He said, 'This, Sir, no man can explain otherwise.'

We stopped at Welwyn, where I wished much to see, in company with Dr.

Johnson, the residence of the authour of _Night Thoughts_, which was

then possessed by his son, Mr. Young. Here some address was requisite,

for I was not acquainted with Mr. Young, and had I proposed to Dr.

Johnson that we should send to him, he would have checked my wish, and

perhaps been offended. I therefore concerted with Mr. Dilly, that I

should steal away from Dr. Johnson and him, and try what reception I

could procure from Mr. Young; if unfavourable, nothing was to be said;

but if agreeable, I should return and notify it to them. I hastened to

Mr. Young's, found he was at home, sent in word that a gentleman desired

to wait upon him, and was shewn into a parlour, where he and a young

lady, his daughter, were sitting. He appeared to be a plain, civil,

country gentleman; and when I begged pardon for presuming to trouble

him, but that I wished much to see his place, if he would give me leave;

he behaved very courteously, and answered, 'By all means, Sir; we are

just going to drink tea; will you sit down?' I thanked him, but said,

that Dr. Johnson had come with me from London, and I must return to the

inn and drink tea with him; that my name was Boswell, I had travelled

with him in the Hebrides. 'Sir, (said he) I should think it a great

honour to see Dr. Johnson here. Will you allow me to send for him?'

Availing myself of this opening, I said that 'I would go myself and

bring him, when he had drunk tea; he knew nothing of my calling here.'

Having been thus successful, I hastened back to the inn, and informed

Dr. Johnson that 'Mr. Young, son of Dr. Young, the authour of _Night

Thoughts_, whom I had just left, desired to have the honour of seeing

him at the house where his father lived.' Dr. Johnson luckily made no

inquiry how this invitation had arisen, but agreed to go, and when we

entered Mr. Young's parlour, he addressed him with a very polite bow,

'Sir, I had a curiosity to come and see this place. I had the honour to

know that great man[385], your father.' We went into the garden, where

we found a gravel walk, on each side of which was a row of trees,

planted by Dr. Young, which formed a handsome Gothick arch; Dr. Johnson

called it a fine grove. I beheld it with reverence.

We sat some time in the summer-house, on the outside wall of which was

inscribed, _'Ambulantes in horto audiebant vocem Dei_[386];' and in

reference to a brook by which it is situated, _'Vivendi rectè qui

prorogat horam_[387],' &c. I said to Mr. Young, that I had been told his

father was cheerful[388]. 'Sir, (said he) he was too well-bred a man not

to be cheerful in company; but he was gloomy when alone. He never was

cheerful after my mother's death, and he had met with many

disappointments.' Dr. Johnson observed to me afterwards, 'That this was

no favourable account of Dr. Young; for it is not becoming in a man to

have so little acquiescence in the ways of Providence, as to be gloomy

because he has not obtained as much preferment as he expected[389]; nor

to continue gloomy for the loss of his wife. Grief has its time[390].'

The last part of this censure was theoretically made. Practically, we

know that grief for the loss of a wife may be continued very long, in

proportion as affection has been sincere. No man knew this better than

Dr. Johnson.

We went into the church, and looked at the monument erected by Mr. Young

to his father. Mr. Young mentioned an anecdote, that his father had

received several thousand pounds of subscription-money for his

_Universal Passion_, but had lost it in the South-Sea[391]. Dr. Johnson

thought this must be a mistake; for he had never seen a

subscription-book.

Upon the road we talked of the uncertainty of profit with which authours

and booksellers engage in the publication of literary works. JOHNSON.

'My judgement I have found is no certain rule as to the sale of a book.'

BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, have you been much plagued with authours sending

you their works to revise?' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; I have been thought a

sour, surly fellow.' BOSWELL. 'Very lucky for you, Sir,--in that

respect.' I must however observe, that notwithstanding what he now said,

which he no doubt imagined at the time to be the fact, there was,

perhaps, no man who more frequently yielded to the solicitations even of

very obscure authours, to read their manuscripts, or more liberally

assisted them with advice and correction[392].

He found himself very happy at 'Squire Dilly's, where there is always

abundance of excellent fare, and hearty welcome.

On Sunday, June 3, we all went to Southill church, which is very near to

Mr. Dilly's house. It being the first Sunday of the month, the holy

sacrament was administered, and I staid to partake of it. When I came

afterwards into Dr. Johnson's room, he said, 'You did right to stay and

receive the communion; I had not thought of it.' This seemed to imply

that he did not choose to approach the altar without a previous

preparation, as to which good men entertain different opinions, some

holding that it is irreverent to partake of that ordinance without

considerable premeditation; others, that whoever is a sincere Christian,

and in a proper frame of mind to discharge any other ritual duty of our

religion, may, without scruple, discharge this most solemn one. A middle

notion I believe to be the just one, which is, that communicants need

not think a long train of preparatory forms indispensibly necessary; but

neither should they rashly and lightly venture upon so aweful and

mysterious an institution. Christians must judge each for himself, what

degree of retirement and self-examination is necessary upon

each occasion.

Being in a frame of mind which, I hope for the felicity of human nature,

many experience,--in fine weather,--at the country house of a

friend,--consoled and elevated by pious exercises,--I expressed myself

with an unrestrained fervour to my 'Guide, Philosopher, and

Friend[393];' 'My dear Sir, I would fain be a good man; and I am very

good now[394]. I fear GOD, and honour the King, I wish to do no ill, and

to be benevolent to all mankind.' He looked at me with a benignant

indulgence; but took occasion to give me wise and salutary caution. 'Do

not, Sir, accustom yourself to trust to _impressions_. There is a middle

state of mind between conviction and hypocrisy, of which many are

conscious[395]. By trusting to impressions, a man may gradually come to

yield to them, and at length be subject to them, so as not to be a free

agent, or what is the same thing in effect, to _suppose_ that he is not

a free agent. A man who is in that state, should not be suffered to

live; if he declares he cannot help acting in a particular way, and is

irresistibly impelled, there can be no confidence in him, no more than

in a tyger. But, Sir, no man believes himself to be impelled

irresistibly; we know that he who says he believes it, lies. Favourable

impressions at particular moments, as to the state of our souls, may be

deceitful and dangerous. In general no man can be sure of his acceptance

with God; some, indeed, may have had it revealed to them. St. Paul, who

wrought miracles, may have had a miracle wrought on himself, and may

have obtained supernatural assurance of pardon, and mercy, and

beatitude; yet St. Paul, though he expresses strong hope, also expresses

fear, lest having preached to others, he himself should be a

cast-away[396].'

The opinion of a learned Bishop of our acquaintance, as to there being

merit in religious faith, being mentioned;--JOHNSON. 'Why, yes, Sir, the

most licentious man, were hell open before him, would not take the most

beautiful strumpet to his arms. We must, as the Apostle says, live by

faith, not by sight[397].'

I talked to him of original sin[398], in consequence of the fall of man,

and of the atonement made by our SAVIOUR. After some conversation, which

he desired me to remember, he, at my request, dictated to me as

follows:--

'With respect to original sin, the inquiry is not necessary; for

whatever is the cause of human corruption, men are evidently and

confessedly so corrupt, that all the laws of heaven and earth are

insufficient to restrain them from crimes.

'Whatever difficulty there may be in the conception of vicarious

punishments, it is an opinion which has had possession of mankind in all

ages. There is no nation that has not used the practice of sacrifices.

Whoever, therefore, denies the propriety of vicarious punishments, holds

an opinion which the sentiments and practice of mankind have

contradicted, from the beginning of the world. The great sacrifice for

the sins of mankind was offered at the death of the MESSIAH, who is

called in scripture "The Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins[399] of

the world." To judge of the reasonableness of the scheme of redemption,

it must be considered as necessary to the government of the universe,

that GOD should make known his perpetual and irreconcileable detestation

of moral evil. He might indeed punish, and punish only the offenders;

but as the end of punishment is not revenge of crimes, but propagation

of virtue, it was more becoming the Divine clemency to find another

manner of proceeding, less destructive to man, and at least equally

powerful to promote goodness. The end of punishment is to reclaim and

warn. _That_ punishment will both reclaim and warn, which shews

evidently such abhorrence of sin in GOD, as may deter us from it, or

strike us with dread of vengeance when we have committed it. This is

effected by vicarious punishment. Nothing could more testify the

opposition between the nature of GOD and moral evil, or more amply

display his justice, to men and angels, to all orders and successions of

beings, than that it was necessary for the highest and purest nature,

even for DIVINITY itself, to pacify the demands of vengeance, by a

painful death; of which the natural effect will be, that when justice is

appeased, there is a proper place for the exercise of mercy; and that

such propitiation shall supply, in some degree, the imperfections of our

obedience, and the inefficacy of our repentance: for, obedience and

repentance, such as we can perform, are still necessary. Our SAVIOUR has

told us, that he did not come to destroy the law, but to fulfill; to

fulfill the typical law, by the performance of what those types had

foreshewn; and the moral law, by precepts of greater purity and higher

exaltation.'

[Here he said, 'GOD bless you with it.' I acknowledged myself much

obliged to him; but I begged that he would go on as to the propitiation

being the chief object of our most holy faith. He then dictated this one

other paragraph.]

'The peculiar doctrine of Christianity is, that of an universal

sacrifice, and perpetual propitiation. Other prophets only proclaimed

the will and the threatenings of GOD. CHRIST satisfied his

justice[400].'

The Reverend Mr. Palmer[401], Fellow of Queen's College, Cambridge,

dined with us. He expressed a wish that a better provision were made for

parish-clerks. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir, a parish-clerk should be a man who is

able to make a will, or write a letter for any body in the parish.'

I mentioned Lord Monboddo's notion[402] that the ancient Egyptians, with

all their learning, and all their arts, were not only black, but

woolly-haired. Mr. Palmer asked how did it appear upon examining the

mummies? Dr. Johnson approved of this test[403].

Although upon most occasions[404] I never heard a more strenuous

advocate for the advantages of wealth, than Dr. Johnson: he this day, I

know not from what caprice, took the other side. 'I have not observed

(said he) that men of very large fortunes enjoy any thing extraordinary

that makes happiness. What has the Duke of Bedford? What has the Duke of

Devonshire? The only great instance that I have ever known of the

enjoyment of wealth was, that of Jamaica Dawkins, who, going to visit

Palmyra, and hearing that the way was infested by robbers, hired a troop

of Turkish horse to guard him[405].'

Dr. Gibbons[406], the Dissenting minister, being mentioned, he said, 'I

took to Dr. Gibbons.' And addressing himself to Mr. Charles Dilly,

added, 'I shall be glad to see him. Tell him, if he'll call on me, and

dawdle[407] over a dish of tea in an afternoon, I shall take it kind.'

The Reverend Mr. Smith, Vicar of Southill, a very respectable man, with

a very agreeable family, sent an invitation to us to drink tea. I

remarked Dr. Johnson's very respectful[408] politeness. Though always

fond of changing the scene, he said, 'We must have Mr. Dilly's leave. We

cannot go from your house, Sir, without your permission.' We all went,

and were well satisfied with our visit. I however remember nothing

particular, except a nice distinction which Dr. Johnson made with

respect to the power of memory, maintaining that forgetfulness was a

man's own fault[409]. 'To remember and to recollect (said he) are

different things. A man has not the power to recollect what is not in

his mind; but when a thing is in his mind he may remember it.' The

remark was occasioned by my leaning back on a chair, which a little

before I had perceived to be broken, and pleading forgetfulness as an

excuse. 'Sir, (said he,) its being broken was certainly in your

mind[410].'

When I observed that a housebreaker was in general very timorous;

JOHNSON. 'No wonder, Sir; he is afraid of being shot getting _into_ a

house, or hanged when he has got _out_ of it.'

He told us, that he had in one day written six sheets of a translation

from the French[411], adding, 'I should be glad to see it now. I wish

that I had copies of all the pamphlets written against me, as it is said

Pope had. Had I known that I should make so much noise in the world, I

should have been at pains to collect them. I believe there is hardly a

day in which there is not something about me in the newspapers.'

On Monday, June 4, we all went to Luton-Hoe, to see Lord Bute's

magnificent seat[412], for which I had obtained a ticket. As we entered

the park, I talked in a high style of my old friendship with Lord

Mountstuart[413], and said, 'I shall probably be much at this place.'

The Sage, aware of human vicissitudes, gently checked me: 'Don't you be

too sure of that.' He made two or three peculiar observations; as when

shewn the botanical garden, 'Is not every garden a botanical garden?'

When told that there was a shrubbery to the extent of several miles:

'That is making a very foolish use of the ground; a little of it is very

well.' When it was proposed that we should walk on the pleasure-ground;

'Don't let us fatigue ourselves. Why should we walk there? Here's a fine

tree, let's get to the top of it.' But upon the whole, he was very much

pleased. He said, 'This is one of the places I do not regret having come

to see. It is a very stately place, indeed; in the house magnificence is

not sacrificed to convenience, nor convenience to magnificence. The

library is very splendid: the dignity of the rooms is very great; and

the quantity of pictures is beyond expectation, beyond hope.'

It happened without any previous concert, that we visited the seat of

Lord Bute upon the King's birthday; we dined and drank his Majesty's

health at an inn, in the village of Luton.

In the evening I put him in mind of his promise to favour me with a copy

of his celebrated Letter to the Earl of Chesterfield, and he was at last

pleased to comply with this earnest request, by dictating it to me from

his memory; for he believed that he himself had no copy[414]. There was

an animated glow in his countenance while he thus recalled his

high-minded indignation.

He laughed heartily at a ludicrous action in the Court of Session, in

which I was Counsel. The Society of _Procurators_, or Attornies,

entitled to practise in the inferiour courts at Edinburgh, had obtained

a royal charter, in which they had taken care to have their ancient

designation of Procurators changed into that of _Solicitors_, from a

notion, as they supposed, that it was more genteel[415]; and this new

title they displayed by a publick advertisement for a _General Meeting_

at their HALL.

It has been said, that the Scottish nation is not distinguished for

humour; and, indeed, what happened on this occasion may in some degree

justify the remark: for although this society had contrived to make

themselves a very prominent object for the ridicule of such as might

stoop to it, the only joke to which it gave rise, was the following

paragraph, sent to the newspaper called _The Caledonian Mercury_:--

'A correspondent informs us, that the Worshipful Society of _Chaldeans_,

_Cadies_[416], or _Running Stationers_ of this city are resolved, in

imitation, and encouraged by the singular success of their brethren, of

an equally respectable Society, to apply for a Charter of their

Privileges, particularly of the sole privilege of PROCURING, in the most

extensive sense of the word[417], exclusive of chairmen, porters,

penny-post men, and other _inferiour_ ranks; their brethren the R--Y--L

S--LL--RS, _alias_ P--C--RS, _before the_ INFERIOUR Courts of this City,

always excepted.

'Should the Worshipful Society be successful, they are farther resolved

not to be _puffed up_ thereby, but to demean themselves with more

equanimity and decency than their _R--y--l, learned_, and _very modest_

brethren above mentioned have done, upon their late dignification and

exaltation.'

A majority of the members of the Society prosecuted Mr. Robertson, the

publisher of the paper, for damages; and the first judgement of the

whole Court very wisely dismissed the action: _Solventur risu tabulae,

tu missus abibis_[418]. But a new trial or review was granted upon a

petition, according to the forms in Scotland. This petition I was

engaged to answer, and Dr. Johnson with great alacrity furnished me this

evening with what follows:--

'All injury is either of the person, the fortune, or the fame. Now it is

a certain thing, it is proverbially known, that _a jest breaks no

bones_. They never have gained half-a-crown less in the whole profession

since this mischievous paragraph has appeared; and, as to their

reputation, What is their reputation but an instrument of getting money?

If, therefore, they have lost no money, the question upon reputation

may be answered by a very old position,--_De minimis non curat Praetor_.

'Whether there was, or was not, an _animus injuriandi_, is not worth

inquiring, if no _injuria_ can be proved. But the truth is, there was no

_animus injuriandi_. It was only an _animus irritandi[419]_, which,

happening to be exercised upon a _genus irritabile_, produced unexpected

violence of resentment. Their irritability arose only from an opinion of

their own importance, and their delight in their new exaltation. What

might have been borne by a _Procurator_ could not be borne by a

_Solicitor_. Your Lordships well know, that _honores mutant mores_.

Titles and dignities play strongly on the fancy. As a madman is apt to

think himself grown suddenly great, so he that grows suddenly great is

apt to borrow a little from the madman. To co-operate with their

resentment would be to promote their phrenzy; nor is it possible to

guess to what they might proceed, if to the new title of Solicitor,

should be added the elation of victory and triumph.

'We consider your Lordships as the protectors of our rights, and the

guardians of our virtues; but believe it not included in your high

office, that you should flatter our vices, or solace our vanity: and, as

vanity only dictates this prosecution, it is humbly hoped your Lordships

will dismiss it.

'If every attempt, however light or ludicrous, to lessen another's

reputation, is to be punished by a judicial sentence, what punishment

can be sufficiently severe for him who attempts to diminish the

reputation of the Supreme Court of Justice, by reclaiming upon a cause

already determined, without any change in the state of the question?

Does it not imply hopes that the Judges will change their opinion? Is

not uncertainty and inconstancy in the highest degree disreputable to a

Court? Does it not suppose, that the former judgement was temerarious or

negligent? Does it not lessen the confidence of the publick? Will it not

be said, that _jus est aut incognitum aut vagum?_ and will not the

consequence be drawn, _misera est servitus[420]?_ Will not the rules of

action be obscure? Will not he who knows himself wrong to-day, hope that

the Courts of Justice will think him right to-morrow? Surely, my Lords,

these are attempts of dangerous tendency, which the Solicitors, as men

versed in the law, should have foreseen and avoided. It was natural for

an ignorant printer to appeal from the Lord Ordinary; but from lawyers,

the descendants of lawyers, who have practised for three hundred years,

and have now raised themselves to a higher denomination, it might be

expected, that they should know the reverence due to a judicial

determination; and, having been once dismissed, should sit down

in silence.'

I am ashamed to mention, that the Court, by a plurality of voices,

without having a single additional circumstance before them, reversed

their own judgement, made a serious matter of this dull and foolish

joke, and adjudged Mr. Robertson to pay to the Society five pounds

(sterling money) and costs of suit. The decision will seem strange to

English lawyers.

On Tuesday, June 5, Johnson was to return to London. He was very

pleasant at breakfast; I mentioned a friend of mine having resolved

never to marry a pretty woman. JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is a very foolish

resolution to resolve not to marry a pretty woman. Beauty is of itself

very estimable. No, Sir, I would prefer a pretty woman, unless there are

objections to her. A pretty woman may be foolish; a pretty woman may be

wicked; a pretty woman may not like me. But there is no such danger in

marrying a pretty woman as is apprehended: she will not be persecuted if

she does not invite persecution. A pretty woman, if she has a mind to be

wicked, can find a readier way than another; and that is all.'

I accompanied him in Mr. Dilly's chaise to Shefford, where talking of

Lord Bute's never going to Scotland, he said, 'As an Englishman, I

should wish all the Scotch gentlemen should be educated in England;

Scotland would become a province; they would spend all their rents in

England.' This is a subject of much consequence, and much delicacy. The

advantage of an English education is unquestionably very great to Scotch

gentlemen of talents and ambition; and regular visits to Scotland, and

perhaps other means, might be effectually used to prevent them from

being totally estranged from their native country, any more than a

Cumberland or Northumberland gentleman who has been educated in the

South of England. I own, indeed, that it is no small misfortune for

Scotch gentlemen, who have neither talents nor ambition, to be educated

in England, where they may be perhaps distinguished only by a nick-name,

lavish their fortune in giving expensive entertainments to those who

laugh at them, and saunter about as mere idle insignificant hangers on

even upon the foolish great; when if they had been judiciously brought

up at home, they might have been comfortable and creditable members

of society.

At Shefford I had another affectionate parting from my revered friend,

who was taken up by the Bedford coach and carried to the metropolis. I

went with Messieurs Dilly, to see some friends at Bedford; dined with

the officers of the militia of the county, and next day proceeded on

my journey.

'To BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.

'DEAR SIR,

'How welcome your account of yourself and your invitation to your new

house was to me, I need not tell you, who consider our friendship not

only as formed by choice, but as matured by time. We have been now long

enough acquainted to have many images in common, and therefore to have a

source of conversation which neither the learning nor the wit of a new

companion can supply.

'My _Lives_ are now published; and if you will tell me whither I shall

send them, that they may come to you, I will take care that you shall

not be without them.

'You will, perhaps, be glad to hear, that Mrs. Thrale is disencumbered

of her brewhouse; and that it seemed to the purchaser so far from an

evil, that he was content to give for it an hundred and thirty-five

thousand pounds. Is the nation ruined?

'Please to make my respectful compliments to Lady Rothes, and keep me in

the memory of all the little dear family, particularly pretty Mrs.

Jane.[421]

'I am, Sir,

'Your affectionate humble servant, 'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'Bolt-Court, June 16, 1781.'

Johnson's charity to the poor was uniform and extensive, both from

inclination and principle. He not only bestowed liberally out of his own

purse, but what is more difficult as well as rare, would beg from

others, when he had proper objects in view. This he did judiciously as

well as humanely. Mr. Philip Metcalfe[422] tells me, that when he has

asked him for some money for persons in distress, and Mr. Metcalfe has

offered what Johnson thought too much, he insisted on taking less,

saying 'No, no, Sir; we must not _pamper_ them.'

I am indebted to Mr. Malone, one of Sir Joshua Reynolds's executors, for

the following note, which was found among his papers after his death,

and which, we may presume, his unaffected modesty prevented him from

communicating to me with the other letters from Dr. Johnson with which

he was pleased to furnish me. However slight in itself, as it does

honour to that illustrious painter, and most amiable man, I am happy to

introduce it.

'To SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 'DEAR SIR,

'It was not before yesterday that I received your splendid benefaction.

To a hand so liberal in distributing, I hope nobody will envy the power

of acquiring.

'I am, dear Sir,

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