What follows is a beautiful specimen of his gentleness and complacency
to a young lady his god-child, one of the daughters of his friend Mr.
Langton, then I think in her seventh year. He took the trouble to write
it in a large round hand, nearly resembling printed characters, that she
might have the satisfaction of reading it herself. The original lies
before me, but shall be faithfully restored to her; and I dare say will
be preserved by her as a jewel as long as she lives[834].
'To Miss JANE LANGTON, IN ROCHESTER, KENT.
'MY DEAREST MISS JENNY,
'I am sorry that your pretty letter has been so long without being
answered; but, when I am not pretty well, I do not always write plain
enough for young ladies. I am glad, my dear, to see that you write so
well, and hope that you mind your pen, your book, and your needle, for
they are all necessary. Your books will give you knowledge, and make you
respected; and your needle will find you useful employment when you do
not care to read. When you are a little older, I hope you will be very
diligent in learning arithmetick[835], and, above all, that through your
whole life you will carefully say your prayers, and read your Bible.
'I am, my dear,
'Your most humble servant,
'SAM. JOHNSON.'
'May 10, 1784.'
On Wednesday, May 5, I arrived in London, and next morning had the
pleasure to find Dr. Johnson greatly recovered. I but just saw him; for
a coach was waiting to carry him to Islington, to the house of his
friend the Reverend Mr. Strahan, where he went sometimes for the benefit
of good air, which, notwithstanding his having formerly laughed at the
general opinion upon the subject, he now acknowledged was conducive
to health.
One morning afterwards, when I found him alone, he communicated to me,
with solemn earnestness, a very remarkable circumstance which had
happened in the course of his illness, when he was much distressed by
the dropsy. He had shut himself up, and employed a day in particular
exercises of religion,--fasting, humiliation, and prayer. On a sudden he
obtained extraordinary relief, for which he looked up to Heaven with
grateful devotion. He made no direct inference from this fact; but from
his manner of telling it, I could perceive that it appeared to him as
something more than an incident in the common course of events[836]. For
my own part, I have no difficulty to avow that cast of thinking, which
by many modern pretenders to wisdom is called _superstitious_. But here
I think even men of dry rationality may believe, that there was an
intermediate[837] interposition of Divine Providence, and that 'the
fervent prayer of this righteous man[838]' availed[839].
On Sunday, May 9, I found Colonel Valiancy, the celebrated antiquarian
and Engineer of Ireland, with him. On Monday, the 10th, I dined with him
at Mr. Paradise's, where was a large company; Mr. Bryant, Mr. Joddrel,
Mr. Hawkins Browne, &c. On Thursday, the 13th, I dined with him at Mr.
Joddrel's, with another large company; the Bishop of Exeter, Lord
Monboddo[840], Mr. Murphy, &c.
On Saturday, May 15[841], I dined with him at Dr. Brocklesby's, where
were Colonel Vallancy, Mr. Murphy, and that ever-cheerful companion Mr.
Devaynes, apothecary to his Majesty. Of these days, and others on which
I saw him, I have no memorials, except the general recollection of his
being able and animated in conversation, and appearing to relish society
as much as the youngest man. I find only these three small
particulars:--When a person was mentioned, who said, 'I have lived
fifty-one years in this world without having had ten minutes of
uneasiness;' he exclaimed, 'The man who says so, lies: he attempts to
impose on human credulity.' The Bishop of Exeter in vain observed, that
men were very different. His Lordship's manner was not impressive, and
I learnt afterwards that Johnson did not find out that the person who
talked to him was a Prelate; if he had, I doubt not that he would have
treated him with more respect; for once talking of George
Psalmanazar[842], whom he reverenced for his piety, he said, 'I should
as soon think of contradicting a BISHOP[843].' One of the company[844]
provoked him greatly by doing what he could least of all bear, which was
quoting something of his own writing, against what he then maintained.
'What, Sir, (cried the gentleman,) do you say to
"The busy day, the peaceful night,
Unfelt, uncounted, glided by[845]?"'--
Johnson finding himself thus presented as giving an instance of a man
who had lived without uneasiness, was much offended, for he looked upon
such a quotation as unfair. His anger burst out in an unjustifiable
retort, insinuating that the gentleman's remark was a sally of ebriety;
'Sir, there is one passion I would advise you to command: when you have
drunk out that glass, don't drink another[846].' Here was exemplified
what Goldsmith said of him, with the aid of a very witty image from one
of Cibber's Comedies: 'There is no arguing with Johnson; for if his
pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it[847].'
Another was this: when a gentleman[848] of eminence in the literary
world was violently censured for attacking people by anonymous
paragraphs in newspapers; he, from the spirit of contradiction as I
thought, took up his defence, and said, 'Come, come, this is not so
terrible a crime; he means only to vex them a little. I do not say that
I should do it; but there is a great difference between him and me; what
is fit for Hephaestion is not fit for Alexander.' Another, when I told
him that a young and handsome Countess had said to me, 'I should think
that to be praised by Dr. Johnson would make one a fool all one's life;'
and that I answered, 'Madam, I shall make him a fool to-day, by
repeating this to him,' he said, 'I am too old to be made a fool; but if
you say I am made a fool, I shall not deny it. I am much pleased with a
compliment, especially from a pretty woman.'
On the evening of Saturday, May 15, he was in fine spirits, at our
Essex-Head Club. He told us, 'I dined yesterday at Mrs. Garrick's, with
Mrs. Carter[849], Miss Hannah More, and Miss Fanny Burney. Three such
women are not to be found: I know not where I could find a fourth,
except Mrs. Lennox, who is superiour to them all[850].' BOSWELL. 'What!
had you them all to yourself, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'I had them all as much as
they were had; but it might have been better had there been more company
there.' BOSWELL. 'Might not Mrs. Montagu have been a fourth?' JOHNSON.
'Sir, Mrs. Montagu does not make a trade of her wit; but Mrs. Montagu is
a very extraordinary woman; she has a constant stream of conversation,
and it is always impregnated; it has always meaning[851].' BOSWELL. 'Mr.
Burke has a constant stream of conversation.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; if a
man were to go by chance at the same time with Burke under a shed, to
shun a shower, he would say--"this is an extraordinary man." If Burke
should go into a stable to see his horse drest, the ostler would
say--we have had an extraordinary man here[852].' BOSWELL. 'Foote was a
man who never failed in conversation. If he had gone into a stable--'
JOHNSON. 'Sir, if he had gone into a stable, the ostler would have said,
here has been a comical fellow; but he would not have respected him.'
BOSWELL. 'And, Sir, the ostler would have answered him, would have given
him as good as he brought, as the common saying is.' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir;
and Foote would have answered the ostler.--When Burke does not descend
to be merry, his conversation is very superiour indeed. There is no
proportion between the powers which he shews in serious talk and in
jocularity. When he lets himself down to that, he is in the
kennel[853].' I have in another place[854] opposed, and I hope with
success, Dr. Johnson's very singular and erroneous notion as to Mr.
Burke's pleasantry. Mr. Windham now said low to me, that he differed
from our great friend in this observation; for that Mr. Burke was often
very happy in his merriment. It would not have been right for either of
us to have contradicted Johnson at this time, in a Society all of whom
did not know and value Mr. Burke as much as we did. It might have
occasioned something more rough, and at any rate would probably have
checked the flow of Johnson's good-humour. He called to us with a sudden
air of exultation, as the thought started into his mind, 'O! Gentlemen,
I must tell you a very great thing. The Empress of Russia has ordered
the _Rambler_ to be translated into the Russian language[855]: so I
shall be read on the banks of the Wolga. Horace boasts that his fame
would extend as far as the banks of the Rhone[856]; now the Wolga is
farther from me than the Rhone was from Horace.' BOSWELL. 'You must
certainly be pleased with this, Sir.' JOHNSON. 'I am pleased Sir, to be
sure. A man is pleased to find he has succeeded in that which he has
endeavoured to do.'
One of the company mentioned his having seen a noble person driving in
his carriage, and looking exceedingly well, notwithstanding his great
age. JOHNSON. 'Ah, Sir; that is nothing. Bacon observes, that a stout
healthy old man is like a tower undermined.'
On Sunday, May 16, I found him alone; he talked of Mrs. Thrale with much
concern, saying, 'Sir, she has done every thing wrong, since Thrale's
bridle was off her neck;' and was proceeding to mention some
circumstances which have since been the subject of publick
discussion[857], when he was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Douglas,
now Bishop of Salisbury.
Dr. Douglas, upon this occasion, refuted a mistaken notion which is very
common in Scotland, that the ecclesiastical discipline of the Church of
England, though duly enforced, is insufficient to preserve the morals of
the clergy, inasmuch as all delinquents may be screened by appealing to
the Convocation, which being never authorized by the King to sit for
the dispatch of business, the appeal never can be heard. Dr. Douglas
observed, that this was founded upon ignorance; for that the Bishops
have sufficient power to maintain discipline, and that the sitting of
the Convocation was wholly immaterial in this respect, it being not a
Court of judicature, but like a parliament, to make Canons and
regulations as times may require.
Johnson, talking of the fear of death, said, 'Some people are not
afraid, because they look upon salvation as the effect of an absolute
decree, and think they feel in themselves the marks of sanctification.
Others, and those the most rational in my opinion, look upon salvation
as conditional; and as they never can be sure that they have complied
with the conditions, they are afraid[858].'
In one of his little manuscript diaries, about this time, I find a short
notice, which marks his amiable disposition more certainly than a
thousand studied declarations.--'Afternoon spent cheerfully and
elegantly, I hope without offence to GOD or man; though in no holy duty,
yet in the general exercise and cultivation of benevolence.'
On Monday, May 17, I dined with him at Mr. Dilly's, where were Colonel
Valiancy, the Reverend Dr. Gibbons[859], and Mr. Capel Lofft, who,
though a most zealous Whig, has a mind so full of learning and
knowledge, and so much exercised in various departments, and withal so
much liberality, that the stupendous powers of the literary Goliath,
though they did not frighten this little David of popular spirit, could
not but excite his admiration[860]. There was also Mr. Braithwaite of
the Post-office, that amiable and friendly man, who, with modest and
unassuming manners, has associated with many of the wits of the age.
Johnson was very quiescent to-day. Perhaps too I was indolent. I find
nothing more of him in my notes, but that when I mentioned that I had
seen in the King's library sixty-three editions of my favourite _Thomas
à Kempis_, amongst which it was in eight languages, Latin, German,
French, Italian, Spanish, English, Arabick, and Armenian, he said, he
thought it unnecessary to collect many editions of a book, which were
all the same, except as to the paper and print; he would have the
original, and all the translations, and all the editions which had any
variations in the text. He approved of the famous collection of editions
of _Horace_ by Douglas, mentioned by Pope[861], who is said to have had
a closet filled with them; and he added, 'every man should try to
collect one book in that manner, and present it to a publick library.'
On Tuesday, May 18, I saw him for a short time in the morning. I told
him that the mob had called out, as the King passed[862], 'No Fox--No
Fox,' which I did not like. He said, 'They were right, Sir.' I said, I
thought not; for it seemed to be making Mr. Fox the King's
competitor[863]. There being no audience, so that there could be no
triumph in a victory, he fairly agreed with me[864]. I said it might do
very well, if explained thus:--'Let us have no Fox;' understanding it as
a prayer to his Majesty not to appoint that gentleman minister.
On Wednesday, May 19, I sat a part of the evening with him, by
ourselves. I observed, that the death of our friends might be a
consolation against the fear of our own dissolution, because we might
have more friends in the other world than in this. He perhaps felt this
as a reflection upon his apprehension as to death; and said, with heat,
'How can a man know _where_ his departed friends are, or whether they
will be his friends in the other world[865]? How many friendships have
you known formed upon principles of virtue? Most friendships are formed
by caprice or by chance, mere confederacies in vice or leagues
in folly.'
We talked of our worthy friend Mr. Langton. He said, 'I know not who
will go to Heaven if Langton does not. Sir, I could almost say, _Sit
anima mea cum Langtono_' I mentioned a very eminent friend[866] a
virtuous man. JOHNSON. 'Yes, Sir; but ---- has not the evangelical
virtue of Langton. ----, I am afraid, would not scruple to pick up
a wench.'
He however charged Mr. Langton with what he thought want of judgement
upon an interesting occasion. 'When I was ill, (said he) I desired he
would tell me sincerely in what he thought my life was faulty. Sir, he
brought me a sheet of paper, on which he had written down several texts
of Scripture, recommending christian charity. And when I questioned him
what occasion I had given for such an animadversion, all that he could
say amounted to this,--that I sometimes contradicted people in
conversation. Now what harm does it do to any man to be contradicted?'
BOSWELL. 'I suppose he meant the _manner_ of doing it; roughly,--and
harshly.' JOHNSON. 'And who is the worse for that?' BOSWELL. 'It hurts
people of weak nerves.' JOHNSON. 'I know no such weak-nerved
people[867].' Mr. Burke, to whom I related this conference, said, 'It is
well, if when a man comes to die, he has nothing heavier upon his
conscience than having been a little rough in conversation.'
Johnson, at the time when the paper was presented to him, though at
first pleased with the attention of his friend, whom he thanked in an
earnest manner, soon exclaimed, in a loud and angry tone, 'What is your
drift, Sir?' Sir Joshua Reynolds pleasantly observed, that it was a
scene for a comedy, to see a penitent get into a violent passion and
belabour his confessor[868].
I have preserved no more of his conversation at the times when I saw him
during the rest of this month, till Sunday, the 30th of May, when I met
him in the evening at Mr. Hoole's, where there was a large company both
of ladies and gentlemen; Sir James Johnston[869] happened to say, that
he paid no regard to the arguments of counsel at the bar of the House of
Commons, because they were paid for speaking. 'JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir,
argument is argument. You cannot help paying regard to their arguments,
if they are good. If it were testimony, you might disregard it, if you
knew that it were purchased. There is a beautiful image in Bacon[870]
upon this subject: testimony is like an arrow shot from a long bow; the
force of it depends on the strength of the hand that draws it. Argument
is like an arrow from a cross-bow, which has equal force though shot
by a child.'
He had dined that day at Mr. Hoole's, and Miss Helen Maria Williams
being expected in the evening, Mr. Hoole put into his hands her
beautiful _Ode on the Peace_[871]: Johnson read it over, and when this
elegant and accomplished young lady[872] was presented to him, he took
her by the hand in the most courteous manner, and repeated the finest
stanza of her poem; this was the most delicate and pleasing compliment
he could pay. Her respectable friend, Dr. Kippis, from whom I had this
anecdote, was standing by, and was not a little gratified.
Miss Williams told me, that the only other time she was fortunate enough
to be in Dr. Johnson's company, he asked her to sit down by him, which
she did, and upon her enquiring how he was, he answered, 'I am very ill
indeed, Madam. I am very ill even when you are near me; what should I be
were you at a distance?'[873]
He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his first jaunt after his
illness; we talked of it for some days, and I had promised to accompany
him. He was impatient, and fretful to-night, because I did not at once
agree to go with him on Thursday. When I considered how ill he had been,
and what allowance should be made for the influence of sickness upon his
temper, I resolved to indulge him, though with some inconvenience to
myself, as I wished to attend the musical meeting in honour of
Handel[874], in Westminster-Abbey, on the following Saturday.
In the midst of his own diseases and pains, he was ever compassionate to
the distresses of others, and actively earnest in procuring them aid, as
appears from a note to Sir Joshua Reynolds, of June, in these words:--'I
am ashamed to ask for some relief for a poor man, to whom, I hope, I
have given what I can be expected to spare. The man importunes me, and
the blow goes round. I am going to try another air on Thursday.'
On Thursday, June 3, the Oxford post-coach took us up in the morning at
Bolt-court. The other two passengers were Mrs. Beresford and her
daughter, two very agreeable ladies from America; they were going to
Worcestershire, where they then resided. Frank had been sent by his
master the day before to take places for us; and I found, from the
way-bill, that Dr. Johnson had made our names be put down. Mrs.
Beresford, who had read it, whispered me, 'Is this the great Dr.
Johnson?' I told her it was; so she was then prepared to listen. As she
soon happened to mention in a voice so low that Johnson did not hear it,
that her husband had been a member of the American Congress, I cautioned
her to beware of introducing that subject, as she must know how very
violent Johnson was against the people of that country. He talked a
great deal, but I am sorry I have preserved little of the conversation.
Miss Beresford was so much charmed, that she said to me aside, 'How he
does talk! Every sentence is an essay.' She amused herself in the coach
with knotting; he would scarcely allow this species of employment any
merit. 'Next to mere idleness (said he) I think knotting is to be
reckoned in the scale of insignificance; though I once attempted to
learn knotting. Dempster's sister (looking to me) endeavoured to teach
me it; but I made no progress[875].'
I was surprised at his talking without reserve in the publick post-coach
of the state of his affairs; 'I have (said he) about the world I think
above a thousand pounds, which I intend shall afford Frank an annuity of
seventy pounds a year.' Indeed his openness with people at a first
interview was remarkable. He said once to Mr. Langton, 'I think I am
like Squire Richard in _The Journey to London, "I'm never strange in a
strange place_[876]."' He was truly _social_. He strongly censured what
is much too common in England among persons of condition,--maintaining
an absolute silence, when unknown to each other; as for instance, when
occasionally brought together in a room before the master or mistress of
the house has appeared. 'Sir, that is being so uncivilised as not to
understand the common rights of humanity[877].'
At the inn where we stopped he was exceedingly dissatisfied with some
roast mutton which we had for dinner. The ladies I saw wondered to see
the great philosopher, whose wisdom and wit they had been admiring all
the way, get into ill-humour from such a cause. He scolded the waiter,
saying, 'It is as bad as bad can be: it is ill-fed, ill-killed,
ill-kept, and ill-drest[878].'
He bore the journey very well, and seemed to feel himself elevated as he
approached Oxford, that magnificent and venerable seat of learning,
Orthodoxy, and Toryism. Frank came in the heavy coach, in readiness to
attend him; and we were received with the most polite hospitality at the
house of his old friend Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, who had
given us a kind invitation. Before we were set down, I communicated to
Johnson, my having engaged to return to London directly, for the reason
I have mentioned, but that I would hasten back to him again. He was
pleased that I had made this journey merely to keep him company. He was
easy and placid, with Dr. Adams, Mrs. and Miss Adams, and Mrs. Kennicot,
widow of the learned Hebraean[879], who was here on a visit. He soon
dispatched the inquiries which were made about his illness and recovery,
by a short and distinct narrative; and then assuming a gay air, repeated
from Swift,--
'Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills[880].'
Dr. Newton, the Bishop of Bristol, having been mentioned, Johnson,
recollecting the manner in which he had been censured by that
Prelate[881], thus retaliated:-' Tom knew he should be dead before what
he has said of me would appear. He durst not have printed it while he
was alive.' DR. ADAMS. 'I believe his _Dissertations on the Prophecies_
is his great work.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, it is Tom's great work; but how
far it is great, or how much of it is Tom's, are other questions. I
fancy a considerable part of it was borrowed.' DR. ADAMS. 'He was a very
successful man.' JOHNSON. 'I don't think so, Sir. He did not get very
high. He was late in getting what he did get; and he did not get it by
the best means. I believe he was a gross flatterer[882].'
I fulfilled my intention by going to London, and returned to Oxford on
Wednesday the 9th of June, when I was happy to find myself again in the
same agreeable circle at Pembroke College, with the comfortable prospect
of making some stay. Johnson welcomed my return with more than
ordinary glee.
He talked with great regard of the Honourable Archibald Campbell, whose
character he had given at the Duke of Argyll's table, when we were at
Inverary[883]; and at this time wrote out for me, in his own hand, a
fuller account of that learned and venerable writer, which I have
published in its proper place. Johnson made a remark this evening which
struck me a good deal. 'I never (said he) knew a non-juror who could
reason[884].' Surely he did not mean to deny that faculty to many of
their writers; to Hickes, Brett[885], and other eminent divines of that
persuasion; and did not recollect that the seven Bishops, so justly
celebrated for their magnanimous resistance of arbitrary power, were yet
Nonjurors to the new Government[886]. The nonjuring clergy of Scotland,
indeed, who, excepting a few, have lately, by a sudden stroke, cut off
all ties of allegiance to the house of Stuart, and resolved to pray for
our present lawful Sovereign by name, may be thought to have confirmed
this remark; as it may be said, that the divine indefeasible hereditary
right which they professed to believe, if ever true, must be equally
true still. Many of my readers will be surprized when I mention, that
Johnson assured me he had never in his life been in a nonjuring
meeting-house[887].
Next morning at breakfast, he pointed out a passage in Savage's
_Wanderer_, saying, 'These are fine verses.' 'If (said he) I had written
with hostility of Warburton in my _Shakspeare_, I should have quoted
this couplet:--
"Here Learning, blinded first and then beguil'd,
Looks dark as Ignorance, as Fancy wild[888]."
You see they'd have fitted him to a _T_,' (smiling.) DR. ADAMS. 'But you
did not write against Warburton.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, I treated him with
great respect both in my Preface and in my Notes[889].'
Mrs. Kennicot spoke of her brother, the Reverend Mr. Chamberlayne, who
had given up great prospects in the Church of England on his conversion
to the Roman Catholick faith. Johnson, who warmly admired every man who
acted from a conscientious regard to principle, erroneous or not,
exclaimed fervently, 'GOD bless him.'
Mrs. Kennicot, in confirmation of Dr. Johnson's opinion[890], that the
present was not worse than former ages, mentioned that her brother
assured her, there was now less infidelity on the Continent than there
had been; Voltaire and Rousseau were less read. I asserted, from good
authority, that Hume's infidelity was certainly less read. JOHNSON. 'All
infidel writers drop into oblivion, when personal connections and the
floridness of novelty are gone; though now and then a foolish fellow,
who thinks he can be witty upon them, may bring them again into notice.
There will sometimes start up a College joker, who does not consider
that what is a joke in a College will not do in the world. To such
defenders of Religion I would apply a stanza of a poem which I remember
to have seen in some old collection:--
"Henceforth be quiet and agree,
Each kiss his empty brother;
Religion scorns a foe like thee,
But dreads a friend like t'other."
The point is well, though the expression is not correct; _one_, and not
_thee, should be opposed to _t'other_[891].'
On the Roman Catholick religion he said, 'If you join the Papists
externally, they will not interrogate you strictly as to your belief in
their tenets. No reasoning Papist believes every article of their faith.
There is one side on which a good man might be persuaded to embrace it.
A good man of a timorous disposition, in great doubt of his acceptance
with GOD, and pretty credulous, might be glad to be of a church where
there, are so many helps to get to Heaven. I would be a Papist if I
could. I have fear enough; but an obstinate rationality prevents me. I
shall never be a Papist, unless on the near approach of death, of which
I have a very great terrour. I wonder that women are not all Papists.'
BOSWELL. 'They are not more afraid of death than men are.' JOHNSON.
'Because they are less wicked.' DR. ADAMS. 'They are more pious.'
JOHNSON. 'No, hang 'em, they are not more pious. A wicked fellow is the
most pious when he takes to it. He'll beat you all at piety.'
He argued in defence of some of the peculiar tenets of the Church of
Rome. As to the giving the bread only to the laity, he said, 'They may
think, that in what is merely ritual, deviations from the primitive mode
may be admitted on the ground of convenience, and I think they are as
well warranted to make this alteration, as we are to substitute
sprinkling in the room of the ancient baptism.' As to the invocation of
saints[892], he said, 'Though I do not think it authorised, it appears
to me, that "the communion of saints" in the Creed means the communion
with the saints in Heaven, as connected with "The holy Catholick
Church[893]."' He admitted the influence of evil spirits[894] upon our
minds, and said, 'Nobody who believes the New Testament can deny it.'
I brought a volume of Dr. Hurd the Bishop of Worcester's _Sermons_, and
read to the company some passages from one of them, upon this text,
'_Resist the Devil, and he will fly[895] from you.' James_, iv. 7. I was
happy to produce so judicious and elegant a supporter[896] of a
doctrine, which, I know not why, should, in this world of imperfect
knowledge, and, therefore, of wonder and mystery in a thousand
instances, be contested by some with an unthinking assurance and
flippancy.
After dinner, when one of us talked of there being a great enmity
between Whig and Tory;--JOHNSON. 'Why not so much, I think, unless when
they come into competition with each other. There is none when they are
only common acquaintance, none when they are of different sexes. A Tory
will marry into a Whig family, and a Whig into a Tory family, without
any reluctance. But indeed, in a matter of much more concern than
political tenets, and that is religion, men and women do not concern
themselves much about difference of opinion; and ladies set no value on
the moral character of men who pay their addresses to them; the greatest
profligate will be as well received as the man of the greatest virtue,
and this by a very good woman, by a woman who says her prayers three
times a day.' Our ladies endeavoured to defend their sex from this
charge; but he roared them down! 'No, no, a lady will take Jonathan Wild
as readily as St. Austin, if he has three-pence more; and, what is
worse, her parents will give her to him. Women have a perpetual envy of
our vices; they are less vicious than we, not from choice, but because
we restrict them; they are the slaves of order and fashion; their virtue
is of more consequence to us than our own, so far as concerns
this world.'
Miss Adams mentioned a gentleman of licentious character, and said,
'Suppose I had a mind to marry that gentleman, would my parents
consent?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, they'd consent, and you'd go. You'd go though
they did not consent.' MISS ADAMS. 'Perhaps their opposing might make me
go.' JOHNSON. 'O, very well; you'd take one whom you think a bad man, to
have the pleasure of vexing your parents. You put me in mind of Dr.
Barrowby[897], the physician, who was very fond of swine's flesh. One
day, when he was eating it, he said, 'I wish I was a Jew.' 'Why so?
(said somebody); the Jews are not allowed to eat your favourite meat.'
'Because, (said he,) I should then have the gust of eating it, with the
pleasure of sinning.' Johnson then proceeded in his declamation.
Miss Adams soon afterwards made an observation that I do not recollect,
which pleased him much: he said with a good-humoured smile, 'That there
should be so much excellence united with so much _depravity_,
is strange.'
Indeed, this lady's good qualities, merit, and accomplishments, and her
constant attention to Dr. Johnson, were not lost upon him. She happened
to tell him that a little coffee-pot, in which she had made his coffee,
was the only thing she could call her own. He turned to her with a
complacent gallantry, 'Don't say so, my dear; I hope you don't reckon my
heart as nothing.'
I asked him if it was true as reported, that he had said lately, 'I am
for the King against Fox; but I am for Fox against Pitt.' JOHNSON. 'Yes,
Sir; the King is my master; but I do not know Pitt; and Fox is my
friend[898].'
'Fox, (added he,) is a most extraordinary man; here is a man (describing
him in strong terms of objection in some respects according as he
apprehended, but which exalted his abilities the more) who has divided
the Kingdom with Caesar[899]; so that it, was a doubt whether the nation
should be ruled by the sceptre of George the Third, or the tongue
of Fox.'
Dr. Wall, physician at Oxford, drank tea with us. Johnson had in
general a peculiar pleasure in the company of physicians, which was
certainly not abated by the conversation of this learned, ingenious, and
pleasing gentleman. Johnson said, 'It is wonderful how little good
Radcliffe's travelling fellowships[900] have done. I know nothing that
has been imported by them; yet many additions to our medical knowledge
might be got in foreign countries. Inoculation, for instance, has saved
more lives than war destroys[901]: and the cures performed by the
Peruvian-bark are innumerable. But it is in vain to send our travelling
physicians to France, and Italy, and Germany, for all that is known
there is known here; I'd send them out of Christendom; I'd send them
among barbarous nations.'
On Friday, June 11, we talked at breakfast, of forms of prayer. JOHNSON.
'I know of no good prayers but those in the _Book of Common Prayer_.'
DR. ADAMS, (in a very earnest manner): 'I wish, Sir, you would compose
some family prayers.' JOHNSON. 'I will not compose prayers for you, Sir,
because you can do it for yourself. But I have thought of getting
together all the books of prayers which I could, selecting those which
should appear to me the best, putting out some, inserting others, adding
some prayers of my own, and prefixing a discourse on prayer.' We all now
gathered about him, and two or three of us at a time joined in pressing
him to execute this plan. He seemed to be a little displeased at the
manner of our importunity, and in great agitation called out, 'Do not
talk thus of what is so aweful. I know not what time GOD will allow me
in this world. There are many things which I wish to do.' Some of us
persisted, and Dr. Adams said, 'I never was more serious about any thing
in my life.' JOHNSON. 'Let me alone, let me alone; I am overpowered.'
And then he put his hands before his face, and reclined for some time
upon the table[902].
I mentioned Jeremy Taylor's using, in his forms of prayer, 'I am the
chief of sinners,' and other such self-condemning expressions[903].
'Now, (said I) this cannot be said with truth by every man, and
therefore is improper for a general printed form. I myself cannot say
that I am the worst of men; I _will_ not say so.' JOHNSON. 'A man may
know, that physically, that is, in the real state of things, he is not
the worst man; but that morally he may be so. Law observes that "Every
man knows something worse of himself, than he is sure of in
others[904]." You may not have committed such crimes as some men have
done; but you do not know against what degree of light they have sinned.
Besides, Sir, "the chief of sinners" is a mode of expression for "I am a
great sinner." So St. Paul, speaking of our SAVIOUR'S having died to
save sinners, says, "of whom I am the chief[905];" yet he certainly did
not think himself so bad as Judas Iscariot.' BOSWELL. 'But, Sir, Taylor
means it literally, for he founds a conceit upon it. When praying for
the conversion of sinners, and of himself in particular, he says, "LORD,
thou wilt not leave thy _chief_ work undone." JOHNSON. 'I do not approve
of figurative expressions in addressing the Supreme Being; and I never
use them[906]. Taylor gives a very good advice: "Never lie in your
prayers; never confess more than you really believe; never promise more
than you mean to perform[907]." I recollected this precept in his
_Golden Grove_; but his _example_ for prayer contradicts his _precept_.'
Dr. Johnson and I went in Dr. Adams's coach to dine with Dr. Nowell,
Principal of St. Mary Hall, at his beautiful villa at Iffley, on the
banks of the Isis, about two miles from Oxford. While we were upon the
road, I had the resolution to ask Johnson whether he thought that the
roughness of his manner had been an advantage or not, and if he would
not have done more good if he had been more gentle. I proceeded to
answer myself thus: 'Perhaps it has been of advantage, as it has given
weight to what you said: you could not, perhaps, have talked with such
authority without it.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; I have done more good as I am.
Obscenity and Impiety have always been repressed in my company[908].'
BOSWELL. 'True, Sir; and that is more than can be said of every Bishop.
Greater liberties have been taken in the presence of a Bishop, though a
very good man, from his being milder, and therefore not commanding such
awe. Yet, Sir, many people who might have been benefited by your
conversation, have been frightened away. A worthy friend of ours[909]
has told me, that he has often been afraid to talk to you.' JOHNSON.
'Sir, he need not have been afraid, if he had any thing rational to say.
If he had not, it was better he did not talk[910].
Dr. Nowell is celebrated for having preached a sermon before the House
of Commons, on the 3Oth of January, 1773, full of high Tory sentiments,
for which he was thanked as usual, and printed it at their request; but,
in the midst of that turbulence and faction which disgraced a part of
the present reign, the thanks were afterwards ordered to be
expunged[911]. This strange conduct sufficiently exposes itself; and Dr.
Nowell will ever have the honour which is due to a lofty friend of our
monarchical constitution. Dr. Johnson said to me, 'Sir, the Court will
be very much to blame, if he is not promoted.' I told this to Dr.
Nowell, and asserting my humbler, though not less zealous exertions in
the same cause, I suggested that whatever return we might receive, we
should still have the consolation of being like Butler's steady and
generous Royalist,
'True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not shone upon[912].'
We were well entertained and very happy at Dr. Nowell's, where was a
very agreeable company, and we drank 'Church and King' after dinner,
with true Tory cordiality.
We talked of a certain clergyman[913] of extraordinary character, who
by exerting his talents in writing on temporary topicks, and displaying
uncommon intrepidity, had raised himself to affluence. I maintained that
we ought not to be indignant at his success; for merit of every sort was
entitled to reward. JOHNSON. 'Sir, I will not allow this man to have
merit. No, Sir; what he has is rather the contrary; I will, indeed,
allow him courage, and on this account we so far give him credit. We
have more respect for a man who robs boldly on the highway, than for a
fellow who jumps out of a ditch, and knocks you down behind your back.
Courage is a quality so necessary for maintaining virtue, that it is
always respected, even when it is associated with vice[914].
I censured the coarse invectives which were become fashionable in the
House of Commons[915], and said that if members of parliament must
attack each other personally in the heat of debate, it should be done
more genteely. JOHNSON. 'No, Sir; that would be much worse. Abuse is not
so dangerous when there is no vehicle of wit or delicacy, no subtle
conveyance. The difference between coarse and refined abuse is as the
difference between being bruised by a club, and wounded by a poisoned
arrow.' I have since observed his position elegantly expressed by
Dr. Young:--
'As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart,
Good breeding sends the satire to the heart[916].'
On Saturday, June 12, there drank tea with us at Dr. Adams's, Mr. John
Henderson, student of Pembroke-College, celebrated for his wonderful
acquirements in Alchymy, Judicial Astrology, and other abstruse and
curious learning[917]; and the Reverend Herbert Croft, who, I am afraid,
was somewhat mortified by Dr. Johnson's not being highly pleased with
some _Family Discourses_, which he had printed; they were in too
familiar a style to be approved of by so manly a mind. I have no note of
this evening's conversation, except a single fragment. When I mentioned
Thomas Lord Lyttelton's vision[918], the prediction of the time of his
death, and its exact fulfilment;--JOHNSON. 'It is the most extraordinary
thing that has happened in my day. I heard it with my own ears, from his
uncle, Lord Westcote. I am so glad to have every evidence of the
spiritual world, that I am willing to believe it.' DR. ADAMS. 'You have
evidence enough; good evidence, which needs not such support.' JOHNSON.
'I like to have more[919].'
Mr. Henderson, with whom I had sauntered in the venerable walks of
Merton-College, and found him a very learned and pious man, supped with
us. Dr. Johnson surprised him not a little, by acknowledging with a look
of horrour, that he was much oppressed by the fear of death[920]. The
amiable Dr. Adams suggested that GOD was infinitely good. JOHNSON. 'That
he is infinitely good, as far as the perfection of his nature will
allow, I certainly believe; but it is necessary for good upon the whole,
that individuals should be punished. As to an _individual_, therefore,
he is not infinitely good; and as I cannot be _sure_ that I have
fulfilled the conditions on which salvation is granted, I am afraid I
may be one of those who shall be damned.' (looking dismally.) DR. ADAMS.
'What do you mean by damned?' JOHNSON. (passionately and loudly) 'Sent
to Hell, Sir, and punished everlastingly[921].' DR. ADAMS. 'I don't
believe that doctrine.' JOHNSON. 'Hold, Sir, do you believe that some
will be punished at all?' DR. ADAMS. 'Being excluded from Heaven will be
a punishment; yet there may be no great positive suffering.' JOHNSON.
'Well, Sir; but, if you admit any degree of punishment, there is an end
of your argument for infinite goodness simply considered; for, infinite
goodness would inflict no punishment whatever. There is not infinite
goodness physically considered; morally there is.' BOSWELL. 'But may not
a man attain to such a degree of hope as not to be uneasy from the fear
of death?' JOHNSON. 'A man may have such a degree of hope as to keep him
quiet. You see I am not quiet, from the vehemence with which I talk;
but I do not despair.' MRS. ADAMS. 'You seem, Sir, to forget the merits
of our Redeemer.' JOHNSON. 'Madam, I do not forget the merits of my
Redeemer; but my Redeemer has said that he will set some on his right
hand and some on his left.' He was in gloomy agitation, and said, 'I'll
have no more on't[922].' If what has now been stated should be urged by
the enemies of Christianity, as if its influence on the mind were not
benignant, let it be remembered, that Johnson's temperament was
melancholy, of which such direful apprehensions of futurity are often a
common effect. We shall presently see that when he approached nearer to
his aweful change, his mind became tranquil, and he exhibited as much
fortitude as becomes a thinking man in that situation.
From the subject of death we passed to discourse of life, whether it was
upon the whole more happy or miserable. Johnson was decidedly for the
balance of misery[923]: in confirmation of which I maintained, that no
man would choose to lead over again the life which he had experienced.
Johnson acceded to that opinion in the strongest terms[924]. This is an
inquiry often made; and its being a subject of disquisition is a proof
that much misery presses upon human feelings; for those who are
conscious of a felicity of existence, would never hesitate to accept of
a repetition of it. I have met with very few who would. I have heard Mr.
Burke make use of a very ingenious and plausible argument on this
subject;--'Every man (said he) would lead his life over again; for,
every man is willing to go on and take an addition to his life, which,
as he grows older, he has no reason to think will be better, or even so
good as what has preceded.' I imagine, however, the truth is, that there
is a deceitful hope that the next part of life will be free from the
pains, and anxieties, and sorrows, which we have already felt[925]. We
are for wise purposes 'Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine;' as Johnson
finely says[926]; and I may also quote the celebrated lines of Dryden,
equally philosophical and poetical:--
'When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat,
Yet fool'd with hope, men favour the deceit:
Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay;
To-morrow's falser than the former day;
Lies worse; and while it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possest.
Strange cozenage! none would live past years again;
Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain;
And from the dregs of life think to receive,
What the first sprightly running could not give[927].'
It was observed to Dr. Johnson, that it seemed strange that he, who has
so often delighted his company by his lively and brilliant conversation,
should say he was miserable. JOHNSON. 'Alas! it is all outside; I may be
cracking my joke[928], and cursing the sun. _Sun, how I hate thy
beams_[929]!' I knew not well what to think of this declaration; whether
to hold it as a genuine picture of his mind[930], or as the effect of
his persuading himself contrary to fact, that the position which he had
assumed as to human unhappiness, was true. We may apply to him a
sentence in Mr. Greville's[931] _Maxims, Characters, and
Reflections_[932]; a book which is entitled to much more praise than it
has received: 'ARISTARCHUS is charming: how full of knowledge, of sense,
of sentiment. You get him with difficulty to your supper; and after
having delighted every body and himself for a few hours, he is obliged
to return home;--he is finishing his treatise, to prove that unhappiness
is the portion of man[933].'
On Sunday, June 13, our philosopher was calm at breakfast. There was
something exceedingly pleasing in our leading a College life, without
restraint, and with superiour elegance, in consequence of our living in
the Master's house, and having the company of ladies. Mrs. Kennicot
related, in his presence, a lively saying of Dr. Johnson to Miss Hannah
More, who had expressed a wonder that the poet who had written _Paradise
Lost_ should write such poor Sonnets:--' Milton, Madam, was a genius
that could cut a Colossus from a rock; but could not carve heads upon
cherry-stones[934].'
We talked of the casuistical question, Whether it was allowable at any
time to depart from _Truth_? JOHNSON. 'The general rule is, that Truth
should never be violated, because it is of the utmost importance to the
comfort of life, that we should have a full security by mutual faith;
and occasional inconveniences should be willingly suffered that we may
preserve it. There must, however, be some exceptions. If, for instance,
a murderer should ask you which way a man is gone, you may tell him what
is not true, because you are under a previous obligation not to betray a
man to a murderer[935].' BOSWELL. 'Supposing the person who wrote
_Junius_ were asked whether he was the authour, might he deny it?'
JOHNSON. 'I don't know what to say to this. If you were _sure_ that he
wrote _Junius_, would you, if he denied it, think as well of him
afterwards? Yet it may be urged, that what a man has no right to ask,
you may refuse to communicate[936]; and there is no other effectual mode
of preserving a secret and an important secret, the discovery of which
may be very hurtful to you, but a flat denial; for if you are silent, or
hesitate, or evade, it will be held equivalent to a confession. But
stay, Sir; here is another case. Supposing the authour had told me
confidentially that he had written _Junius_, and I were asked if he had,
I should hold myself at liberty to deny it, as being under a previous
promise, express or implied, to conceal it. Now what I ought to do for
the authour, may I not do for myself? But I deny the lawfulness of
telling a lie to a sick man for fear of alarming him. You have no
business with consequences; you are to tell the truth. Besides, you are
not sure what effect your telling him that he is in danger may have. It
may bring his distemper to a crisis, and that may cure him. Of all
lying, I have the greatest abhorrence of this, because I believe it has
been frequently practised on myself.'
I cannot help thinking that there is much weight in the opinion of those
who have held, that Truth, as an eternal and immutable principle, ought,
upon no account whatever, to be violated, from supposed previous or
superiour obligations, of which every man being to judge for himself,
there is great danger that we too often, from partial motives, persuade
ourselves that they exist; and probably whatever extraordinary instances
may sometimes occur, where some evil may be prevented by violating this
noble principle, it would be found that human happiness would, upon the
whole, be more perfect were Truth universally preserved.
In the notes to the _Dunciad_[937], we find the following verses,
addressed to Pope[938]:--
'While malice, Pope, denies thy page
Its own celestial fire;
While criticks, and while bards in rage
Admiring, won't admire:
While wayward pens thy worth assail,
And envious tongues decry;
These times, though many a friend bewail,
These times bewail not I.
But when the world's loud praise is thine,
And spleen no more shall blame;
When with thy Homer thou shalt shine
In one establish'd fame!
When none shall rail, and every lay
Devote a wreath to thee:
That day (for come it will) that day
Shall I lament to see.'
It is surely not a little remarkable, that they should appear without a
name. Miss Seward[939], knowing Dr. Johnson's almost universal and
minute literary information, signified a desire that I should ask him
who was the authour. He was prompt with his answer: 'Why, Sir, they were
written by one Lewis, who was either under-master or an usher of
Westminster-school, and published a Miscellany, in which _Grongar
Hill_[940] first came out[941].' Johnson praised them highly, and
repeated them with a noble animation. In the twelfth line, instead of
'one establish'd fame,' he repeated 'one unclouded flame,' which he
thought was the reading in former editions: but I believe was a flash of
his own genius. It is much more poetical than the other.
On Monday, June 14, and Tuesday, 15, Dr. Johnson and I dined, on one of
them, I forget which, with Mr. Mickle, translator of the _Lusiad_, at
Wheatley, a very pretty country place a few miles from Oxford; and on
the other with Dr. Wetherell, Master of University-College. From Dr.
Wetherell's he went to visit Mr. Sackville Parker, the bookseller; and
when he returned to us, gave the following account of his visit, saying,
'I have been to see my old friend, Sack. Parker; I find he has married
his maid; he has done right. She had lived with him many years in great
confidence, and they had mingled minds; I do not think he could have
found any wife that would have made him so happy. The woman was very
attentive and civil to me; she pressed me to fix a day for dining with
them, and to say what I liked, and she would be sure to get it for me.
Poor Sack! He is very ill, indeed. We parted as never to meet again. It
has quite broke me down.' This pathetic narrative was strangely
diversified with the grave and earnest defence of a man's having married
his maid. I could not but feel it as in some degree ludicrous.
In the morning of Tuesday, June 15, while we sat at Dr. Adams's, we
talked of a printed letter from the Reverend Herbert Croft[942], to a
young gentleman who had been his pupil, in which he advised him to read
to the end of whatever books he should begin to read. JOHNSON. 'This is
surely a strange advice; you may as well resolve that whatever men you
happen to get acquainted with, you are to keep to them for life. A book
may be good for nothing; or there may be only one thing in it worth
knowing; are we to read it all through[943]? These Voyages, (pointing to
the three large volumes of _Voyages to the South Sea_[944], which were
just come out) _who_ will read them through? A man had better work his
way before the mast, than read them through; they will be eaten by rats
and mice, before they are read through. There can be little
entertainment in such books; one set of Savages is like another.'
BOSWELL. 'I do not think the people of Otaheité can be reckoned
Savages.' JOHNSON. 'Don't cant in defence of Savages[945].' BOSWELL.
'They have the art of navigation.' JOHNSON. 'A dog or a cat can swim.'
BOSWELL. 'They carve very ingeniously.' JOHNSON. 'A cat can scratch, and
a child with a nail can scratch.' I perceived this was none of the
_mollia tempora fandi_[946]; so desisted.
Upon his mentioning that when he came to College he wrote his first
exercise twice over; but never did so afterwards[947]; MISS ADAMS. 'I
suppose, Sir, you could not make them better?' JOHNSON. 'Yes, Madam, to
be sure, I could make them better. Thought is better than no thought.'
MISS ADAMS. 'Do you think, Sir, you could make your _Ramblers_ better?'
JOHNSON. 'Certainly I could.' BOSWELL. 'I'll lay a bet, Sir, you
cannot.' JOHNSON. 'But I will, Sir, if I choose. I shall make the best
of them you shall pick out, better.' BOSWELL. 'But you may add to them.
I will not allow of that.' JOHNSON. 'Nay, Sir, there are three ways of
making them better;--putting out,--adding,--or correcting[948].'
During our visit at Oxford, the following conversation passed between
him and me on the subject of my trying my fortune at the English
bar[949]: Having asked whether a very extensive acquaintance in London,
which was very valuable, and of great advantage to a man at large, might
not be prejudicial to a lawyer, by preventing him from giving sufficient
attention to his business;--JOHNSON. 'Sir, you will attend to business,
as business lays hold of you. When not actually employed, you may see
your friends as much as you do now. You may dine at a Club every day,
and sup with one of the members every night; and you may be as much at
publick places as one who has seen them all would wish to be. But you
must take care to attend constantly in Westminster-Hall; both to mind
your business, as it is almost all learnt there, (for nobody reads now;)
and to shew that you want to have business[950]. And you must not be
too often seen at publick places, that competitors may not have it to
say, 'He is always at the Playhouse or at Ranelagh, and never to be
found at his chambers.' And, Sir, there must be a kind of solemnity in
the manner of a professional man. I have nothing particular to say to
you on the subject. All this I should say to any one; I should have said
it to Lord Thurlow twenty years ago.'
The PROFESSION may probably think this representation of what is
required in a Barrister who would hope for success, to be by much too
indulgent; but certain it is, that as
'The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame[951],'
some of the lawyers of this age who have risen high, have by no means
thought it absolutely necessary to submit to that long and painful
course of study which a Plowden, a Coke, and a Hale considered as
requisite. My respected friend, Mr. Langton, has shewn me in the
hand-writing of his grandfather[952], a curious account of a
conversation which he had with Lord Chief Justice Hale, in which that
great man tells him, 'That for two years after he came to the inn of
court, he studied sixteen hours a day; however (his Lordship added) that
by this intense application he almost brought himself to his grave,
though he were of a very strong constitution, and after reduced himself
to eight hours; but that he would not advise any body to so much; that
he thought six hours a day, with attention and constancy, was
sufficient; that a man must use his body as he would his horse, and his
stomach; not tire him at once, but rise with an appetite.[953]'
On Wednesday, June 19[954], Dr. Johnson and I returned to London; he
was not well to-day, and said very little, employing himself chiefly in
reading Euripides. He expressed some displeasure at me, for not
observing sufficiently the various objects upon the road. 'If I had your
eyes, Sir, (said he) I should count the passengers.' It was wonderful
how accurate his observation of visual objects was, notwithstanding his
imperfect eyesight, owing to a habit of attention[955]. That he was much
satisfied with the respect paid to him at Dr. Adams's is thus attested
by himself: 'I returned last night from Oxford, after a fortnight's
abode with Dr. Adams, who treated me as well as I could expect or wish;
and he that contents a sick man, a man whom it is impossible to please,
has surely done his part well[956].'
After his return to London from this excursion, I saw him frequently,
but have few memorandums: I shall therefore here insert some particulars
which I collected at various times.
The Reverend Mr. Astle, of Ashbourne, in Derbyshire, brother to the
learned and ingenious Thomas Astle[957], Esq., was from his early years
known to Dr. Johnson, who obligingly advised him as to his studies, and
recommended to him the following books, of which a list which he has
been pleased to communicate, lies before me in Johnson's own
hand-writing:--
_Universal History (ancient.)--Rollin's Ancient History.--Puffendorf's
Introduction to History.--Vertot's History of Knights of Malta.--
Vertot's Revolution of Portugal.--Vertot's Revolutions of Sweden.--
Carte's History of England.--Present State of England.--Geographical
Grammar.--Prideaux's Connection.--Nelson's Feasts and Fasts.--Duty of
Man.--Gentleman's Religion.--Clarendon's History.--Watts's Improvement
of the Mind.--Watts's Logick.--Nature Displayed.--Lowth's English
Grammar.--Blackwall on the Classicks.--Sherlock's Sermons.--Burnet's
Life of Hale.--Dupin's History of the Church.--Shuckford's
Connection.--Law's Serious Call.--Walton's Complete Angler.--Sandys's
Travels.--Sprat's History of the Royal Society.--England's
Gazetteer.--Goldsmith's Roman History.--Some Commentaries on the.
Bible_[958].
It having been mentioned to Dr. Johnson that a gentleman who had a son
whom he imagined to have an extreme degree of timidity, resolved to send
him to a publick school, that he might acquire confidence;--' Sir, (said
Johnson,) this is a preposterous expedient for removing his infirmity;
such a disposition should be cultivated in the shade. Placing him at a
publick school is forcing an owl upon day[959].'
Speaking of a gentleman whose house was much frequented by low company;
'Rags, Sir, (said he,) will always make their appearance where they have
a right to do it.'
Of the same gentleman's mode of living, he said, 'Sir, the servants,
instead of doing what they are bid, stand round the table in idle
clusters, gaping upon the guests; and seem as unfit to attend a company,
as to steer a man of war[960].'
A dull country magistrate[961] gave Johnson a long tedious account of
his exercising his criminal jurisdiction, the result of which was his
having sentenced four convicts to transportation. Johnson, in an agony
of impatience to get rid of such a companion, exclaimed, 'I heartily
wish, Sir, that I were a fifth.'
Johnson was present when a tragedy was read, in which there occurred
this line:--
'Who rules o'er freemen should himself be free[962].'
The company having admired it much, 'I cannot agree with you (said
Johnson:) It might as well be said,--
'Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat.'
He was pleased with the kindness of Mr. Cator, who was joined with him
in Mr. Thrale's important trust, and thus describes him[963]:--'There is
much good in his character, and much usefulness in his knowledge.' He
found a cordial solace at that gentleman's seat at Beckenham, in Kent,
which is indeed one of the finest places at which I ever was a guest;
and where I find more and more a hospitable welcome.
Johnson seldom encouraged general censure of any profession[964]; but he
was willing to allow a due share of merit to the various departments
necessary in civilised life. In a splenetick, sarcastical, or jocular
frame, however, he would sometimes utter a pointed saying of that
nature. One instance has been mentioned[965], where he gave a sudden
satirical stroke to the character of an _attorney_. The too
indiscriminate admission to that employment, which requires both
abilities and integrity, has given rise to injurious reflections, which
are totally inapplicable to many very respectable men who exercise it
with reputation and honour.
Johnson having argued for some time with a pertinacious gentleman; his
opponent, who had talked in a very puzzling manner, happened to say, 'I
don't understand you, Sir:' upon which Johnson observed, 'Sir, I have
found you an argument; but I am not obliged to find you an
understanding[966].'
Talking to me of Horry Walpole, (as Horace late Earl of Orford was
often called[967],) Johnson allowed that he got together a great many
curious little things, and told them in an elegant manner[968]. Mr.
Walpole thought Johnson a more amiable character after reading his
_Letters to Mrs. Thrale_: but never was one of the true admirers of that
great man[969]. We may suppose a prejudice conceived, if he ever heard
Johnson's account to Sir George Staunton[970], that when he made the
speeches in parliament for the _Gentleman's Magazine_, 'he always took
care to put Sir Robert Walpole in the wrong, and to say every thing he
could against the electorate of Hanover[971].' The celebrated _Heroick
Epistle_, in which Johnson is satyrically introduced, has been ascribed
both to Mr. Walpole and Mr. Mason. One day at Mr. Courtenay's, when a
gentleman expressed his opinion that there was more energy in that poem
than could be expected from Mr. Walpole; Mr. Warton, the late Laureat,
observed, 'It may have been written by Walpole, and _buckram'd_ by
Mason[972].'
He disapproved of Lord Hailes, for having modernised the language of the
ever-memorable John Hales of Eton[973], in an edition which his Lordship
published of that writer's works. 'An authour's language, Sir, (said
he,) is a characteristical part of his composition, and is also
characteristical of the age in which he writes. Besides, Sir, when the
language is changed we are not sure that the sense is the same. No, Sir;
I am sorry Lord Hailes has done this.'
Here it may be observed, that his frequent use of the expression, _No,
Sir_, was not always to intimate contradiction; for he would say so,
when he was about to enforce an affirmative proposition which had not
been denied, as in the instance last mentioned. I used to consider it as
a kind of flag of defiance; as if he had said, 'Any argument you may
offer against this, is not just. No, Sir, it is not.' It was like
Falstaff's 'I deny your Major[974].'
Sir Joshua Reynolds having said that he took the altitude of a man's
taste by his stories and his wit, and of his understanding by the
remarks which he repeated; being always sure that he must be a weak man
who quotes common things with an emphasis as if they were oracles;
Johnson agreed with him; and Sir Joshua having also observed that the
real character of a man was found out by his amusements,--Johnson added,
'Yes, Sir; no man is a hypocrite in his pleasures[975].'
I have mentioned Johnson's general aversion to a pun[976]. He once,
however, endured one of mine. When we were talking of a numerous company
in which he had distinguished himself highly, I said, 'Sir, you were a
COD surrounded by smelts. Is not this enough for you? at a time too when
you were not _fishing_ for a compliment?' He laughed at this with a
complacent approbation. Old Mr. Sheridan observed, upon my mentioning it
to him, 'He liked your compliment so well, he was willing to take it
with _pun sauce_.' For my own part, I think no innocent species of wit
or pleasantry should be suppressed; and that a good pun may be admitted
among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation.
Had Johnson treated at large _De Claris Oratoribus_[977], he might have
given us an admirable work. When the Duke of Bedford attacked the
ministry as vehemently as he could, for having taken upon them to extend
the time for the importation of corn[978], Lord Chatham, in his first
speech in the House of Lords, boldly avowed himself to be an adviser of
that measure. 'My colleagues, (said he,) as I was confined by
indisposition, did me the signal honour of coming to the bed-side of a
sick man, to ask his opinion. But, had they not thus condescended, I
should have _taken up my bed and walked_, in order to have delivered
that opinion at the Council-Board.' Mr. Langton, who was present,
mentioned this to Johnson, who observed, 'Now, Sir, we see that he took
these words as he found them; without considering, that though the
expression in Scripture, _take up thy bed and walk_[979], strictly
suited the instance of the sick man restored to health and strength, who
would of course be supposed to carry his bed with him, it could not be
proper in the case of a man who was lying in a state of feebleness, and
who certainly would not add to the difficulty of moving at all, that of
carrying his bed.'
When I pointed out to him in the newspaper one of Mr. Grattan's animated
and glowing speeches, in favour of the freedom of Ireland, in which this
expression occurred (I know not if accurately taken): 'We will
persevere, till there is not one link of the English chain left to clank
upon the rags of the meanest beggar in Ireland;' 'Nay, Sir, (said
Johnson,) don't you perceive that _one_ link cannot clank?'
Mrs. Thrale has published[980], as Johnson's, a kind of parody or
counterpart of a fine poetical passage in one of Mr. Burke's speeches on
American Taxation. It is vigorously but somewhat coarsely executed; and
I am inclined to suppose, is not quite correctly exhibited. I hope he
did not use the words _'vile agents'_ for the Americans in the House of
Parliament; and if he did so, in an extempore effusion, I wish the lady
had not committed it to writing[981].
Mr. Burke uniformly shewed Johnson the greatest respect; and when Mr.
Townshend, now lord Sydney, at a period when he was conspicuous in
opposition, threw out some reflection in parliament upon the grant of a
pension to a man of such political principles as Johnson; Mr. Burke,
though then of the same party with Mr. Townshend, stood warmly forth in
defence of his friend, to whom, he justly observed, the pension was
granted solely on account of his eminent literary merit. I am well
assured, that Mr. Townshend's attack upon Johnson was the occasion of
his 'hitching in a rhyme[982];' for, that in the original copy of
Goldsmith's character of Mr. Burke, in his _Retaliation_, another
person's name stood in the couplet where Mr. Townshend is now
introduced[983]:--
'Though fraught with all learning kept[984] straining his throat,
To persuade _Tommy Townshend_ to lend him a vote.'
It may be worth remarking, among the _minutiae_ of my collection, that
Johnson was once drawn to serve in the militia, the Trained Bands of the
City of London, and that Mr. Rackstrow, of the Museum in Fleet-street,
was his Colonel. It may be believed he did not serve in person; but the
idea, with all its circumstances, is certainly laughable. He upon that
occasion provided himself with a musket, and with a sword and belt,
which I have seen hanging in his closet.
He was very constant to those whom he once employed, if they gave him no
reason to be displeased. When somebody talked of being imposed on in the
purchase of tea and sugar, and such articles: 'That will not be the
case, (said he,) if you go to a _stately shop_, as I always do. In such
a shop it is not worth their while to take a petty advantage.'
An authour of most anxious and restless vanity being mentioned, 'Sir,
(said he,) there is not a young sapling upon Parnassus more severely
blown about by every wind of criticism than that poor fellow.'
The difference, he observed, between a well-bred and an ill-bred man is
this: 'One immediately attracts your liking, the other your aversion.
You love the one till you find reason to hate him; you hate the other
till you find reason to love him.'
The wife of one of his acquaintance had fraudulently made a purse for
herself out of her husband's fortune. Feeling a proper compunction in
her last moments, she confessed how much she had secreted; but before
she could tell where it was placed, she was seized with a convulsive fit
and expired. Her husband said, he was more hurt by her want of
confidence in him, than by the loss of his money. 'I told him, (said
Johnson,) that he should console himself: for _perhaps_ the money might
be _found_, and he was _sure_ that his wife was gone.'
A foppish physician once reminded Johnson of his having been in company
with him on a former occasion; 'I do not remember it, Sir.' The
physician still insisted; adding that he that day wore so fine a coat
that it must have attracted his notice. 'Sir, (said Johnson,) had you
been dipt in Pactolus[985] I should not have noticed you.'
He seemed to take a pleasure in speaking in his own style; for when he
had carelessly missed it, he would repeat the thought translated into
it[986]. Talking of the Comedy of _The Rehearsal_[987], he said, 'It has
not wit enough to keep it sweet.' This was easy; he therefore caught
himself, and pronounced a more round sentence; 'It has not vitality
enough to preserve it from putrefaction.'
He censured a writer of entertaining Travels[988] for assuming a feigned
character, saying, (in his sense of the word[989],) 'He carries out one
lye; we know not how many he brings back.'[990] At another time, talking
of the same person, he observed, 'Sir, your assent to a man whom you
have never known to falsify, is a debt: but after you have known a man
to falsify, your assent to him then is a favour.'
Though he had no taste for painting, he admired much the manner in which
Sir Joshua Reynolds treated of his art, in his _Discourses to the Royal
Academy_[991]. He observed one day of a passage in them, 'I think I
might as well have said this myself: 'and once when Mr. Langton was
sitting by him, he read one of them very eagerly, and expressed himself
thus:--'Very well, Master Reynolds; very well, indeed. But it will not
be understood.'
When I observed to him that Painting was so far inferiour to Poetry,
that the story or even emblem which it communicates must be previously
known, and mentioned as a natural and laughable instance of this, that a
little Miss on seeing a picture of Justice with the scales, had
exclaimed to me, 'See, there's a woman selling sweetmeats;' he said,
'Painting, Sir, can illustrate, but cannot inform.'
No man was more ready to make an apology when he had censured unjustly,
than Johnson[992]. When a proof-sheet of one of his works was brought to
him, he found fault with the mode in which a part of it was arranged,
refused to read it, and in a passion[993] desired that the
compositor[994] might be sent to him. The compositor was Mr. Manning, a
decent sensible man, who had composed about one half of his
_Dictionary_, when in Mr. Strahan's printing-house; and a great part of
his _Lives of the Poets_, when in that of Mr. Nichols; and who (in his
seventy-seventh year), when in Mr. Baldwin's printing-house, composed a
part of the first edition of this work concerning him. By producing the
manuscript, he at once satisfied Dr. Johnson that he was not to blame.
Upon which Johnson candidly and earnestly said to him, 'Mr. Compositor,
I ask your pardon. Mr. Compositor, I ask your pardon, again and again.'
His generous humanity to the miserable was almost beyond example. The
following instance is well attested:--Coming home late one night, he
found a poor woman lying in the street, so much exhausted that she could
not walk; he took her upon his back, and carried her to his house, where
he discovered that she was one of those wretched females who had fallen
into the lowest state of vice, poverty, and disease. Instead of harshly
upbraiding her, he had her taken care of with all tenderness for a long
time, at considerable expence, till she was restored to health, and
endeavoured to put her into a virtuous way of living[995].
He thought Mr. Caleb Whitefoord singularly happy in hitting on the
signature of _Papyrius Cursor_, to his ingenious and diverting
cross-readings of the newspapers; it being a real name of an ancient
Roman, and clearly expressive of the thing done in this lively
conceit[996].
He once in his life was known to have uttered what is called a _bull_:
Sir Joshua Reynolds, when they were riding together in Devonshire,
complained that he had a very bad horse, for that even when going down
hill he moved slowly step by step. 'Ay (said Johnson,) and when he
_goes_ up hill, he _stands still_.'
He had a great aversion to gesticulating in company. He called once to
a gentleman who offended him in that point, 'Don't _attitudenise_.' And
when another gentleman thought he was giving additional force to what he
uttered, by expressive movements of his hands, Johnson fairly seized
them, and held them down[997].
An authour of considerable eminence[998] having engrossed a good share
of the conversation in the company of Johnson, and having said nothing
but what was trifling and insignificant; Johnson when he was gone,
observed to us, 'It is wonderful what a difference there sometimes is
between a man's powers of writing and of talking. ---- writes with great
spirit, but is a poor talker; had he held his tongue we might have
supposed him to have been restrained by modesty; but he has spoken a
great deal to-day; and you have heard what stuff it was.'
A gentleman having said that a _congé d'élire_[999] has not, perhaps,
the force of a command, but may be considered only as a strong
recommendation; 'Sir, (replied Johnson, who overheard him,) it is such a
recommendation, as if I should throw you out of a two-pair of stairs
window, and recommend to you to fall soft[1000].'
Mr. Steevens, who passed many a social hour with him during their long
acquaintance, which commenced when they both lived in the Temple, has
preserved a good number of particulars concerning him, most of which are
to be found in the department of Apothegms, &c. in the Collection of
_Johnson's Works_[1001]. But he has been pleased to favour me with the
following, which are original:--
'One evening, previous to the trial of Barretti[1002], a consultation of
his friends was held at the house of Mr. Cox, the Solicitor, in
Southampton-buildings, Chancery-lane. Among others present were, Mr.
Burke and Dr. Johnson, who differed in sentiments concerning the
tendency of some part of the defence the prisoner was to make. When the
meeting was over, Mr. Steevens observed, that the question between him
and his friend had been agitated with rather too much warmth. "It may be
so, Sir, (replied the Doctor,) for Burke and I should have been of one
opinion, if we had had no audience[1003]."
'Dr. Johnson once assumed a character in which perhaps even Mr. Boswell
never saw him. His curiosity having been excited by the praises bestowed
on the celebrated Torré's fireworks at Marybone-Gardens, he desired Mr.
Steevens to accompany him thither. The evening had proved showery; and
soon after the few people present were assembled, publick notice was
given, that the conductors to the wheels, suns, stars, &c., were so
thoroughly water-soaked, that it was impossible any part of the
exhibition should be made. "This is a mere excuse, (says the Doctor,) to
save their crackers for a more profitable company. Let us but hold up
our sticks, and threaten to break those coloured lamps that surround the
Orchestra, and we shall soon have our wishes gratified. The core of the
fireworks cannot be injured; let the different pieces be touched in
their respective centers, and they will do their offices as well as
ever." Some young men who overheard him, immediately began the violence
he had recommended, and an attempt was speedily made to fire some of the
wheels which appeared to have received the smallest damage; but to
little purpose were they lighted, for most of them completely failed.
The authour of _The Rambler_, however, may be considered, on this
occasion, as the ringleader of a successful riot, though not as a
skilful pyrotechnist.'
'It has been supposed that Dr. Johnson, so far as fashion was concerned,
was careless of his appearance in publick. But this is not altogether
true, as the following slight instance may show:--Goldsmith's last
Comedy was to be represented during some court-mourning[1004]: and Mr.
Steevens appointed to call on Dr. Johnson, and carry him to the tavern
where he was to dine with others of the Poet's friends. The Doctor was
ready dressed, but in coloured cloaths; yet being told that he would
find every one else in black, received the intelligence with a profusion
of thanks, hastened to change his attire, all the while repeating his
gratitude for the information that had saved him from an appearance so
improper in the front row of a front box. "I would not (added he,) for
ten pounds, have seemed so retrograde to any general observance[1005]."
'He would sometimes found his dislikes on very slender circumstances.
Happening one day to mention Mr. Flexman, a Dissenting Minister, with
some compliment to his exact memory in chronological matters; the Doctor
replied, "Let me hear no more of him, Sir. That is the fellow who made
the Index to my _Ramblers_, and set down the name of Milton thus:
Milton, _Mr_. John[1006]."'