'MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
'Edinburgh, Feb. 2,1775.
'. . . As to Macpherson,' I am anxious to have from yourself a full
and pointed account of what has passed between you and him. It is
confidently told here, that before your book came out he sent to you,
to let you know that he understood you meant to deny the authenticity
of Ossian's poems; that the originals were in his possession; that you
might have inspection of them, and might take the evidence of people
skilled in the Erse language; and that he hoped, after this fair offer,
you would not be so uncandid as to assert that he had refused reasonable
proof. That you paid no regard to his message, but published your strong
attack upon him; and then he wrote a letter to you, in such terms as he
thought suited to one who had not acted as a man of veracity.' . . .
What words were used by Mr. Macpherson in his letter to the venerable
Sage, I have never heard; but they are generally said to have been of
a nature very different from the language of literary contest. Dr.
Johnson's answer appeared in the news-papers of the day, and has since
been frequently re-published; but not with perfect accuracy. I give
it as dictated to me by himself, written down in his presence, and
authenticated by a note in his own handwriting, 'This, I think, is a
true copy.'
'MR. JAMES MACPHERSON,--I received your foolish and impudent letter. Any
violence offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do
for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be deterred
from detecting what I think a cheat, by the menaces of a ruffian.
'What would you have me retract? I thought your book an imposture; I
think it an imposture still. For this opinion I have given my reasons
to the publick, which I here dare you to refute. Your rage I defy. Your
abilities, since your Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of
your morals, inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, but to
what you shall prove. You may print this if you will.'
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
Mr. Macpherson little knew the character of Dr. Johnson, if he supposed
that he could be easily intimidated; for no man was ever more remarkable
for personal courage. He had, indeed, an aweful dread of death, or
rather, 'of something after death;' and what rational man, who seriously
thinks of quitting all that he has ever known, and going into a new and
unknown state of being, can be without that dread? But his fear was from
reflection; his courage natural. His fear, in that one instance, was the
result of philosophical and religious consideration. He feared death,
but he feared nothing else, not even what might occasion death.
Many instances of his resolution may be mentioned. One day, at Mr.
Beauclerk's house in the country, when two large dogs were fighting, he
went up to them, and beat them till they separated; and at another time,
when told of the danger there was that a gun might burst if charged with
many balls, he put in six or seven, and fired it off against a wall. Mr.
Langton told me, that when they were swimming together near Oxford, he
cautioned Dr. Johnson against a pool, which was reckoned particularly
dangerous; upon which Johnson directly swam into it. He told me himself
that one night he was attacked in the street by four men, to whom he
would not yield, but kept them all at bay, till the watch came up,
and carried both him and them to the round-house. In the playhouse
at Lichfield, as Mr. Garrick informed me, Johnson having for a moment
quitted a chair which was placed for him between the side-scenes, a
gentleman took possession of it, and when Johnson on his return civilly
demanded his seat, rudely refused to give it up; upon which Johnson laid
hold of it, and tossed him and the chair into the pit. Foote, who so
successfully revived the old comedy, by exhibiting living characters,
had resolved to imitate Johnson on the stage, expecting great profits
from his ridicule of so celebrated a man. Johnson being informed of his
intention, and being at dinner at Mr. Thomas Davies's the bookseller,
from whom I had the story, he asked Mr. Davies 'what was the common
price of an oak stick;' and being answered six-pence, 'Why then, Sir,
(said he,) give me leave to send your servant to purchase me a shilling
one. I'll have a double quantity; for I am told Foote means to take me
off, as he calls it, and I am determined the fellow shall not do it with
impunity. Davies took care to acquaint Foote of this, which effectually
checked the wantonness of the mimick. Mr. Macpherson's menaces made
Johnson provide himself with the same implement of defence; and had he
been attacked, I have no doubt that, old as he was, he would have made
his corporal prowess be felt as much as his intellectual.
His Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland is a most valuable
performance. Johnson's grateful acknowledgements of kindnesses received
in the course of this tour, completely refute the brutal reflections
which have been thrown out against him, as if he had made an ungrateful
return; and his delicacy in sparing in his book those who we find from
his letters to Mrs. Thrale were just objects of censure, is much to be
admired. His candour and amiable disposition is conspicuous from his
conduct, when informed by Mr. Macleod, of Rasay, that he had committed
a mistake, which gave that gentleman some uneasiness. He wrote him
a courteous and kind letter, and inserted in the news-papers an
advertisement, correcting the mistake.
As to his prejudice against the Scotch, which I always ascribed to that
nationality which he observed in THEM, he said to the same gentleman,
'When I find a Scotchman, to whom an Englishman is as a Scotchman,
that Scotchman shall be as an Englishman to me.' His intimacy with many
gentlemen of Scotland, and his employing so many natives of that country
as his amanuenses, prove that his prejudice was not virulent; and I have
deposited in the British Museum, amongst other pieces of his writing,
the following note in answer to one from me, asking if he would meet me
at dinner at the Mitre, though a friend of mine, a Scotchman, was to be
there:--
'Mr. Johnson does not see why Mr. Boswell should suppose a Scotchman
less acceptable than any other man. He will be at the Mitre.'
My much-valued friend Dr. Barnard, now Bishop of Killaloc, having once
expressed to him an apprehension, that if he should visit Ireland he
might treat the people of that country more unfavourably than he had
done the Scotch, he answered, with strong pointed double-edged wit,
'Sir, you have no reason to be afraid of me. The Irish are not in a
conspiracy to cheat the world by false representations of the merits
of their countrymen. No, Sir; the Irish are a FAIR PEOPLE;--they never
speak well of one another.'
All the miserable cavillings against his Journey, in newspapers,
magazines, and other fugitive publications, I can speak from certain
knowledge, only furnished him with sport. At last there came out a
scurrilous volume, larger than Johnson's own, filled with malignant
abuse, under a name, real or fictitious, of some low man in an obscure
corner of Scotland, though supposed to be the work of another Scotchman,
who has found means to make himself well known both in Scotland and
England. The effect which it had upon Johnson was, to produce this
pleasant observation to Mr. Seward, to whom he lent the book: 'This
fellow must be a blockhead. They don't know how to go about their abuse.
Who will read a five-shilling book against me? No, Sir, if they had wit,
they should have kept pelting me with pamphlets.'
On Tuesday, March 21, I arrived in London; and on repairing to Dr.
Johnson's before dinner, found him in his study, sitting with Mr.
Peter Garrick, the elder brother of David, strongly resembling him in
countenance and voice, but of more sedate and placid manners. Johnson
informed me, that 'though Mr. Beauclerk was in great pain, it was hoped
he was not in danger, and that he now wished to consult Dr. Heberden to
try the effect of a NEW UNDERSTANDING.' Both at this interview, and in
the evening at Mr. Thrale's where he and Mr. Peter Garrick and I
met again, he was vehement on the subject of the Ossian controversy;
observing, 'We do not know that there are any ancient Erse manuscripts;
and we have no other reason to disbelieve that there are men with three
heads, but that we do not know that there are any such men.' He also
was outrageous upon his supposition that my countrymen 'loved Scotland
better than truth,' saying, 'All of them,--nay not all,--but DROVES of
them, would come up, and attest any thing for the honour of Scotland.'
He also persevered in his wild allegation, that he questioned if there
was a tree between Edinburgh and the English border older than himself.
I assured him he was mistaken, and suggested that the proper punishment
would be that he should receive a stripe at every tree above a hundred
years old, that was found within that space. He laughed, and said, 'I
believe I might submit to it for a BAUBEE!'
The doubts which, in my correspondence with him, I had ventured to state
as to the justice and wisdom of the conduct of Great-Britain towards
the American colonies, while I at the same time requested that he
would enable me to inform myself upon that momentous subject, he had
altogether disregarded; and had recently published a pamphlet, entitled,
Taxation no Tyranny; an answer to the Resolutions and Address of the
American Congress.
He had long before indulged most unfavourable sentiments of our
fellow-subjects in America. For, as early as 1769, I was told by Dr.
John Campbell, that he had said of them, 'Sir, they are a race of
convicts, and ought to be thankful for any thing we allow them short of
hanging.'
Of this performance I avoided to talk with him; for I had now formed
a clear and settled opinion, that the people of America were well
warranted to resist a claim that their fellow-subjects in the
mother-country should have the entire command of their fortunes, by
taxing them without their own consent; and the extreme violence which
it breathed, appeared to me so unsuitable to the mildness of a christian
philosopher, and so directly opposite to the principles of peace which
he had so beautifully recommended in his pamphlet respecting Falkland's
Islands, that I was sorry to see him appear in so unfavourable a light.
On Friday, March 24, I met him at the LITERARY CLUB, where were Mr.
Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Mr. Colman, Dr. Percy, Mr. Vesey, Sir Charles
Bunbury, Dr. George Fordyce, Mr. Steevens, and Mr. Charles Fox. Before
he came in, we talked of his Journey to the Western Islands, and of
his coming away 'willing to believe the second sight,' which seemed to
excite some ridicule. I was then so impressed with the truth of many of
the stories of it which I had been told, that I avowed my conviction,
saying, 'He is only WILLING to believe: I DO believe. The evidence is
enough for me, though not for his great mind. What will not fill a quart
bottle will fill a pint bottle. I am filled with belief.' 'Are you?
(said Colman,) then cork it up.'
I found his Journey the common topick of conversation in London at
this time, wherever I happened to be. At one of Lord Mansfield's formal
Sunday evening conversations, strangely called Levees, his Lordship
addressed me, 'We have all been reading your travels, Mr. Boswell.' I
answered, 'I was but the humble attendant of Dr. Johnson.' The Chief
Justice replied, with that air and manner which none, who ever saw and
heard him, can forget, 'He speaks ill of nobody but Ossian.'
Johnson was in high spirits this evening at the club, and talked with
great animation and success. He attacked Swift, as he used to do upon
all occasions. The Tale of a Tub is so much superiour to his other
writings, that one can hardly believe he was the authour of it: 'there
is in it such a vigour of mind, such a swarm of thoughts, so much of
nature, and art, and life.' I wondered to hear him say of Gulliver's
Travels, 'When once you have thought of big men and little men, it is
very easy to do all the rest.' I endeavoured to make a stand for Swift,
and tried to rouse those who were much more able to defend him; but in
vain. Johnson at last, of his own accord, allowed very great merit
to the inventory of articles found in the pocket of the Man Mountain,
particularly the description of his watch, which it was conjectured was
his God; as he consulted it upon all occasions. He observed, that 'Swift
put his name to but two things, (after he had a name to put,) The Plan
for the Improvement of the English Language, and the last Drapier's
Letter.'
From Swift, there was an easy transition to Mr. Thomas
Sheridan--JOHNSON. 'Sheridan is a wonderful admirer of the tragedy of
Douglas, and presented its authour with a gold medal. Some years ago, at
a coffee-house in Oxford, I called to him, "Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Sheridan,
how came you to give a gold medal to Home, for writing that foolish
play?" This you see, was wanton and insolent; but I MEANT to be wanton
and insolent. A medal has no value but as a stamp of merit. And was
Sheridan to assume to himself the right of giving that stamp? If
Sheridan was magnificent enough to bestow a gold medal as an honorary
reward of dramatick excellence, he should have requested one of the
Universities to choose the person on whom it should be conferred.
Sheridan had no right to give a stamp of merit: it was counterfeiting
Apollo's coin.'
On Monday, March 27, I breakfasted with him at Mr Strahan's. He told us,
that he was engaged to go that evening to Mrs. Abington's benefit. 'She
was visiting some ladies whom I was visiting, and begged that I would
come to her benefit. I told her I could not hear: but she insisted so
much on my coming, that it would have been brutal to have refused her.'
This was a speech quite characteristical. He loved to bring forward his
having been in the gay circles of life; and he was, perhaps, a little
vain of the solicitations of this elegant and fashionable actress. He
told us, the play was to be the The Hypocrite, altered from Cibber's
Nonjuror, so as to satirize the Methodists. 'I do not think (said he,)
the character of The Hypocrite justly applicable to the Methodists, but
it was very applicable to the Nonjurors.'
Mr. Strahan had taken a poor boy from the country as an apprentice, upon
Johnson's recommendation. Johnson having enquired after him, said, 'Mr.
Strahan, let me have five guineas on account, and I'll give this boy
one. Nay if a man recommends a boy, and does nothing for him, it is sad
work. Call him down.'
I followed him into the court-yard, behind Mr. Strahan's house; and
there I had a proof of what I had heard him profess, that he talked
alike to all. 'Some people tell you that they let themselves down to
the capacity of their hearers. I never do that. I speak uniformly, in as
intelligible a manner as I can.'
'Well, my boy, how do you go on?'--'Pretty well, Sir; but they are
afraid I an't strong enough for some parts of the business.' JOHNSON.
'Why, I shall be sorry for it; for when you consider with how little
mental power and corporeal labour a printer can get a guinea a week, it
is a very desirable occupation for you. Do you hear,--take all the pains
you can; and if this does not do, we must think of some other way of
life for you. There's a guinea.'
Here was one of the many, many instances of his active benevolence. At
the same time, the slow and sonorous solemnity with which, while he bent
himself down, he addressed a little thick short-legged boy, contrasted
with the boy's aukwardness and awe, could not but excite some ludicrous
emotions.
I met him at Drury-lane play-house in the evening. Sir Joshua Reynolds,
at Mrs. Abington's request, had promised to bring a body of wits to her
benefit; and having secured forty places in the front boxes, had done
me the honour to put me in the group. Johnson sat on the seat directly
behind me; and as he could neither see nor hear at such a distance from
the stage, he was wrapped up in grave abstraction, and seemed quite a
cloud, amidst all the sunshine of glitter and gaiety. I wondered at his
patience in sitting out a play of five acts, and a farce of two. He said
very little; but after the prologue to Bon Ton had been spoken, which
he could hear pretty well from the more slow and distinct utterance, he
talked of prologue-writing, and observed, 'Dryden has written prologues
superiour to any that David Garrick has written; but David Garrick has
written more good prologues than Dryden has done. It is wonderful that
he has been able to write such variety of them.'
At Mr. Beauclerk's, where I supped, was Mr. Garrick, whom I made happy
with Johnson's praise of his prologues; and I suppose, in gratitude to
him, he took up one of his favourite topicks, the nationality of the
Scotch, which he maintained in a pleasant manner, with the aid of a
little poetical fiction. 'Come, come, don't deny it: they are really
national. Why, now, the Adams are as liberal-minded men as any in the
world: but, I don't know how it is, all their workmen are Scotch. You
are, to be sure, wonderfully free from that nationality: but so it
happens, that you employ the only Scotch shoe-black in London.' He
imitated the manner of his old master with ludicrous exaggeration;
repeating, with pauses and half-whistlings interjected,
'Os homini sublime dedit,--caelumque tueri
Jussit,--et erectos ad sidera--tollere vultus';
looking downwards all the time, and, while pronouncing the four
last words, absolutely touching the ground with a kind of contorted
gesticulation.
Garrick, however, when he pleased, could imitate Johnson very exactly;
for that great actor, with his distinguished powers of expression which
were so universally admired, possessed also an admirable talent of
mimickry. He was always jealous that Johnson spoke lightly of him. I
recollect his exhibiting him to me one day, as if saying, 'Davy has
some convivial pleasantry about him, but 'tis a futile fellow;' which he
uttered perfectly with the tone and air of Johnson.
I cannot too frequently request of my readers, while they peruse my
account of Johnson's conversation, to endeavour to keep in mind his
deliberate and strong utterance. His mode of speaking was indeed very
impressive; and I wish it could be preserved as musick is written,
according to the very ingenious method of Mr. Steele, who has shewn
how the recitation of Mr. Garrick, and other eminent speakers, might be
transmitted to posterity IN SCORE.
Next day I dined with Johnson at Mr. Thrale's. He attacked Gray, calling
him 'a dull fellow.' BOSWELL. 'I understand he was reserved, and might
appear dull in company; but surely he was not dull in poetry.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull every where. He
was dull in a new way, and that made many people think him GREAT. He was
a mechanical poet.' He then repeated some ludicrous lines, which have
escaped my memory, and said, 'Is not that GREAT, like his Odes?' Mrs.
Thrale maintained that his Odes were melodious; upon which he exclaimed,
'Weave the warp, and weave the woof;'--