The habit which annoyed Mrs. Thrale was necessary to Boswell's
conception of his task; it involved what he spoke of as his
'authenticity.'
To understand what he meant by this, an attitude perhaps not only
towards himself, but to the public also, since he wished very much
that those who read his book should feel that it was true in every
detail, we must examine more nearly Boswell's method of carrying out
his biographical plan.
It is remarkable that Boswell should have begun his system of
recording when quite a young man. A man of forty is more easily
forgiven some eccentricity than one of two-and-twenty. Yet we find
Boswell, during his travels on the Continent, tablets in hand on his
first visit to Paoli, who gives an amusing account of him:
He came to my country and he fetched me some letter of
recommending him: but I was of the belief he might be an
impostor, and I supposed in my minte, he was an espy; for I
look away from him and in a moment I look to him again, and I
behold his tablets. Oh! he was to the work of writing down
all I say! Indeed I was angry. But soon I discover he was no
impostor and no espy; and I only find I was myself the monster
he had come to discover. Oh--he is a very good man, I love him
indeed; so cheerful! so gay! so pleasant! but at the first,
oh! indeed I was angry.[1]
Boswell's method of recording conversations was not completed in
these memoranda taken down at the moment. He had, besides these,
his journal. It has been remarked already that he began to keep this
regularly as early as 1758 during his tour on the Northern Circuit in
the company of his father and Lord Hailes, and he tells us something
of it at the time of his journey to Greenwich with Johnson in 1763:
I was the more sensible of it (the cold) from having sat up
all the night before _recollecting and writing_ in my journal
what I thought worthy of preservation; an exertion which,
during the first part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I
frequently made. I remember having sat up four nights in one
week, without being much incommoded in the daytime.
In the 'Tour to Corsica,' also, he tells us:
From my first setting out on this tour, I wrote down every
night what I had observed during the day, throwing together a
great deal, that I might afterwards select at leisure.[2]
We have then two processes mentioned by which Boswell recorded
conversation: the notes taken down at the moment, and the journal
written up at night. The relation of these two--the function which
each of them performed--is not difficult to conjecture.
Boswell's object was to get his records written up as soon as possible
after the events or conversations which he was describing:
I found, from experience, that to collect my friend's
conversation so as to exhibit it with any degree of its
original flavour, it was necessary to write it down without
delay. To record his sayings, after some distance of time,
was like preserving or pickling long-kept or faded fruits, or
other vegetables, which, when in that state, have little or
nothing of their taste when fresh.[3]
It was upon the fact that he trusted, not to his memory, but to
'exact transcript of conversations,' that Boswell based his claim to
authenticity.[4] He was so absolutely truthful himself, that it never
occurred to him to think that the truth of what was actually written
down at the time could be doubted, and it was to him an entire
refutation of any adversary to confront him with his method.
If this book should again be reprinted, I shall with the
utmost readiness correct any errours I may have committed, in
stating conversations, provided it can be clearly shown to me
that I have been inaccurate. But I am slow to believe (as
I have elsewhere observed) that any man's memory, at the
distance of several years, can preserve facts or sayings with
such fidelity as may be done by writing them down when they
are recent: and I beg it may be remembered, that it is not
upon _memory_, but upon what was _written at the time_, that
the authenticity of my 'Journal' rests.[5]
But it is clear enough that the notes which Boswell made at the
time must have been very unlike the final form in which he wrote the
dialogue. In the course of conversations in which he himself took
part, it would have been impossible without shorthand to make so full
a record. The kind of notes which Boswell took may be gathered from
the following passage:
I this evening boasted, that though I did not write what is
called stenography, or short-hand, in appropriated characters
devised for the purpose, I had a method of my own of writing
half words, and leaving out some altogether, so as yet to keep
the substance and language of any discourses which I had heard
so much in view, that I could give it very completely soon
after I had taken it down.[6]
It would seem then that what was written down during a conversation
was far from including every word which was spoken; it was rather an
aid, though a very substantial aid, to memory. We may conjecture that
the most important expressions were recorded, and the course of the
argument indicated, so as to be intelligible to Boswell, but not even
to him, perhaps, after a long interval. He was able to 'keep in view'
the 'substance and language.'
To give a full and permanent form to these rough drafts must therefore
have been a work of considerable labour; and it is this no doubt that
the journal accomplished.
We may see in the 'Life' the traces of two kinds of record. For we
have sometimes the actual words of the speakers, but at others only
the purport of their remarks. What we should naturally suppose--if
this theory of the respective functions of the notes and the journal
is correct--that the former came from the journal and the latter
from the notes taken down at the moment, or sometimes perhaps shortly
afterwards--is confirmed by the fact that, when we have only the
less complete account, Boswell very often regrets the neglect of his
journal, and talks of presenting such scraps as he has; and on one
occasion says:
I kept very imperfect notes of his conversation, which had I
according to my usual custom _written out at large soon after
the time_, much might have been preserved.[7]
He was obliged in consequence of his neglect to write the text
directly from notes; with their aid he filled in what he could
remember; but he dispensed with the intermediate assistance of the
journal, and the account is therefore far less full.
The rough notes of the moment and the elaborate journal made by
writing them out at large 'soon after the time'--these, then, form the
basis of Boswell's method for preserving Johnson's talk. It is not
to be supposed that Boswell strictly adhered to this method on every
occasion. He was too much an experimentalist for that; and sometimes
it must have been very difficult to take notes. We cannot imagine that
when Boswell was alone with Johnson he pulled out 'tablets' in the
course of an argument. More probably he seized an opportunity, as soon
afterwards as possible, when Johnson was not talking, to put down
the more striking phrases and record the point of the discussion. But
there must have been some occasions when opportunities did not occur.
Johnson, no doubt, became accustomed to his companion's habits and was
often willing to help him by telling him details about his early life
or dictating the text of a letter for Boswell to write down there
and then. But sometimes he was in the mood to resent memoranda; and
sometimes the talk was too continuous for Boswell's task to be an easy
one. At such times Boswell may have written the journal as well as
he could without the notes, and as soon afterwards as possible. At
Ashbourne, for instance, in 1777, he may have done this: he was alone
with Johnson more than usual, and several discussions made Johnson
very angry; he may well have waited to record anything until he wrote
the journal, for he had no lack of time to devote to this purpose
while staying in the quiet country town, and in point of fact he
actually kept the journal more fully at this time than at any other.
He mentions that he has 'acquired a facility in recollecting his
conversation.'[8] This may refer to the effort of memory required in
recalling altogether what had been said, as well as to the effort of
reconstructing the talk from what he had written down at the moment.
In the early part of the 'Life' Boswell says:
In progress of time, when my mind was, as it were, _strongly
impregnated with the Johnsonian æther_, I could, with much
more facility and exactness, _carry in my memory and commit to
paper_ the exuberant variety of his wisdom and wit.[9]
Here again he may well have had in mind a process of writing the
journal with no notes to help him.
All the original documents from which Boswell compiled the 'Life' are
concealed from this generation. There are, however--or at least there
were--in existence two of Boswell's note-books. Mr. Fitzgerald relates
that in Mr. Pocock's 'Johnsonian Catalogue' there was
a note-book in which Boswell jotted down from day to day the
actual sayings and doings of the eminent lexicographer. This
volume contains literary opinions and aphorisms peculiar to
this great man, and of which many have never been published.
He gives a specific account of the manner in which he compiled
the 'Dictionary,' and relates other matters of interest,
bearing on his long literary career and contemporaries.
This manuscript, if it were to be seen, might reveal more definitely
what Boswell's method was. The description of it can do nothing but
emphasise the use of the 'tablets'; but its value as evidence depends
upon its accuracy with regard to the sequence of the notes: if they
were really 'jotted down from day to day,' then they are the 'tablets'
without a doubt.
The other note-book is 'Boswelliana'; and it is of a different kind.
Boswell kept in a portfolio a quantity of loose quarto sheets,
inscribed on each page _Boswelliana_. In certain of these
sheets the pages are denoted by numerals in the ordinary
fashion; another portion is numbered by the folios; while a
further portion consists of loose leaves and letter-backs.
The greater part of the entries are made so carefully as to
justify the belief that the author intended to embody the
whole in a volume of literary anecdotes.[10]
Emphatically this collection was not 'tablets.' It was probably
intended for a particular purpose. Boswell may have had several
collections of a similar kind. But it is clear that the purpose
of 'Boswelliana' has no connection with the 'Life of Johnson.'[11]
Stories of Johnson it does indeed contain; but they are few, and are
unconnected by any chronological arrangement. They form only a small
part of the whole.
The journal itself was kept in quarto and octavo volumes,[12] and
Boswell on one occasion showed it to Sir William Forbes.[13] It
seems that his object in doing this was to get an opinion which might
encourage him to publish; he quotes with great pleasure in the 'Life'
the praise which this gentleman had bestowed upon it. One would
suppose that the journal displayed in this way gave the Johnsonian
conversations and anecdotes in words almost identical with the text of
the 'Life.' In the preface to the 'Corsican Journal' Boswell says of
the Paoli memoirs:
As I have related his remarkable sayings, I declare upon my
honour, that I have neither added nor diminished; nay, so
scrupulous have I been, that I would not make the smallest
variation even when my friends thought it would be an
improvement. I know with how much pleasure we read what is
perfectly authentick.[14]
One might easily expect that the same words would equally well apply
to the 'Life.' But this is not the case.
It is reasonable to suppose that the Johnsonian stories in
'Boswelliana' are not less polished than those in the journal; they
are themselves in a definite form; and since the journal itself is
only the second stage of Boswell's method, these stories must be in
a state at the least no less advanced. And yet the verbal differences
between these stories and those in the 'Life' are often considerable
and sometimes large. The truth is that Boswell's method must have
developed very much in one direction from the account he gave of it
in the 'Tour to Corsica.' As Dr. Birkbeck Hill has clearly proved,
he made changes in the way of 'touching up' the conversations and
stories.
One or two instances of these variations will illustrate Boswell's
treatment of his materials; the stories are given below in double
columns for purpose of comparison.
_Boswelliana_ _Life_
1. Boswell asked Mr. We talked of the education
Samuel Johnson what was of children; and I
best to teach a gentleman's asked him what he thought
children first. was best to teach them
'Why, Sir,' said he, first. _Johnson_: 'Sir, it
'there is no matter what is no matter what you
you teach them first. It shall teach them first, any
matters no more than more than what leg you
which leg you put first shall put in your breeches
into your bretches [_sic_]. first. Sir, you may stand
Sir, you may stand disputing which leg you
disputing which leg you shall put in first, but in
shall put in first, but in the meantime your breech
the meantime your legs is bare. Sir, while you
are bare. No matter are considering which of
which you put in first two things you shall teach
so that you put 'em both your child first, another
in, and then you have boy has learnt them both.
your bretches on. Sir,
while you think which of
two things to teach a
child first, another boy, in
the common course has
learnt both.'
I was present.
_Boswelliana_ _Life_
2. Boswell told Mr. The same gentleman
Samuel Johnson that a maintained that there was
gentleman of their no distinction between
acquaintance maintained virtue and vice. _Johnson_:
in public company that he 'Why, Sir, if the fellow
could see no distinction does not think as he
between virtue and vice. speaks, he is lying; and
'Sir,' said Mr. Johnson, I see not what honour he
'does he intend that we can propose to himself
should believe that he is from having the character
lying, or that he is in of a liar. But if he does
earnest? If we think really think that there is
him a lyar, that is not no distinction between
honouring him very much. virtue and vice, why, Sir,
But if we think him in when he leaves our houses
earnest, when he leaves let us count our spoons.'
our houses let us count
our spoons.'
A comparison of the two versions of No. 1 reveals at once the brevity
of the final form. It is evident, as Mr. Fitzgerald remarks, that
the text itself could not have represented the talk as it came from
Johnson's lips. 'The whole is too deliberate, too close, too well
winnowed, as it were.' Conversation is more discursive. Boswell's
method as we see it here is in the first place to compress--to give
not the whole of Johnson's words, but only the essence of them. In
the result the story in its last state preserves the most important
expressions and is more pointed for being shorter.
The second story in the table has not been cut down in the same
fashion. It illustrates very well another process. It is the process,
one may say, of Johnsonising. Not only has the argument, as in
the former case, been made clearer and more concise, but the words
themselves have been considerably altered. The result indicates the
reason of these changes. The version in the 'Life' is stronger and
more convincing; it has more of the energy of human tongues. The
assertion 'he is lying' has more force than the corresponding
question: the 'why, Sir,' introduced before the climax gives the
proper snort of war before the culminating triumph of the dilemma.
Boswell made these changes that he might retain the spirit of
Johnson's talk and the atmosphere of the moment as the listeners
felt it. He succeeded whenever he added force and directness; one may
easily be convinced of this by recalling the uncouth figure with its
suggestion of abnormal strength which uttered slowly in a very
loud voice, occasionally shaking the head, 'as if to promote the
fermentation of his wit.'
A most remarkable instance of the two processes--of compressing and
Johnsonising--is furnished by two stories in 'Boswelliana' which
become one story in the 'Life.'
_Boswelliana_ _Life_
Mr. Sheridan, though a He now added, 'Sheridan
man of knowledge and cannot bear me. I
parts, was a little fanciful bring his declamation to a
in his projects for point. I ask him a plain
establishing oratory and question, What do you
altering the mode of British mean to teach? Besides,
education. 'Mr. Samuel Sir, what influence can Mr.
Johnson,' said Sherry, Sheridan have upon the
'cannot abide me, for I language of this great
always ask him, Pray, Sir, country by his narrow
what do you propose to exertions? Sir, it is
do?' burning a farthing candle
at Dover to show light at
From Mr. Johnson: Calais!'
Boswell was talking to
Mr. Samuel Johnson of
Mr. Sheridan's enthusiasm
for the advancement
of eloquence. 'Sir,' said
Mr. Johnson, 'it won't do.
He cannot carry through
his scheme. He is like a
man attempting to stride
the English Channel. Sir,
the cause bears no proportion
to the effect. It
is setting up a candle at
Whitechapel to give light
at Westminster.'
The compression and alteration are of the same character as in the two
previous stories. The argument is closer and the point clearer;
and the effect of the whole is stronger. One verbal change is
very striking. One might expect that the image with which Johnson
summarises his views would be wholly inviolate. Yet here we see Dover
and Calais substituted for Whitechapel and Westminster: probably the
reason is that Boswell regrets the phrase he has omitted, 'He is like
a man attempting to stride across the English Channel,' and tries to
combine the two images.
It must not be forgotten that the stories in 'Boswelliana' were
probably not used by Boswell in writing the 'Life.' If they were to be
written down in full once only, then why not in the proper Johnsonian
stores? Or why should this peculiar collection of 'Boswelliana'
take precedence? Some of the stories, indeed, must have been in the
journal; the record in 'Boswelliana,' for instance, of Johnson's
retort about Scotland--the first remark he made to Boswell--cannot
be the only record of the famous meeting in Tom Davies' back parlour;
clearly Boswell must have kept a more elaborate account. But though
the 'Boswelliana' manuscripts were not used, as seems most likely, it
may fairly be argued that the difference between the versions given
there and the final forms in the 'Life' are a proper indication of
Boswell's method of adapting his material. There is no reason to
suppose that Boswell was less accurate in the 'Boswelliana' than in
his journal and other Johnsonian stores; or indeed, that there was a
great difference between 'Boswelliana' versions and any others in an
unfinished state. And it is clear that two versions of a story, both
in an unfinished state, must differ from the final form more or less,
perhaps, but with the same species of difference.
It is contended, therefore, that Boswell altered his written
Johnsoniana in a way which could account for the differences we have
observed between the versions of stories in 'Boswelliana' and those
in the 'Life.' This proposition, however, casts no reflection upon his
reputation for accuracy. He preserved the 'substance and language';
and if he changed some words he preserved the colouring and made the
whole a better representation of Johnson.
Boswell himself gives some suggestion of his method when he presents a
series of Johnsoniana for which he was indebted to Mr. Langton:
Very few articles in this collection were committed to writing
by himself, he not having that habit....
The authenticity of every article is unquestionable. For the
expressions, I, who wrote them down, am partly answerable.
By 'unquestionable authenticity' it was meant, no doubt, that
the purport of what Johnson said had been correctly reported.
In 'Boswelliana' a story told by Mr. Langton is written out with
suggestions for its improvement. It may be quoted as a final
example of the manner in which Boswell was partly answerable for the
expressions:
Johnson had a sovereign contempt for Wilkes and his party,
whom he looked upon as a mere rabble. 'Sir,' said he, 'had
Wilkes's mob prevailed against Government, this nation would
have died of _phthiriasis_! Mr. Langton told me this. The
expression _morbus pediculosus_, as being better known, would
strike more. _Lousy disease_ may be put in a parenthesis.'
[Footnote 1: _Miss Burney's Diary_, ii, 100.]
[Footnote 2: _Tour to Corsica_, p. 297.]
[Footnote 3: _Life of Johnson_, iii, 183.]
[Footnote 4: _Tour to the Hebrides_, p. 434 (Dr. Hill's
edition).]
[Footnote 5: _Tour to the Hebrides_, Appendix 1.]
[Footnote 6: _Life of Johnson_, iii, 270.]
[Footnote 7: _Life of Johnson_, ii, 372.]
[Footnote 8: _Life of Johnson_, i, 26.]
[Footnote 9: _Ib._, i, 421.]
[Footnote 10: _Boswelliana_, Grampian Club, 1874. Preface.]
[Footnote 11: Boswell on one occasion told a lady that her
joke should be included in _Boswelliana_.]
[Footnote 12: _Life of Johnson_, iv, 83.]
[Footnote 13: _Ib._, iii, 308.]
[Footnote 14: p. xiii.]