fashionable topick. It gave rise to an observation by Mr. Dempster, that
the advantages of fortune and rank were nothing to a wise man, who ought
to value only merit. JOHNSON. 'If man were a savage, living in the woods
by himself, this might be true; but in civilized society we all depend
upon each other, and our happiness is very much owing to the good
opinion of mankind. Now, Sir, in civilized society, external advantages
make us more respected. A man with a good coat upon his back meets with
a better reception than he who has a bad one[1302].
[Page 441: The 'advantages' of poverty. Ætat 54.]
Sir, you may analyse this, and say what is there in it? But that will
avail you nothing, for it is a part of a general system. Pound St.
Paul's Church into atoms, and consider any single atom; it is, to be
sure, good for nothing: but, put all these atoms together, and you have
St. Paul's Church. So it is with human felicity, which is made up of
many ingredients, each of which may be shewn to be very insignificant.
In civilized society, personal merit will not serve you so much as money
will. Sir, you may make the experiment. Go into the street, and give one
man a lecture on morality, and another a shilling, and see which will
respect you most. If you wish only to support nature, Sir William Petty
fixes your allowance at three pounds a year[1303] but as times are much
altered, let us call it six pounds. This sum will fill your belly,
shelter you from the weather, and even get you a strong lasting coat,
supposing it to be made of good bull's hide. Now, Sir, all beyond this
is artificial, and is desired in order to obtain a greater degree of
respect from our fellow-creatures. And, Sir, if six hundred pounds a
year procure a man more consequence, and, of course, more happiness than
six pounds a year, the same proportion will hold as to six thousand, and
so on as far as opulence can be carried. Perhaps he who has a large
fortune may not be so happy as he who has a small one; but that must
proceed from other causes than from his having the large fortune: for,
_caeteris paribus_, he who is rich in a civilized society, must be
happier than he who is poor; as riches, if properly used, (and it is a
man's own fault if they are not,) must be productive of the highest
advantages. Money, to be sure, of itself is of no use; for its only use
is to part with it. Rousseau, and all those who deal in paradoxes, are
led away by a childish desire of novelty[1304]. When I was a boy, I used
always to choose the wrong side of a debate, because most ingenious
things, that is to say, most new things, could be said upon it. Sir,
there is nothing for which you may not muster up more plausible
arguments, than those which are urged against wealth and other external
advantages. Why, now, there is stealing; why should it be thought a
crime? When we consider by what unjust methods property has been often
acquired, and that what was unjustly got it must be unjust to keep,
where is the harm in one man's taking the property of another from him?
Besides, Sir, when we consider the bad use that many people make of
their property, and how much better use the thief may make of it, it may
be defended as a very allowable practice. Yet, Sir, the experience of
mankind has discovered stealing to be so very bad a thing, that they
make no scruple to hang a man for it. When I was running about this town
a very poor fellow, I was a great arguer for the advantages of poverty;
but I was, at the same time, very sorry to be poor. Sir, all the
arguments which are brought to represent poverty as no evil, shew it to
be evidently a great evil. You never find people labouring to convince
you that you may live very happily upon a plentiful fortune.--So you
hear people talking how miserable a King must be; and yet they all wish
to be in his place[1305].'
[Page 442: Great Kings always social. A.D. 1763.]
It was suggested that Kings must be unhappy, because they are deprived
of the greatest of all satisfactions, easy and unreserved society.
JOHNSON. 'That is an ill-founded notion. Being a King does not exclude a
man from such society. Great Kings have always been social. The King of
Prussia, the only great King at present, is very social[1306]. Charles the
Second, the last King of England who was a man of parts, was social; and
our Henrys and Edwards were all social.'
Mr. Dempster having endeavoured to maintain that intrinsick merit
_ought_ to make the only distinction amongst mankind. JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, mankind have found that this cannot be. How shall we determine the
proportion of intrinsick merit? Were that to be the only distinction
amongst mankind, we should soon quarrel about the degrees of it. Were
all distinctions abolished, the strongest would not long acquiesce, but
would endeavour to obtain a superiority by their bodily strength. But,
Sir, as subordination is very necessary for society, and contensions for
superiority very dangerous, mankind, that is to say, all civilized
nations, have settled it upon a plain invariable principle. A man is
born to hereditary rank; or his being appointed to certain offices,
gives him a certain rank. Subordination tends greatly to human
happiness. Were we all upon an equality, we should have no other
enjoyment than mere animal pleasure[1307].'
[Page 443: Johnson's respect for rank. Ætat 54.]
I said, I considered distinction of rank to be of so much importance in
civilised society, that if I were asked on the same day to dine with the
first Duke in England, and with the first man in Britain for genius, I
should hesitate which to prefer. JOHNSON. 'To be sure, Sir, if you were
to dine only once, and it were never to be known where you dined, you
would choose rather to dine with the first man for genius; but to gain
most respect, you should dine with the first Duke in England. For nine
people in ten that you meet with, would have a higher opinion of you for
having dined with a Duke; and the great genius himself would receive you
better, because you had been with the great Duke.'
He took care to guard himself against any possible suspicion that his
settled principles of reverence for rank and respect for wealth were at
all owing to mean or interested motives; for he asserted his own
independence as a literary man. 'No man (said he) who ever lived by
literature, has lived more independently than I have done.' He said he
had taken longer time than he needed to have done in composing his
_Dictionary_. He received our compliments upon that great work with
complacency, and told us that the Academy _della Crusca_[1308] could
scarcely believe that it was done by one man.
[Page 444: Sceptical innovators. A.D. 1763.]
Next morning I found him alone, and have preserved the following
fragments of his conversation. Of a gentleman[1309] who was mentioned, he
said, 'I have not met with any man for a long time who has given me such
general displeasure. He is totally unfixed in his principles, and wants
to puzzle other people. I said his principles had been poisoned by a
noted infidel writer, but that he was, nevertheless, a benevolent good
man. JOHNSON. 'We can have no dependance upon that instinctive, that
constitutional goodness which is not founded upon principle. I grant you
that such a man may be a very amiable member of society. I can conceive
him placed in such a situation that he is not much tempted to deviate
from what is right; and as every man prefers virtue, when there is not
some strong incitement to transgress its precepts, I can conceive him
doing nothing wrong. But if such a man stood in need of money, I should
not like to trust him; and I should certainly not trust him with young
ladies, for _there_ there is always temptation. Hume, and other
sceptical innovators, are vain men, and will gratify themselves at any
expence. Truth will not afford sufficient food to their vanity; so they
have betaken themselves to errour. Truth, Sir, is a cow which will yield
such people no more milk, and so they are gone to milk the bull[1310]. If I
could have allowed myself to gratify my vanity at the expence of truth,
what fame might I have acquired. Every thing which Hume has advanced
against Christianity had passed through my mind long before he wrote.
Always remember this, that after a system is well settled upon positive
evidence, a few partial objections ought not to shake it. The human mind
is so limited, that it cannot take in all the parts of a subject, so
that there may be objections raised against any thing. There are
objections against a _plenum_, and objections against a _vacuum_; yet
one of them must certainly be true[1311].'
[Page 445: The proofs of Christianity. Ætat 54.]
I mentioned Hume's argument against the belief of miracles, that it is
more probable that the witnesses to the truth of them are mistaken, or
speak falsely, than that the miracles should be true[1312]. JOHNSON.
'Why, Sir, the great difficulty of proving miracles should make us very
cautious in believing them. But let us consider; although GOD has made
Nature to operate by certain fixed laws, yet it is not unreasonable to
think that he may suspend those laws, in order to establish a system
highly advantageous to mankind. Now the Christian religion is a most
beneficial system, as it gives us light and certainty where we were
before in darkness and doubt. The miracles which prove it are attested
by men who had no interest in deceiving us; but who, on the contrary,
were told that they should suffer persecution, and did actually lay down
their lives in confirmation of the truth of the facts which they
asserted. Indeed, for some centuries the heathens did not pretend to
deny the miracles; but said they were performed by the aid of evil
spirits. This is a circumstance of great weight. Then, Sir, when we take
the proofs derived from prophecies which have been so exactly fulfilled,
we have most satisfactory evidence. Supposing a miracle possible, as to
which, in my opinion, there can be no doubt, we have as strong evidence
for the miracles in support of Christianity, as the nature of the thing
admits.'
At night Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private room at the Turk's Head
coffee-house, in the Strand[1313]. 'I encourage this house (said he;) for
the mistress of it is a good civil woman, and has not much business.'
'Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people; because, in the first
place, I don't like to think myself growing old. In the next place,
young acquaintances must last longest, if they do last; and then, Sir,
young men have more virtue than old men; they have more generous
sentiments in every respect[1314]. I love the young dogs of this age: they
have more wit and humour and knowledge of life than we had; but then the
dogs are not so good scholars, Sir, in my early years I read very hard.
It is a sad reflection, but a true one, that I knew almost as much at
eighteen as I do now[1315]. My judgement, to be sure, was not so good; but
I had all the facts. I remember very well, when I was at Oxford, an old
gentleman said to me, "Young man, ply your book diligently now, and
acquire a stock of knowledge; for when years come upon you, you will
find that poring upon books will be but an irksome task."'
[Page 446: Remedies for melancholy. A.D. 1763.]
This account of his reading, given by himself in plain words,
sufficiently confirms what I have already advanced upon the disputed
question as to his application. It reconciles any seeming inconsistency
in his way of talking upon it at different times; and shews that
idleness and reading hard were with him relative terms, the import of
which, as used by him, must be gathered from a comparison with what
scholars of different degrees of ardour and assiduity have been known to
do. And let it be remembered, that he was now talking spontaneously, and
expressing his genuine sentiments; whereas at other times he might be
induced from his spirit of contradiction, or more properly from his love
of argumentative contest, to speak lightly of his own application to
study. It is pleasing to consider that the old gentleman's gloomy
prophecy as to the irksomeness of books to men of an advanced age, which
is too often fulfilled, was so far from being verified in Johnson, that
his ardour for literature never failed, and his last writings had more
ease and vivacity than any of his earlier productions.
He mentioned to me now, for the first time, that he had been distrest by
melancholy, and for that reason had been obliged to fly from study and
meditation, to the dissipating variety of life. Against melancholy he
recommended constant occupation of mind, a great deal of exercise,
moderation in eating and drinking, and especially to shun drinking at
night. He said melancholy people were apt to fly to intemperance for
relief, but that it sunk them much deeper in misery[1316]. He observed,
that labouring men who work hard, and live sparingly, are seldom or
never troubled with low spirits.
[Page 447: Mrs. Macaulay's footman. Ætat 54.]
[Page 448: Levelling up. A.D. 1763.]
He again insisted on the duty of maintaining subordination of rank.
'Sir, I would no more deprive a nobleman of his respect, than of his
money. I consider myself as acting a part in the great system of
society, and I do to others as I would have them to do to me. I would
behave to a nobleman as I should expect he would behave to me, were I a
nobleman and he Sam. Johnson. Sir, there is one Mrs. Macaulay[1317] in this
town, a great republican. One day when I was at her house, I put on a
very grave countenance, and said to her, "Madam, I am now become a
convert to your way of thinking. I am convinced that all mankind are
upon an equal footing; and to give you an unquestionable proof, Madam,
that I am in earnest, here is a very sensible, civil, well-behaved
fellow-citizen, your footman; I desire that he may be allowed to sit
down and dine with us[1318]." I thus, Sir, shewed her the absurdity of the
levelling doctrine. She has never liked me since. Sir, your levellers
wish to level _down_ as far as themselves; but they cannot bear
levelling _up_ to themselves. They would all have some people under
them; why not then have some people above them?' I mentioned a certain
authour who disgusted me by his forwardness, and by shewing no deference
to noblemen into whose company he was admitted. JOHNSON. 'Suppose a
shoemaker should claim an equality with him, as he does with a Lord; how
he would stare. "Why, Sir, do you stare? (says the shoemaker,) I do
great service to society. 'Tis true I am paid for doing it; but so are
you, Sir: and I am sorry to say it, paid better than I am, for doing
something not so necessary. For mankind could do better without your
books, than without my shoes." Thus, Sir, there would be a perpetual
struggle for precedence, were there no fixed invariable rules for the
distinction of rank, which creates no jealousy, as it is allowed to be
accidental.'
He said, Dr. Joseph Warton was a very agreeable man, and his _Essay on
the Genius and Writings of Pope_, a very pleasing book. I wondered that
he delayed so long to give us the continuation of it[1319]. JOHNSON. 'Why,
Sir, I suppose he finds himself a little disappointed, in not having
been able to persuade the world to be of his opinion as to Pope.'
We have now been favoured with the concluding volume, in which, to use a
parliamentary expression, he has _explained_, so as not to appear quite
so adverse to the opinion of the world, concerning Pope, as was at first
thought[1320]; and we must all agree that his work is a most valuable
accession to English literature.
[Page 449: Sir James Macdonald. Ætat 54.]
A writer of deserved eminence[1321] being mentioned, Johnson said, 'Why,
Sir, he is a man of good parts, but being originally poor, he has got a
love of mean company and low jocularity; a very bad thing, Sir. To laugh
is good, as to talk is good. But you ought no more to think it enough if
you laugh, than you are to think it enough if you talk. You may laugh in
as many ways as you talk; and surely _every_ way of talking that is
practised cannot be esteemed.'
[Page 450: Mark's WESTERN ISLES. A.D. 1763.]
I spoke of Sir James Macdonald[1322] as a young man of most distinguished
merit, who united the highest reputation at Eaton and Oxford, with the
patriarchal spirit of a great Highland Chieftain. I mentioned that Sir
James had said to me, that he had never seen Mr. Johnson, but he had a
great respect for him, though at the same time it was mixed with some
degree of terrour[1323]. JOHNSON. 'Sir, if he were to be acquainted with
me, it might lessen both.'
[Page 451: A schoolboy's happiness. Ætat 54.]
The mention of this gentleman led us to talk of the Western Islands of
Scotland, to visit which he expressed a wish that then appeared to me a
very romantick fancy, which I little thought would be afterwards
realised[1324]. He told me, that his father had put Martin's account of
those islands into his hands when he was very young, and that he was
highly pleased with it; that he was particularly struck with the St.
Kilda man's notion that the high church of Glasgow had been hollowed out
of a rock[1325]; a circumstance to which old Mr. Johnson had directed his
attention. He said he would go to the Hebrides with me, when I returned
from my travels, unless some very good companion should offer when I was
absent, which he did not think probable; adding, 'There are few people
to whom I take so much to as you.' And when I talked of my leaving
England, he said with a very affectionate air, 'My dear Boswell, I
should be very unhappy at parting, did I think we were not to meet
again[1326].' I cannot too often remind my readers, that although such
instances of his kindness are doubtless very flattering to me, yet I
hope my recording them will be ascribed to a better motive than to
vanity; for they afford unquestionable evidence of his tenderness and
complacency, which some, while they were forced to acknowledge his great
powers, have been so strenuous to deny.
He maintained that a boy at school was the happiest of human beings[1327].
I supported a different opinion, from which I have never yet varied,
that a man is happier; and I enlarged upon the anxiety and sufferings
which are endured at school. JOHNSON. 'Ah! Sir, a boy's being flogged is
not so severe as a man's having the hiss of the world against him. Men
have a solicitude about fame[1328]; and the greater share they have of it,
the more afraid they are of losing it.' I silently asked myself, 'Is it
possible that the great SAMUEL JOHNSON really entertains any such
apprehension, and is not confident that his exalted fame is established
upon a foundation never to be shaken?'
He this evening drank a bumper to Sir David Dalrymple[1329], 'as a man of
worth, a scholar, and a wit.' 'I have (said he) never heard of him
except from you; but let him know my opinion of him: for as he does not
shew himself much in the world, he should have the praise of the few who
hear of him.'
[Page 452: The Tale Of A Tub. A.D. 1763.]
On Tuesday, July 26, I found Mr. Johnson alone. It was a very wet day,
and I again complained of the disagreeable effects of such weather.
JOHNSON. 'Sir, this is all imagination, which physicians encourage; for
man lives in air, as a fish lives in water; so that if the atmosphere
press heavy from above, there is an equal resistance from below. To be
sure, bad weather is hard upon people who are obliged to be abroad; and
men cannot labour so well in the open air in bad weather, as in good:
but, Sir, a smith or a taylor, whose work is within doors, will surely
do as much in rainy weather, as in fair. Some very delicate frames,
indeed, may be affected by wet weather; but not common constitutions.'
[1330]
We talked of the education of children; and I asked him what he thought
was best to teach them first. JOHNSON. 'Sir, it is no matter what you
teach them first, any more than what leg you shall put into your
breeches first. Sir, you may stand disputing which is best to put in
first, but in the mean time your breech is bare. Sir, while you are
considering which of two things you should teach your child first,
another boy has learnt them both.'
On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private at the Turk's Head
coffee-house. JOHNSON. 'Swift has a higher reputation than he deserves.
His excellence is strong sense; for his humour, though very well, is not
remarkably good. I doubt whether _The Tale of a Tub_ be his; for he
never owned it, and it is much above his usual manner[1331].'
[Page 453: Mr. Thomas Sheridan's dulness. Ætat 54.]
'Thompson, I think, had as much of the poet about him as most writers.
Every thing appeared to him through the medium of his favourite pursuit.
He could not have viewed those two candles burning but with a poetical
eye[1332].'
'Has not ----[1333] a great deal of wit, Sir?' JOHNSON. 'I do not think
so, Sir. He is, indeed, continually attempting wit, but he fails. And I
have no more pleasure in hearing a man attempting wit and failing, than in
seeing a man trying to leap over a ditch and tumbling into it.'
He laughed heartily, when I mentioned to him a saying of his concerning
Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which Foote took a wicked pleasure to circulate.
'Why, Sir, Sherry is dull, naturally dull; but it must have taken him a
great deal of pains to become what we now see him. Such an excess of
stupidity, Sir, is not in Nature.' 'So (said he,) I allowed him all his
own merit.'
[Page 454: Experience the test of truth. A.D. 1763.]
He now added, 'Sheridan cannot bear me. I bring his declamation to a
point. I ask him a plain question, 'What do you mean to teach?' Besides,
Sir, what influence can Mr. Sheridan have upon the language of this
great country, by his narrow exertions? Sir, it is burning a farthing
candle at Dover, to shew light at Calais[1334].'
Talking of a young man[1335] who was uneasy from thinking that he was very
deficient in learning and knowledge, he said, 'A man has no reason to
complain who holds a middle place, and has many below him; and perhaps
he has not six of his years above him;--perhaps not one. Though he may
not know any thing perfectly, the general mass of knowledge that he has
acquired is considerable. Time will do for him all that is wanting.'
The conversation then took a philosophical turn. JOHNSON. 'Human
experience, which is constantly contradicting theory, is the great test
of truth. A system, built upon the discoveries of a great many minds, is
always of more strength, than what is produced by the mere workings of
any one mind, which, of itself, can do little. There is not so poor a
book in the world that would not be a prodigious effort were it wrought
out entirely by a single mind, without the aid of prior investigators.
The French writers are superficial[1336]; because they are not scholars,
and so proceed upon the mere power of their own minds; and we see how
very little power they have.'
[Page 455: The University of Salamancha. Ætat 54.]
'As to the Christian religion, Sir, besides the strong evidence which we
have for it, there is a balance in its favour from the number of great
men who have been convinced of its truth, after a serious consideration
of the question. Grotius was an acute man, a lawyer, a man accustomed to
examine evidence, and he was convinced. Grotius was not a recluse, but a
man of the world, who certainly had no bias to the side of religion. Sir
Isaac Newton set out an infidel[1337], and came to be a very firm
believer.'
He this evening again recommended to me to perambulate Spain[1338]. I said
it would amuse him to get a letter from me dated at Salamancha. JOHNSON.
'I love the University of Salamancha; for when the Spaniards were in
doubt as to the lawfulness of their conquering America, the University
of Salamancha gave it as their opinion that it was not lawful.' He spoke
this with great emotion, and with that generous warmth which dictated
the lines in his _London_, against Spanish encroachment[1339].
I expressed my opinion of my friend Derrick as but a poor writer.
JOHNSON. 'To be sure, Sir, he is; but you are to consider that his being
a literary man has got for him all that he has. It has made him King of
Bath[1340]. Sir, he has nothing to say for himself but that he is a
writer. Had he not been a writer, he must have been sweeping the
crossings in the streets, and asking halfpence from every body that past.'