highly pleased with his Majesty's conversation, and gracious
behaviour. He said to Mr. Barnard, 'Sir, they may talk of the King as
they will; but he is the finest gentleman I have ever seen.' And he
afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, 'Sir, his manners are those of as
fine a gentleman as we may suppose Lewis the Fourteenth or Charles the
Second.'
At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of Johnson's friends was
collected round him to hear his account of this memorable conversation,
Dr. Joseph Warton, in his frank and lively manner, was very active in
pressing him to mention the particulars. 'Come now, Sir, this is an
interesting matter; do favour us with it.' Johnson, with great good
humour, complied.
He told them, 'I found his Majesty wished I should talk, and I made it
my business to talk. I find it does a man good to be talked to by his
Sovereign. In the first place, a man cannot be in a passion--.' Here
some question interrupted him, which is to be regretted, as he certainly
would have pointed out and illustrated many circumstances of advantage,
from being in a situation, where the powers of the mind are at once
excited to vigorous exertion, and tempered by reverential awe.
During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed in relating to the
circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particulars of what passed between
the King and him, Dr. Goldsmith remained unmoved upon a sopha at some
distance, affecting not to join in the least in the eager curiosity
of the company. He assigned as a reason for his gloom and seeming
inattention, that he apprehended Johnson had relinquished his purpose of
furnishing him with a Prologue to his play, with the hopes of which he
had been flattered; but it was strongly suspected that he was fretting
with chagrin and envy at the singular honour Dr. Johnson had lately
enjoyed. At length, the frankness and simplicity of his natural
character prevailed. He sprung from the sopha, advanced to Johnson, and
in a kind of flutter, from imagining himself in the situation which
he had just been hearing described, exclaimed, 'Well, you acquitted
yourself in this conversation better than I should have done; for I
should have bowed and stammered through the whole of it.'
His diary affords no light as to his employment at this time. He passed
three months at Lichfield; and I cannot omit an affecting and solemn
scene there, as related by himself:--
'Sunday, Oct. 18, 1767. Yesterday, Oct. 17, at about ten in the morning,
I took my leave for ever of my dear old friend, Catharine Chambers, who
came to live with my mother about 1724, and has been but little parted
from us since. She buried my father, my brother, and my mother. She is
now fifty-eight years old.
'I desired all to withdraw, then told her that we were to part for ever;
that as Christians, we should part with prayer; and that I would, if she
was willing, say a short prayer beside her. She expressed great desire
to hear me; and held up her poor hands, as she lay in bed, with great
fervour, while I prayed, kneeling by her, nearly in the following words:
'Almighty and most merciful Father, whose loving kindness is over all
thy works, behold, visit, and relieve this thy servant, who is grieved
with sickness. Grant that the sense of her weakness may add strength to
her faith, and seriousness to her repentance. And grant that by the help
of thy Holy Spirit, after the pains and labours of this short life, we
may all obtain everlasting happiness, through JESUS CHRIST our Lord; for
whose sake hear our prayers. Amen. Our Father, &c.
'I then kissed her. She told me, that to part was the greatest pain that
she had ever felt, and that she hoped we should meet again in a better
place. I expressed, with swelled eyes, and great emotion of tenderness,
the same hopes. We kissed, and parted. I humbly hope to meet again, and
to part no more.'
1768: AETAT. 59]--It appears from his notes of the state of his mind,
that he suffered great perturbation and distraction in 1768. Nothing of
his writing was given to the publick this year, except the Prologue to
his friend Goldsmith's comedy of The Good-natured Man. The first lines
of this Prologue are strongly characteristical of the dismal gloom of
his mind; which in his case, as in the case of all who are distressed
with the same malady of imagination, transfers to others its own
feelings. Who could suppose it was to introduce a comedy, when Mr.
Bensley solemnly began,
'Press'd with the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the general toil of human kind.'
But this dark ground might make Goldsmith's humour shine the more.
In the spring of this year, having published my Account of Corsica,
with the Journal of a Tour to that Island, I returned to London, very
desirous to see Dr. Johnson, and hear him upon the subject. I found
he was at Oxford, with his friend Mr. Chambers, who was now Vinerian
Professor, and lived in New Inn Hall. Having had no letter from him
since that in which he criticised the Latinity of my Thesis, and having
been told by somebody that he was offended at my having put into my Book
an extract of his letter to me at Paris, I was impatient to be with him,
and therefore followed him to Oxford, where I was entertained by Mr.
Chambers, with a civility which I shall ever gratefully remember. I
found that Dr. Johnson had sent a letter to me to Scotland, and that I
had nothing to complain of but his being more indifferent to my anxiety
than I wished him to be. Instead of giving, with the circumstances of
time and place, such fragments of his conversation as I preserved during
this visit to Oxford, I shall throw them together in continuation.
Talking of some of the modern plays, he said False Delicacy was totally
void of character. He praised Goldsmith's Good-natured Man; said, it was
the best comedy that had appeared since The Provoked Husband, and that
there had not been of late any such character exhibited on the stage
as that of Croaker. I observed it was the Suspirius of his Rambler.
He said, Goldsmith had owned he had borrowed it from thence. 'Sir,
(continued he,) there is all the difference in the world between
characters of nature and characters of manners; and THERE is the
difference between the characters of Fielding and those of Richardson.
Characters of manners are very entertaining; but they are to be
understood by a more superficial observer than characters of nature,
where a man must dive into the recesses of the human heart.'
It always appeared to me that he estimated the compositions of
Richardson too highly, and that he had an unreasonable prejudice against
Fielding. In comparing those two writers, he used this expression: 'that
there was as great a difference between them as between a man who knew
how a watch was made, and a man who could tell the hour by looking on
the dial-plate.'
'I have not been troubled for a long time with authours desiring my
opinion of their works. I used once to be sadly plagued with a man who
wrote verses, but who literally had no other notion of a verse, but that
it consisted of ten syllables. Lay your knife and your fork, across your
plate, was to him a verse:
Lay your knife and your fork, across your plate.
As he wrote a great number of verses, he sometimes by chance made good
ones, though he did not know it.'
Johnson expatiated on the advantages of Oxford for learning. 'There is
here, Sir, (said he,) such a progressive emulation. The students are
anxious to appear well to their tutors; the tutors are anxious to have
their pupils appear well in the college; the colleges are anxious
to have their students appear well in the University; and there are
excellent rules of discipline in every college. That the rules are
sometimes ill observed, may be true; but is nothing against the system.
The members of an University may, for a season, be unmindful of their
duty. I am arguing for the excellency of the institution.'
He said he had lately been a long while at Lichfield, but had grown very
weary before he left it. BOSWELL. 'I wonder at that, Sir; it is your
native place.' JOHNSON. 'Why, so is Scotland YOUR native place.'
His prejudice against Scotland appeared remarkably strong at this time.
When I talked of our advancement in literature, 'Sir, (said he,) you
have learnt a little from us, and you think yourselves very great men.
Hume would never have written History, had not Voltaire written it
before him. He is an echo of Voltaire.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, we have Lord
Kames.' JOHNSON. 'You HAVE Lord Kames. Keep him; ha, ha, ha! We don't
envy you him. Do you ever see Dr. Robertson?' BOSWELL. 'Yes, Sir.'
JOHNSON. 'Does the dog talk of me?' BOSWELL. 'Indeed, Sir, he does,
and loves you.' Thinking that I now had him in a corner, and being
solicitous for the literary fame of my country, I pressed him for his
opinion on the merit of Dr. Robertson's History of Scotland. But, to my
surprize, he escaped.--'Sir, I love Robertson, and I won't talk of his
book.'
An essay, written by Mr. Deane, a divine of the Church of England,
maintaining the future life of brutes, by an explication of certain
parts of the scriptures, was mentioned, and the doctrine insisted on by
a gentleman who seemed fond of curious speculation. Johnson, who did
not like to hear of any thing concerning a future state which was not
authorised by the regular canons of orthodoxy, discouraged this talk;
and being offended at its continuation, he watched an opportunity
to give the gentleman a blow of reprehension. So, when the poor
speculatist, with a serious metaphysical pensive face, addressed him,
'But really, Sir, when we see a very sensible dog, we don't know what to
think of him;' Johnson, rolling with joy at the thought which beamed in
his eye, turned quickly round, and replied, 'True, Sir: and when we see
a very foolish FELLOW, we don't know what to think of HIM.' He then rose
up, strided to the fire, and stood for some time laughing and exulting.
I asked him if it was not hard that one deviation from chastity should
so absolutely ruin a young woman. Johnson. 'Why, no, Sir; it is
the great principle which she is taught. When she has given up that
principle, she has given up every notion of female honour and virtue,
which are all included in chastity.'
A gentleman talked to him of a lady whom he greatly admired and wished
to marry, but was afraid of her superiority of talents. 'Sir, (said he,)
you need not be afraid; marry her. Before a year goes about, you'll find
that reason much weaker, and that wit not so bright.' Yet the gentleman
may be justified in his apprehension by one of Dr. Johnson's admirable
sentences in his life of Waller: 'He doubtless praised many whom he
would have been afraid to marry; and, perhaps, married one whom he
would have been ashamed to praise. Many qualities contribute to domestic
happiness, upon which poetry has no colours to bestow; and many airs and
sallies may delight imagination, which he who flatters them never can
approve.'
He praised Signor Baretti. 'His account of Italy is a very entertaining
book; and, Sir, I know no man who carries his head higher in
conversation than Baretti. There are strong powers in his mind. He has
not, indeed, many hooks; but with what hooks he has, he grapples very
forcibly.'
At this time I observed upon the dial-plate of his watch a short Greek
inscription, taken from the New Testament, [Greek text omitted], being
the first words of our SAVIOUR'S solemn admonition to the improvement of
that time which is allowed us to prepare for eternity: 'the night
cometh when no man can work.' He sometime afterwards laid aside this
dial-plate; and when I asked him the reason, he said, 'It might do very
well upon a clock which a man keeps in his closet; but to have it upon
his watch which he carries about with him, and which is often looked
at by others, might be censured as ostentatious.' Mr. Steevens is now
possessed of the dial-plate inscribed as above.
He remained at Oxford a considerable time; I was obliged to go to
London, where I received his letter, which had been returned from
Scotland.
'TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'MY DEAR BOSWELL,--I have omitted a long time to write to you, without
knowing very well why. I could now tell why I should not write; for who
would write to men who publish the letters of their friends, without
their leave? Yet I write to you in spite of my caution, to tell you that
I shall be glad to see you, and that I wish you would empty your head
of Corsica, which I think has filled it rather too long. But, at
all events, I shall be glad, very glad to see you. I am, Sir, yours
affectionately,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'Oxford, March 23, 1768.'
Upon his arrival in London in May, he surprized me one morning with a
visit at my lodgings in Half-Moon-street, was quite satisfied with my
explanation, and was in the kindest and most agreeable frame of mind.
As he had objected to a part of one of his letters being published,
I thought it right to take this opportunity of asking him explicitly
whether it would be improper to publish his letters after his death. His
answer was, 'Nay, Sir, when I am dead, you may do as you will.'
He talked in his usual style with a rough contempt of popular liberty.
'They make a rout about UNIVERSAL liberty, without considering that
all that is to be valued, or indeed can be enjoyed by individuals, is
PRIVATE liberty. Political liberty is good only so far as it produces
private liberty. Now, Sir, there is the liberty of the press, which you
know is a constant topick. Suppose you and I and two hundred more were
restrained from printing our thoughts: what then? What proportion would
that restraint upon us bear to the private happiness of the nation?'
This mode of representing the inconveniences of restraint as light and
insignificant, was a kind of sophistry in which he delighted to indulge
himself, in opposition to the extreme laxity for which it has been
fashionable for too many to argue, when it is evident, upon reflection,
that the very essence of government is restraint; and certain it is,
that as government produces rational happiness, too much restraint is
better than too little. But when restraint is unnecessary, and so close
as to gall those who are subject to it, the people may and ought to
remonstrate; and, if relief is not granted, to resist. Of this manly and
spirited principle, no man was more convinced than Johnson himself.
His sincere regard for Francis Barber, his faithful negro servant, made
him so desirous of his further improvement, that he now placed him at a
school at Bishop Stortford, in Hertfordshire. This humane attention
does Johnson's heart much honour. Out of many letters which Mr. Barber
received from his master, he has preserved three, which he kindly gave
me, and which I shall insert according to their dates.
'TO MR. FRANCIS BARBER.
'DEAR FRANCIS,--I have been very much out of order. I am glad to hear
that you are well, and design to come soon to see you. I would have you
stay at Mrs. Clapp's for the present, till I can determine what we shall
do. Be a good boy.
'My compliments to Mrs. Clapp and to Mr. Fowler. I am, your's
affectionately,