took care to be out of the way, in order to give their mamma an
opportunity of putting her scheme in execution; but they only retired to
the next room, whence they could overhear the whole conversation: my
wife artfully introduced it, by observing, that one of the Miss
Flamboroughs was like to have a very good match of it in Mr. Spanker. To
this the 'squire assenting, she proceeded to remark, that they who had
warm fortunes were always sure of getting good husbands: "But heaven
help," continued she, "the girls that have none. What signifies beauty,
Mr. Thornhill? or what signifies all the virtue, and all the
qualifications in the world, in this age of self-interest? It is not,
what is she? but, what has she? is all the cry."
"Madam," returned he, "I highly approve the justice, as well as the
novelty, of your remarks, and if I were a king, it should be otherwise.
It should then, indeed, be fine times for the girls without fortunes:
our two young ladies should be the first for whom I would provide."
"Ah, sir," returned my wife, "you are pleased to be facetious: but I
wish I were a queen, and then I know where my eldest daughter should
look for an husband. But now that you have put it into my head,
seriously, Mr. Thornhill, can't you recommend me a proper husband for
her? She is now nineteen years old, well grown and well educated, and,
in my humble opinion, does not want for parts."
"Madam," replied he, "if I were to choose, I would find out a person
possessed of every accomplishment that can make an angel happy. One with
prudence, fortune, taste, and sincerity; such, madam, would be, in my
opinion, the proper husband." "Ay, sir," said she, "but do you know of
any such person?"--"No, Madam," returned he, "it is impossible to know
any person that deserves to be her husband: she's too great a treasure
for one man's possession: she's a goddess. Upon my soul, I speak what I
think, she's an angel"--"Ah, Mr. Thornhill, you only flatter my poor
girl: but we have been thinking of marrying her to one of your tenants,
whose mother is lately dead, and who wants a manager; you know whom I
mean, farmer Williams; a warm man, Mr. Thornhill, able to give her good
bread; and who has several times made her proposals:" (which was
actually the case) "but, sir," concluded she, "I should be glad to have
your approbation of our choice."--"How, Madam," replied he, "my
approbation! My approbation of such a choice! Never. What! Sacrifice so
much beauty and sense, and goodness, to a creature insensible of the
blessing! Excuse me, I can never approve of such a piece of injustice!
And I have my reasons!"--"Indeed, sir," cried Deborah, "If you have your
reasons, that's another affair; but I should be glad to know those
reasons."--"Excuse me, madam," returned he, "they lie too deep for
discovery;" (laying his hand upon his bosom) "they remain buried,
rivetted here."
After he was gone, upon general consultation, we could not tell what to
make of these fine sentiments. Olivia considered them as instances of
the most exalted passion; but I was not quite so sanguine: yet, whatever
they might portend, it was resolved to prosecute the scheme of farmer
Williams, who, from my daughter's first appearance in the country, had
paid her his addresses.
XXIII. MEETING OF JOHNSON WITH WILKES.
(1776).
JAMES BOSWELL.--1740-1795.
_From_ LIFE OF SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D.
I am now to record a very curious incident in Dr. Johnson's life, which
fell under my own observation; of which _pars magna fui_, and which I am
persuaded will, with the liberal-minded, be much to his credit.
My desire of being acquainted with celebrated men of every description
had made me, much about the same time, obtain an introduction to Dr.
Samuel Johnson and to John Wilkes, Esq. Two men more different could not
perhaps be selected out of all mankind. They had even attacked one
another with some asperity in their writings; yet I lived in habits of
friendship with both. I could fully relish the excellence of each; for I
have ever delighted in that intellectual chemistry, which can separate
good qualities from evil in the same person.
Sir John Pringle, "mine own friend and my father's friend," between whom
and Dr. Johnson I in vain wished to establish an acquaintance, as I
respected and lived in intimacy with both of them, observed to me once,
very ingeniously, "It is not in friendship as in mathematics, where two
things, each equal to a third, are equal between themselves. You agree
with Johnson as a middle quality, and you agree with me as a middle
quality; but Johnson and I should not agree." Sir John was not
sufficiently flexible; so I desisted; knowing, indeed, that the
repulsion was equally strong on the part of Johnson; who, I know not
from what cause, unless his being a Scotchman, had formed a very
erroneous opinion of Sir John. But I conceived an irresistible wish, if
possible, to bring Dr. Johnson and Mr. Wilkes together. How to manage
it, was a nice and difficult matter.[E]
My worthy booksellers and friends, Messieurs Dilly in the Poultry, at
whose hospitable and well-covered table I have seen a greater number of
literary men than at any other, except that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, had
invited me to meet Mr. Wilkes and some more gentlemen on Wednesday, May
15th. "Pray," said I, "let us have Dr. Johnson." "What, with Mr. Wilkes?
not for the world," said Mr. Edward Dilly: "Dr. Johnson would never
forgive me." "Come," said I, "if you'll let me negotiate for you, I will
be answerable that all shall go well." _Dilly._ "Nay, if you will take
it upon you, I am sure I shall be very happy to see them both here."
Notwithstanding the high veneration which I entertained for Dr. Johnson,
I was sensible that he was sometimes a little actuated by the spirit of
contradiction, and by means of that I hoped I should gain my point. I
was persuaded that if I had come upon him with a direct proposal, "Sir,
will you dine in company with Jack Wilkes?" he would have flown into a
passion, and would probably have answered, "Dine with Jack Wilkes, Sir!
I'd as soon dine with Jack Ketch." I, therefore, while we were sitting
quietly by ourselves at his house in an evening, took occasion to open
my plan thus: "Mr. Dilly, Sir, sends his respectful compliments to you,
and would be happy if you would do him the honor to dine with him on
Wednesday next along with me, as I must soon go to Scotland." _Johnson._
"Sir, I am obliged to Mr. Dilly. I will wait upon him." _Boswell._
"Provided, Sir, I suppose, that the company which he is to have is
agreeable to you?" _Johnson._ "What do you mean, Sir? What do you take
me for? Do you think I am so ignorant of the world as to imagine that I
am to prescribe to a gentleman what company he is to have at his table?"
_Boswell._ "I beg your pardon, Sir, for wishing to prevent you from
meeting people whom you might not like. Perhaps he may have some of what
he calls his patriotic friends with him." _Johnson._ "Well, Sir, and
what then? What care I for his _patriotic friends_? Poh!" _Boswell._ "I
should not be surprised to find Jack Wilkes there." _Johnson._ "And if
Jack Wilkes _should_ be there, what is that to _me_, Sir? My dear
friend, let us have no more of this. I am sorry to be angry with you;
but really it is treating me strangely to talk to me as if I could not
meet any company whatever, occasionally." _Boswell._ "Pray forgive me,
Sir, I meant well. But you shall meet whoever comes, for me." Thus I
secured him, and told Dilly that he would find him very well pleased to
be one of his guests on the day appointed.
Upon the much expected Wednesday, I called on him about half an hour
before dinner, as I often did when we were to dine out together, to see
that he was ready in time, and to accompany him. I found him buffeting
his books, as upon a former occasion, covered with dust, and making no
preparation for going abroad. "How is this, Sir?" said I. "Don't you
recollect that you are to dine at Mr. Dilly's?" _Johnson._ "Sir, I did
not think of going to Dilly's; it went out of my head. I have ordered
dinner at home with Mrs. Williams." _Boswell._ "But, my dear Sir, you
know you were engaged to Mr. Dilly, and I told him so. He will expect
you, and will be much disappointed if you don't come." _Johnson._ "You
must talk to Mrs Williams about this."
Here was a sad dilemma. I feared that what I was so confident I had
secured would yet be frustrated. He had accustomed himself to show Mrs.
Williams such a degree of humane attention, as frequently imposed some
restraint upon him; and I knew that if she should be obstinate, he would
not stir. I hastened down stairs to the blind lady's room, and told her
I was in great uneasiness, for Dr. Johnson had engaged to me to dine
this day at Mr. Dilly's, but that he had told me he had forgotten his
engagement, and had ordered dinner at home. "Yes, Sir," said she,
pretty peevishly, "Dr. Johnson is to dine at home." "Madam," said I,
"his respect for you is such, that I know he will not leave you, unless
you absolutely desire it. But as you have so much of his company, I hope
you will be good enough to forego it for a day, as Mr. Dilly is a very
worthy man, has frequently had agreeable parties at his house for Dr.
Johnson, and will be vexed if the Doctor neglects him to-day. And then,
Madam, be pleased to consider my situation; I carried the message, and I
assured Mr. Dilly that Dr. Johnson was to come; and no doubt he has made
a dinner, and invited a company, and boasted of the honor he expected to
have. I shall be quite disgraced if the Doctor is not there." She
gradually softened to my solicitations, which were certainly as earnest
as most entreaties to ladies upon any occasion, and was graciously
pleased to empower me to tell Dr. Johnson, "That all things considered,
she thought he should certainly go." I flew back to him, still in dust,
and careless of what should be the event, "indifferent in his choice to
go or stay"; but as soon as I had announced to him Mrs. Williams's
consent, he roared, "Frank, a clean shirt," and was very soon dressed.
When I had him fairly seated in a hackney-coach with me, I exulted as
much as a fortune-hunter who has got an heiress into a post-chaise with
him to set out for Gretna Green.
When we entered Mr. Dilly's drawing room, he found himself in the midst
of a company he did not know. I kept myself snug and silent, watching
how he would conduct himself. I observed him whispering to Mr. Dilly,
"Who is that gentleman, Sir?"--"Mr. Arthur Lee." _Johnson._ "Too, too,
too" (under his breath), which was one of his habitual mutterings. Mr.
Arthur Lee could not but be very obnoxious to Johnson, for he was not
only a _patriot_, but an _American_. He was afterwards minister from the
United States at the court of Madrid. "And who is the gentleman in
lace?"--"Mr. Wilkes, Sir." This information confounded him still more;
he had some difficulty to restrain himself, and, taking up a book, sat
down upon a window-seat and read, or at least kept his eye upon it
intently for some time, till he composed himself. His feelings, I dare
say, were awkward enough. But he had no doubt recollected his having
rated me for supposing that he could be at all disconcerted by any
company, and he, therefore, resolutely set himself to behave quite as an
easy man of the world, who could adapt himself at once to the
disposition and manners of those whom he might chance to meet.
The cheering sound of "Dinner is upon the table," dissolved his reverie,
and we _all_ sat down without any symptoms of ill humor.... Mr. Wilkes
placed himself next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him with so much
attention and politeness, that he gained upon him insensibly. No man ate
more heartily than Johnson, or loved better what was nice and delicate.
Mr. Wilkes was very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. "Pray
give me leave, Sir--It is better here--A little of the brown--Some fat,
Sir--A little of the stuffing--Some gravy--Let me have the pleasure of
giving you some butter--Allow me to recommend a squeeze of this orange;
or the lemon, perhaps may have more zest"--"Sir; sir, I am obliged to
you, Sir," cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head to him with a
look for some time of "surly virtue," but, in a short while of
complacency.
Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, "He is not a good mimic." One of
the company added, "A merry-andrew, a buffoon." _Johnson._ "But he has
wit too, and is not deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of
imagery, and not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill up
his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, that of
escape. You drive him into a corner with both hands; but he is gone,
Sir, when you think you have got him--like an animal that jumps over
your head. Then he has a great range for wit; he never lets truth stand
between him and the jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick is
under many restraints from which Foote is free." _Wilkes._ "Garrick's
wit is more like Lord Chesterfield's." _Johnson._ "The first time I was
in company with Foote was at Fitzherbert's. Having no good opinion of
the fellow, I was resolved not to be pleased; and it is very difficult
to please a man against his will. I went on eating my dinner pretty
sullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the dog was so very comical,
that I was obliged to lay down my knife and fork, throw myself back in
my chair, and fairly laugh it out. No, Sir, he was irresistible. He upon
one occasion experienced, in an extraordinary degree, the efficacy of
his powers of entertaining. Amongst the many and various modes which he
tried of getting money, he became a partner with a small-beer brewer,
and he was to have a share of the profits for procuring customers
amongst his numerous acquaintance. Fitzherbert was one who took his
small-beer, but it was so bad that the servants resolved not to drink
it. They were at some loss how to notify their resolution, being afraid
of offending their master, who, they knew, liked Foote much as a
companion. At last they fixed upon a little black boy, who was rather a
favorite, to be their deputy, and deliver their remonstrance; and,
having invested him with the sole authority of the kitchen, he was to
inform Mr. Fitzherbert, in all their names, upon a certain day, that
they would drink Foote's small-beer no longer. On that day Foote
happened to dine at Fitzherbert's, and this boy served at table; he was
so delighted with Foote's stories, and merriment, and grimace, that when
he went down stairs, he told them, 'This is the finest man I have ever
seen. I will not deliver your message. I will drink his small-beer.'"
... Mr. Wilkes remarked, that "among all the bold flights of
Shakespeare's imagination, the boldest was making Birnam-wood march to
Dunsinane; creating a wood where there never was a shrub; a wood in
Scotland! ha! ha! ha!" And he also observed, that "the clannish slavery
of the Highlands of Scotland was the single exception to Milton's remark
of 'the mountain nymph, sweet Liberty,' being worshipped in all hilly
countries." "When I was at Inverary," said he, "on a visit to my old
friend Archibald, Duke of Argyle, his dependents congratulated me on
being such a favorite of his Grace. I said, 'It is, then, gentlemen,
truly lucky for me; for if I had displeased the Duke, and he had wished
it, there is not a Campbell among you but would have been ready to bring
John Wilkes's head to him in a charger. It would have been only
"'Off with his head! so much for _Aylesbury_.'
"I was then member for Aylesbury."
... Mr. Arthur Lee mentioned some Scotch who had taken possession of a
barren part of America, and wondered why they should choose it.
_Johnson._ "Why, Sir, all barrenness is comparative. The _Scotch_ would
not know it to be barren." _Boswell._ "Come, come, he is flattering the
English. You have now been in Scotland, Sir, and say if you did not see
meat and drink enough there." _Johnson._ "Why, yes, Sir; meat and drink
enough to give the inhabitants sufficient strength to run away from
home." All these quick and lively sallies were said sportively, quite in
jest, and with a smile, which showed that he meant only wit. Upon this
topic he and Mr. Wilkes could perfectly assimilate; here was a bond of
union between them, and I was conscious that as both of them had visited
Caledonia, both were fully satisfied of the strange narrow ignorance of
those who imagine that it is a land of famine. But they amused
themselves with persevering in the old jokes. When I claimed a
superiority for Scotland over England in one respect, that no man can be
arrested there for a debt merely because another swears it against him;
but there must first be the judgment of a court of law ascertaining its
justice; and that a seizure of the person, before judgment is obtained,
can take place only if his creditor should swear that he is about to fly
from the country, or, as it is technically expressed, is _in meditatione
fugae_;--_Wilkes._ "That, I should think, may be safely sworn of all the
Scotch nation." _Johnson_ (to Mr. Wilkes). "You must know, Sir, I lately
took my friend Boswell, and showed him genuine civilized life in an
English provincial town. I turned him loose at Lichfield, my native
city, that he might see for once real civility; for you know he lives
among savages in Scotland and among rakes in London." _Wilkes._ "Except
when he is with grave, sober, decent people, like you and me." _Johnson_
(smiling). "And we ashamed of him."
... This record, though by no means so perfect as I could wish, will
serve to give a notion of a very curious interview, which was not only
pleasing at the time, but had the agreeable and benignant effect of
reconciling any animosity, and sweetening any acidity, which, in the
various bustle of political contest, had been produced in the minds of
two men, who, though widely different, had so many things in
common--classical learning, modern literature, wit and humor, and ready
repartee--that it would have been much to be regretted if they had been
forever at a distance from each other.
Mr. Burke gave me much credit for this successful _negotiation_; and
pleasantly said, "that there was nothing equal to it in the whole
history of the _corps diplomatique_."
I attended Dr. Johnson home, and had the satisfaction to hear him tell
Mrs. Williams how much he had been pleased with Mr. Wilkes's company,
and what an agreeable day he had passed.
FOOTNOTES:
[E] Johnson's dislike of Mr. Wilkes was so great that it extended
even to his connections. He happened to dine one day at Sir Joshua
Reynolds's with a large and distinguished company, amongst whom were
Mr. Wilkes's brother, Israel, and his lady. In the course of
conversation, Mr. Israel Wilkes was about to make some remark, when
Johnson suddenly stopped him with, "I hope, sir, what you are going
to say may be better worth hearing than what you have already said."
This rudeness shocked and spread a gloom over the whole party,
particularly as Mr. Israel Wilkes was a gentleman of a very amiable
character and of refined taste, and, what Dr. Johnson little
suspected, a very loyal subject. Johnson afterwards owned to me that
he was very sorry that he had "_snubbed_ Wilkes, as his wife was
present." I replied, that he should be sorry for many reasons. "No,"
said Johnson, who was very reluctant to apologize for offences of
this nature; "no, I only regret it because his wife was by." I
believe that he had no kind of motive for this incivility to Mr.
Israel Wilkes but disgust at his brother's political principles.
MISS REYNOLDS'S RECOLLECTIONS.
XXIV. THE POLICY OF THE EMPIRE IN THE FIRST CENTURY.
EDWARD GIBBON.--1737-1794.
_From_ THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
In the second century of the Christian era, the empire of Rome
comprehended the fairest part of the earth, and the most civilized
portion of mankind. The frontiers of that extensive monarchy were
guarded by ancient renown and disciplined valor. The gentle but powerful
influence of laws and manners had gradually cemented the union of the
provinces. Their peaceful inhabitants enjoyed and abused the advantages
of wealth and luxury. The image of a free constitution was preserved
with decent reverence: the Roman senate appeared to possess the
sovereign authority, and devolved on the emperors all the executive
powers of government. During a happy period of more than fourscore
years, the public administration was conducted by the virtue and
abilities of Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the two Antonines.
The principal conquests of the Romans were achieved under the republic;
and the emperors, for the most part, were satisfied with preserving
those dominions which had been acquired by the policy of the senate, the
active emulation of the consuls, and the martial enthusiasm of the
people. The seven first centuries were filled with a rapid succession of
triumphs; but it was reserved for Augustus to relinquish the ambitious
design of subduing the whole earth, and to introduce a spirit of
moderation into the public councils. Inclined to peace by his temper and
situation, it was easy for him to discover that Rome, in her present
exalted situation, had much less to hope than to fear from the chance of
arms; and that, in the prosecution of remote wars, the undertaking
became every day more difficult, the event more doubtful, and the
possession more precarious and less beneficial. The experience of
Augustus added weight to these salutary reflections, and effectually
convinced him that, by the prudent vigor of his counsels, it would be
easy to secure every concession which the safety or the dignity of Rome
might require from the most formidable barbarians. Instead of exposing
his person and his legions to the arrows of the Parthians, he obtained,
by an honorable treaty, the restitution of the standards and prisoners
which had been taken in the defeat of Crassus.
His generals, in the early part of his reign, attempted the reduction of
AEthiopia and Arabia Felix. They marched near a thousand miles to the
south of the tropic; but the heat of the climate soon repelled the
invaders, and protected the unwarlike natives of those sequestered
regions. The northern countries of Europe scarcely deserved the expense
and labor of conquest. The forests and morasses of Germany were filled
with a hardy race of barbarians, who despised life when it was separated
from freedom; and though, on the first attack, they seemed to yield to
the weight of the Roman power, they soon, by a signal act of despair,
regained their independence, and reminded Augustus of the vicissitude of
fortune. On the death of that emperor, his testament was publicly read
in the senate. He bequeathed, as a valuable legacy to his successors,
the advice of confining the empire within those limits which nature
seemed to have placed as its permanent bulwarks and boundaries: on the
west the Atlantic Ocean; the Rhine and Danube on the north; the
Euphrates on the east; and towards the south, the sandy deserts of
Arabia and Africa.
Happily for the repose of mankind, the moderate system recommended by
the wisdom of Augustus was adopted by the fears and vices of his
immediate successors. Engaged in the pursuit of pleasure, or in the
exercise of tyranny, the first Caesars seldom showed themselves to the
armies or to the provinces; nor were they disposed to suffer that those
triumphs which _their_ indolence neglected should be usurped by the
conduct and valor of their lieutenants. The military fame of a subject
was considered as an insolent invasion of the imperial prerogative; and
it became the duty, as well as interest, of every Roman general to guard
the frontiers intrusted to his care, without aspiring to conquests
which might have proved no less fatal to himself than to the vanquished
barbarians.