Nov. 14, 1782.'

The Reverend Mr. Wilson having dedicated to him his _Archaeological

Dictionary_[506], that mark of respect was thus acknowledged:--

'TO THE REVEREND MR. WILSON, CLITHEROE, LANCASHIRE.

'REVEREND SIR,

'That I have long omitted to return you thanks for the honour conferred

upon me by your Dedication, I entreat you with great earnestness not to

consider as more faulty than it is. A very importunate and oppressive

disorder has for some time debarred me from the pleasures, and

obstructed me in the duties of life. The esteem and kindness of wise and

good men is one of the last pleasures which I can be content to lose;

and gratitude to those from whom this pleasure is received, is a duty of

which I hope never to be reproached with the final neglect. I therefore

now return you thanks for the notice which I have received from you, and

which I consider as giving to my name not only more bulk, but more

weight; not only as extending its superficies, but as increasing its

value. Your book was evidently wanted, and will, I hope, find its way

into the school, to which, however, I do not mean to confine it; for no

man has so much skill in ancient rites and practices as not to want it.

As I suppose myself to owe part of your kindness to my excellent friend,

Dr. Patten, he has likewise a just claim to my acknowledgements, which I

hope you, Sir, will transmit. There will soon appear a new edition of my

Poetical Biography; if you will accept of a copy to keep me in your

mind, be pleased to let me know how it may be conveniently conveyed to

you. The present is small, but it is given with good will by,

Reverend Sir,

'Your most, &c.

'SAM. JOHNSON.'

'December 31, 1782[507].'

1783: AETAT. 74.--In 1783, he was more severely afflicted than ever,

as will appear in the course of his correspondence[508]; but still the

same ardour for literature, the same constant piety, the same kindness

for his friends, and the same vivacity, both in conversation and

writing, distinguished him.

Having given Dr. Johnson a full account of what I was doing at

Auchinleck, and particularly mentioned what I knew would please him,--my

having brought an old man of eighty-eight from a lonely cottage to a

comfortable habitation within my enclosures, where he had good

neighbours near to him,--I received an answer in February, of which I

extract what follows:--

'I am delighted with your account of your activity at Auchinleck, and

wish the old gentleman, whom you have so kindly removed, may live long

to promote your prosperity by his prayers. You have now a new character

and new duties: think on them and practise them.

'Make an impartial estimate of your revenue, and whatever it is, live

upon less. Resolve never to be poor. Frugality is not only the basis of

quiet, but of beneficence. No man can help others that wants help

himself; we must have enough before we have to spare.

'I am glad to find that Mrs. Boswell grows well; and hope that to keep

her well, no care nor caution will be omitted. May you long live

happily together.

'When you come hither, pray bring with you Baxter's _Anacreon_[509]. I

cannot get that edition in London.'

On Friday, March 31, having arrived in London the night before, I was

glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's house, in Argyll-street, appearances

of friendship between them being still kept up. I was shewn into his

room, and after the first salutation he said, 'I am glad you are come. I

am very ill.' He looked pale, and was distressed with a difficulty of

breathing; but after the common inquiries he assumed his usual strong

animated style of conversation. Seeing me now for the first time as a

_Laird_, or proprietor of land, he began thus: 'Sir, the superiority of

a country-gentleman over the people upon his estate is very agreeable;

and he who says he does not feel it to be agreeable, lies; for it must

be agreeable to have a casual superiority over those who are by nature

equal with us[510].' BOSWELL. 'Yet, Sir, we see great proprietors of

land who prefer living in London.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, the pleasure of

living in London, the intellectual superiority that is enjoyed there,

may counter-balance the other. Besides, Sir, a man may prefer the state

of the country-gentleman upon the whole, and yet there may never be a

moment when he is willing to make the change to quit London for it.' He

said, 'It is better to have five _per cent_. out of land than out of

money, because it is more secure; but the readiness of transfer, and

promptness of interest, make many people rather choose the funds. Nay,

there is another disadvantage belonging to land, compared with money. A

man is not so much afraid of being a hard creditor, as of being a hard

landlord.' BOSWELL. 'Because there is a sort of kindly connection

between a landlord and his tenants.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; many landlords

with us never see their tenants. It is because if a landlord drives away

his tenants, he may not get others; whereas the demand for money is so

great, it may always be lent.'

He talked with regret and indignation of the factious opposition to

Government at this time[511], and imputed it in a great measure to the

Revolution. 'Sir, (said he, in a low voice, having come nearer to me,

while his old prejudices seemed to be fermenting in his mind,) this

Hanoverian family is _isolée_ here[512]. They have no friends. Now the

Stuarts had friends who stuck by them so late as 1745. When the right of

the King is not reverenced, there will not be reverence for those

appointed by the King.'

His observation that the present royal family has no friends, has been

too much justified by the very ungrateful behaviour of many who were

under great obligations to his Majesty; at the same time there are

honourable exceptions; and the very next year after this conversation,

and ever since, the King has had as extensive and generous support as

ever was given to any monarch, and has had the satisfaction of knowing

that he was more and more endeared to his people[513].

He repeated to me his verses on Mr. Levett, with an emotion which gave

them full effect[514]; and then he was pleased to say, 'You must be as

much with me as you can. You have done me good. You cannot think how

much better I am since you came in.'

He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I was arrived. I had not

seen her since her husband's death. She soon appeared, and favoured me

with an invitation to stay to dinner, which I accepted. There was no

other company but herself and three of her daughters, Dr. Johnson, and

I. She too said, she was very glad I was come, for she was going to

Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson before I came.

This seemed to be attentive and kind; and I who had not been informed of

any change, imagined all to be as well as formerly. He was little

inclined to talk at dinner, and went to sleep after it; but when he

joined us in the drawing-room, he seemed revived, and was again himself.

Talking of conversation, he said, 'There must, in the first place, be

knowledge, there must be materials; in the second place, there must be a

command of words; in the third place, there must be imagination, to

place things in such views as they are not commonly seen in; and in the

fourth place, there must be presence of mind, and a resolution that is

not to be overcome by failures: this last is an essential requisite; for

want of it many people do not excel in conversation. Now _I_ want it: I

throw up the game upon losing a trick.' I wondered to hear him talk thus

of himself, and said, 'I don't know, Sir, how this may be; but I am sure

you beat other people's cards out of their hands.' I doubt whether he

heard this remark. While he went on talking triumphantly, I was fixed in

admiration, and said to Mrs. Thrale, 'O, for short-hand to take this

down!' 'You'll carry it all in your head; (said she;) a long head is as

good as short-hand.'

It has been observed and wondered at, that Mr. Charles Fox never talked

with any freedom in the presence of Dr. Johnson[515], though it is well

known, and I myself can witness, that his conversation is various,

fluent, and exceedingly agreeable. Johnson's own experience, however, of

that gentleman's reserve was a sufficient reason for his going on thus:

'Fox never talks in private company; not from any determination not to

talk, but because he has not the first motion[516]. A man who is used to

the applause of the House of Commons, has no wish for that of a private

company. A man accustomed to throw for a thousand pounds, if set down to

throw for sixpence, would not be at the pains to count his dice. Burke's

talk is the ebullition of his mind; he does not talk from a desire of

distinction, but because his mind is full[517].

He thus curiously characterised one of our old acquaintance: '----[518]

is a good man, Sir; but he is a vain man and a liar. He, however, only

tells lies of vanity; of victories, for instance, in conversation, which

never happened.' This alluded to a story which I had repeated from that

gentleman, to entertain Johnson with its wild bravado: 'This Johnson,

Sir, (said he,) whom you are all afraid of will shrink, if you come

close to him in argument and roar as loud as he. He once maintained the

paradox, that there is no beauty but in utility[519]. "Sir, (said I,)

what say you to the peacock's tail, which is one of the most beautiful

objects in nature, but would have as much utility if its feathers were

all of one colour." He _felt_ what I thus produced, and had recourse to

his usual expedient, ridicule; exclaiming, "A peacock has a tail, and a

fox has a tail;" and then he burst out into a laugh. "Well, Sir, (said

I, with a strong voice, looking him full in the face,) you have

unkennelled your fox; pursue him if you dare." He had not a word to say,

Sir.' Johnson told me, that this was a fiction from beginning

to end[520].

After musing for some time, he said, 'I wonder how I should have any

enemies; for I do harm to nobody[521].' BOSWELL. 'In the first place,

Sir, you will be pleased to recollect, that you set out with attacking

the Scotch; so you got a whole nation for your enemies.' JOHNSON. 'Why,

I own, that by my definition of _oats_[522] I meant to vex them.'

BOSWELL. 'Pray, Sir, can you trace the cause of your antipathy to the

Scotch.' JOHNSON. 'I cannot, Sir[523].' BOSWELL. 'Old Mr. Sheridan says,

it was because they sold Charles the First.' JOHNSON. 'Then, Sir, old

Mr. Sheridan has found out a very good reason.'

Surely the most obstinate and sulky nationality, the most determined

aversion to this great and good man, must be cured, when he is seen thus

playing with one of his prejudices, of which he candidly admitted that

he could not tell the reason. It was, however, probably owing to his

having had in his view the worst part of the Scottish nation, the needy

adventurers, many of whom he thought were advanced above their merits by

means which he did not approve. Had he in his early life been in

Scotland, and seen the worthy, sensible, independent gentlemen, who live

rationally and hospitably at home, he never could have entertained such

unfavourable and unjust notions of his fellow-subjects. And accordingly

we find, that when he did visit Scotland, in the latter period of his

life, he was fully sensible of all that it deserved, as I have already

pointed out, when speaking of his _Journey to the Western Islands_.[524]

Next day, Saturday, March 22, I found him still at Mrs. Thrale's, but he

told me that he was to go to his own house in the afternoon[525]. He was

better, but I perceived he was but an unruly patient, for Sir Lucas

Pepys, who visited him, while I was with him said, 'If you were

_tractable_, Sir, I should prescribe for you.'

I related to him a remark which a respectable friend had made to me,

upon the then state of Government, when those who had been long in

opposition had attained to power, as it was supposed, against the

inclination of the Sovereign[526]. 'You need not be uneasy (said this

gentleman) about the King. He laughs at them all; he plays them one

against another.' JOHNSON. 'Don't think so, Sir. The King is as much

oppressed as a man can be. If he plays them one against another, he

_wins_ nothing.'

I had paid a visit to General Oglethorpe in the morning, and was told by

him that Dr. Johnson saw company on Saturday evenings, and he would meet

me at Johnson's that night. When I mentioned this to Johnson, not

doubting that it would please him, as he had a great value for

Oglethorpe, the fretfulness of his disease unexpectedly shewed itself;

his anger suddenly kindled, and he said, with vehemence, 'Did not you

tell him not to come? Am I to be _hunted_ in this manner?' I satisfied

him that I could not divine that the visit would not be convenient, and

that I certainly could not take it upon me of my own accord to forbid

the General.

I found Dr. Johnson in the evening in Mrs. Williams's room, at tea and

coffee with her and Mrs. Desmoulins, who were also both ill; it was a

sad scene, and he was not in very good humour. He said of a performance

that had lately come out, 'Sir, if you should search all the madhouses

in England, you would not find ten men who would write so, and think

it sense.'

I was glad when General Oglethorpe's arrival was announced, and we left

the ladies. Dr. Johnson attended him in the parlour, and was as

courteous as ever. The General said he was busy reading the writers of

the middle age. Johnson said they were very curious. OGLETHORPE. 'The

House of Commons has usurped the power of the nation's money, and used

it tyrannically. Government is now carried on by corrupt influence,

instead of the inherent right in the King.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, the want of

inherent right in the King occasions all this disturbance. What we did

at the Revolution was necessary: but it broke our constitution[527].'

OGLETHORPE. 'My father did not think it necessary.'

On Sunday, March 23, I breakfasted with Dr. Johnson, who seemed much

relieved, having taken opium the night before. He however protested

against it, as a remedy that should be given with the utmost reluctance,

and only in extreme necessity. I mentioned how commonly it was used in

Turkey, and that therefore it could not be so pernicious as he

apprehended. He grew warm and said, 'Turks take opium, and Christians

take opium; but Russel, in his _Account of Aleppo_[528], tells us, that

it is as disgraceful in Turkey to take too much opium, as it is with us

to get drunk. Sir, it is amazing how things are exaggerated. A gentleman

was lately telling in a company where I was present, that in France as

soon as a man of fashion marries, he takes an opera girl into keeping;

and this he mentioned as a general custom. 'Pray, Sir, (said I,) how

many opera girls may there be?' He answered, 'About fourscore.' Well

then, Sir, (said I,) you see there can be no more than fourscore men of

fashion who can do this[529].'

Mrs. Desmoulins made tea; and she and I talked before him upon a topick

which he had once borne patiently from me when we were by

ourselves[530],--his not complaining of the world, because he was not

called to some great office, nor had attained to great wealth. He flew

into a violent passion, I confess with some justice, and commanded us to

have done. 'Nobody, (said he) has a right to talk in this manner, to

bring before a man his own character, and the events of his life, when

he does not choose it should be done. I never have sought the world;

the world was not to seek me. It is rather wonderful that so much has

been done for me. All the complaints which are made of the world are

unjust[531]. I never knew a man of merit neglected[532]: it was

generally by his own fault that he failed of success. A man may hide his

head in a hole: he may go into the country, and publish a book now and

then, which nobody reads, and then complain he is neglected[533]. There

is no reason why any person should exert himself for a man who has

written a good book: he has not written it for any individual. I may as

well make a present to the postman who brings me a letter. When

patronage was limited, an authour expected to find a Maecenas, and

complained if he did not find one. Why should he complain? This Maecenas

has others as good as he, or others who have got the start of him.'

BOSWELL. 'But surely, Sir, you will allow that there are men of merit at

the bar, who never get practice.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, you are sure that

practice is got from an opinion that the person employed deserves it

best; so that if a man of merit at the bar does not get practice, it is

from errour, not from injustice. He is not neglected. A horse that is

brought to market may not be bought, though he is a very good horse: but

that is from ignorance, not from intention[534].'

There was in this discourse much novelty, ingenuity, and discrimination,

such as is seldom to be found. Yet I cannot help thinking that men of

merit, who have no success in life, may be forgiven for _lamenting_, if

they are not allowed to _complain_. They may consider it as _hard_ that

their merit should not have its suitable distinction. Though there is no

intentional injustice towards them on the part of the world, their merit

not having been perceived, they may yet repine against _fortune_, or

_fate_, or by whatever name they choose to call the supposed

mythological power of _Destiny_. It has, however, occurred to me, as a

consolatory thought, that men of merit should consider thus:-How much

harder would it be if the same persons had both all the merit and all

the prosperity. Would not this be a miserable distribution for the poor

dunces? Would men of merit exchange their intellectual superiority, and

the enjoyments arising from it, for external distinction and the

pleasures of wealth? If they would not, let them not envy others, who

are poor where they are rich, a compensation which is made to them. Let

them look inwards and be satisfied; recollecting with conscious pride

what Virgil finely says of the _Corycius Senex_, and which I have, in

another place[535], with truth and sincerity applied to Mr. Burke:--

'_Regum aequabat opes animis[536].'_

On the subject of the right employment of wealth, Johnson observed, 'A

man cannot make a bad use of his money, so far as regards Society, if he

does not hoard it; for if he either spends it or lends it out, Society

has the benefit. It is in general better to spend money than to give it

away; for industry is more promoted by spending money than by giving it

away. A man who spends his money is sure he is doing good with it: he is

not so sure when he gives it away. A man who spends ten thousand a year

will do more good than a man who spends two thousand and gives away

eight[537].'

In the evening I came to him again. He was somewhat fretful from his

illness. A gentleman[538] asked him, whether he had been abroad to-day.

'Don't talk so childishly, (said he.) You may as well ask if I hanged

myself to-day.' I mentioned politicks. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I'd as soon have a

man to break my bones as talk to me of publick affairs, internal or

external. I have lived to see things all as bad as they can be.'

Having mentioned his friend the second Lord Southwell, he said, 'Lord

Southwell was the highest-bred man without insolence that I ever was in

company with; the most _qualified_ I ever saw. Lord Orrery[539] was not

dignified: Lord Chesterfield was, but he was insolent[540]. Lord

----[541] is a man of coarse manners, but a man of abilities and

information. I don't say he is a man I would set at the head of a

nation, though perhaps he may be as good as the next Prime Minister that

comes; but he is a man to be at the head of a Club; I don't say _our_

CLUB; for there's no such Club.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, was he not once a

factious man?' JOHNSON. 'O yes, Sir; as factious a fellow as could be

found: one who was for sinking us all into the mob[542].' BOSWELL. 'How

then, Sir, did he get into favour with the King?' JOHNSON. 'Because,

Sir, I suppose he promised the King to do whatever the King pleased.'

He said, 'Goldsmith's blundering speech to Lord Shelburne, which has

been so often mentioned, and which he really did make to him, was only a

blunder in emphasis: "I wonder they should call your Lordship

_Malagrida_[543], for Malagrida was a very good man;" meant, I wonder

they should use _Malagrida_ as a term of reproach[544].'

Soon after this time I had an opportunity of seeing, by means of one of

his friends[545], a proof that his talents, as well as his obliging

service to authours, were ready as ever. He had revised _The Village_,

an admirable poem, by the Reverend Mr. Crabbe. Its sentiments as to the

false notions of rustick happiness and rustick virtue were quite

congenial with his own[546]; and he had taken the trouble not only to

suggest slight corrections and variations, but to furnish some lines,

when he thought he could give the writer's meaning better than in the

words of the manuscript[547].

On Sunday, March 30, I found him at home in the evening, and had the

pleasure to meet with Dr. Brocklesby[548], whose reading, and knowledge

of life, and good spirits, supply him with a never-failing source of

conversation. He mentioned a respectable gentleman, who became extremely

penurious near the close of his life. Johnson said there must have been

a degree of madness about him. 'Not at all, Sir, (said Dr. Brocklesby,)

his judgement was entire.' Unluckily, however, he mentioned that

although he had a fortune of twenty-seven thousand pounds, he denied

himself many comforts, from an apprehension that he could not afford

them. 'Nay, Sir, (cried Johnson,) when the judgement is so disturbed

that a man cannot count, that is pretty well.'

I shall here insert a few of Johnson's sayings, without the formality of

dates, as they have no reference to any particular time or place.

'The more a man extends and varies his acquaintance the better.' This,

however, was meant with a just restriction; for, he on another occasion

said to me, 'Sir, a man may be so much of every thing, that he is

nothing of any thing.'

'Raising the wages of day-labourers is wrong[549]; for it does not make

them live better, but only makes them idler, and idleness is a very bad

thing for human nature.'

'It is a very good custom to keep a journal[550] for a man's own use; he

may write upon a card a day all that is necessary to be written, after

he has had experience of life. At first there is a great deal to be

written, because there is a great deal of novelty; but when once a man

has settled his opinions, there is seldom much to be set down.'

'There is nothing wonderful in the journal which we see Swift kept in

London, for it contains slight topicks, and it might soon be

written[551].'

I praised the accuracy of an account-book of a lady whom I mentioned.

JOHNSON. 'Keeping accounts, Sir, is of no use when a man is spending his

own money, and has nobody to whom he is to account. You won't eat less

beef to-day, because you have written down what it cost yesterday.' I

mentioned another lady who thought as he did, so that her husband could

not get her to keep an account of the expence of the family, as she

thought it enough that she never exceeded the sum allowed her. JOHNSON.

'Sir, it is fit she should keep an account, because her husband wishes

it; but I do not see its use[552].' I maintained that keeping an account

has this advantage, that it satisfies a man that his money has not been

lost or stolen, which he might sometimes be apt to imagine, were there

no written state of his expence; and beside, a calculation of oeconomy

so as not to exceed one's income, cannot be made without a view of the

different articles in figures, that one may see how to retrench in some

particulars less necessary than others. This he did not attempt

to answer.

Talking of an acquaintance of ours[553], whose narratives, which

abounded in curious and interesting topicks, were unhappily found to be

very fabulous; I mentioned Lord Mansfield's having said to me, 'Suppose

we believe one _half_ of what he tells.' JOHNSON. 'Ay; but we don't know

_which_ half to believe. By his lying we lose not only our reverence for

him, but all comfort in his conversation.' BOSWELL. 'May we not take it

as amusing fiction?' JOHNSON. 'Sir, the misfortune is, that you will

insensibly believe as much of it as you incline to believe.'

It is remarkable, that notwithstanding their congeniality in politicks,

he never was acquainted with a late eminent noble judge[554], whom I

have heard speak of him as a writer, with great respect[555]. Johnson, I

know not upon what degree of investigation, entertained no exalted

opinion of his Lordship's intellectual character[556]. Talking of him to

me one day, he said, 'It is wonderful, Sir, with how little real

superiority of mind men can make an eminent figure in publick life.' He

expressed himself to the same purpose concerning another law-Lord, who,

it seems, once took a fancy to associate with the wits of London; but

with so little success, that Foote said, 'What can he mean by coming

among us? He is not only dull himself, but the cause of dullness in

others[557].' Trying him by the test of his colloquial powers, Johnson

had found him very defective. He once said to Sir Joshua Reynolds, 'This

man now has been ten years about town, and has made nothing of it;'

meaning as a companion[558]. He said to me, 'I never heard any thing

from him in company that was at all striking; and depend upon it, Sir,

it is when you come close to a man in conversation, that you discover

what his real abilities are; to make a speech in a publick assembly is a

knack. Now I honour Thurlow, Sir; Thurlow is a fine fellow; he fairly

puts his mind to yours[559].'

After repeating to him some of his pointed, lively sayings, I said, 'It

is a pity, Sir, you don't always remember your own good things, that you

may have a laugh when you will.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, it is better that I

forget them, that I may be reminded of them, and have a laugh on their

being brought to my recollection.'

When I recalled to him his having said as we sailed up Loch-lomond[560],

'That if he wore any thing fine, it should be _very_ fine;' I observed

that all his thoughts were upon a great scale. JOHNSON. 'Depend upon it,

Sir, every man will have as fine a thing as he can get; as a large

diamond for his ring.' BOSWELL. 'Pardon me, Sir: a man of a narrow mind

will not think of it, a slight trinket will satisfy him:

"_Nee sufferre queat majoris pondera gemmae_[561]."'

I told him I should send him some Essays which I had written[562], which

I hoped he would be so good as to read, and pick out the good ones.

JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, send me only the good ones; don't make _me_

pick them.'

I heard him once say, 'Though the proverb _Nullum numen abest, si sit

prudentia[563], does not always prove true, we may be certain of the

converse of it, _Nullum numen adest, si sit imprudentia_.'

Once, when Mr. Seward was going to Bath, and asked his commands, he

said, 'Tell Dr. Harrington that I wish he would publish another volume

of the _Nugae antiquae_[564]; it is a very pretty book[565].' Mr. Seward

seconded this wish, and recommended to Dr. Harrington to dedicate it to

Johnson, and take for his motto, what Catullus says to Cornelius Nepos:--

'----_namque tu solebas,

Meas esse aliquid putare_ NUGAS[566].'

As a small proof of his kindliness and delicacy of feeling, the

following circumstance may be mentioned: One evening when we were in the

street together, and I told him I was going to sup at Mr. Beauclerk's,

he said, 'I'll go with you.' After having walked part of the way,

seeming to recollect something, he suddenly stopped and said, 'I cannot

go,--but _I do not love Beauclerk the less_.'

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