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THE
LIFE
OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON3 LL. D.
COMPREHENDING
AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STUDIES,
AND
NUMEROUS WORKS, IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER;
A SERIES OF HIS
EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE
AND
CONVERSATIONS WITH MANY EMINENT PERSONS ;
AND VARIOUS ORIGINAL PIECES OF HIS COMPOSITION,
NEPSR BBPOKB PUBLISHED .-
THE WHOLE EXHIBITING A VIEW OF LITERATURE AND
LITERARY MEN IN GREAT-BRITAIN, FOR NEAR HALF A
CENTURY DURING WHICH HE FLOURISHED.
BY JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
Quo Jit Ut OMNIS
f^otiva pateat veluti descripta tabelLi
Vita senis Horat.
FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE FIFTH LONDON EDITION^
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
BOSTON :
PUBLISHED BY W. ANDREWS AND L. BLAKE.
GSfiBjrOVGH AND STEBBJNS, PRJlfTBRS,
1807.
THE
LIFE
OF
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D.
ON Monday, April 13, I dined with Johnson at
Mr. Langton's, where were Dr. Porteus, then Bishop of .^.-y^
Chester, now of London, and Dr. Stinton. He was at iEtat.
first in a very silent mood. Before dinner he said noth- ^^*
ing but " Pretty baby," to one of the children. Lang-
ton said very well to me afterwards, that he could repeat
Johnson's conversation before dinner, as Johnson had
said that he could repeat a complete chapter of " The
Natural History of Iceland," from the Danish of Hor-
rebozn;, the whole of which was exactly thus :
"Chap. LXXIL Concerning Snakes.
lere are
whole island."
' There are no snakes to be met with throughout the
At dinner we talked of another mode in the newspa'
pers of giving modern characters in sentences from the
classicks, and of the passage
" Parous deorum cultor, ct infrequens^
" Insanientis dum sapient ice
" Consultus erro^ nunc retrorsilm
" Vela dure^ at que iter are cursus
" Cogor relictos :
being well applied to Soame Jenyns ; who, after having
wandered in the wilds of infideUty, had returned to the
Christian faith. Mr. Langton asked Johnson as to the
propiiety oi sapientice consultus. Johnson. "Though
^i 7 665 3
4 THE LIFE OF
1778. comultus was primarily an adjective, like amicus it came
^^^ to be used as a substantive. So we have Juris consultus,
{)9. a consult in law."
We talked of the styles of different painters, and how
certainly a connoisseur could distinguish them. 1 ask-
ed, if there was as clear a difference of styles in lan-
guage as in painting, or even as in hand-writing, so that
the composition of every individual may be distinguish-
ed? Johnson. "Yes. Those who have a style of em-
inent excellence, such as Dryden and Milton, can al-
ways be distinguished." 1 had no doubt of this ; but
what 1 wanted to know was, whether there was really
a peculiar style to every man whatever, there is certainly
a pecuhar hand-writing, a peculiar countenance, not
widely different in many, yet always enough to be dis-
tinctive :
" ■ — '-fades non omnibus una,
" Nee diver sa tamen"
The Bishop thought not; and said, he supposed that
many pieces in Dodsley's collection of poems, though
all very pretty, had nothing appropriated in their style,
and in that particular could not be at all distinguished.
Johnson. " Why, Sir, I think every man whatever has
a peculiar style, which may be discovered by nice ex-
amination and comparison with others : but a man must
write a great deal to make his style obviously discerni-
ble. As logicians say, this appropriation of style is in-
finite in potestate, limited iti actu."
Mr. Topham Beauclerk came in the evening, and he
and Dr. Johnson and I staid to supp>er. It was men-
tioned that Dr. Dodd had once wished to be a member
of the Literary Club. Johnson. " 1 should be sorry
if any of our Club were hanged. I will not say but
some of them deserve it." =^ Beauclerk; (supposing
this to be aimed at persons for whom he had at that
time a wonderful fancy, which, however, did not last
long,) was irritated, and eagerly said, " You, Sir, have
a friend (naming him) who deserves to be hanged ; for
2 See VoL ii. p. 3C2
DR. JOHNSON- 5
he speaks behind their backs against those with whom i778.
he hves on the best terms, and attacks them in the news- ^^
papers. He certainly ought to be kicked." Johnson. 69.
" Sir, we all do this in some degree : ' Veniam petimus
damusque victssim' To be sure it may be done so much,
that a man may deserve to be kicked." Beauclerk.
" He is very malignant." Johnson. " No, Sir ; he is
not malignant. He is mischievous, if you will. He
would do no man an essential injury ; he may, indeed,
love to make sport of people by vexing their vanity. I,
however, once knew an old gentleman who was abso-
lutely malignant. He really wished evil to others, and
rejoiced at it." Boswell. " The gentleman, Mr. Beau-
clerk, against whom you are so violent, is, I know, a
man of good principles." Beauclerk. " Then he does
not wear them out in practice."
Dr. Johnson, who, as 1 have observed before, delight-
ed in discrimination of character, and having a masterly
knowledge of human nature, was willing to take men
as they are, imperfect and with a mixture of good and
bad qualities, I suppose thought he had said enough in
defence of his friend, of whose merits, notwithstanding
his exceptionable points, he had a just value ; and add-
ed no more on the subject.
On Tuesday, April 14, I dined with him at General
Oglethorpe's, with General Paoli and Mr. Langton.
General Oglethorpe declaimed against luxury. John-
son. " Depend upon it, Sir, every state of society is as
luxurious as it can be. Men always take the best they
can get." Oglethorpe. " But the best depends much
upon ourselves ; and if we can be as well satisfied with
plain things, we are in the wrong to accustom our pal-
ates to what is high-seasoned and expensive. What
says Addison in his ' Cato,^ speaking of the Numidian ?
* Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chace,
' Amid the running stream he slakes his thirst,
' Toils all the day, and at the approach of night,
' On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
' Or rests his head upon a rock till morn ;
' And if the following day he chance to find
276653 '
THE LIFE OF
1778. ' A new repast, or an untasted spring,
^J^ ' Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
69.
Let us have f/iat kind of luxury. Sir, if you will."
Johnson. " But hold. Sir : to be merely satisfied, is
not enough. It is in refinement and elegance that the
civilized man differs from the savage. A great part of
our industry, and all our ingenuity is exercised in pro-
curing pleasure ; and. Sir, i\ hungry man has not the
same pleasure in eating a plain dinner, that a hungry
man has in eating a luxurious dinner. You see I put
the case fairly. A hungry man may have as much, nay,
more pleasure in eating a plain dinner, than a man
grown fastidious has in eating a luxurious dinner. But
I suppose the man who decides between the two din-
ners, to be equally a hungry man."
Talking of different governments, — Johnson. " The
more contracted power is, the more easily it is destroyed.
A country governed by a despot is an inverted cone.
Government there cannot be so firm, as when it rests
upon a broad basis gradually contracted, as the govern-
ment of Great Britain, which is founded on the parlia-
ment, then is in the privy-council, then in the King."
BoswELL. " Power, when contracted into the person
of a despot, may be easily destroyed, as the prince may
be cut off So Caligula wished that the people of Rome
had but one neck, that he might cut them off at a blow."
Oglethorpe. " It was of the Senate he wished that.
The Senate by its usurpation controuled both the Em-
perour and the people. And don't you think that we
see too much of that in our own parhament ?"
Dr. Johnson endeavoured to trace the etymology of
Maccaronick verses,which he thought were of Italian in-
vention from Maccaroni ; but on being informed that
this would infer that they were the most common and
easy verses, maccaroni being the most ordinary and sim-
ple food, he was at a loss ; for he said, " He rather
should have supposed it to import in its primitive signi-
fication, a composition of several things ;^ for Macca-
2 [Dr. Johnson was right in supposing that this kind of poetry derived its name
from maccbenme. " Ars ista poetica (says Martin Coecaie, whose true name \yas
DR. JOHNSON. 'J
ronick verses are verses made out of a mixture of differ- 1773.
cut languages, that is, of one language with the termin- '^^
ation of another." I suppose we scarcely know of a 69.
language in any country where there is any learning, in
which that motley ludicrous species of composition may
not be found. It is particularly droll in Low Dutch.
The " Polemo-middinia" of Drummond of Hawthorn-
den, in which there is a jumble of many languages
moulded, as if it were all in Latin, is well known. Mr.
Langton made us laugh heartily at one in the Grecian
mould, by Joshua Barnes, in which are to be found
such comical Anglo-heUenisms as KKvQQamv iQai-^-.v : they
were banged with clubs.
On Wednesday, April lo, I dined with Dr. Johnson
at Mr. Dilly^s, and was in high spirits, for I had been a
good part of the morning with Mr. Orme, the able and
eloquent historian of Hindostan, who expressed a great
admiration of Johnson. " I do not care (said he,) on
what subject Johnson talks ; but 1 love better to hear
him talk than any body. He either gives you new
thoughts, or a new colouring. It is a shame to the
nation that he has not been more liberally rewarded.
Had I been George the Third, and thought as he did
about America, I would have given Johnson three
hundred a year for his ' Taxation no Tyranny,' alone."
I repeated this, and Johnson was much pleased with
such praise from such a man as Orme.
At Mr. Dilly's to-day were Mrs. Knowles, the inge-
nious Quaker lady,* Miss Seward, the poetess of Lich-
field, the Rev. Dr. Mayo, and the Rev. Mr. Beresford,
Tutor to the Duke of Bedford. Before dinner Dr. John-
son seized upon Mr. Charles Sheridan's* " Account of
the late Revolution in Sweden," and seemed to read it
ravenously, as if he devoured it, which was to all ap-
Theophilo Folangio,) nuncupatur ars macaronica, a macaronihas derivata ; qui
macarones sunt quoddam pulmentum, farina, caseo, butyro compaginatum, grossum,
j.ude, et rusticanum. Ideo macaronica nil nisi grossedinem, ruditatem, et voca-
gULAZzos debet in se continere." Warton's Hist, of Eng. Poet. ii. S57. M.]
= Dr. Johnson, describing her needle-work in one of his letters to Mrs. Thrale,
Vol. I. p. 326, uses the learned word sutiU ; which Mrs. Thrale has mistaken, and
made the phrase injurious by writing "futile pictures."
[* The elder brother of R. B. Sheridan Esq. He died in 1806. M.}
8 THE LIFE OF
1778. pearance his method of studying. " He knows how to
^^ read better than any one (said Mrs. Knowles ;) he gets
69. at the substance of a book directly ; he tears out the
heart of it." He kept it wrapt up in the tablecloth in
his lap during the time of dinner, from an avidity to
have one entertainment in readiness, when he should
have finished another ; resembling (if 1 may use so
coarse a simile) a dog who holds a bone in his paws in
reserve, while he eats something else which has been
thrown to him.
The subject of cookery having been very naturally
introduced at a table where Johnson, who boasted of
the niceness of his palate, owned that " he always found
a good dinner," he said, " I could write a better book
of cookery than has ever yet been written ; it should
be a book upon philosophical principles. Pharmacy is
now made much more simple. Cookery may be made
so too. A prescription which is now compounded of
five ingredients, had formerly fifty in it. So in cooke-
ry, if the nature of the ingredients be well known, much
fewer w^ill do. Then, as you cannot make bad meat
good, I would tell what is the best butcher's meat, the
best beef, the best pieces ; how to choose young fowls ;
the proper seasons of different vegetables ; and then how
to roast and boil, and compound." Dilly. " Mrs.
Glasse's ' Cookery,' which is the best, was written by
Dr. Hill. Half the trade^ know this." Johnson.
" VV^ell, Sir. This shews how much better the subject
of Cookery may be treated by a philosopher. 1 doubt
if the book be written by Dr. Hill ; for, in Mrs. Glasse's
' Cookery,' which I have looked into, salt-petre and
sal-prunella are spoken of as different substances,
whereas sal-prunella is only salt-petre burnt on char-
coal ; and Hill could not be ignorant of this. How-
ever, as the greatest part of such a book is made by
transcription, this mistake may have been carelessly
adopted. But you shall see what a Book of Cookery
I shall make \ I shall agree with Mr. Dilly for the
* As Physicians are called the Faculty, and Counsellors at Law the Profession, the
Booksellers of London are denominated the Trade. Johnson disapproved of thesi'
denominations.
DR. JOHNSON. 9
copy-right.^^ Miss Seward. " That would be Her- 1778.
cules with the distaff indeed." Johnson. " No, Mad- ^J^^
ara. Women can spin very well ; but they cannot 69.
make a good book of Cookery."
Johnson. " O ! Mr. Dilly — you must know that an
English Benedictine Monk at Paris has translated ' The
Duke of Berwick's Memoirs,' from the original French,
and has sent them to me to sell. I offered them to
Strahan, who sent them back with this answer : — ' That
the first book he had published was the Duke of Ber-
wick's Life, by which he had lost : and he hated the
name.' — Now I honestly tell you, that Strahan has re-
fused them ; but I also honestly tell you, that he did
it upon no principle, for he never looked into them."
Dilly. " Are they well translated, Sir I" Johnson.
" Why, Sir, very well — in a style very current and very
clear. I have written to the Benedictine to give me an
answer upon two points ; — What evidence is there that
the letters are authentick? (for if they are not authentick,
they are nothing ;) — ^And how long will it be before the
original French is published ? For if the French edition
is not to appear for a considerable time, the translation
will be almost as valuable as an original book. They
will make two volumes in octavo ; and I have under-
taken to correct every sheet as it comes from the press."
Mr. Dilly desired to see them, and said he would send
for them. He asked Dr. Johnson, if he would write a
Preface to them. Johnson. " No Sir. The Benedic-
tines were very kind to me, and I'll do what I under-
took to do ; but I will not mingle my name with them.
I am to gain nothing by them. I'll turn them loose
upon the world, and let them take their chance." Dr.
Mayo. " Pray, Sir,areGanganelli's letters authentick I"
Johnson. " No Sir. Voltaire put the same question
to the editor of them, that I did to Macpherson —
Where are the originals I"
Mrs. Knowles affected to complain that men had
much more liberty allowed them than women. John- /
son. " Why, Madam, women have all the liberty they /
should wish to have. We have all the labour and the /
VOL. III. 2
10 THE LIFE OF
'778. danger, and the women all the advantage. We go to sea,
2^ we build houses, we do every thing, in short, to pay our
fig, court to the women." Mrs. Knowles. " The Doctor
reasons very wittily, but not convincingly. Now, take
the instance of building ; the mason's wife, if she is
ever seen in liquor, is ruined ; the mason may get him-
self drunk as often as he pleases, with little loss of char-
acter ; nay, may let his wife and children starve."
Johnson. " Madam, you must consider, if the mason
does get himself drunk, and let his wife and children
starve, the parish will oblige him to find security for
their maintenance. We have different modes of re-
straining evil. Stocks for the men, a duckingstool for
women, and a pound for beasts. If we require more
perfection from women than from ourselves, it is doing
them honour. And women have not the same tempta-
tions that we have ; they may always live in virtuous
company ; men must mix in the world indiscriminately.
If a woman has no inclination to do what is wrong, be-
ing secured from it is no restraint to her. I am at liber-
ty to walk into the Thames ; but if I were to try it, my
friends would restrain me in Bedlam, and I should be
obliged to them." Mrs. Knowles. " Still, Doctor, I
cannot help thinking it a hardship that more indulgence
is allowed to men than to women. It gives a superiority
to men, to which I do not see how they are entitled."
Johnson. " It is plain. Madam, one or other must
have the superiority. As Shakspeare says, ' If two
men ride on a horse, one must ride behind." Dilly.
" I suppose, Sir, Mrs. Knowles would have them ride
in panniers, one on each side." Johnson. " Then, Sir,
the horse would throw them both." Mrs. Knowles.
" Well, I hope that in another world the sexes will be
equal." Boswell. " That is being too ambitious, Mad-
am. IVe might as well desire to be equal with the an-
gels. We shall all, I hope, be happy in a future state,
but we must not expect to be all happy in the same de-
gree. It is enough, if we be happy according to our
several capacities. A worthy carman will get to heav-
en as well a^ Sir Isaac Newton. Yet, though equally
DR. JOHNSON. 11
good, they will not have the same degrees of happiness." '778.
Johnson. " Probably not.""^ ^^
Upon this subject 1 had once before sounded him, by ^y.
mentioning the late Reverend Mr. Brown, of Utrecht's
image ; that a great and small glass, though equally full,
did not hold an equal quantity ; which he threw out to
refute David Hume's saying, that a little miss, going
to dance at a ball, in a fine new dress, was as happy as
a great orator, after having made an eloquent and
applauded speech. After some thought, Johnson said,'
" I come over to the parson." As an instance of coin-
cidence of thinking, Mr. Dilly told me, that Dr. King,
a late dissenting minister in London, said to him, upon
the happiness in a future state of good men of different
capacities, " A pail does not hold so much as a tub ;
but, if it be equally full, it has no reason to complain.
Every Saint in heaven will have as much happiness as
he can hold." Mr. Dilly thought this a clear, though a
familiar illustration of the phrase, " One star differeth
from another in brightness."
Dr. Mayo having asked Johnson's opinion of Soame
Jenyns's " View of the Internal Evidence of the Chris-
tian Religion ;" — Johnson. " I think it a pretty book ;
not very theological indeed ; and there seems to be an
affectation of ease and carelessness, as if it were not
suitable to his character to be very serious about the
matter." Boswell. " He may have intended this to
introduce his book the better among genteel people,
who might be unwilling to read too grave a treatise.
There is a general levity in the age. We have physi-
cians now with bag-wigs ; may we not have airy divines,
at least somewhat less solemn in their appearance than
they used to be ?" Johnson. " Jenyns might mean as
you say." Boswell. " You should like his book, Mrs.
Knowles, as it maintains, as you friends do, that cour-
age is not a Christian virtue." Mrs. Knowles. " Yes,
indeed, I like him there ; but I cannot agree with him,
that friendship is not a Christian virtue." Johnson.
' [See on this question Bisliop Hall's Epistles, Dec. iii. Epist. 6, " Of the different
degrees of heavenly glory, and of our mutual knowledge of each other above." M.]
' rSee vol. i. p. 394, where also this subject is discussed. M.]
12 THE LIFE OF
1778. "Why, Madam, strictly speaking, he is right. AH
£^ friendship is preferring the interest of a friend, to the
6g. neglect^ or, perhaps, against the interest of others ; so
that an old Greek said, ' He that has Jriends has no
friend? Now Christianity recommends universal be-
nevolence,— to consider all men as our brethren ; which
is contrary to the virtue of friendship, as described by
the ancient philosophers. Surely, Madam, your sect
must approve of this ; for, you call all men friends."
Mrs. Knowles. " We are commanded to do good to
all men, ' but especially to them who are of the house-
hold of Faith/' Johnson. " Well, Madam. The
household of Faith is wide enough." Mrs. Knowles.
" But, Doctor, our Saviour had twelve Apostles, yet
there was one whom he loved. John was called ' the
disciple whom Jesus loved." Johnson, (with eyes
sparkling benignantly) " Very well, indeed. Madam.
You have said very well." Boswell. " A fine appli-
cation. Pray, Sir, had you ever thought of it? John-
son. " I had not, Sir."
From this pleasing subject, he, I know not how or
why, made a sudden transition to one upon which he
was a violent aggressor ; for he said, " I am willing to
love all mankind, except an American ;" and his inflam-
mable corruption bursting into horrid fire, he " breathed
out threatenings and slaughter ;" calling them, " Ras-
cals— Robbers — Pirates ;" and exclaiming, he'd " burn
and destroy them." Miss Seward, looking to him with
mild but steady astonishment, said,'> " Sir, this is an in-
stance that we are always most violent against those
whom we have injured." — He was irritated still more
by this delicate and keen reproach ; and roared out
another tremendous volley, which one might fancy could
be heard across the Atlantick. During this tempest I
sat in great uneasiness, lamenting his heat of temper ;
till, by degrees, I diverted his attention to other topicks.
Dr. Mayo, (to Dr. Johnson) " Pray, Sir, have you
read Edwards, of New England, on Grace?" Johnson.
" No, Sir." Boswell. " It puzzled me so much as to
the freedom of the human will, by stating, with won-
derful acute ingenuity, our being actuated by a series of
DR. JOHNSON. 13
motives which we cannot resist, that the onl}' rehef I '778.
had was to forget it." Mayo. " But he makes the ^^
proper distinction between moral and physical neces- 69.
sity." BoswELL. " Alas, Sir, they come both to the
same thing. You may be bound as hard by chains
when covered by leather, as when the iron appears.
The argument for the moral necessity of human actions
is always, I observe, fortified by supposing universal
prescience to be one of the attributes of the Deity."
Johnson. " You are surer that you are free, than you
are of prescience ; you are surer that you can lift up
your finger or not as you please, than you are of any
conclusion from a deduction of reasoning. But let us
consider a little the objection from prescience. It is
certain I am either to go home to-night or not ; that
does not prevent my freedom." Boswell. " That it
is certain you are either to go home or not, does not
prevent your freedom : because the liberty of choice
between the two is compatible with that certainty. But
if one of these events be certain «oa', you have wo future
power of volition. If it be certain you are to go home
to-night, you must go home." Johnson. " If I am well
acquainted with a man, I can judge with great probabil-
ity how he will act in any case, without his being re-
strained by my judging. God may have this probability
increased to certainty." Boswell. " When it is in-
creased to certainttf^ freedom ceases, because that can-
not be certainly foreknown, which is not certain at the
time ; but if it be certain at the time, it is a contradic-
tion in terms to maintain that there can be afterwards
any contingencij dependent upon the exercise of will or
any thing else." Johnson. " All theory is against the
freedom of the will ; all experience for it." — 1 did not
push the subject any farther. I was glad to find him so
mild in discussing a question of the most abstract na-
ture, involved with theological tenets, which he gener-
ally would not suffer to be in any degree opposed. *
■° If any of my readers are disturbed by this thorny question, I beg leave to rec-
ommend to them Letter 69 of Montesquieu's Ldtres Persannes ; and the kite Mr.
John Pahner of Islington's Answer to Dr. Priestley's mechanical arguments for
what he absurdly calls " Philosophjcal necessity."
14 THE LIFE OF
1778. He, as usual, defended luxury : "You cannot spend
^at^ money in luxury without doing good to the poor. Nay,
69. you do more good to them by spending it in luxury,
you make them exert industry, whereas by giving it,
you keep them idle. I own, indeed, there may be more
virtue in giving it immediately in charity, than in spend-
ing it in luxury ; though there may be pride in that
too." Miss Seward asked, if this was not Mandeville's
doctrine of " private vices publick benefits." Johnson.
" The fallacy of that book is, that Mandeville defines
neither vices nor benefits. He reckons among vices ev-
ery thing that gives pleasure. He takes the narrowest
system of morality, monastick morality, which holds
pleasure itself to be a vice, such as eating salt with our
fish, because it makes it eat better ; and he reckons
wealth as a publick benefit, which is by no means al-
ways true. Pleasure Of itself is not a vice. Having a
garden, which we all know to be perfectly innocent, is
a great pleasure. At the same time, in this state of
being there are many pleasures vices, which however
are so immediately agreeable that we can hardly abstain
from them. The happiness of Heaven will be, that
pleasure and virtue will be perfectly consistent. Man-
deville puts the case of a man who gets drunk at an
alehouse ; and says it is a publick benefit, because so
much money is got by it to the publick. But it must
be considered, that all the good gained by this, through
the gradation of alehouse-keeper, brewer, maltster, and
farmer, is overbalanced by the evil caused to the man
and his family by his getting drunk. This is the way
to try what is vicious, by ascertaining whether more
evil than good is produced by it upon the whole, which
is the case in all vice. It may happen that good is pro-
duced by vice, but not as vice ; for instance, a robber
may take money from its owner, and give it to one who
will make a better use of it. Here is good produced ;
but not by the robbery as robbery, but as translation of
property. 1 read Mandeville forty, or, I believe, fifty
years ago. He did not puzzle me ; he opened my views
into real life very much. No, it is clear that the hap-
piness of society depends on virtue. In Spaha, theft
DR. JOHNSON. 15
was allowed by general consent : theft, therefore, was 1778.
there not a crime, but then there was no security ; and ]JJ^,
what a life must they have had, when there was no se- 69. *
curity. Without truth there must be a dissolution of
society. As it is, there is so little truth, that we are
almost afraid to trust our ears ; but how should we be,
if falsehood were multiplied ten times ! Society is held
together by communication and information ; and 1 re-
member this remark of Sir Thomas Brown's, ' Do the
devils lie ? No ; for then Hell could not subsist."
Talking of Miss , a literary lady, he said, " I
was obliged to speak to Miss Reynolds, to let her know
that I desired she would not flatter me so much." Some-
body now observed, " She flatters Garrick." Johnson.
" She is in the right to flatter Garrick. She is in the
right for two reasons ; first, because she has the world
with her, who have been praising Garrick these thirty
years ; and secondly, because she is rewarded for it by
Garrick. Why should she flatter me / I can do noth-
ing for her. Let her carry her praise to a better market.
(Then turning to Mrs. Knowles.) You, Madam, have
been flattering me all the evening ; I wish you would
give Boswell a little now. If you knew his merit as
well as I do, you would say a great deal ; he is the best
travelling companion in the world."
Somebody mentioned the Reverend Mr. Mason's
prosecution of Mr. Murray, the bookseller, for having
inserted in a collection of " Gray's Poems," only fifty
lines, of which Mr. Mason had still the exclusive prop-
erty, under the statute of Queen Anne ; and that Mr.
Mason had persevered, notwithstanding his being re-
quested to name his own terms of compensation. ^ John-
son signified his displeasure at Mr. Mason's conduct
very strongly ; but added, by way of shewing that he
was not surprized at it, " Mason's a Whig." Mrs.
Knowles, (not hearing distinctly :) " What ! a Prig,
Sir \" Johnson. " Worse, Madam ; a Whig ! But he is
both !"
' See « A Letter to W. Mason, A. M. from J, Murray, Bookseller in London :"
2d edition, p. 20,
16 THE LIFE OF
1778. I expressed a horrour at the thought of death. Mrs.
2J^ Knowles. " Nay, thou should'st not have a horrour
6p, ' for what is the gate of hfe." Johnson, (standing upon
the hearth rolling about, with a serious, solemn, and
somewhat gloomy air :) " No rational man can die
without uneasy apprehensions." Mrs. Knowles.
" The Scriptures tell us, ' The righteous shall have hope
in his death." Johnson. " Yes, Madam ; that is, he
shall not have despair. But, consider, his hope of sal-
vation must be founded on the terms on which it is
promised that the Mediation of our Saviour shall be
applied to us, — namely, obedience ; and where obedi-
ence has failed, then, as suppletory to it, repentance.
But what man can say that his obedience has been such,
as he would approve of in another, or even in himself
upon close examination, or that his repentance has not
been such as to require being repented of ? No man can
be sure that his obedience and repentance will obtain
salvation." Mrs. Knowles. " But divine intimation
of acceptance may be made to the soul." Johnson.
" Madam, it may ; but I should not think the better of
a man who should tell me on his death-bed, he was
sure of salvation. A man cannot be sure himself that
he has divine intimation of acceptance ; much less can
he make others sure that he has it," Boswell. " Then,
Sir, we must be contented to acknowledge that deatli*is
a terrible thing." Johnson. " Yes, Sir. 1 have made
no approaches to a state which can look on it as not
terrible." Mrs. Knowles, (seeming to enjoy a pleas-
ing serenity in the persuasion of benignant divine light :)
" Does not St. Paul say, ' 1 have fought the good iight
of faith, I have finished my course ; henceforth is laid
up for me a crown of life !" Johnson. " Yes, Madam ;
but here was a man inspired, a man who had been con-
verted by supernatural interposition." Boswell. "In
prospect death is dreadful ; but in fact we find that
people die easy." Johnson. " Why, Sir, most people
have not thought much of the matter, so cannot say
much, and it is supposed they die easy. ¥ew believe
it certain they are then to die ; and those who do, set
themselves to behave with resolution, as a man does
DR. JOHNSON. 17
who is going to be hanged : — he is not the less unwil- ^778»
ling to be hanged." Miss Seward " There is one £^.
mode of the fear of death, which is certainly absurd : 69.
and that is the dread of annihilation, which is only a
pleasing sleep without a dream." Johnson. " It is
neither pleasing, nor sleep ; it is nothing. Now mere
existence is so much better than nothing, that one
would rather exist even in pain, than not exist." Bos-
well. " If annihilation be nothing, then existence in
pain is not a comparative state, but is a positive evil,
which I cannot think we should choose. I must be al-
lowed to differ here ; and it would lessen the hope of
a future state founded on the argument, that the Su-
preme Being, who is good as he is great, will hereafter
compensate for our present sufferings in this life. For
if existence, such as we have it here, be comparatively
a good, we have no reason to complain, though no more
of it should be given to us. But if our only state of ex-
istence were in this world, then we might with some
reason complain that we are so dissatisfied with our en-
joyments compared with our desires." Johnson. "The
lady confounds annihilation, which is nothing, with the
apprehension of it, which is dreadful. It is in the ap-
prehension of it that the horrourof annihilation consists."
Of John Wesley, he said, " He can talk well on any
subject." Bos WELL. " Pray, Sir, what has he made of
his story of a ghost ?" Johnson. " Why, Sir, he believes
it ; but not on sufficient authority. He did not take
time enough to examine the girl. It was at Newcastle,
where the ghost was said to have appeared to a young
woman several times, mentioning something about the
right to an old house, advising application to be made
to an attorney, which was done ; and, at the same time,
saying the attorney would do nothing, which proved to
be the fact. ' This (says John) is a proof that a ghost
knows our thoughts.* Now (laughing) it is not neces-
sary to know our thoughts, to tell that an attorney will
sometimes do nothing. Charles Wesley, who is a
more stationary man, does not believe the story. I am
sorry that John did not take more pains to enquire into
the evidence for it." Miss Seward, (with an incred-
VOL. III. 3
18 THE LIFE OF
1778. uloiis smile :) " What, Sir ! about a ghost ?" John-
^J^ son, (with solemn vehemence :) " Yes, Madam : this
fig. * is a question which, after five thousand years, is yet un-
decided: a question, whether in theology or philosophy,
one of the most important that can come before the hu-
man understanding/'
Mrs. Knowles mentioned, as a proselyte to Quakerism,
Miss , a young lady well known to Dr. Johnson,
for whom he had shewn much affection ; while she ev-
er had, and still retained, a great respect for him. Mrs.
Knowles at the same time took an opportunity of let-
ting him know " that the amiable young creature was
sorry at finding that he was offended at her leaving
the Church of England and embracing a simpler faith ;"
and, in the gentlest and most persuasive manner, solic-
ited his kind indulgence for what was sincerely a mat-
ter of conscience. Johnson, (frowning very angrily,)
" Madam, she is an odious wench. She could not
have any proper conviction that it was her duty to
change her religion, which is the most important of all
subjects, and should be studied with all care, and with
all the helps we can get. She knew no more of the
Church which she left, and that which she embraced,
than she did of the difference between the Copernican
and Ptolemaick systems." Mrs. Knowles. " She had
the New Testament before her." Johnson. "Madam,
she could not understand the New Testament, the most
difficult book in the world, for which the study of a life
is required." Mrs. Knowles. " It is clear as to essen-
tials." Johnson. " But not as to controversial points.
The heathens were easily converted, because they
had nothing to give up ; but we ought not, without
very strong conviction indeed, to desert the religion in
which we have been educated. That is the religion
given you, the religion in which it may be said Provi-
dence has placed you. If you live conscientiously in
that religion, you may be safe. But errour is danger-
ous indeed, if you err when you choose a rehgion for
yourself." Mrs. Knowles. " Must we then go by im-
plicit faith ?" Johnson. " Why, Madam, the greatest
part of our knowledge is implicit faith ; and as to reli-
DR. JOHNSON. 19
gion, have we heard all that a disciple of Confucius, '778.
all that a Mahometan, can say for himself ?" He then ^^
rose again into passion, and attacked the young prose- 6g.
lyte in the severest terms of reproach, so that both the
ladies seemed to be much shocked.'
We remained together till it was pretty late. Notwith-
standing occasional explosions of violence, we were all
dehghted upon the whole with Johnson. I compared
him at this time to a warm West-Indian climate, where
you have a bright sun, quick vegetation, luxuriant fo-
liage, luscious fruits ; but where the same heat some-
times produces thunder, lightning, earthquakes, in a
terrible degree.
April 17, being Good-Friday, I waited on Johnson,
as usual. I observed at breakfast that although it was
a part of his abstemious discipline on this most solemn
fast, to take no milk in his tea, yet when Mrs. Des-
moulins inadvertently poured it in, he did not reject it.
I talked of the strange indecision of mind, and imbecility
in the common occurrences of life, which we may ob-
serve in some people. Johnson. " Why, Sir, I am in
the habit of getting others to do things for me." Bos-
well. "What, Sir! have you that weakness ?" John-
son. " Yes, Sir. But 1 always think afterwards I should
have done better for myself."
I told him that at a gentleman's house where there
was thought to be such extravagance or bad manage-
ment, that he was living much beyond his income,
his lady had objected to the cutting of a pickled •man-
go, and that I had taken an opportunity to ask the
' Mrs. Knowles, not satisfied with the fame of her needle-work, the " sutile
futures" mentioned by Johnson, in which she has indeed displayed much dexterity,
nay, with the fame of reasoning better than women generally do, as I have fairly
shewn her to have done, communicated to me a Dialogue of considerable length,
which after many years had elapsed, she wrote down as having passed between
Dr. Johnson and her at this interview. As I had not the least recollection of it,
and did not find the smallest trace of it in my Record taken at the time, I could
not in consistency with my firm regard to authenticity, insert it in my work. It
iias however, been published in " The Gentleman's Magazine" for June 1791. It
chiefly relates to the principles of the sect called Quakers ; and no doubt the lady
appears to have greatly the advantage of Dr. Johnson in argument as well as ex-
pression. From what I have now stated, and from the internal evidence of the
paper itfelf, any one who may have the curiosity to peruse it, will judge whether
't was wrong in me to reject it, however willing to gratify Mrs. Knowles.
20 THE LIFE OF
1778. price of it, and found it was only two shillings ; so
^^ here was a very poor saving. Johnson. " Sir, that
69. is the blundering oeconomyof a narrow understanding.
It is stopping one hole in a sieve."
I expressed some inclination to publish an account
of my Travels upon the continent of Europe, for which
I had a variety of materials collected. Johnson. " I
do not say, Sir, you may not publish your travels ; but
I give you my opinion, that you would lessen yourself
by it. What can you tell of countries so well known as
those upon the continent of Ruropc, which you have
visited V' Bos well. " But 1 can give an entertaining
narrative, with many incidents, anecdotes, y^e^^r d'esprh,
and remarks, so as to make very pleasant reading.''
Johnson. " Why, Sir, most modern travellers in Europe
who have published their travels, have been laughed at :
I would not have you added to the number.* The
world is now not contented to be merely entertained by
a traveller's narrative ; they want to learn something.
Now some of my friends asked me, why 1 did not give
some account of my travels in France. The reason is
plain ; inteUigent readers had seen more of France than
I had. You might have liked my travels in France, and
The Club might have liked them ; but, upon the
"whole, there would have been more ridicule than good
produced by them." Boswell. *' I cannot agree with
you. Sir. People would like to read what you say of
any thing. Suppose a face has been painted by fifty
paintfers before ; still we love to see it done by Sir Josh-
ua." Johnson. " True, Sir, but Sir Joshua cannot
paint a face when he has not time to look on it." Bos-
well. " Sir, a sketch of any sort by him is valuable.
And, Sir, to talk to you in your own style (raising my
voice, and shaking my head,) you should have given us
your Travels in France. 1 am sure I am right, and
there'' s an end onU."
1 said to him that it was certainly true, as my friend
Dempster had observed in his letter to me upon the
- I believe, however, I shall follow my own opinion ; for the world has shewo
a Very flattering partiality to my writings, on many occasions.
DR. JOHNSON. 21
subject, that a great part of what was in his " Journey 1778.
to the Western Islands of Scotland,'' had be^n in his ]J^^
mind before he left London. Johnson. " W hy yes, 69.
Sir, the topicks were ; and books of travels will be
good in proportion to what a man has previously in his
mind ; his knowing what to observe ; his power of
contrasting one mode of life with another. As the
Spanish proverb says, * He, who would bring home the
wealth of the Indies, must carry the wealth of the Indies
with him.' So it is in travelling ; a man must carry
knowledge with him, if he would bring home know-
ledge." BoswELL. " The proverb, I suppose, Sir,
means, he must carry a large stock with him to trade
with." Johnson. " Yes, Sir."
It was a delightful day : as we walked to St. Clem-
ent's church, 1 again remarked that Fleet-street was
the most cheerful scene in the world. " Fleet-street
(said I,) is in my mind more delightful than Tempe."
Johnson. " Ay, Sir ; but let it be compared with
Mull."
There was a very numerous congregation to-day at
St. Clement's church, which Dr. Johnson said he ob-
served with pleasure.
And now I am to give a pretty full account of one
of the most curious incidents in Johnson's life, of
which he himself has made the following minute on
this day ; " In my return from church, I was accosted
by Edwards, an old fellow-collegian, who had not seen
me since 1729- He knew me, and asked if I remem-
bered one Edwards ; I did not at first recollect the name,
but gradually as we walked along, recovered it, and told
him a conversation that had passed at an alehouse be-
tween us. My purpose is to continue our acquaint-
ance." 3
It was in Butcher-row that this meeting happened.
Mr. Edwards, who was a decent-looking elderly man in
grey clothes, and a wig of many curls, accosted John-
son with familiar confidence, knowing who he was, while
Johnson returned his salutaion with a courteous for-
^ Prayers and Meditations, p. 164.
22 THE LIFE OF
J778. mality, as to a stranger. But as soon as Edwards had
2J^ brought to his recollection their having been at Pem-
69, ' broke-College together nine-and-forty years ago, he
seemed much pleased, asked where he lived, and said
he should be glad to see him in Bolt-court. Edwards.
" Ah, Sir ! we are old men now." Johnson, (who never
]iked to think of being old :) " Don't let us discourage
one another." Edwards. " Why, Doctor, you look
stout and hearty, 1 am happy to see you so ; for the
newspapers told us you were very ill." Johnson. " Ay,
Sir, they are always telling lies of us old fellows"
Wishing to be present at more of so singular a conver-
sation as that between two fellow-collegians, who had
lived forty years in London without ever having chanced
to meet, 1 whispered to Mr. Edwards that Dr. Johnson
was going home, and that he had better accompany
him now. So Edwards walked along with us, 1 eagerly
assisting to keep up the conversation. Mr. Edwards in-
formed Dr. Johnson that he had practised long as a soli-
citor in Chancery, but that he now lived in the country
upon a little farm, about sixty acres, just by Stevenage in
Hertfordshire, and that he came to London (to Barnard's
Inn, No. 6,) generally twice a week. Johnson appear-
ing to me in a reverie, Mr. Edwards addressed himself
to me, and expatiated on the pleasure of living in the
country. Boswell. " 1 have no notion of this, Sir.
W^hat you have to entertain you, is, 1 think, exhausted
in half an hour." Edwards. " What? don't you love
to have hope realized I 1 see my -grass, and my corn,
and my trees growing. Now, for instance, 1 am curi-
ous to see if this frost has not nipped my fruit-trees."
Johnson, (who we did not imagine was attending :)
*'• You find. Sir, you have fears as well as hopes." — So
well did he see the whole, when another saw but the
half of a subject.
When we got to Dr. Johnson's house, and were
seated in his library, the dialogue went on admirably.
Edwards. " Sir, 1 remember you would not let us
S2iy prodigious 2iX. CoWe^e. For even then. Sir, (turn-
ing to me,) he was delicate in language, and we all
DR. JOHNSON. 25
feared him."* Johnson, (to Edwards :) " From your i"78.
having practised the law long, Sir, 1 presume you ^J^
must be rich." Edwards. " No, Sir ; I got a good 69. *
deal of money ; but I had a number of poor relations
to whom 1 gave a great part of it." Johnson. " Sir,
vou have been rich in the most valuable sense of the
word." Edwards. " But I shall not die rich." John-
son. " Nay, sure, sir, it is better to /ive rich, than to die
rich." Edwards. " I wish I had continued at Col-
lege." Johnson. " Why do you wish that. Sir l" Ed-
wards. " Because I think I should have had a much
easier life than mine has been. 1 should have been a
parson, and had a good living, like Bloxham and several
others, and lived comfortably." Johnson. " Sir, the life of
a parson, of a conscientious clergyman, is not easy. I
have always considered a clergyman as the father of a
larger family than he is able to maintain. I would
rather have Chancery suits upon my hands than the
cure of souls. No, Sir, I do not envy a clergyman's
life as an easy life, nor do I envy the clergyman who
makes it an easy life." — Here taking himself up all of
a sudden, he exclaimed, " O ! Mr. Edwards ! Pll con-
vince you that I recollect you. Do you remember our
drinking together at an alehouse near Pembroke gate.
At that time, you told me of the Eton boy, who, when
verses on our Saviour's turning water into wine were
prescribed as an exercise, brought up a single line,
which was highly admired :
* Vidit et erubuit lympha pudica Deum.'^
* Johnson said to me afterwards, " Sir, they respected me for literature ; and
yet it was not great but by comparison. Sir, it is amazing how little literature
there is in the world."
"■ [This line has frequently been attributed to Dryden, when a King's Scholar at
Westminster. But neither Eton nor Westminster have in truth any claim to it,
the line being borrowed, with a slight change, (as Mr. Bindley has observed to
me,) from an epigram by Crashaw, which was pubUshed in his Epigrammata
Sacra, first printed at Cambridge without the author's name, in 1634, 8vo.—
The original is much more elegant than the copy, the water 'oeing personified, and
the word on which the point of the Epigram turns, being reserved to the close o"*'
the line :
" JOANN. 2.
" Aquae in vinum versa.
" Unde rubor vestris et non sua purpura lymphis '
24 THE LIFE OP
1778. and I told you of another fine line in ' Camden's Re-
^'^ mains/ an eulogy upon one of our Kings, who was
6g. succeeded by his son, a prince of equal merit :
* Mira cano, Sol occubuit, nox nulla secuta est."
Edwards. " You are a philosopher, Dr. Johnson.
I have tried too in my time to be a philosopher ; but,
I don't know how, cheerfulness was always breaking
in." — Mr. Burke, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Courtenay,
Mr. Malone, and, indeed, all the eminent men to
whom I have mentioned this, have thought it an exqui-
site trait of character. The truth is, that philosophy,
like religion, is too generally supposed to be hard and
severe, at least so grave as to exclude all gaiety.
Edwards. " I have been twice married, Doctor.
You, 1 suppose, have never known what it was to have
a wife." Johnson. " Sir, I have known what it was
to have a wife, and (in a solemn tender faltering tone)
I have known what it was to /ose a wife. — It had al-
most broke my heart."
Edwards. " How do you live, Sir ? For my part,
I must have my regular meals, and a glass of good
wine. 1 find 1 require it." Johnson. " 1 now drink
no wine, Sir. Early in life I drank wine : for many years
I drank none. I then for some years drank a great
deal." Edwards. *' Some hogsheads, I warrant you."
Johnson. " I then had a severe illness, and left it off,
and 1 have never begun it again. I never felt any dif-
ference upon myself from eating one thing rather than
another, nor from one kind of weather rather than anoth-
er. There are people, 1 believe, who feel a difference ;
but I am not one of them. And as to regular meals, I
have fasted from the Sunday's dinner to the Tuesday's
dinner, without any inconvenience. 1 believe it is
best to eat just as one is hungry : but a man who is in
business, or a man who has a family, must have stated
meals. I am a straggler. 1 may leave this town and
go to Grand Cairo, without being missed here or observ-
" Qux rosa mirantes tarn nova mutat aquas ?
" Numen, convivse, praesens agnoscite numen,
" Nympha pudica Deum vidit, ct erubuit. M.l
DR. JOHNSON. 23
ed there.^* Edwards. " Don't you eat supper, Sir !" 1778.
Johnson. " No, Sir/' Edwards. " For my part, now, ^J^
I consider supper as a turnpike through which one 69.
must pass, in order to get to bed."^
Johnson. " You are a lawyer, Mr. Edwards. Law-
yers know life practically. A bookish man should al-
ways have them to converse with. They have what he
wants." Edwards. " 1 am grown old : 1 am sixty-
five." Johnson. " 1 shall be sixty-eight next birth-
day. Come, Sir, drink water, and put in for a hun-
dred."
Mr. Edwards mentioned a gentleman who had left
his whole fortune to Pembroke College. Johnson.
" Whether to leave one's whole fortune to a College
be right, must depend upon circumstances. 1 would
leave the interest of the fortune 1 bequeathed to a Col-
lege to my relations or my friends, for their lives. It is
the same thing to a College, which is a permanent so-
ciety, whether it gets the money now or twenty years
hence ; and 1 would wish to make my relations or
friends feel the benefit of it."
This interview confirmed my opinion of Johnson's
most humane and benevolent heart. His cordial and
placid behaviour to an old fellow collegian, a man so
different from himself; and his telling him that he
would go down to his farm and visit him, shewed a
kindness of disposition very rare at an advanced age.
He observed, '• how wonderful it was that they had
both been in London forty years, without having ever
once met, and both walkers in the street too I" Mr.
Edwards, when going away, again recurred to his con-
sciousness of senility, and looking full in Johnson's face,
said to him, " You'll find in Dr. Young,
' O my coevals ! remnants of yourselves."
Johnson did not relish this at all ; but shook his head
with impatience. Edwards walked off seemingly high-
ly pleased with the honour of having been thus noticed
by Dr. Johnson. When he was gone, I said to John-
' I am not absolutely sure but this was my own suggestion, though it is truly
in the character of Edwards.
VOL. III. 4
26 THE LIFE OF
J778. soil, I thought hira but a weak man. Johnson. " Why
^^ yes, Sir. Here is a man who has passed through life
Cp. without experience : yet I would rather have him with
me than a more sensible man who will not talk readily.
This man is always willing to say what he has to say."
Yet Dr. Johnson had himself by no means that will-
ingness which he praised so much, and I think so just-
ly ; for who has not felt the painful effect of the dreary
void, when there is a total silence in a company, for
any length of time ; or, which is as bad, or perhaps
worse, when the conversation is with difficulty kept up
by a perpetual effort ?
Johnson once observed to me, " Tom Tyers de-
scribed me the best : ' Sir, (said he,) you are like a
ghost : you never speak till you are spoken to."
The gentleman whom he thus familiarly mentioned,
was Mr. Thomas Tyers, son of Mr. Jonathan Tyers,
the founder of that excellent place of publick amuse-
ment, Vauxhall Gardens, which must ever be an estate
to its proprietor, as it is peculiarly adapted to the taste
of the English nation ; there being a mixture of curi-
ous shew, — gay exhibition, — musick, vocal and instru-
mental, not too refined for the general ear ; — for all
which only a shilling is paid ■,^ and, though last, not
least, good eating and drinking for those who choose to
purchase that regale. Mr. Thomas Tyers was bred to
the law ; but having a handsome fortune, vivacity of
temper, and eccentricity of mind, he could not confine
himself to the regularity of practice. He therefore ran
about the world with a pleasant carelessness, amusing
every body by his desultory conversation. He abound-
ed in anecdote, but was not sufficiently attentive to ac-
curacy. I therefore cannot venture to avail myself
much of a biographical sketch of Johnson which he pub-
lished, being one among the various persons ambitious of
appending their names to that of my illustrious friend.
" In summer 1792, additional and more expensive decorations, having been in-
troduced, tlie pwice of admission was raised to two shillings. I cannot approve of
this. The company may be more select ; but a number of the honest commonalty
are, I fear, excluded from sharing in elegant and innocent entertainment. An at-
tempt to abolish the one-shilling gallery at the playhouse has been very properly
counteracted.
DR. JOHNSON. 27
That sketch is, however, an entertaining little collec- 1 778.
tion of fragments. Those which he published of Pope ^^
and Addison are of higher merit ; but his fame must 6().
chiefly rest upon his " Political Conferences," in
which he introduces several eminent persons deliver-
ing their sentiments in the way of dialogue, and dis-
covers a considerable share of learning, various knowl-
edge, and discernment of character. This much may
I be allowed to say of a man who was exceedingly
obliging to me, and who lived with Dr. Johnson in as
easy a manner as almost any of his very numerous
acquaintance.
Mr. Edwards had said to me aside, that Dr. Johnson
should have been of a profession. I repeated the re-
mark to Johnson that 1 might have his own thoughts
on the subject. Johnson. " Sir, it ivould have been
better that I had been of a profession. I ought to
have been a lawyer." Boswell. " 1 do not think,
Sir, it would have been better, for we should not have
had the English Dictionary." Johnson. " But you
would have had Reports." Boswell. " Ay ; but
there would not have been another, who could have
written the Dictionary. There have been many very
good Judges. Suppose you had been Lord Chancel-
lor ; you would have delivered opinions with more
extent of mind, and in a more ca-namented manner,
than perhaps any Chancellor ever did, or ever will do.
But, I believe, causes have been as judiciously decided
as you could have done." Johnson. " Yes, Sir.
Property has been as well settled."
Johnson, however, had a noble ambition floating in
his mind, and had, undoubtedly, often speculated on
the possibility of his supereminent powers being re-
warded in this great and liberal country by the highest
honours of the state. Sir William Scott informs me,
that upon the death of the late Lord Lichfield, who
was Chancellor of the University of Oxford, he said to
Johnson, " What a pity it is, Sir, that you did not fol-
low the profession of the law. You might have been
Lord Chancellor of Great Britain, and attained to the
dignity of the peerage ; aad now that the title of
28 THE LIFE OF
1778. Lichfield, your native city, is extinct, you might have
^J^ had it." Johnson, upon this, seemed much agitated ;
eg. and, in an angry tone, exclaimed, " Why will you vex
me by suggesting this, when it is too late ?"
But he did not rejDine at the prosperity of others.
The late Dr. Thomas ]^eland told Mr. Courtenay, that
when Mr. Edmund Burke shewed Johnson his fine
house and lands near Beaconsfield, Johnson coolly
said, ' No7i equidem invideo ; miror magis.' ^
Yet no man had a higher notion of the dignity of
literature than Johnson, or was more determined in
maintaining the respect which he justly considered as
due to it. Of this, besides the general tenour of his
conduct in society, some characteristical instances may
be mentioned.
He told Sir Joshua Reynolds, that once when he
dined in a numerous company of booksellers, where
the room being small, the head of the table, at which
he sat, was almost close to the fire, he persevered in
suffering a great deal of inconvenience from the heat,
rather than quit his place, and let one of them sit
above him.
Goldsmith, in his diverting simplicity, complained
one day, in a mixed company, of Lord Camden. " I
met him (said he) at Lord Clare's house in the coun-
try, and he took no more notice of me than if 1 had
been an ordinary man." The company having laughed
^ I am not entirely without susfjicion tliat Jolinson may have felt a little mo~
nientary envy ; for no man loved the good things of this life better than he did ;
and he could not but be conscious tliat he deserved a much larger share of them,
than he ever had. I attempted in a newspaper to comment on the above passage
in the manner of Warburton, who riust be allowed to have sliewn uncommon in*
genuity, in giving to any authour's text whatever meaning he chose it should carry.
As this imitation may amuse my readers, 1 shall here introduce it :
" No saying of Dr. Johnson's has been more misunderstood than his applying
to Mr. Burke when he first saw him at his fine place at Beaconsfield, Non equidem
invideo ; miror m.iajs. These two celebrated men had been friends for many years
before Mr. Burke entered on his parliamentary career. They were both writers,
both members of The Literarv Club ; when, therefore, Dr. Johnson saw Mr.
Burke in a situation so much more splendid than that to which he himself had
attained, he did not mean to express that he thought it a disproportionate prosper-
ity ; but while he, .is a philosopher, asserted an exemption from envy, non equidem
invideo, he went on in the words of the poet miror magis ; thereby signifying, either
that he was occupied in admiring what he was glad to see ; or, perhaps, that con^.
sidering the general lot of men of superiour abilities, he wondered, that Fortune,
who is represented as blind, should, in this instance, have been so just."
DR. JOHNSON. 29
heartily, Johnson stood forth in defence of his friend. 1778.
" Nay, Gentlemen, (said he,) Dr. Goldsmith is in the ^J^
right. A nobleman ought to have made up to such a 69.
man as Goldsmith ; and I think it is much against
Lord Camden that he neglected him."
Nor could he patiently endure to hear, that such
respect as he thought due only to higher intellectual
qualities, should be bestowed on men of shghter,
though perhaps more amusing talents. 1 told him,
that one morning, when 1 went to breakfast with Gar-
rick, who was very vain of his intimacy with Lord
Camden, he accosted me thus : — " Fray now, did you
— did you meet a little lawyer turning the corner,
eh V — " No, Sir, (said L) Pray what do you mean
by the question ?" — " Why, (replied Garrick, with an
affected indifference, yet as if standing on tip-toe,)
Lord Camden has this moment left me. We have
had a long walk together." Johnson. " Well, Sir,
Garrick talked very properly. Lord Camden zvas a
/itt/e luwijer to be associating so familiarly with a
player,"
Sir Joshua Reynolds, observed, with great truth,
that Johnson considered Garrick to be as it were his
property. He would allow no man either to blame or
to praise Garrick in his presence, without contradicting
him.
Having fallen into a very serious frame of mind, in
which mutual expressions of kindness passed between
us, such as would be thought too vain in me to repeat,
I talked with regret of the sad inevitable certainty that
one of us must survive the other. Johnson. " Yes,
Sir, that is an affecting consideration. I remember
Swift, in one of his letters to Pope, says, ' I intend to
come over, that we may meet once more ; and when
we must part, it is what happens to all human beings."
BosAVELL. " The hope that we shall see our departed
friends again must support the mind." Johnson.
" Why yes, Sir."^ Boswell. " There is a strange
unwillingness to part with life, independent of serious
fears as to futurity. A reverend friend of ours (nam-
' [See on the sam^ subject, voL ii. p. 18. M.]
30 THE LIFE OF
1778. ing him) tells me, that he feels an uneasiness at the
^^J^ thoughts of leaving his house, his study, his books."
69. Johnson. "This is foolish in *****. A man need
not be uneasy on these grounds ; for, as he will retain
his consciousness, he may say with the philosopher.
Omnia mea mecum porto" Boswell. " True, Sir :
we may carry our books in our heads ; but still there
is something painful in the thought of leaving for ever
what has given us pleasure. 1 remember, many years
ago, when my imagination was warm, and I happened
to be in a melancholy mood, it distressed me to think
of going into a state of being in which Shakspeare^s
poetry did not exist. A lady whom I then much ad-
mired, a very amiable woman, humoured my fancy,
and relieved me by saying, ' The first thing you will
meet in the other world, will be an elegant copy of
Shakspeare's works presented to you." Dr. Johnson
smiled benignantly at this, and did not appear to dis-
approve of the notion.
We went to St. Clement's church again in the after-
noon, and then returned and drank tea and coflee in
Mrs. Williams's room ; Mrs. Desmoulins doing the
honours of the tea-table. I observed that he would
not even look at a proof-sheet of his " Life of Waller"
on Good-Friday.
Mr. Allen, the printer, brought a book on agricul-
ture, which was printed, and was soon to be published.
It was a very strange performance, the authour having
mixed in it his own thoughts upon various topicks,
along with his remarks on ploughing, sowing, and
other farming operations. He seemed to be an absurd
profane fellow, and had introduced in his book many
sneers at religion, with equal ignorance and conceit.
Dr. Johnson permitted me to read some passages aloud.
One was, that he resolved to work on Sunday, and did
work, but he owned he felt some weak compunction ;
and he had this very curious reflection : — " I was born
in the wilds of Christianity, and the briars and thorns
still hang about me." Dr. Johnson could not help
laughing at this ridiculous image, yet was very angry
at the fellow's impiety. " However, (said he,) the
DR. JOHNSON. 31
Reviewers will make him hang himself." He, how- i778.
ever, observed, " that formerly there might have been ^^
a dispensation obtained for working on Sunday in the 69.
time of harvest." Indeed in ritual observances, were
all the ministers of religion what they should be, and
what many of them are, such a power might be wisely
and safely lodged with the Church.
On Saturday, April 14, I drank tea with him. He
praised the late Mr. Duncombe, ' of Canterbury, as a
pleasing man. " He used to come to me ; I did not
seek much after him. Indeed I never sought much
after any body." Boswell. " Lord Orrery, I sup-
pose." Johnson. " No, Sir ; I never went to him but
when he sent for me." Boswell. " Richardson V*
Johnson. "Yes, Sir. But I sought after George Psal-
manazar the most. I used to go and sit with him at
an alehouse in the city."
I am happy to mention another instance which I
discovered of his seeking after a man of merit. Soon
after the Honourable Daines Barrington had published
his excellent " Observations on the Statutes,"^ John-
son waited on that worthy and learned gentleman ; and,
having told him his name, courteously said, " I have
read your book. Sir, with great pleasure, and wish to
be better known to you." Thus began an acquaint-
ance, which was continued with mutual regard as long
as Johnson lived.
Talking of a recent seditious delinquent, he said,
" They should set him in the pillory, that he may be
punished in a way that would disgrace him." I ob-
served, that the pillory does not always disgrace. And
I mentioned an instance of a gentleman, who I thought
was not dishonoured by it. Johnson. " Ay, but he
was. Sir. He could not mouth and strut as he used to
do, after having been there. People are not willing to
ask a man to their tables, who has stood in the pillory.^'
' [William Duncombe, Esq. He married the sister of John Hughes, the poet ;
was the author of two tragedies, and other ingenious productions ; and died Feb.
26, 1769, aged 79. M.]
^ [4to. 1766. The worthy author died many years after Jehnson, March 13,
180G, aged about 74. M.l
32 THE LIFE OF
1778. The Gentleman who had dined with us at Dr. Per-
^J^cy's^ came in. Johnson attacked the Americans with
69. intemperate vehemence of abuse. 1 said something in
their favour ; and added, that I was always sorry, when
he talked on that subject. This, it seems, exasperated
him ; though he said nothing at the time. The cloud
was charged with sulphureous vapour, which was af-
terwards to burst in thunder. — We talked of a gentle-
man who was running out his fortune in London ; and
I said, " We must get him out of it. All his friends
must quarrel with him, and that will soon drive him
away." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, we'll send i/ou to him.
If your company does not drive a man out of his house,
nothing v;ill." This was a horrible shock, for which
there was no visible cause. I afterwards asked him,
why he had said so harsh a thing. Johnson. " Because,
Sir, you made me angry about the Americans.'' Bos-
well. " But why did you not take your revenge di-
rectly ?" Johnson, (smiling) " Because, Sir, 1 had
nothing ready. A man cannot strike till he has his
weapons." This was a candid and pleasant confession.
He shewed me to-night his drawing-room, very
genteelly fitted up ; and said, " Mrs. I'hrale sneered,
when I talked of my having asked you and your lady
to live at my house. 1 was obliged to tell her, that
you would be in as respectable a situation in my house
as in hers. Sir, the insolence of wealth will creep
out." BoswELL. " She has a little both of the inso-
lence of wealth, and the conceit of parts." Johnson.
" The insolence of wealth is a wretched thing ; but
the conceit of parts has some foundation. To be sure,
it should not be. But who is without it!" Boswell.
" Yourself, Sir." Johnson. " Why 1 play no tricks :
I lay no traps." Boswell. " No, Sir. You are six
feet high, and you only do not stoop."
We talked of the numbers of people that sometimes
have composed the household of great families. I
mentioned that there were a hundred in the family of
the present Earl of Eglintoune's father. Dr. Johnson
3 See p. 508, of Volume II.
DR. JOHNSON. 33
seeming to doubt it, I began to enumerate. " Let us 1773-
see : my Lord and my Lady two." Johnson. " Nay, ^J^
Sir, if you are to count by twos, you may be long 6g.
enough." Boswell. " AVell, but now I add two sons
and seven daughters, and a servant for each, that will
make twenty ; so we have the fifth part already."
Johnson. " Very true. You get at twenty pretty
readily ; but you will not so easily get further on. We
grow to five feet pretty readily ; but it is not so easy
to grow to seven."
On Sunday, April 19, being Easter day, after the
solemnities of the festival in St. Paul's Church, I visit-
ed him, but could not stay to dinner. 1 expressed a
wish to have the arguments for Christianity always in
readiness, that my religious faith might be as firm and
clear as any proposition whatever, so that 1 need not
be under the least uneasiness, when it should be at-
tacked. Johnson. " Sir, you cannot answer all ob-
jections. You have demonstration for a First Cause :
you see he must be good as well as powerful, because
there is nothing to make him otherwise, and goodness
of itself is preferable. Yet you have against this, what
is very certain, the unhappiness of human life. This^
however, gives us reason to hope for a future state of
compensation, that there may be a perfect system. But
of that we were not sure, till we had a positive revela-
tion." 1 told him, that his " Rasselas" had often made
me unhappy ; for it represented the misery of human
life so well, and so convincingly to a thinking mind,
that if at any time the impression wore off, and 1 felt
myself easy, I began to suspect some delusion.
On Monday, April 20, I found him at home in the
morning. We talked of a gentleman who we appre-
hended was gradually involving his circumstances by
bad management. Johnson. " Wasting a fortune is
evaporation by a thousand imperceptible means. If it
were a stream, they'd stop it. You must speak to him.
It is really miserable. Were he a gamester, it could
be said he had hopes of winning. Were he a bank-
rupt in trade, he might have grown rich ; but he has
neither spirit to spend, nor resolution to spare. He
VOL. II T. 5
^4 THE LIFE OF
^778. does not spend fast enough to have pleasure from it.
^^^ He has the crime of prodigality, and the wretchedness
09. of parsimony. If a man is killed in a duel, he is killed
as many a one has been killed ; but it is a sad thing for
a man to lie down and die ; to bleed to death, because
he has not fortitude enough to sear the wound, or even
to stitch it up." I cannot but pause a moment to ad-
mire the fecundity of fancy, and choice of language,
which in this instance, and, indeed, on almost all occa-
sions, he displayed. It was well observed by Dr. Per-
cy, now Bishop of Dromore, " The conversation of
Johnson is strong and clear, and may be compared to
an antique statue, where every vein and muscle is dis-
tinct and bold. Ordinary conversation resembles an
inferiour cast."
On Saturday, April 25, I dined with him at Sir Josh-
ua Reynolds's, with the learned Dr. Musgrave,* Coun-
sellor Leland of Ireland, son to the historian, Mrs. Chol-
mondele\', and some more ladies. " The Project," a
new poem, was read to the company by Dr. Musgrave.
Johnson. " Sir, it has no power. Were it not for the
well-known names with which it is filled, it would be
nothing : the names carry the poet, not the poet the
names." Musgrave. " A temporary poem always en-
tertains us." Johnson. " So does an account of the
criminals hanged yesterday entertain us."
He proceeded ; — " Demosthenes Taylor, as he was
called, (that is, the Editor of Demosthenes) was tho
most silent man, the merest statue'of a man that I have
ever seen. I once dined in company with him, and all
he said during the whole time was no more than Rich-
ard. How a man should say only Richard, it is not
easy to imagine. But it was thus : Dr. Douglas was
talking of Dr. Zachary Grey, and ascribing to him some-
thing that was written by Dr. Richard Grey. So, to
correct him, Taylor said, (imitating his affected senten-
tious emphasis and nod) ' Richard. ^"^
Mrs. Cholmondeley, in a high flow of spirits, exhib-
ited some lively sallies of hyperbolical compliment to
■' [Samuel Musgrave, M. D. Editor of Euripides, and author of " Dissertations
on tlie Grecian Mythology," &c. published in 1782, after his death, by Mr. Tyr-
wliitt. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 35
Johnson, with whom she had been long acquainted, 1778.
and was very easy. He was quick in catching the man- ^[^^
ner of the moment, and answered her somewhat in the op.
style of the hero of a romance, " Madam, you crown
me with unfading laurels."
I happened, I know not how, to say that a pamphlet
meant a prose piece. Johnson. " No, Sir. A few
sheets of poetry unbound are a pamphlet,' as much as
a few sheets of prose." Musgrave. " A pamphlet
may be understood to mean a poetical piece in West-
minster-Hall, that is, in formal language ; but in com-
mon language it is understood to mean prose." John-
son, (and here was one of the many instances of his
knowing clearly and telling exactly how a thing is,)
" A pamphlet is understood in common language to
mean prose, only from this, that there is so much more
prose written than poetry ; as when we say a hooli\ prose
is understood for the same reason, though a book may
as well be in poetry as in prose. We understand what
is most general, and we name what is less frequent."
We talked of a lady's verses on Ireland. Miss Rey-
nolds. " Have you seen them. Sir ?" Johnson. "No,
Madam, I have seen a translation from Horace, by one
of her daughters. She shewed it me." Miss Rey-
nolds. " And how was it, Sir?" Johnson. •' Why,
very well for a young Miss's verses ; — that is to say,
compared with excellence, nothing ; but, very well,
for the person who wrote them. 1 am vexed at being-
shewn verses in that manner." Miss Reynolds. "But
if they should be good, why not give them hearty
praise ?" Johnson. " Why, Aladam, because I have
not then got the better of my bad humour from having
been shewn them. You must consider. Madam ; be-
forehand they may be bad, as well as good. Nobody
has a right to put another under such a difficulty, that
he must either hurt the person by telling the truth, or
^ {Dr. Johnson is here perfectly correct, and is supported by the usage of preced-
ing \vriters. So in A-Iusarum Delici;e, a collection of poems, bvo. 1656, (the
writer is speaking of Suckling's play entitled Aglaura, printed in folio) :
" This great voluminous pamphlet may be said,
" To be like one, that hath more hair than head." M.]
36 THE LIFE OF
1778. hurt himself by telling what is not true." Hoswell.
^tsLt '' ^ "^^" often shews his writings to people of eminence,
69, to obtain from them, either from their good-nature, or
from their not being able to tell the truth firmly, a com-
mendation, of which he may afterwards avail himself."
Johnson. " A ery true, Sir. Therefore the man, who
is asked by an authour, what he thinks of his work, is
put to the torture, and is not obliged to speak the truth :
so that what he says is not considered as his opinion ;
yet he has said it, and cannot retract it ; and this authour
when mankind are hunting him with a canister at his
tail, can say, ' I would not have published, had not
Johnson, or Reynolds, or Musgrave, or some other good
judge commended the work. Yet 1 consider it as a
very difficult question in conscience, whether one should
advise a man not to publish a work, if profit be his ob-
ject ; for the man may say, ' Had it not been for you,
1 should have had the money.* Now you cannot be
sure ; for you have only your own opinion, and the pub-
lick may think very differently." Sir Joshua Rey-
nolds. "You must upon such an occasion have two
judgements ; one as to the real value of the work, the
other as to what may please the general taste at the
time." Johnson. " But you can be sw^e of neither ;
and therefore I should scruple much to give a suppres-
sive vote. Both Goldsmith's comedies were once re-
fused; his first by Garrick, his second by Colman, who
was prevailed on at last b}' much solicitation, nay, a
kind of force, to bring it on. His * Vicar of Wakefield*
I myself did not think would have had much success.
It was written and sold to a bookseller ; before his
' Traveller ;' but published after ; so little expectation
had the bookseller from it. Had it been sold after the
' Traveller,' he might have had twice as much money
for it, though sixty guineas was no mean price. The
bookseller had the advantage of Goldsmith's reputation
from 'The Traveller' in the sale, though Goldsmith
had it not in selling the copy." Sir Joshua Reynolds.
" The Beggar's Opera affords a proof how strangely
people will differ in opinion about a literary perform-
aoce, Burke thinks it has no merit." Johnson. " It
DR. JOHNSON. 37
was refused by one of the houses ; but I should have •778-
thought it would succeed, not from any great excellence JJJ^
in the writing, but from the novelty, and the general 69.
spirit and gaiety of the piece, which keeps the audience
always attentive, and dismisses them in good humour."
We went to the drawing-room, where was a consid-
erable increase of company. Several of us got round
Dr. Johnson, and complained that he would not giv^e
us an exact catalogue of his works, that there might be
a complete edition. He smiled, and evaded our en-
treaties. That he intended to do it, 1 have no doubt,
because I have heard him say so ; and I have in my
possession an imperfect list, fairly written out, which
he entitles Historia Studiorum. I once got from one
of his friends a list, which there was pretty good reason
to suppose was accurate, for it was written down in his
presence by this friend, who enumerated each article
aloud, and had some of them mentioned to him by Mr,
Levet, in concert with whom it was made out ; and
Johnson, who heard all this, did not contradict it. But
when I shewed a copy of this list to him, and mention-
ed the evidence for its exactness, he laughed and said,
" I was willing to let them go on as they pleased, and
never interfered." Upon which I read it to him, article
by article, and got him positively to own or refuse ; and
then, having obtained certainty so far, I got some other
articles confirmed by him directly, and afterwards, from
time to time, made additions under his sanction.
His friend, Edward Cave, having been mentioned,
he told us, " Cave used to sell ten thousand of ' The
Gentleman's Magazine -' yet such was then his minute
attention and anxiety that the sale should not suffer
the smallest decrease, that he would name a particular
person who he heard had talked of leaving off the
Magazine, and would say, ' Let us have something
good next month."
It was observed, that avarice was inherent in some
dispositions. Johnson. " No man was born a miser,
because no man was born to possession. Every man
is born cupidus — desirous of getting ; but not avarus^ —
desirous of keeping." Boswell. " I have heard old
38 THE LIFE OP
1778. Mr. Sheridan maintain, with much ingenuity, that a
^^ complete miser is a happy man ; a miser who gives
69. himself wholly to the one passion of saving." John-
son. " That is flying in the face of all the world, who
have called an avaricious man a miser, because he is
miserable. No, Sir ; a man who both spends and saves
money is the happiest man, because he has both en-
joyments."
The conversation having turned on Bon-Mots, he
quoted, from one of the Ana, an exquisite instance of
flattery in a maid of honour in France, who being
asked by the Queen what o'clock it was, answered,
*' What your Majesty pleases." He admitted that
Mr. Burke's classical pun upon Mr. Wilkes's being
carried on the shoulders of the mob,
-numerisque Jertur
" Lege soiuius,'
was admirable ; and though he was strangely unwill-
ing to allow to that extraordinary man the talent of
wit,*5 he also laughed with approbation at another of
his playful conceits ; which was, that " Horace has in
one line given a description of a good desirable manour :
' £st modus in rebus, simt certi denique fines ;'^
that is to say, a modus as to the tithes, and certain
fines. ^^
He observed, " A man cannot with propriety speak
of himself, except he relates siiti pie facts ; as, '1 was
at Richmond :' or what depends on mensuration ; as,
' I am six feet high.' He is sure he has been at Rich-
' See tliis question fully investigated in tlie Notes upon my " Journal of a Tour
to the Hebrides," edit. 3, p. 2\,et seq. And here, as a lawyer mindful of the max-
im Suum cuiqtie iribiiito, 1 cannot forbear to mention, that the additional Note begin-
ning with " I find since the former edition," is not mine, but was obhgingly fur-
nished by Mr. Malone, who was so kind as to superintend the press while I was
in Scotland, and the first part of the second edition was printing. He would not
allow me to ascribe it to its proper authour ; but, as it is exquisitely acute and el-
egant, I take this opportunity, without his knowledge, to do him justice.
" [This, as both Mr. Bindley and Dr. Kearney have observed to me, is the motto
to " An Enquiry into Customary Estates and Tenant's Rights, &c. — with some
considerations for restraining excessive Jines." By Everard Fleetwood, Esq. 8vo.
1731. But it is, probably, a mere coincidence. Mr. Burke perhaps never saw
that pamphlet. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 39
mond ; he is sure he is six feet high : but he cannot 1778.
be sure he is wise, or that he has any other excellence. ]e^
Then, all censure of a man's self is oblique praise. It &g.'
is in order to shew how much he can spare. It has ail
the invidiousness of self-praise, and all the reproach of
falsehood.^' Boswell. " Sometimes it may proceed
from a man's strong consciousness of his faults being
observed. He knows that others would throw him
down, and therefore he had better lie down softly of his
own accord."
On Tuesday, April 28, he was engaged to dine at
General Paoli's, where, as I have already observed, I
was still entertained in elegant hospitality, and with all
the ease and comfort of a home. I called on him, and
accompanied him in a hackney-coach. We stopped
first at the bottom of Hedge-lane, into which he went
to leave a letter, " with good news for a poor man in
distress," as he told me. 1 did not question him par-
ticularly as to this. He himself often resembled Lady
Bolingbroke's lively description of Pope : that " he
was un politique aux choux et uiix raves.^^ He would
say, " I dine to-day in Grosvenor-square ;" this might
be with a Duke ; or, perhaps, " I dine to-day at the
other end of the town :" or, " A gentleman of great
eminence called on me yesterday." — He loved thus to
keep things floating in conjecture : Omne ig not urn pro
magnifico est. I believe 1 ventured to dissipate the
cloud, to unveil the mystery, more freely and frequently
than any of his friends. We stopped again at Wirg-
man's, the well-known toy-shop^ in St. James's-Street,
at the corner of St. James's-Palace, to which he had
been directed, but not clearly, for he searched about
some time, and could not find it at first ; and said,
" To direct one only to a corner shop is toifin<^ with
one." 1 suppose he meant this as a play upon the
word toy ; it was the first time that I knew him to
stoop to such sport. After he had been some time in
the shop, he sent for me to come out of the coach,
and help him to choose a pair of silver buckles, as
those he had were too small. Probably this alteration
in dress had been suggested by Mrs. Thraie, by asscK
40 THE LIFE OF
1778. dating with whom, his external appearance was much
^J^ improved. He got better cloaths ; and the dark col-
69. our, from which he never deviated, was enhvened by
metal buttons. His wigs, too, were much better ; and
during their travels in France, he was furnished with a
Paris-made wig, of handsome construction. This
choosing of silver buckles was a negociation : " Sir,
(said he,) I will not have the ridiculous large ones now
in fashion ; and 1 will give no more than a guinea for
a pair." Such were the princ'/ples of the business ;
and, after some examination, he was fitted. As we
drove along, I found him in a talking humour, of which
I availed myself. Boswell. " 1 was this morning in
Ridley's shop. Sir ; and was told, that the collection
called ' tfo/^y«60?2m««' has sold very much." Johnson.
" Yet the ' Journey to the Hebrides, has not had a
great sale."* Boswell. " That is strange." Johnsox.
" Yes, Sir ; for in that book 1 have told the world a
great deal that they did not know before."
Boswell. " I drank chocolate, Sir, this morning
with Mr. Eld ; and, to my no small surprize, found him
to be a Staffordshire W/iig^ a being which 1 did not
believe had existed." Johnson. " Sir, there are ras-
cals in all countries." Boswell. " Eld said, a Tory
was a creature generated between a non-juring parson
and one's grandmother." Johnson. " And I have al-
ways said, the first Whig was the Devil." Boswell.
" He certainly was, Sir. The Devil was impatient of
subordination ; he was the first who resisted power :
" Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven."
At General Paoli's were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr.
I^ngton, Marchese Gherardi of Lombardy, and Mr.
John Spottiswoode the younger, of Spottiswoode,'' the
^ Here he either was mistaken, or had a different notion of an extensive sale
from what is generally entertained : for the fact is, that four thousand copies ot
that excellent work were sold very quickly. A new edition has been printed
since his death, besides that in the collection of his works.
[Another edition has been printed since Mr. Boswell wrote the above, besides
repeated editions in the general collection of his works during the last ten years. M.]
In the phraseology of Scotland, 1 should have said. " Mr. John Spottiswoode
the younger, of that ili." Johnson knew that sense of the word very well, and ha>
DR. JOHNSON. 41
solicitor. At this time fears of an invasion were circu* ^778.
lated ; to obviate which, Mr. Spottiswoode observed, ^Q^^
that Mr. Fraser the engineer, who had lately come gg.
from Dunkirk, said, that tlie French had the same fears
of us. Johnson. " It is thus that mutual cowardice
keeps us in peace. Were one half of mankind brave,
and one half cowards, the brave would be always beat-
ing the cowards. Were all brave, they would lead a
very uneasy life ; all would be continually fighting :
but being all cowards, we go on very well.''
We talked of drinking wine. Johnson. " I require
wine, only when 1 am alone. I have then often wish-
ed for it, and often taken it." Spottiswoode.
" What, by way of a companion, Sir ]" Johnson.
" To get rid of myself, to send myself away. Wine
gives great pleasure ; and every pleasure is of itself a
good. It is a good, unless counterbalanced by evil. A
man may have a strong reason not to drink wine ; and
that may be greater than the pleasure. Wine makes
a man better pleased with himself. 1 do not say that
it makes him more pleasing to others. Sometimes it
does. But the danger is, that while a man grows
better pleased with himself, he may be growing less
pleasing to others.' Wine gives a man nothing. It
neither gives him knowledge nor wit; it only animates
a man, and enables him to bring out what a dread of
the company has repressed. It only puts in motion
what has been locked up in frost. But this may be
good, or it may be bad.'' Spottiswoode. " So, Sir,
wine is a key which opens a box ; but this box may
be either full or empty ]" Johnson. " Nay, Sir, con-
versation is the key : wine is a pick-lock, which forces
open the box, and injures it. A man should cultivate his
mind so as to have that confidence and readiness with-
thus explained it in his Dictionary, -jecf Ilk — ^ It also signifies ' the same ;' as Mack-
intosh of that ilk, denotes a gentleman whose surname and tlie title of his estate are
the same."
' It is observed in Waller's Life, in the Biografhia Britannica, that he drank only
water ; and that while he sat in a company who were drinking wine, " he had
the dexterity to accommodate his discourse to the pitch of theirs as it sunt." If
excess in drinking be meant, the remark is acutely just. But surely, a moderate
use of wine gives a gaiety of spirits wliich water-drinkers know not.
VOL. III. 6
42 THE LIFE OF
1778. out wine, which wine gives." Boswell. " The great
^^ difficulty of resisting wine is from benevolence. For
69. instance, a good worthy man asks you to taste his wine,
which he has had twenty years in his cellar." John-
son. " Sir, all this notion about benevolence arises
from a man's imagining himself to be of more import-
ance to others, than he really is. They don't care a
farthing whether he drinks wine or not." Sir Joshua
Reynolds. " Yes, they do for the time." Johnson.
" For the time ! — If they care this minute, they forget
it the next. And as for the good worthy man ; how
do you know he is good and worthy I No good and
worthy man will insist upon another man's drinking
wine. As to the wine twenty years in the cellar, — of
ten men, three say this, merely because they must say
something ; three are telling a lie, when they say they
have had the wine twenty years ; — three would rather
save the wine ; — one, perhaps, cares. 1 allow it is
something to please one's company ; and people are
" always pleased with those who partake pleasure with
them. But after a man has brought himself to relin-
quish the great personal pleasure which arises from
drinking wine, any other consideration is a trifle. To
please others by drinking wine, is something only, if
there be nothing against it. 1 should, however, be
sorry to offend worthy men :
" Curst be the verse, how well so e'er it flow,
" That tends to make one worthy man my foe."
Boswell. " Curst be the spring, the zcafe?\^* John-
son. " But let us consider what a sad thing it would
be, if we were obliged to drink or do any thing else
that may happen to be agreeable to the company where
we are." Langton. " By the same rule you must
join with a gang of cut-purses." Johnson. " Yes,
Sir : but yet we must do justice to wine ; we must
allow it the power it possesses. To make a man pleas-
ed with himself, let me tell you, is doing a very great
thing
Si pat rite I'o/umus, si Nobis vivere
DR. JOHNSON. 43
1 was at this time myself a water-drinker, upon trial, '778-
by Johnson's recommendation. Johnson. " Boswell ^(^
is a bolder combatant than Sir Joshua : he argues for 69.
wine without the help of wine ; but Sir Joshua with
it.^' Sir Joshua Reynolds. " But to please one's
company is a strong motive." Johnson, (who, from
drinking only water, supposed every body who drank
wine to be elevated,) " 1 won't argue any more with
you, Sir. You are too far gone." Sir Joshua. "I
should have thought so indeed, Sir, had I made such a
speech as you have now done." Johnson, (draw-
ing himself in, and, I really thought blushing,) " Nay,
don't be angry. I did not mean to offend you." Sir
Joshua. " At first the taste of wine was disagreeable
to me ; but I brought myself to drink it, that 1 might
be like other people. The pleasure of drinking wine is
so connected with pleasing your company, that alto-
gether there is something of social goodness in it."
Johnson. " Sir, this is only saying the same thing over
again." Sir Joshua. " No, this is new." Johnson.
" You put it in new words, but it is an old thought.
This is one of the disadvantages of wine, it makes a
man mistake words for thoughts." Boswell. " I
think it is a new thought ; at least, it is in a new affi-
tudeP Johnson. " Nay, Sir, it is only in a new coat ;
or an old coat with a new facing. (Then laughing
heartily) It is the old dog in a new doublet. — An ex-
traordinary instance, however, may occur where a man's
patron will do nothing for him, unless he will drink : '
there may be a good reason for drinking."
I mentioned a nobleman, who I believed was really
uneasy, if his company would not drink hard. John-
son. " That is from having had people about him whom
he has been accustomed to command." Boswell.
" Supposing I should be tete-a-t^te with him at table."
Johnson. " Sir, there is no more reason for your drink-
ing with him^ than his being sober with ijou.^^ Bos-
well. " Why that is true ; for it would do him less
hurt to be sober, than it would do me to get drunk."
Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; and from what 1 have heard of
him, one would not wish to sacrifice himself to such a
44 THE LIFE OF
^ 778. man. If he must always have somebody to drink with
]^^ him, he should buy a slave, and then he would be sure
69. to have it. They who submit to drink as another
pleases, make themselves his slaves." Boswell. " But,
Sir, you will surely make allowance for the duty of
hospitality. A gentleman who loves drinking, comes
to visit me." Johnson. " Sir, a man knows whom he
visits ; he comes to the table of a sober man." Bos-
well. " But, Sir, you and I should not have been so
well received in the Highlands and Hebrides, if 1 had
not drunk with our worthy friends. Had 1 drunk
water only as you did, they would not have been so
cordial." Johnson. " Sir William Temple mentions,
that in his travels through the Netherlands he had two
or three gentlemen with him ; and when a bumper
was necessary, he put it on them. Were I to travel
again through the islands, 1 would have Sir Joshua
with me to take the bumpers." Boswell. " But, Sir,
let me put a case. Suppose Sir Joshua should take a
jaunt into Scotland ; he does me the honour to pay
me a visit at my house in the country ; 1 am overjoy-
ed at seeing him ; we are quite by ourselves ; shall I
unsociably and churlishly let him sit drinking by him-
self? No, no, my dear Sir Joshua, you shall not be
treated so, I wii/ take a bottle with you."
The celebrated Mrs. Rudd being mentioned. John-
son. " Fifteen years ago 1 should have gone to see
her." Spottiswoode. " Because she was fifteen years
younger ?" Johnson. " No, Sir ; but now they have
a trick of putting every thing into the news-papers."
He begged of General Faoli to repeat one of the
introductory stanzas of the first book of Tasso's " Je-
rusalem," which he did, and then Johnson found fault
with the simile of sweetening the edges of a cup for a
child, being transferred from Lucretius into an epick
poem. The General said he did not imagine Homer's
poetry was so ancient as is supposed, because he as-
cribes to a Greek colony circumstances of refinement
not found in Greece itself at a later period, when Thu-
cydides wrote. Johnson. " I recollect but one pas-
sage quoted by Thucydides from Homer, which is not
DR. JOHNSON. 45
to be found in our copies of Homer's works ; I am for i778.
the antiquity of Homer, and think that a Grecian col- ^"^
ony by being nearer Persia might be more refined than 69.
the mother country."
On Wednesday, April 29, I dined with him at Mr.
Allan Ramsay's, where were Lord Binning, Dr. Rob-
ertson the historian, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the
Honourable Mrs. Boscawen, widow of the Admiral,
and mother of the present Viscount Falmouth ; of
whom, if it be not presumptuous in me to praise her,
I would say, that her manners are the most agreeable,
and her conversation the best, of any lady with whom
I ever had the happiness to be acquainted. Before
Johnson came we talked a good deal of him ; Ramsay
said, he had always found him a very polite man, and
that he treated him with great respect, which he did
very sincerely. I said, I worshipped him. Robert-
son. " But some of you spoil him : you should not
worship him ; you should worship no man." Bos-
well. " 1 cannot help worshipping him, he is so much
superiour to other men." Robertson. " In criticism,
and in wit and conversation, he is no doubt very ex-
cellent ; but in other respects he is not above other
men ; he will believe any thing, and will strenuously
defend the most minute circumstance connected with
the Church of England." Boswell. " Believe me,
Doctor, you are much mistaken as to this ; for when
you talk with him calmly in private, he is very liberal
in his way of thijiking." Robertson. " He and I
have been always very gracious ; the first time I met
him was one evening at Strahan's, when he had just
had an unlucky altercation with Adam Smith, to whom
he had been so rough, that Strahan, after Smith was
gone, had remonstrated with him, and told him that J
was coming soon, and that he was uneasy to think that
he might behave in the same manner to me. ' No,
no. Sir, (said Johnson) I warrant you Robertson and 1
shall do very well.' Accordingly he was gentle and
good-humoured and courteous with me, the whole
evening ; and he has been so upon every occasion that
wp havp. met since. I have often said, (laughing) that
46 THE LIFE OF
1778. I have been in a great measure indebted to Smith for
SaT ^^y §^^^ reception." Boswell. " His power of rea-
69. * soning is very strong, and he has a pecuhar art of draw-
ing characters, which is as rare as good portrait paint-
ing." Sir Joshua Reynolds. " He is undoubtedly
admirable in this ; but, in order to mark the characters
which he draws, he overcharges them, and gives people
more than they really have, whether of good or bad."
No sooner did he, of whom we had been thus talk-
ing so easily, arrive, than we were all as quiet as a
school upon the entrance of the head-master ; and
were very soon sat down to a table covered with such
variety of good things, as contributed not a httle to dis-
pose him to be pleased.
Ramsay. " I am old enough to have been a con-
temporary of Pope. His poetry was highly admired
in his life-time, more a great deal than after his death."
Johnson. " Sir, it has not been less admired since his
death ; no authours ever had so much fame in their
own life-time as Pope and Voltaire ; and Pope's poetry
has been as much admired since his death as during
his life ; it has only not been as much talked of, but
that is owing to its being now more distant, and people
having other writings to talk of. Virgil is less talked of
than Pope, and Homer is less talked of than Virgil ;
but they are not less admired. We must read what
the world reads at the moment. It has been maintain-
ed that this superfetation, this teeming of the press in
modern times, is prejudicial to good literature, because
it obliges us to read so much of what is of inferiour
value, in order to be in the fashion ; so that better
works are neglected for want of time, because a man
will have more gratification of his vanity in conversa-
tion, from having read modern books, than from having
read the best works of antiquity. But it must be con-
sidered, that we have now more knowledge generally
diffused ; all our ladies read now, which is a great ex-
tension. Modern writers are the moons of literature ;
they shine with reflected light, with light borrowed
from the ancients. Greece appears to me to be the
fountain of knowled,2:e ; Rome of elegance.^' Ram-
r
DR. JOHNSON. 47
SAY. " I suppose Homer's ' Iliad' to be a collection »778.
of pieces which had been written before his time. 1 JJ^
should like to see a translation of it in poetical prose, 6(|. '
like the book of Ruth or Job." Robertson. " Would
you, Dr. Johnson, who are master of the English lan-
guage, but try your hand upon a part of it." John-
son. " Sir, you could not read it without the pleasure
of verse." ^
We talked of antiquarian researches. " Johnson.
" All that is really known of the ancient state of Britain
is contained in a few pages. We can know no more
than what the old writers have told us ; yet what large
books have we upon it, the whole of which, excepting
such parts as are taken from those old writers, is all a
dream, such as Whi taker's ' Manchester.' I have
heard Henry's ' History of Britain' well spoken of : I
am told it is carried on in separate divisions, as the
civil, the military, the religious history ; I wish much
to have one branch well done, and that is the history
of manners, of common life." Robertson. "Henry
should have applied his attention to that alone, which
is enough for any man ; and he might have found a
great deal scattered in various books, had he read sole-
ly with that view. Henry erred in not selling his first
volume at a moderate price to the booksellers, that
they might have pushed him on till he had got reputation.
I sold my ' History of Scotland' at a moderate price,
as a work by which the booksellers might either gain
or not ; and Cadell has told me, that Millar and he
have got six thousand pounds by it. I afterwards re-
ceived a much higher price for my writings. An au-
thour should sell his first work for what the booksellers
will give, till it shall appear whether he is an authour
of merit, or, which is the same thing as to purchase-
money, an authour who pleases the publick."
Dr. Robertson expatiated on the character of a
certain nobleman ; that he was one of the strongest
' This experiment which Madame Dacier made in vain, has since been tried in
our own language, by the editor of " Ossian," and we must either tliink very meanly
of his abilities, or allow that Dr. Johnson was in the right. And Mr. Cowper, a
man of real genius, has miserably faUed in his blank verse translation.
48 THE LIFE OF
1778. minded men that ever lived ; that he would sit in
^^^ company quite sluggish, while there was nothing to
6g, call forth his intellectual vigour ; but the moment that
any important subject was started, for instance, how
this country is to be defended against a French inva-
sion, he would rouse himself, and shew his extraordi-
nary talents with the most powerful ability and anima-
tion. Johnson. " Yet this man cut his own throat.
The true strong and sound mind is the mind that can
embrace equally great things and small. Now I am
told the King of Prussia will say to a servant, ' Bring
me a bottle of such a wine, which came in such a
year ; it lies in such a corner of the cellars.' 1 would
have a man great in great things, and elegant in little
things." He said to me afterwards, when we were by
ourselves, " Robertson was in a mighty romantick hu-
mour, he talked of one whom he did not know ; but I
downed him with the King of Prussia." — " Yes, Sir,
(said 1,) you threw a botf/e at his head."
An ingenious gentleman was mentioned, concerning
whom both Robertson and Ramsay agreed that he had
a constant firmness of mind ; for after a laborious day,
and amidst a multiplicity of cares and anxieties, he
would sit down with his sisters and be quite cheerful
and good-humoured. Such a disposition, it was ob-
served, was a happy gift of nature. Johnson. " I do
not think so ; a man has from nature a certain portion
of mind ; the use he makes of it depends upon his
own free will. That a man has "always the same firm-
ness of mind, I do not say ; because every man feels
his mind less firm at one time than another ; but I
think, a man's being in a good or bad humour depends
upon his will." — 1, however, could not help thinking
that a man's humour is often uncontrollable by his
will.
Johnson harangued against drinking wine. " A
man, (said he) may choose whether he will have ab-
stemiousness and knowledge, or claret and ignorance."
Dr. Robertson, (who is very companionable,) was be-
ginning to dissent as to the proscription of claret.
Johnson : (with a placid smile.) " Nay, Sir, you shall
DR. JOHNSON. 49
not differ with me ; as I have said that the man is ^778.
most perfect who takes in the most things, I am for j^J^
knowledge and claret." Robertson : (holding a glass 6a.
of generous claret in his hand.) " Sir, 1 can only drink
your health." Johnson. " Sir, 1 should be sorry if
you should be ever in such a state as to be able to do
nothing more." Robertson. " Dr. Johnson, allow
me to say, that in one respect I have the advantage of
you ; when you were in Scotland you would not come
to hear any of our preachers, whereas, when I am here,
I attend your publick worship without scruple, and in-
deed, with great satisfaction." Johnson. " Why, Sir,
that is not so extraordinary : the King of Siam sent
ambassadours to Louis the Fourteenth ; but Louis the
Fourteenth sent none to the King of Siam."^
Here my friend for once discovered a want of knowl-
edge or forgetfulness ; for Louis the Fourteenth did
send an embassy to the King of Siam,* and the Abbe
Choisi, who was employed in it, published an account
of it in two volumes.
Next day, Thursday, April 30, I found him at home
by himself. Johnson. " Well, Sir, Ramsay gave us a
splendid dinner. I love Ramsay. You will not find a
man in whose conversation there is more instruction,
more information, and more elegance, than in Ram-
say's." BoswELL. " What 1 admire in Ramsay, is his
continuing to be so young." Johnson. " Why, yes,
Sir, it is to be admired. 1 value myself upon this, that
there is nothing of the old man in my conversation. I
am now sixty-eight, and I have no more of it than at
twenty-eight." Boswell. " But, Sir, would not you
wish to know old age I He who is never an old man,
does not know the whole of human life ;, for old age is
one of the divisions of it." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, what
talk is this ?" Boswell. " I mean, Sir, the Sphinx's
description of it ; — morning, nogn, and night. 1 would
' Mrs. Piozzi confidently mentions this as having passed in Scotland. " Anec-
dotes," p. 62.
■* [The Abbe de Choisi was sent by Louis XIV. on an embassy to the King of
Siam in 1683, with a view, it has been said, to conrert the King of that country
to Christianity. M.]
VOL. III. 7
60 THE LIFE OF
1778. know night, as well as morning and noon/^ Johk-
^^ SON. " What, Sir, would you know what it is to feel
6g. the evils of old age I Would you have the gout ? Would
you have decrepitude ?" — Seeing him heated, I would
not argue any farther ; but 1 was confident that I was
in the right. I would, in due time, be a Nestor, an
elder of the people ; and there should be some differ-
ence between the conversation of twenty-eight and six-
ty-eight.' A grave picture should not be gay. There
is a serene, solemn, placid old age. Johnson. " Mrs.
Thrale's mother said of me what flattered me much.
A clergyman was complaining of want of society in the
country where he lived ; and said, " They talk of
runis ;" (that is, young cows.)* ' Sir, (said Mrs. Sal-
usbury,) Mr. Johnson would learn to talk of runts :'
meaning that I was a man who would make the mosj;
of my situation, whatever it was." He added, " I
think myself a very polite man."
On Saturday, May 2, I dined with him at Sir Joshua
Reynolds's, where there was a very large company, and
a great deal of conversation ; but owing to some cir-
cumstance which I cannot now recollect, I have no
record of any part of it, except that there were several
people there by no means of the Johnsonian school ;
so that less attention was paid to him than usual, which
put him out of humour ; and upon some imaginary
offence from me, he attacked me with such rudeness,
that I was vexed and angry, because it gave those per-
sons an opportunity of enlarging upon his supposed
ferocity, and ill treatment of his best friends. I was
» [Johnson clearly meant, (what the authour has often elsewhere mentioned,)
that he had none of the listlessness of old age, that he had the same acti-uity and en-
ergy of mind as formerly ; not that a man of sixty-eight might dance in a publick
assembly with as much propriety as he could at twenty-eight. His conversation,
being the product of much various knowledge, great acuteness, and extraordinary'
vrit, was equally well suited to every period of life ; and as in his youth it proba-
bly did not exhibit any unbecoming levity, so certainly in his latter years it was
totally free from the garrulity and querulousness of old age. M.]
'■ [Such is the signification of this word in Scotland, and it should seem in Wales.
(See Skinner in -j.) But the heifers of Scotland and Wales, when brought to Eng-
land, being always smaller than those of this countiy, the word runt has acquired
a secondary sense, and generally signifies a heifer diminutive in size, small beyond
the ordinary growth of that animal ; and in this sense alone the word is acknowl-
idged by Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. ,51
SO much hurt, and had my pride so much roused, that 1778.
I kept away from him for a week ; and, perhaps, might ^^^
have kept away much longer, nay, gone to Scotland cp.
without seeing him again, had not we fortunately met
and been reconciled. To such unhappy chances are
human friendships liable.
On Friday, May 8, I dined with him at Mr. Lang-
ton's. I was reserved and silent, which I suppose he
perceived, and might recollect the cause. After din-
ner, when Mr. Langton was called out of the room,
and we were by ourselves, he drew his chair near to
mine, and said, in a tone of conciliating courtesy.
" Well, how have you done 1" Boswell. " Sir, you
have made me very uneasy by your behaviour to me
"when we were last at Sir Joshua Reynolds's. You
know, my dear Sir, no man has a greater respect and
affection for you, or would sooner go to the end of the
world to serve you. Now to treat me so — ." He in-
sisted that I had interrupted him, which 1 assured him
was not the case ; and proceeded — " But why treat
me so before people who neither love you nor me 1"
Johnson. " Well, I am sorry for it. I'll make it up
to you twenty different ways, as you please." Bos-
well. " I said to-day to Sir Joshua, when he observ-
ed that you tossed me sometimes — I don't care how
often, or how high he tosses me, when only friends are
present, for then I fall upon soft ground : but I do not
like falling on stones, which is the case when enemies
are present. — I think this a pretty good image, Sir."
Johnson. " Sir, it is one of the happiest I have ever
heard."
The truth is, there was no venom in the wounds
which he inflicted at any time, unless they were irritat-
ed by some malignant infusion by other hands. We
were instantly as cordial again as ever, and joined in
hearty laugh at some ludicrous but innocent peculiari-
ties of one of our friends. Boswell. " Do you think.
Sir, it is always culpable to laugh at a man to his face ?"
Johnson. " Why, Sir, that depends upon the man and
the thing. If it is a slight man, and a slight thing, you
may ; for you take nothing valuable from him."
52 THE LIFE OF
1778. He said, " I read yesterday Dr. Blair's sermon on
^^^ Devotion, from the text ^ Cornelius^ a devout manS His
C9. doctrine is the best limited, the best expressed : there
is the most warmth without fanaticism, the most ra-
tional transport. There is one part of it which 1 disap-
prove, and I'd have him correct it ; which is, that ' he
who does not feel joy in religion is far from the kingdom
of Heaven ! there are many good men whose fear of
God predominates over their love. It may discourage.
It was rashly said. A noble sermon it is indeed. I
wish Blair would come over to the Church of England.''
When Mr. Langton returned to us, the " flow of
talk" went on. An eminent authour being mentioned ;
Johnson. " He is not a pleasant man. His conver-
sation is neither instructive nor brilhant. He does not
talk as if impelled by any fulness of knowledge or viva-
city of imagination. His conversation is like that of
any other sensible man. He talks with no wish either
to inform or to hear, but only because he thinks it does
not become ■ to sit in a company and say
nothing."
Mr. Langton having repeated the anecdote of Addi-
son having distinguished between his powers in conver-
sation and in writing, by saying " 1 have only nine-
pence in my pocket ; but I can draw for a thousand
pounds ;"— Johnson. " He had not that retort ready,
Sir ; he had prepared it before-hand." Langton :
(turning to me.) " A fine surmise. Set a thief to
catch a thief."
Johnson called the East-Indians barbarians. Bos-
well. " You will except the Chinese, Sir ?" Johnson.
"No, Sir." BoswELL. " Have they not arts ?" John-
son. "They have pottery." Boswell. "What do
you say to the written characters of their language ?"
Johnson. " Sir, they have not an alphabet. They have
not been able to form what all other nations have form-
ed." BoswELL. "There is more learning in their lan-
guage than in any other, from the immense number of
their characters." Johnson. " It is only more difficult
from its rudeness ; as there is more labour in hewing
down a tree with a stone than with an axe."
DR. JOHNSON. 5S
He said, " I have been reading Lord Karnes's 1778.
' Sketches of the History of Man.' In treating of se- "^^^
verity of punishment, he mentions that of Madame La- 69. '
pouchin, in Russia, but he does not give it fairly ; for
I have looked at Chappe D' Auteroche^ from whom he
has taken it. He stops where it is said that the specta-
tors thought her innocent, and leaves out what follows ;
that she nevertheless was guilty. Now this is being as
culpable as one can conceive, to misrepresent fact in a
book, and for what motive I It is like one of those lies
which people tell, one cannot see why. The woman's
life was spared ; and no punishment was too great for
the favourite of an Empress, who had conspired to de-
throne her mistress." Boswell. "He was only giving
a picture of the lady in her sufferings." JoH^soN.
" Nay, don't endeavour to palliate this. Guilt is a prin-
cipal feature in the picture. Kames is puzzled with a
question that puzzled me when 1 was a very young man.
Why is it that the interest of money is lower, when
money is plentiful ; for five pounds has the same pro-
portion of value to a hundred pounds when money is
plentiful, as when it is scarce ? A lady explained it to
me. * It is (said she) because when money is plentiful
there are so many more who have money to lend, that
they bid down one another. Many have then a hun-
dred pounds ; and one says, — Take mine rather than
another's, and you shall have it at ^oux per cent" Bos-
well. " Does Lord Kames decide the question ?"
Johnson. " I think he leaves it as he found it." Bos-
well. " This must have been an extraordinary lady
who instructed you. Sir. May I ask who she was V*
Johnson. " Molly Aston,' Sir, the sister of those ladies
' Johnson had an extraordinary admiration of this lady, notwithstanding she was
a violent Whig. In answer to her high-flown speeches for Liberty, he addressed
to her the following Epigram, of which I presume to offer a translation :
" Liber ut esse velim, suasisti pulchra Maria,
" Ut maneam liber, pulchra Maria \'ale."
Adieu, Maria ! since you'd have me free ;
For, who beholds thy charms, a slave must be.
A correspondent of ' The Gentleman's Magazine,' who subscribes himself Scio-
Lus, to whom I am indebted for several excellent remarks, observes, " The turn of
Dr. Johnson's lines to Miss Aston, whose Whig principles he had been combating,
appears to me, to be taken from an ingenious epigram m the Mcnagianal [VoL III.
44 . THE LIFE OF
1778. with whom you dined at Lichfiehl. 1 shall be ai
^t^t home to-morrow." Bos well. " Then let us dine by
eg. ourselves at the Mitre, to keep up the old custom,
* the custom of the manor,^ custom of the Mitre.''
Johnson. " vSir, so it shall be."
On Saturday, May 9, we fulfilled our purpose of
dining by ourselves at the Mitre, according to old cus-
tom. There was, on these occasions, a little circum-
stance of kind attention to Mrs. Williams, which must
not be omitted. Before coming out, and leaving her to
dine alone, he gave her her choice of a chicken, a sweet-
bread, or any other little nice thing, which was carefully
sent to her from the tavern, ready-drest.
Our conversation to-day, I know not how, turned, I
think for the only time at any length, during our long
acquaintance, upon the sensual intercourse between the
sexes, the delight of which he ascribed chiefly to im-
agination. " Were it not for imagination, Sir, (said he,)
a man would be as happy in the arms of a Chamber-
maid as of a Duchess. But such is the adventitious
charm of fancy, that we find men who have violated
the best principles of society, and ruined their fame and
their fortune, that they might possess a woman of rank."
It would not be proper to record the particulars of such
a conversation in moments of unreserved frankness,
when nobody was present on whom it could have any
hurtful effect. That subject, when philosophically
treated, may surely employ the mind in a curious dis-
cussion, and as innocently, as anatomy ; provided that
those who do treat it, keep clear of inflammatory in-
centives.
" From grave to gay, from lively to severe," — we
were soon engaged in very different speculation ; hum-
bly and reverently considering and wondering at the
p. 376, edit. 1716.] on a young lady who appeared at a masquerade, fjaiille en Jes-
uiie, during the fierce contentions of the followers of Molinos and Jansenius con-
cerning free-will :
" On s'etonne ici qnc Caliste
Ait pris I'habit de Moliniste.
Puisque cette jeune beaute
Ote a chacun sa liberie
N'est cc pas unc Jansenifte }"
DR. JOHNSON. S6
universal mystery of all things, as our imperfect facul- 1778.
ties can now judge of them. " There are (said he) in- ^J^
numerable questions to which the inquisitive mind can 69.*
in this state receive no answer : Why do you and I ex-
ist ? Why was this world created ? Since it was to be
created, why was it not created sooner ?"
On Sunday, May 10, I supped with him at Mr.
Hoole's with Sir Joshua Reynolds. I have neglected
the memorial of this evening, so as to remember no more
of it than two particulars : one that he strenuously op-
posed an argument by Sir Joshua, that virtue was pref-
erable to vice, considering this life only ; and that a
man would be virtuous were it only to preserve his
character : and that he expressed much wonder at the
curious formation of the bat, a mouse with wings ; say-
ing, that it was almost as strange a thing in physiology,
as if the fabulous dragon could be seen.
On Tuesday, May 12, I waited on the Earl of March-
mont, to know if his Lordship would favour Dr. John-
son with information concerning Pope, whose Life he
was about to write. Johnson had not flattered himself
with the hopes of receiving any civility from this noble-
man ; for he said to me, when I mentioned Lord March-
mont as one who could tell him a great deal about
Pope, — " Sir, he will tell ))ie nothing.^^ 1 had the hon-
our of being known to his Lordship, and applied to him
of myself, without being commissioned by Johnson.
His Lordship behaved in the most polite and obliging
manner, promised to tell all he recollected about Pope,
and was so very courteous as to say, " Tell Dr. John-
son, I have a great respect for him, and am ready to
shew it in any way I can. I am to be in the city to-
morrow, and will call at his house as I return." His
Lordship however asked, " Will he write the Lives of
the Poets impartially ? He was the first that brought
Whig and Tory into a Dictionary. And what do you
think of his definition of Excise ] Do you know the his-
tory of his aversion to the word transpire /" Then
taking down the folio Dictionary, he shewed it with
this censure on its secondary sense : " To escape from
secrecy to notice ; a sense lately innovated from France,
36 THE LIFE OF
1778. without necessity." The truth was, Loid Bohngbroke,
J^^ who left the Jacobites, first used it ; therefore, it was
69. ' to be condemned. He should have shewn what word
would do for it, if it was unnecessary." I afterwards put
the question to Johnson : • " Why, Sir, (said he,) get
abroad." Boswell. " That, Sir, is using two words."
Johnson. " Sir, there is no end of this. You may as
well insist to have a word for old age." Boswell.
" Well, Sir, Senectus" Johnson. " Nay, Sir, to insist
always that there should be one word to express a thing
in English, because there is one in another language, is
to change the language."
I availed myself of this opportunity to hear from his
Lordship many particulars both of Pope and Lord Bol-
ingbroke, which 1 have in writing.
1 proposed to Lord Marchmont, that he should revise
Johnson's Life of Pope : " So (said his Lordship) you
would put me in a dangerous situation. You know he
knocked down Osborne, the bookseller."
Elated with the success of my spontaneous exertion
to procure material and respectable aid to Johnson for
his very favourite work, " the Lives of the Poets," I
hastened down to Mr. Thrale^s at Streatham, where he
now was, that 1 might insure his being at home next
day ; and after dinner, when 1 thought he would re-
ceive the good news in the best humour, 1 announced
it eagerly : " 1 have been at work for you to-day. Sir.
I have been with Lord Marchmont. He bade me tell
you, he has a great respect for you, and will call on
you to-morrow, at one o'clock, and communicate all he
knows about Pope." — Here I paused, in full expecta-
tion that he would be pleased with this intelligence,
would praise my active merit, and would be alert to
embrace such an offer from a nobleman. But whether
I had shewn an over-exultation, which provoked his
spleen ; or whether he was seized with a suspicion that
I had obtruded him on Lord Marchmont, and humbled
him too much ; or whether there was any thing more
than an unlucky fit of ill-humour, I know not ; but to
my surprise, the result was, — Johnson. " I shall not
be in town to-morrow. 1 don't care to know about
DR. JOHNSOIS'. <57
Pope." Mrs. Thrale : (surprized as I was, and a **78.
little angry.) " I suppose, Sir, Mr. Boswell thought, ^^
that as you are to write Pope's Life, you would wish to 69.
know about him." Johnson. " Wish ! why yes. If
it rained knowledge, Pd hold out my hand ; but I
would not give myself the trouble to go in quest of it."
There was no arguing with him at the moment. Some
time afterwards he said, " Lord Marchmont will call on
me, and then I shall call on Lord Marchmont." Mrs.
Thrale was uneasy at his unaccountable caprice ; and
told me, that if 1 did not take care to bring about a
meeting between Lord Marchmont and him it would
never take place, which would be a great pity. I sent
a card to his Lordship, to be left at Johnson's house,
acquainting him, that Dr. Johnson could not be in
town next day, but would do himself the honour of
waiting on him at another time. — 1 give this account
fairly, as a specimen of that unhappy temper with which
this great and good man had occasionally to struggle,
from something morbid in his constitution. Let the
most censorious of my readers suppose himself to have
a violent fit of the tooth-ach, or to have received a se-
vere stroke on the shin-bone, and when in such a stale
to be asked a question ; and if he has any candour he
will not be surprized at the answers which Johnson
sometimes gave in moments of irritation, which, let me
assure them, is exquisitely painful. But it must not
be erroneously supposed that he was, in the smallest
degree, careless concerning any work which he under-
took, or that he was generally thus peevish. It will be
seen that in the following year he had a very agreeable
interview with Lord Marchmont, at his Lordship's
house ; and this very afternoon he soon forgot any fret-
fulness, and fell into conversation as usual.
1 mentioned a reflection having been thrown out
against four Peers for having presumed to rise in op-
position to the opinion of the twelve Judges, in a cause
in the House of Lords, as if that were indecent.
Johnson. " Sir, there is no ground for censure. The
Peers are Judges themselves : and supposing them
really to be of a different opinion, they miaht from duty
VOL. TTT. 8
•58 IHE LIFE OF
1778. be in opposition to the Judges, who were there only to
^J^ be consulted."
69. In this observation I fully concurred with him ; for
unquestionably, all the Peers are vested with the high-
est judicial powers ; and when they are confident that
they understand a cause, are not obliged, nay ought
not to acquiesce in the opinion of the ordinary Law
Judges, or even in that of those who from their studies
and experience are called the Law Lords. I consider
the Peers in general as I do a Jury, who ought to listen
with respectful attention to the sages of the law ; but,
if after hearing them, they have a firm opinion of their
own, are bound, as honest men, to decide accordingly.
Nor is it so difficult for them to understand even law
questions, as is generally thought ; provided they will
bestow sufficient attention upon them. This observa-
tion was made by my honoured relation to the late
l^ord Cathcart, who had spent his life in camps and
courts ; yet he assured me, that he could form a clear
opinion upon most of the causes that came before the
House of Lords, " as they were so well enucleated in
the Cases."
Mrs. Thrale told us, that a curious clergyman of our
acquaintance had discovered a licentious stanza, which
Pope had originally in his " Universal Prayer," before
the stanza,
" What conscience dictates to be done,
" Or warns us not to do," &c.
It was this :
" Can sins of moment claim the rod,
" Of everlasting fires ?
" And that offend great Nature's God,
" Which Nature's self inspires ?"
and that Dr. Johnson observed, " it had been borrow-
ed from Gnarim" There are, indeed, in Pastor
Fic/o, many such flimsy superficial reasonings, as that
in the last two lines of this stanza.
BoswELL. " In that stanza of Pope's, ' rod ofjires^
is certainly a bad metaphor." Mrs. Thrale. " And
DR. JOHNSON. 6[)
' sins of moment^ is a faulty expression ; for its true im- ^778.
port is momentous^ which cannot be intended." John-^^^
SON. " It must have been written ' oi moment s' Of Cg.
moment^ is momentous ; of moments, momentarij. I
warrant you however, Pope wrote this stanza, and
some friend struck it out. Boileau wrote some such
thing, and Arnaud struck it out, saying, ' Voiis gagne-
rez deux ou trois impies, et perdrez je ne sais combien
des honnettes gens.' These fellows want to say a dar-
ing thing, and don't know how to go about it. Mere
poets know no more of fundamental principles than — ."
Here he was interrupted somehow. Mrs. Thrale men-
tioned Dryden. Johnson. " He puzzled himself
about predestination. — How foolish was it in Pope to
give all his friendship to Lords, who thought they hon-
oured him by being with him ; and to choose such
Lords as Burlington, and Cobham, and Bolingbroke ?
Bathurst was negative, a pleasing man ; and I have
heard no ill of Marchmont ; — and then always saying,
' I do not value you for being a Lord ;' which was a
sure proof that he did. I never say, I do not value
Boswell more for being born to an estate, because 1 do
not care." Boswell. " Nor for being a Scotchman I"
Johnson. " Nay, Sir, I do value you more for being a
Scotchman. You are a Scotchman without the faults
of Scotchmen. You would not have been so valuable
as you are had you not been a Scotchman."
Talking of divorces, 1 asked if Othello's doctrine
was not plausible ;
" He that is robb'd, not w^anting what is stolen,
" Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all."
Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale joined against this.
Johnson. " x\sk any man if he'd wish not to know of
such an injury." Boswell. " Would you tell your
friend to make him unhappy !" Johnson. "Perhaps,
Sir, I should not ; but that would be from prudence
on my own account. A man would tell his father."
Boswell. " Yes ; because he would not have spu-
rious children to get any share of the family inherit-
ance." Mrs. Thrale. *' Or he would tell his brother."
60 THE LIFE OF
1778. BosAVELL. " Certainly his elder brother." Johnson.
^J^ " You would tell your friend of a woman's infamy, to
69. prevent his marrying a whore : there is the same rea-
son to tell him of his wife's infidelity, when he is mar-
ried, to prevent the consequences of imposition. It is
a breach of confidence not to tell a friend." Boswell.
" Would you tell Mr. ?" (naming a gentleman
who assuredly was not in the least danger of such a
miserable disgrace, though married to a fine woman.)
Johnson. " No, Sir ; because it would do no good :
he is so sluggish, he'd never go to parliament and get
through a divorce."
He said of one of our friends, " He is ruining him-
self without pleasure. A man who loses at play, or
who runs out his fortune at court, makes his estate
less, in hopes of making it bigger : (I am sure of this
word, which was often used by him :) but it is a sad
thing to pass through the quagmire of parsimony, to
the gulph of ruin. To pass over the flowery path of
extravagance, is very well."
Amongst the numerous prints pasted on the walls
of the dining-room at Streatham, was Hogarth's ' Mod-
ern Midnight Conversation.' I asked him what he
knew of Parson Ford, who makes a conspicuous figure
in the riotous group. Johnson. " Sir, he was my ac-
quaintance and relation, my mother's nephew. He
had purchased a living in the country, but not simoni-
acally. 1 never saw him but in the country. I have
been told he was a man of great parts ; very profligate,
but I never heard he was impious." Boswell. " Was
there not a story of his ghost having appeared I" John-
son. " Sir, it was believed. A waiter at the Hum-
mums, in which house Ford died, had been absent for
some time, and returned, not knowing that Ford was
dead. Going down to tlie cellar, according to the
story, he met him ; going down again, he met him a
second time. When he came up, he asked some of
the people of the house what Ford could be doing
there. They told him Ford was dead. The waiter
took a fever, in which he lay for some time. When
he recovered he said he had a messasfe to deliver to
DR. JOHNSON. 61
some women from Ford ; but he was not to tell what, 1778.
or to whom. He walked out ; he was followed ; but JJ^
somewhere about St. PauPs they lost him. He came 69.
back, and said he had delivered the message, atid the
women exclaimed, ' Then we are all undone V Dr.
Pellet, who was not a credulous man, enquired into
the truth of this story, and he said, the evidence was
irresistible. My wife went to the Hummums ; (it is a
place where people get themselves cupped.) 1 believe
she went with intention to hear about this story of
Ford. At first they were unwilling to tell her ; but,
after they had talked to her, she came away satisfied
that it was true. To be sure, the man had a fever ;
and this vision may have been the beginning of it.
But if the message to the women, and their behaviour
upon it were true as related, there was something su-
pernatural. That rests upon his word ; and there it
remains."
After Mrs. Thrale was gone to bed, Johnson and I
sat up late. We resumed Sir Joshua Reynolds's argu-
ment on the preceding Sunday, that a man would be
virtuous, though he had no other motive than to pre-
serve his character. Johnson. " Sir, it is not true :
for, as to this world, vice does not hurt a man's char-
acter." BoswELL. " Yes, Sir, debauching a friend's
wife will." Johnson. " No, Sir. Who thinks the
worse of for it." Boswell. " Lord was
not his friend." Johnson. " That is only a circum-
stance, Sir ; a slight distinction. He could not get
into the house but by Lord . A man is chosen
Knight of the shire, not the less for having debauched
ladies." Boswell. " What, Sir, if he debauched the
ladies of gentlemen in the county, will not there be a
general resentment against him ?" Johnson. " No,
Sir. He will lose those particular gentlemen ; but the
rest will not trouble their heads about it." (warmly.)
Boswell. " Well, Sir, I cannot think so." Johnson.
" Nay, Sir, there is no talking with a man who will
dispute what every body knows, (angrily.) Don't you
know this ?" Boswell. " No, Sir ; and I wish to
think better of your country than you represent it. I
69 THE LIFE OF
1778. knew in Scotland a gentleman obliged to leave it for
'^^ debauching a lady ; and in one of our counties an Earl's
09. * brother lost his election, because he had debauched
the lady of another Earl in that county, and destroyed
the peace of a noble family."
Still he would not yield. He proceeded : " Will
you not allow, Sir, that vice does not hurt a man's char-
acter so as to obstruct his prosperity in life, when you
know that was loaded with wealth and honours ;
a man who had acquired his fortune by such crimes,
that his consciousness of them impelled him to cut his
own throat." }3oswell. " You will recollect, Sir,
that Dr. Robertson said, he cut his throat because he
was weary of still life -, little things not being sufficient
to move his great mind." Johnson, (very angry.)
" Nay, Sir, what stuff is this ? You had no more this
opinion after Robertson said it, than before. 1 know
nothing more offensive than repeating what one knows
to be foolish things, by way of continuing a dispute, to
see what a man will answer, — to make him your butt !"
(angrier still.) Boswell. " My dear Sir, 1 had no
such intention as you seem to suspect : 1 had not in-
deed. Might not this nobleman have felt every thing
' weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable,' as Hamlet says I"
Johnson. " Nay, if you are to bring in gabble, Plltalk
no more. 1 will not, upon my honour." — My readfers
will decide upon this dispute.
Next morning I stated to Mrs. Thrale at breakfast,
before he came down, the dispute of last night as to
the influence of character upon success in life. She
said he was certainly wrong ; and told me, that a Bar-
onet lost an election in VYales, because he had de-
bauched the sister of a gentleman in the county, whom
he made one of his daughters invite as her companion
at his seat in the country, when his lady and his other
children were in London. But she would not encoun-
ter Johnson upon the subject.
1 staid all this day with him at Streatham. He talk-
ed a great deal in very good humour.
Looking at Messrs. Dilly's splendid edition of Lord
Chesterfield's miscellaneous works, he laughed, and
DR. JOHNSON. 63
said, " Here are now two speeches, ascribed to him, ^778.
both of which were written by me : and the best of it ^J^
is, they have found oiit that one is hke Demosthenes, 69.
and the other like Cicero."
He censured Lord Karnes's " Sketches of the History
of Man," for misrepresenting Clarendon's account of
the appearance of Sir George Villiers's ghost, as if Clar-
endon were weakly credulous ; when the truth is, that
Clarendon only says, that the story was upon a better
foundation of credit, than usually such discourses are
founded upon ; nay, speaks thus of the person who
was reported to have seen the vision, " the poor man,
if he had been at all waking ;" which Lord Kames has
omitted. He added, " in this book it is maintained
that virtue is natural to man, and, that if we would but
consult our own hearts, we should be virtuous. Now
after consulting our own hearts all we can, and with all
the helps we have, we find how few of us are virtuous.
This is saying a thing which all mankind know not to
be true." Boswell. " Is not modesty natural ]"
Johnson. "I cannot say. Sir, as we find no people
quite in a state of nature ; but 1 think, the more they
are taught, the more modest they are. The French are
a gross, ill-bred, untaught people ; a lady there will
spit on the floor and rub it with her foot. What I
gained by being in France was, learning to be better
satisfied with my own country. Time may be employ-
ed to more advantage from nineteen to twenty-four, al-
most in any way than in travelling ; when you set
travelling against mere negation, against doing nothing,
it is better to be sure ; but how much more would
a young man improve were he to study during those
years. Indeed, if a young man is wild, and must run
after women and bad company, it is better this should
be done abroad, as, on his return, he can break off such
connections, and begin at home a new man, with a
character to form, and acquaintances to make. How
little does travelling supply to the conversation of any
man who has travelled ; how little to Beauclerk ?" Bos-
w^ELL. "What say you to Lord ?" Johnson.
" I never but once heard him talk of what he had seen,
64. THE LIFE OF
1778. and that was of a large serpent in one of the Pyramidis
^^J^ of Egypt." BoswELL. " Well, 1 happened to hear him
69. tell the same thing, which made me mention him."
1 talked of a country life. — Johnson. " Were 1 to
live in the country, I would not devote myself to the
acquisition of popularity ; 1 would live in a much bet-
ter way, much more happily ; 1 would have my time at
my own command." Boswell. " But, Sir, is it not a
sad thing to beat a distance from all our literary friends?"
Johnson. "Sir, you will by and by have enough of this
conversation, which now delights you so much."
As he was a zealous friend of subordination, he was
at all times watchful to repress the vulgar cant against
the manners of the great ; " High people, Sir, (said he,)
are the best ; take a hundred ladies of quality, you'll
find them better wives, better mothers, more willing to
sacrifice their own pleasure to their children, than a
hundred other women. Tradeswomen (I mean the
wives of tradesmen) in the city, who are worth from
ten to fifteen thousand pounds, are the worst creatures
upon the earth, grossly ignorant, and thinking vicious-
ness fashionable. Farmers, I think, are often worthless
fellows. Few Lords will cheat ; and, if they do, they'll
be ashamed of it : farmers cheat and are not ashamed
of it : they have all the sensual vices too of the nobility,
with cheating into the bargain. There is as much for-
nication and adultery amongst farmers as amongst noble-
men." BoswELL. " The notion of the world. Sir, how-
ever, is, that the morals of women of quality are worse
than those in lower stations." Johnson. "Yes, Sir, the
licentiousness of one woman of quality makes more noise
than that of a number of women in lower stations ; then,
Sir, you are to consider the malignity of women in the
city against women of quality, which will make them
believe any thing of them, such as that they call their
coachmen to bed. No, Sir, so far as I have observed,
the higher in rank, the richer ladies are, they are the
better instructed and the more virtuous."
This year the Reverend Mr. Home published his
" Letter to Mr. Dunning, on the English Particle ;"
Johnson read it, and though not treated in it with suf-
DR. JOHNSON. 65
ficient respect, he had candour enough to say to Mr. 1778.
Seward, " Were 1 to make a new edition of my Diction- ^J^
ary, I would adopt several* of Mr. Home's etymologies; gg.
I hope they did not put the dog in the pillory for his
libel ; he has too much literature for that."
On Saturday, May 16, I dined with him at Mr.
Beauclerk's with Mr. Langton, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Hig-
gins, and some others. I regret very feelingly every
instance of my remissness in recording his memorabilia ;
I am afraid it is the condition of humanity (as Mr.
Windham, of Norfolk, once observed to me, after hav-
ing made an admirable speech in the House of Com-
mons, which was highly applauded, but which he af-
terwards perceived might have been better :) " that we
are more uneasy from thinking of our wants, than hap-
py in thinking of our acquisitions." This is an unrea-
sonable mode of disturbing our tranquillity, and should
be corrected ; let me then comfort myself with the
large treasure of Johnson's conversation which I have
preserved for my own enjoyment and that of the world,
and let me exhibit what I have upon each occasion,
whether more or less, whether a bulse, or only a few
sparks of a diamond.
He said, " Dr. Mead lived more in the broad sun-
shine of life than almost any man."
The disaster of General Burgoyne's army was then
the common topick of conversation. It was asked why
piling their arms was insisted upon as a matter of such
consequence, when it seemed to be a circumstance so
inconsiderable in itself. Johnson. " Why, Sir, a French
authour says, '' II y a beaucoup de puerilites dans la
guerre/ All distinctions are trifles, because great things
can seldom occur, and those distinctions are settled by
custom. A savage would as willingly have his meat
sent to him in the kitchen, as eat it at the table here :
as men become civilized, various modes of denotin?:
honourable preference are invented."
'o
' In Mr. Home Tooke's enlargement of that " Letter," which he has since pub-
1 ished with the title of " E^ecc TTTopoivrx ; or, the Diversions of Purley ;" he men-
tions this compliment, as if Dr. Johnson instead of several of his etymologies had
said all. His recollection having thus magnified it, shews how ambitious he was
of the approbation of so great a man.
VOL. III. 0
66 THE LIFE OF
177B. He this day made the observations upon the similar-
^J^ ity between " Rasselas" and " Candide :" which 1 have
6g. inserted in its proper place, when considering his adnnir-
able philosophical Romance. He said " Candide" he
thought had more power in it than any thing that Vol-
taire had written.
He said, " The lyrical part of Horace never can be
perfectly translated ; so much of the excellence is in
the numbers and the expression. Francis has done
it the best ; PU take his, five out of six, against them all."
On Sunday, May 17, I presented to him Mr. Ful-
larton, of Fullarton, who has since distinguished himself
so much in India, to whom he naturally talked of trav-
els, as Mr. Brydone accompanied him in his tour to
Sicily and Malta. He said, " The information which
we have from modern travellers is much more authen-
tick than what we had from ancient travellers ; ancient
travellers guessed ; modern travellers measure. The
Swiss admit that there is but one errour in Stanyan. If
Brydone were more attentive to his Bible, he would be
a good traveller."
He said, " Lord Chatham was a Dictator ; he possess-
ed the power of putting the State in motion ; now
there is no power, all order is relaxed." Boswell. " Is
there no hope of a change to the better ?" Johnson.
" Why, yes. Sir, when we are weary of this relaxation.
So the City of London will appoint its Mayors again by
seniority." Boswell. " But is not that taking a mere
chance for having a good or a bad Mayor?" Johnson.
" Yes, Sir ; but the evil of competition is greater than
that of the worst Mayor that can come ; besides, there
is no more reason to suppose that the choice of a rabble
will be right, than that chance will be right."
On Tuesday, May 19, I was to set out for Scotland
in the evening. He was engaged to dine with me at
Mr. Dilly's ; 1 waited upon him to remind him of his
appointment and attend him thither ; he gave me some
salutary counsel, and recommended vigorous resolution
against any deviation from moral duty. Boswell.
" But you would not have me to bind myself by a sol-
emn obligation ?" Johnson, (much agitated) " What !
I
DR. JOHNSON. 67
a vow — O, no, Sir, a vow is a horrible thing, it is a ^778.
snare for sin. The man who cannot go to heaven with-
out a vow — may go — '^ Here, standing erect, in the
middle of his hbrary, and rolling grand, his pause was
truly a curious compound of the solemn and the ludi-
crous ; he half-whistled in his usual way, when pleas-
ant, and he paused, as if checked by religious awe. —
Methought he would have added — to Hell — but was
restrained. I humoured the dilemma. " What ! Sir,
(said I,) ' In ccelum jusseris ib'U P alluding to his imi-
tation of it,
" And bid him go to Hell, to Hell he goes."
I had mentioned to him a slight fault in his noble
" Imitation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal," a too near
recurrence of the verb spread^ in his description of the
young Enthusiast at College :
" Through all his veins the fever of renown,
" Spreads from the strong contagion of the gown ;
" O^er Bodley's dome his future labours spread^
" And Bacon's mansion trembles o'er his head."
He had desired me to change spreads to biiriis, but
for perfect authenticity, I now had it done with his own
hand.' I thought this alteration not only cured the
fault, but was more poetical, as it might carry an allu-
sion to the shirt by which Hercules was inflamed.
We had a quiet comfortable meeting at Mr. Dilly's ;
nobody there but ourselves. Mr. Dilly mentioned
somebody having wished that Milton's " Tractate on
Education" should be printed along with his Poems in
the edition of the English Poets then going on. John-
son. " It would be breaking in upon the plan ; but
would be of no great consequence. So far as it would
be any thing, it would be wrong. Education in England
has been in danger of being hurt by two of its greatest
men, Milton and Locke. Milton's plan is impractica-
ble, and I suppose has never been tried. Locke's, I
"^ The slip of paper on which he made the correction, Is deposited by me in the
noble hbrary to which it relates, and to which I have presented other pieces of his
hand-writing.
68 THE LIFE OF
1778, fancy, has been tried often enough, but is very imper-
^^^ feet ; it gives too much to one side, and too little to
6p. the other ; it gives too little to literature — I shall do
what 1 can for Dr. Watts ; but my materials are very
scanty. His poems are by no means his best works ;
I cannot praise his poetry itself highly ; but 1 can
praise its design."
My illustrious friend and I parted with assurances of
affectionate regard.
1 wrote to him on the 25th of May, from Thorpe in
Yorkshire, one of the seats of Mr. Bosville, and gave
him an account of my having passed a day at Lincoln,
unexpectedly, and therefore without having any letters
of introduction, but that I had been honoured with ci-
vilities from the Rev. Mr. Simpson, an acquaintance of
his, and Captain Broadley, of the Lincolnshire Militia;
but more particularly from the Rev. Dr. Gordon, the
Chancellor, who first received me with great poHteness
as a stranger, and, when I informed him who 1 was, en-
tertained me at his house with the most flattering at-
tention ; I also expressed the pleasure with which I
had found that our worthy friend, Langton, was highly
esteemed in his own county town.
" TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" Edinburgh, June 18, 177^.
" MY DEAR SIR,
%%%%.%
" Since my return to Scotland, I have been again
at Lanark, and have had more conversation with Thom-
son's sister. It is strange that Murdoch, who was his
intimate friend, should have mistaken his mother's
maiden name, which he says was Hume, whereas
Hume was the name of his grandmother by the mother's
side. His mother's name was Beatrix Trotter, * a daugh-
ter of Mr. Trotter, of Fogo, a small proprietor of land.
Thomson had one brother, whom he had with him in
England as his amanuensis ; but he was seized with a
' Dr. Johnson was by no means attentive to minute accuracy in his " Lives of the
Poets ;" for notwithstanding my having detected tliis mistake, he has continued it.
DR. JOHNSON. 69
consumption, and having returned to Scotland, to try '778.
what his native air would do for him, died young. He ^J^
had three sisters, one married to Mr. Bell, minister of 69.
the parish of Strathaven ; one to Mr. Craig, father of
the ingenious architect, who gave the plan of the New
Town of Edinburgh ; and one to Mr. Thomson, master
of the grammar-school at Lanark. He was of a humane
and benevolent disposition ; not only sent valuable
presents to his sisters, but a yearly allowance in money,
and was always wishing to have it in his power to do
them more good. Lord Lyttelton's observation, that
* he loathed much to write,^ was very true. His let-
ters to his sister, Mrs. Thomson, were not frequent,
and in one of them he says, ' All my friends who know
me, know how backward I am to write letters ; and
never impute the negligence of my hand to the cold-
ness of my heart.' 1 send you a copy of the last let*
ter which she had from him ; she never heard that he
had any intention of going into holy orders. From this
late interview with his sister, I think much more fa-
vourably of him, as I hope you will. I am eager to
see more of your Prefaces to the Poets : 1 solace myself
with the few proof-sheets which 1 have.
" I send another parcel of Lord Hailes's ' Annals,*
which you will please to return to me as soon as you
conveniently can. He says, ' he wishes you would
cut a little deeper ;' but he may be proud that there is
so little occasion to use the critical knife. I ever am,
my dear Sir,
" Your faithful and affectiojiate,
" humble servant,
" James Boswell.**
Mr. Langton has been pleased, at my request, to fa-
vour me with some particulars of Dr. Johnson's visit
to Warley-camp, where this gentleman was at the time
stationed as a Captain in the Lincolnshire militia, I
shall give them in his own words in a letter to me.
"It was in the summer of the year 1778, that he
complied with my invitation to come down to the
Camp at Warley, and he staid with me about a week ;
70 THE LIFE OF
1778. the scene appeared, notwithstanding a great degree of
2J^ ill health that he seemed to labour under, to interest
69, * and amuse him, as agreeing with the disposition that I
beheve you know he constantly manifested towards
enquiring into subjects of the military kind. He sate,
with a patient degree of attention, to observe the pro-
ceedings of a regimental court-martial, that happened
to be called, in the time of his stay with us ; and one
night, as late as at eleven o'clock, he accompanied the
Major of the regiment in going what are styled the
Rounds, where he might observe the forms of visiting
the guards, for the seeing that they and their sentries
are ready in their duty on their several posts. He
took occasion to converse at times on military topicks,
one in particular, that 1 see the mention of, in your
* Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides,^ which lies open
before me,'' as to gun-powder; which be spoke of to
the same effect, in part, that you relate.
" On one occasion, when the regiment were going
through their exercise,, he went quite close to the men
at one of the extremities of it, and watched all their
practices attentively ; and, when he came away, his
remark was, * The men indeed do load their muskets
and fire with wonderful celerity.' He was likewise
particular in requiring to know what was the weight of
the musket balls in use, and within what (Hstance they
might be expected to take effect when fired off.
" In walking among the tents, and observing the
difference between those of the officers and private
men, he said, that the superiority of accommodation of
the better conditions of life, to that of the inferiour
ones, was never exhibited to him in so distinct a view.
The civilities paid to him in the camp were, from the
gentlemen of the Lincolnshire regiment, one of the
officers of which accommodated him with a tent in
which he slept ; and from General Hall, who very
courteously invited him to dine with him, where he
appeared to be very well pleased with his entertain-
ment, and the civilities he received on the part of the
' Third Edition, p. in.
DR. JOHNSON. 71
General ;^ the attention likewise of the General's aid- i778.
de-camp, Captain Smith, seemed to be very welcome ^EtaT.
to him, as appeared by their engaging in a great deal 69.*
of discourse together. The gentlemen of the East
York regiment likewise on being informed of his com-
ing, solicited his company at dinner, but by that time
he had fixed his departure, so that he could not com-
ply with the invitation."
" to james boswell, esq.
"sir,
" I HAVE received two letters from you, of which
the second complains of the neglect shown to the first.
You must not tie your friends to such punctual corres-
pondence. You have all possible assurances of my af-
fection and esteem ; and there ought to be no need of
reiterated professions. When it may happen that I
can give you either counsel or comfort, I hope it will
never happen to me that I should neglect you ; but
you must not think me criminal or cold, if I say noth-
ing when I have nothing to say.
" You are now happy enough. Mrs. Boswell is re-
covered ; and I congratulate you upon the probability
of her long life. If general approbation will add any
thing to your enjoyment, I can tell you that I have
heard you mentioned as a man whom ezerij body likes,
I think life has little more to give.
" has gone to his regiment. He has laid
down his coach, and talks of making more contractions
of his expence : how he will succeed, 1 know not. It
is difficult to reform a household gradually ; it may be
better done by a system totally new. I am afraid he
has always something to hide. When we pressed him
to go to , he objected the necessity of attending
his navigation ; yet he could talk of going to Aber-
deen, a place not much nearer his navigation. I be-
lieve he cannot bear the thought of living at in
a state of diminution ; and of appearing among the
gentlemen of the neighbourhood shot^n of his beams.
^ When I one day at Court expressed to General Hall my sense of the hoaour
h$ had done my friend, he politely answered, " Sir, I did myiel/hooour"
72 THE LIFE OF
1778. This is natural, but it is cowardly. Wliat I told hira
2J^ of the increasing expence of a growing family, seems to
69. have struck him. He certainly had gone on with very
confused views, and we have, I think, shown him that
he is wrong ; though, with the common deficience of
advisers, we have not shown him how to do right.
" I wish you would a little correct or restrain your
imagination, and imagine that happiness, such as life
admits, may be had at other places as well as London.
Without asserting Stoicism,* it may be said, that it is
our business to exempt ourselves as much as we can
from the power of external things. There is but one
solid basis of happiness : and that is, the reasonable
hope of a happy futurity. This may be had every
where.
" I do not blame your preference of London to other
places, for it is really to be preferred, if the choice is
free ; but few have the choice of their place, or their
manner of life ; and mere pleasure ought not to be the
prime motive of action.
" Mrs. Thrale, poor thmg, has a daughter. Mr.
Thrale dislikes the times, like the rest of us. Mrs.
Williams is sick ; Mrs. Desmoulins is poor. I have
miserable nights. Nobody is well but Mr. Levet.
" I am, dear Sir,
" Your most, &c.
*' London, July 3, 1778. " Sam. Johnson."
In the course of this year there was a difference be-
tween him and his friend Mr. Strahan ; the particulars
of which it is unnecessary to relate. Their reconcilia-
tion was communicated to me in a letter from Mr.
Strahan in the following words :
" The notes I shewed you that past between him
and me were dated in March last. The matter lay
dormant till July 27, when he wrote to me as follows :
" [I suspect that tliis is a misprint, and that Johnson wrote " without affecting
stoicism ;" — but the original letter being burned in a mass of papers in Scotland,
I have not been able to ascertain whether my conjecture is well founded or not.
The expression in the text, however, may be justified. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 73'
1778.
" to WILLIAM STRAHAN, ESQ.
c iEtat.
^^«' 69.
' It would be very foolish for us to continue
strangers any longer. You can never by persistency
make wrong right. If I resented too acrimoniously, I
resented only to yourself. Nobody ever saw or heard
what [ wrote. You saw that my anger was over, for
in a day or two 1 came to your house. I have given
you a longer time ; and I hope you have made so good
use of it, as to be no longer on evil terms with, Sir,
' Your, &c.
' Sam. Johnson.*
" On this I called upon him : and he has since dined
with me."
After this time, the same friendship as formerly con-
tinued between Dr. Johnson and Mr. Strahan. My
friend mentioned to me a little circumstance of his at-
tention, which, though we may smile at it, must be
allowed to have its foundation in a nice and true
knowledge of human life. " VVhen I write to Scot-
land, (said he,) I employ Strahan to frank my letters,
that he may have the consequence of appearing a Par-
liament-man among his countrymen."
" TO CAPTAIN LANGTON,^ WARLEY-CAMP.
" DEAR SIR,
" When 1 recollect how long ago I was received
with so much kindness at Warley Common, I am
ashamed that I have not made some enquiries after my
friends.
"Fray how many sheep-stealers did you convict ?
and how did you punish them ? When are you to be
cantoned in better habitations ? The air grows cold,
and the ground damp. Longer stay in the camp can-
*■ Dr. Johnson here addresses his worthy friend, Bennet Langton, Esq. by his
title as Captain of the Lincolnshire militia, in which he has since been most deserv-
edly raised to the rank of Major.
VO!-. III. 10
7-i THE LIFE OF
1778. not be without much danger to the health of the com-
•^^^mon men, if even the officers can escape.
69. " You see that Dr. Percy is now Dean of Carlisle ;
about five hundred a year, with a power of presenting
himself to some good living. He is provided for.
" The session of the Club is to commence with that
of the parliament. Mr. Banks desires to be admitted ;
he will be a very honourable accession.
" Did the King please you ? The Coxheath men, I
think, have some reason to complain : Reynolds says
your camp is better than theirs.
*' I hope you find yourself able to encounter this
weather. Take care of your own health ; and, as you
can of your men. Be pleased to make my compli-
ments to all the gentlemen whose notice I have had,
and whose kindness I have experienced.
" I am, dear Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" October 31, 177S. " Sam. Johnson/'
I wrote to him on the 1 8th of August, the 18th of
September, and the 6th of November ; informing him
of my having had another son born, whom I had called
James ; that I had passed some time at Auchinleck ;
that the Countess of Loudoun, now in her ninety-ninth
year, was as fresh as when he saw her, and remember-
ed him with respect ; and that his mother by adop-
tion, the Countess of Eglintoune, had said to me,
" Tell Mr. Johnson 1 love hirti exceedingly ;" that I
had again suffered much from bad spirits ; and that as
it was very long since I heard from him, I was not a
little uneasy.
The continuance of his regard for his friend Dr. Bur-
ney, appears from the following letters :
" TO THE REVEREND DR. WHEELER, OXFORD.
" DEAR SIR,
" Dr. Burney, who brings this paper, is engaged
in a History of Musick ; and having been told by Dr.
Markham of some MSS. relating to his subject, which
<i
DR. JOHNSON.
are in the library of your College, is desirous to exam- 1778.
ine them. He is my friend ; and therefore I take the ^^
liberty of entreating your favour and assistance in his 69.
enquiry : and can assure you, with great confidence,
that if you knew him he would not want any interven-
ient solicitation to obtain the kindness of one who loves
learning and virtue as you love them.
" 1 have been flattering myself ail the summer with
the hope of paying my annual visit to my friends ; but
something has obstructed me : I still hope not to be
long without seeing you. I should be glad of a lit-
tle literary talk ; and glad to shew you, by the frequen-
cy of my visits, how eagerly I love it, when you talk it.
" 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" London^ IVovember 2, 1778. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THE REVEREND DR. EDWARDS, OXFORD.
" SIR,
" The bearer. Dr. Burney, has had some account
of a Welsh Manuscript in the Bodleian library, from
which he hopes to gain some materials for his History
of Musick ; but being ignorant of the language, is at a
loss where to find assistance. I make no doubt but
you. Sir, can help him through his difficulties, and there-
fore take the liberty of recommending him to your fa-
vour, as I am sure you will find him a man worthy of
every civility that can be shewn, and every benefit that
can be conferred.
" But we must not let Welsh drive us from Greek.
What comes of Xenophon ? If you do not like the trou-
ble of publishing the book, do not let your commenta-
ries be lost ; contrive that they may be published
somewhere.
" I am. Sir,
" Your humble servant,
" London, November 2, 1778. " Sam. Johnson."
These letters procured Dr. Burney great kindness
and friendly offices from both of these gentlemen, not
76 THE LIFE OF
1778. only on that occasion, but in future visits to the univei-
£^ sity. The same year Dr. Johnson not only wrote to
69. Dr. Joseph Warton in favour of Dr. Burney's youngest
son, who was to be placed in the college of Winchester,
but accompanied him when he went thither.
We surely cannot but admire the benevolent exer-
tions of this great and good man, especially when we
consider how grievously he was afflicted with bad health,
and how uncomfortable his home was made by the per-
petual jarring of those whom he charitably accommo-
dated under his roof. He has sometimes suffered me
to talk jocularly of his group of females, and call them
his Seraglio. He thus mentions them, together with
honest Levet, in one of his letters to Mrs. Thrale :*
" Williams hates every body : Levet hates Desmoulins,
and does not love Williams ; Desmoulins hates them
both ; Poll 7 loves none of them."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" It is indeed a long time since I wrote, and think
you have some reason to complain ; however you must
not let small things disturb you, when you have such a
fine addition to your happiness as a new boy, and 1 hope
your lady's health restored by bringing him. It seems
very probable that a little care will now restore her, if
any remains of her complaints are left.
" You seem, if I understand your letter, to be gain-
ing ground at Auchinleck, an incident that would give
me great delight.
******
" When any fit of anxiety, or gloominess, or perver-
sion of mind, lays hold upon you, make it a rule not to
publish it by complaints, but exert your whole care to
hide it ; by endeavouring to hide it, you will drive it
away. Be always busy.
" The Club is to meet with the parliament ; we talk
of electing Banks, the traveller ; he will be a reputable
member.
' Vol. ii. page 38 Miss Carmichael
DR. JOHNSON. //
" Langton has been encamped with his company of '778.
miUtia on Warley Common ; 1 spent five days amongst ^^
them ; he signalized himself as a diligent officer, and 69.
has very high respect in the regiment. He presided
when I was there at a court-martial ; he is now quar-
tered in Hertfordshire ; his lady and little ones are in
Scotland. Paoli came to the camp, and commended
the soldiers.
" Of myself I have no great matters to say, my health
is not restored, my nights are restless and tedious. The
best night that 1 have had these twenty years was at
Fort-Augustus.
" 1 hope soon to send you a few lives to read.
" 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your most affectionate,
'^November 21, 1778. " Sam. Johnson."
About this time the Rev. Mr. John Hussey, who
had been some time in trade, and was then a clergyman
of the church of England, being about to undertake a
journey to Aleppo, and other parts of the East, which
he accomplished. Dr. Johnson, (who had long been in
habits of intimacy with him,) honoured him with the
following letter :
" TO MR. JOHN HUSSEY.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HAVE sent you the ' Grammar,' and have left
you two books more, by which I hope to be remember-
ed : write my name in them ; we may perhaps see
each other no more, you part with my good wishes,
nor do 1 despair of seeing you return. Let no oppor-
tunities of vice corrupt you ; let no bad example se-
duce you ; let the blindness of Mahometans confirm
you in Christianity. God bless you.
" I am, dear Sir,
" Your affectionate humble servant,
" December 29, 1778. "Sam. Johnson."
Johnson this year expressed great satisfaction at the
publication of the first volume of " Discourses to the
78 THE LIFE OF
177P Royal Academy," by Sir Joshua Reynolds, whom he
^J^ always considered as one of his literary school. Much
70. praise indeed is due to those excellent Discourses,
which are so universally admired, and for which the
authour received from the Empress of Russia a gold
^nufF-box, adorned with her profile in bas reliefs set in
diamonds ; and containing what is infinitely more val-
uable, a slip of paper, on which are written with her
Imperial Majesty's own hand, the following words :
" Pour le Chevalier Retjnolds en temoignage du con-
tentement quefai ressentie d la lecture de ses excellens
discours sur la peiniure^'
This year, Johnson gave the world a luminous proof
that the vigour of his mind in all its faculties, whether
memory, judgement, or imagination, was not in the
least abated ; for this year came out the first four vol-
umes of his " Prefaces, biographical and critical, to the
most eminent of the EngHsh Poets,"* published by the
booksellers of London. The remaining volumes came
out in the year 1780. The Poets were selected by the
several booksellers who had the honorary copy right,
which is still preserved among them by mutual com-
pact, notwithstanding the decision of the House of
Lords against the perpetuity of Literary Property. We
have his own authority,^ that by his recommendation
the poems of Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden,
were added to the collection. Of this work 1 shall
speak more particularly hereafter.
On the 2';2d of January, I wrote to him on several
topicks, and mentioned that as he had been so good as
to permit me to have the proof sheets of his " Lives of
the Poets," I had written to his servant, Francis, to
take care of them for me.
" MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
" MY DEAR SIR, ''^ Edinburgh., Feb. 2, 1779-
" Garrick's death is a striking event ; not that
we should be surprized with the death of any man, who
8 Life of Watts.
DR. JOHNSON. 79
has lived sixty-two years ;^ but because there was a vi- '779.
vaciti/ in our late celebrated friend, wliich drove away ^^
the thoughts of death from any association with him. 1 70.
am sure you will be tenderly affected with his depart-
ure ; and 1 would wish to hear from you upon the sub-
ject. I was obliged to him in my days of effervescence
in London, when poor Derrick was my governour ; and
since that time 1 received many civilities from him.
Do you remember how pleasing it was, when I receiv-
ed a letter from him at Inverary, upon our first return
to civilized living after our Hebridean journey. I shall
always remember him with affection as well as admi-
ration.
" On Saturday last, being the 30th of January, I
drank coffee and old port, and had solemn conversa-
tion with the Reverend Mr. Falconer, a nonjuring
bishop, a very learned and worthy man. He gave two
toasts, which you will believe 1 drank with cordiality.
Dr. Samuel Johnson, and Flora Macdonald. 1 sat about
four hours with him, and it was really as if I had been
living in the last century. The Episcopal Church of
Scotland, though faithful to the royal house of Stuart,
has never accepted of any cojige d^eiire, since the Rev-
olution ; it is the only true Episcopal Church in Scot-
land, as it has its own succession of bishops. For as
to the episcopal clergy who take the oaths to the pres-
ent government, they indeed follow the rites of the
Church of England, but, as Bishop Falconer observed,
' they are not Episcopal ; for they are under no bish-
op, as a bishop cannot have authority beyond his dio-
cese.' This venerable gentleman did me the honour to
dine with me yesterday, and he laid his hands upon the
heads of my little ones. We had a good deal of curious
literary conversation, particularly about Mr. Thomas
Ruddiman, with whom he lived in great friendship.
" Any fresh instance of the uncertainty of life makes
one embrace more closely a valuable friend. My dear
' [On Mr. Garrick's Monument in Lichfield Cathedral, he is said to have died,
" aged 64 years." But it is a mistake, and Mr. Boswell is perfectly correct. Gar-
rick was baptized at Hereford, Feb. 28, 1716-17 and died at his house in London,
Jan. 20, 1779. The inaccuracy of lapidary inscriptions is well known. M.]
80 THE LIFE OF
1779. and much respected Sir, may God preserve you long
2^ in this world while I am in it.
70. " I am ever,
" Your much obliged,
" And affectionate humble servant,
" James Boswell/'
On the 23d of February I wrote to him again, com-
plaining of his silence, as 1 had heard he was ill, and
had written to Mr. Thrale for information concerning
him ; and 1 announced my intention of soon being
again in London.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Why should you take such delight to make a
bustle, to write to Mr. Thrale that 1 am negligent, and
to Francis to do what is so very unnecessary. Thrale,
you may be sure, cared not about it ; and 1 shall spare
Francis the trouble, by ordering a set both of the Lives
and Poets to dear Mrs. Boswell, ' in acknowledgement
of her marmalade. Persuade her to accept them, and
accept them kindly. If I thought she would receive
them scornfully, 1 would send them to Miss Boswell,
who, 1 hope, has yet none of her mamma's ill-will to me.
" I would send sets of Lives, four volumes, to some
other friends, to Lord Hailes first. His second volume
lies by my bed-side ; a book stirely of great labour,
and to every just thinker of great delight. Write me
word to whom I shall send besides ; would it please
Lord Auchinleck ? Mrs. Thrale waits in the coach.
" I am, dear Sir, &c.
" March 13, 1779- " Sam. Johnson."
This letter crossed me on the road to London, where
I arrived on Monday, March 15, and next morning at
a late hour, found Dr. Johnson sitting over his tea,
attended by Mrs. Desmoulins, Mr. Levet, and a cler-
' He sent a set elegantly bound and gilt, which was received as a very handsomp
present.
DR. JOHNSON. 81
gyman, who had come to submit some poetical pieces ^79.
to his revision. It is wonderful what a number and JJ^
variety of writers, some of them even unknown to him, 70. *
prevailed on his good-nature to look over their works,
and suggest corrections and improvements. My arrival
interrupted for a httle while, the important business of
this true representative of Bayes ; upon its being re-
sumed, 1 found that the subject under immediate con-
.sideration was a translation, yet in manuscript, of the
Carmen Seculare of Horace, which had this year been
set to musick, and performed as a publick entertain-
ment in London, for the joint benefit of Monsieur
Philidor and Signor Baretti. When Johnson had done
reading, the authour asked him bluntly, " If upon the
whole it was a good translation 1" Johnson, whose
regard for truth was uncommonly strict, seemed to be
puzzled for a moment, what answer to make ; as he
certainly could not honestly commend the perform-
ance : with exquisite address he evaded the question
thus, " Sir, I do not say that it may not be made a
very good translation." Here nothing whatever in
favour of the performance was affirmed, and yet the
writer was not shocked. A printed " Ode to the
Warlike Genius of Britain," came next in review ; the
bard was a lank bony figure, with short black hair ; he
was writhing himself in agitation, while Johnson read,
and shewing his teeth in a grin of earnestness, exclaim-
ed in broken sentences, and in a keen sharp tone, " Is
that poetry, Sir ] — Is it Pindar ?" Johnson. " Why,
Sir, there is here a great deal of what is called poetry."
Then, turning to me, the poet cried, " My muse has
not been long upon the town, and (pointing to the
Ode) it trembles under the hand of the great critick."
Johnson, in a tone of displeasure, asked him, " Why
do you praise Anson ?" I did not trouble him by ask-
ing his reason for this question. He proceeded,
" Here is an errour. Sir ; you have made Genius fem-
inine."— " Palpable, Sir ; (cried the enthusiast) 1 know
it. But (in a lower tone) it was to pay a compliment
to the Duchess of Devonshire, with which her Grace
was pleased. She is walking across Coxheath, in the
VOL. iir. 11
82 THE LIFE OF
1779. military uniform, and I suppose her to be the Genius
^J^ of Britain." Johnson. " Sir, you are giving a reason
70. for it,; but that will not make it right. You may have
a reason why two and two should make five ; but they
will still make but four."
Although 1 was several times with him in the course
of the following days, such it seems were my occupa-
tions, or such my negligence, that I have preserved no
memorial of his conversation till Friday, March 26,
when I visited him. He said he expected to be at-
tacked on account of his " Lives of the Poets."
" However (said he) 1 would rather be attacked than
unnoticed. For the worst thing you can do to an au-
thour is to be silent as to his works. An assault upon
a town is a bad thing ; but starving it is still worse ;
an assault may be unsuccessful ; you may have more
men killed than you kill ; but if you starve the town,
you are sure of victory."
Talking of a friend of ours associating with persons
of very discordant principles and characters ; I said he
was a very universal man, quite a man of the world.
Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; but one may be so much a man
of the world, as to be nothing in the world. I remem-
ber a passage in Goldsmith's ' Vicar of Wakefield,'
which he was afterwards fool enough to expunge : ' I
do not love a man who is zealous for nothing." Bos-
well. " That was a fine passage." Johnson. " Yes,
Sir : there was another fine passage too, which he
struck out : ' When I was a young man, being anxious
to distinguish myself, 1 was perpetually starting new
propositions. But I soon gave this over : for, 1 found
that generally what was new was false."- I said 1 did
not like to sit with people of whom I had not a good
opinion. Johnson. " But you must not indulge your
- [Dr. Eurney in a note introduced in a former page has mentioned this circum-
btance, concerning Goldsmith, as communicated to him by Dr. Johnson ; not re-
collecting that it occurred here. His remark, however, is not wholly superfluous,
as it ascertains that the words which Goldsmith had put into the mouth of a ficti-
tious character in " The Vicar of Wakefield," and which as we learn from Dr. Jolm-
son he afterwards expunged, related, like many other passages in his Novel, to
himself. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 83
delicacy too much ; or you will be a fSfe-d-t^te man all i779.
your life." ^^
During my stay in London this spring, I find I was 70.
unaccountably negligent in preserving Johnson's say-
ings, more so than at any time when I was happy
enough to have an opportunity of hearing his wisdofn
and wit. There is no help for it now. I must content
myself with presenting such scraps as I have. But I
am nevertheless ashamed and vexed to think how much
has been lost. It is not that there was a bad crop this
year ; but that I was not sufficiently careful in gather-
ing it in. I, therefore, in some instances can only ex-
hibit a few detached fragments.
Talking of the wonderful concealment of the authour
of the celebrated letters signed Junius ; he said, I should
have believed Burke to be Junius, because 1 know no
man but Burke who is capable of writing these letters ;
but Burke spontaneously denied it to me. The case
would have been different, had I asked him if he was
the authour ; a man so questioned, as to an anonymous
publication, may think he has a right to deny it.''
He observed that his old friend, Mr. Sheridan, had
been honoured with extraordinary attention in his own
country, by having had an exception made in his favour
in an Irish Act of Parliament concerning insolvent debt-
ors. " Thus to be singled out (said he) by a legislature,
as an object of publick consideration and kindness, is a
proof of no common merit."
At Streatham, on Monday, March 29, at breakfast,
he maintained that a father had no right to controul the
inclinations of his daughters in marriage.
On Wednesday, March 31, when 1 visited him, and
confessed an excess of which I had very seldom been
guilty: that I had spent a whole night in playing at
cards, and that I could not look back on it with satisfac-
tion : instead of a harsh animadversion, he mildly said,
" Alas, Sir, on how few things can we look back with
satisfaction."
On Thursd,ay, April 1, he commended one of the
Dukes of Devonshire for "a dogged veracity." ^ He
- See p. 434 of Volume II.
84 THE LIFE OF
1779. said too, " London is nothing to some people ; but tea
man whose pleasure is intellectual, London is the place.
And there is no place where economy can be so well
practised as in London : more can be had here for the
money, even by ladie s, than any where else. You can-
not play tricks with your fortune in a small place ; you
must make an uniform appearance. Here a lady may
have well-furnished apartments, and elegant dress, with-
out any meat in her kitchen.'*
1 was amused by considering with how much ease
and coolness he could write or talk to a friend, exhort-
ing him not to suppose that happiness was not to be
found as well in other places as in London ; when he
himself was at all times sensible of its being, compara-
tively speaking, a heaven upon earth. The truth is,
that by those who from sagacity, attention, and experi-
ence, have learnt the full advantage of London, its pre-
eminence over every other place, not only for variety of
enjoyment, but for comfort, will be felt with a philosoph-
ical exultation. The freedom from remark and petty
censure, with which life may be passed there, is a cir-
cumstance which a man who knows the teazing restraint
of a narrow circle must relish highly. Mr. Burke, whose
orderly and amiable domestick habits might make the
eye of observation less irksome to him than to most men,
said once very pleasantly, in my hearing, " Though I
have the honour to represent Bristol, I should not like
to live there ; I should be obliged to be so much upo7i
my good behaviour J'^ In Lond6n, a man may live in
splendid society at one time, and in frugal retirement
at another, without animadversion. There, and there
alone, a man's own house is truly his castle^ in which
he can be in perfect safety from intrusion whenever he
pleases. I never shall forget how well this was express-
ed to me one day by Mr. Meynell : " The chief advan-
tage of London (said he) is, that a man is always so near
his burrow P
He said of one of his old acquaintances, " He is very
fit for a travelling governour. He knows French very
well. He is a man of good principles ; and there would
be no danger that a young gentleman should catch his
DR. JOHNSON. 85
manner ; for it is so very bad, that it must be avoided. 1779.
In that respect he would be like the drunken Helot." "^^^
A gentleman has informed me, that Johnson said of 70. '
the same person, " Sir, he has the most inverted under-
standing of any man whom 1 have ever known."
On Friday, April 2, being Good-Friday, I visited
him in the morning as usual ; and finding that we in-
sensibly fell into a train of ridicule upon the foibles of
one of our friends, a very worthy man, I, by way of a
check, quoted some good admonition from " The Gov-
ernment of the Tongue," that very pious book. It
happened also remarkably enough, that the subject of
the sermon preached to us to-day by Dr. Burrows, the
rector of St. Clement Danes, was the certainty that at
the last day we must give an account of " the deeds
done in the body ;" and amongst various acts of culpa-
bility he mentioned evil-speaking. As we were moving
slowly along in the croud from church, Johnson jogged
my elbow, and said, "Did you attend to the sermon ?"
— " Yes, Sir, (said I,) it was very applicable to usP He
however, stood upon the defensive. " Why, Sir, the
sense of ridicule is given us, and may be lawfully used.
The authour of ' The Government of the Tongue' would
have us treat all men alike."
In the interval between morning and evening service,
he endeavoured to employ himself earnestly in devo-
tional exercise ; and, as he has mentioned in his
" Prayers and Meditations,"* gave me " Les Pensees de
Paschal" that I might not interrupt him. I preserve
the book with reverence. His presenting it to me is
marked upon it with his own hand, and I have found
in it a truly divine unction. We went to church again
in the afternoon.
On Saturday, April 3, I visited him at night, and
found him sitting in Mrs. Williams's room, with her,
and one who he afterwards told me was a natural son^
of the second Lord Southwell. The table had a singu-
lar appearance, being covered with a heterogeneous as-
" Page 173.
* [Mr. Mauritius Lowe, a paiqter. M]
86 THE LIFE OF
1779. semblage of oysters and porter for his company, and tea
2J^ for hinfiself. I mentioned my having heard an eminent
70. physician, who was himself a Christian, argue in favour
of universal toleration, and maintained, that no man
could be hurt by another man's differing from him in
opinion. Johnson. " Sir, you are to a certain degree
hurt by knowing that even one man does not believe."
On Easter-day, after solemn service at St. PauPs, I
dined with him : Mr. Allen the printer was also his
guest. He was uncommonly silent ; and 1 have not
written down any thing, except a single curious fact,
which, having the sanction of his inflexible veracity,
may be received as a striking instance of human insen-
sibility and inconsideration. As he was passing by a
fishmonger who was skinning an eel alive, he heard
him " curse it, because it would not lye still."
On Wednesday, April 7, 1 dined with him at Sir
Joshua Reynolds's. 1 have not marked what company
was there. Johnson harangued upon the qualities of
different liquors ; and spoke with great contempt of
claret, as so weak, that " a man would be drowned by
it before it made him drunk." He was persuaded to
drink one glass of it, that he might judge, not from
recollection, which might be dim, but from immediate
sensation. He shook his head, and said, " Poor stuff!
No, Sir, claret is the liquor for boys ; port for men ;
but he who aspires to be a hero (smiling) must drink
brandy. In the first place, the flavour of brandy is
most grateful to the palate ; and then brandy will do
soonest for a man what drinking can do for him. There
are, indeed, few who are able to drink brandy. That
is a power rather to be wished for than attained. And
yet, (proceeded he) as in all pleasure hope is a consid-
erable part, 1 know not but fruition comes too quick
by brandy. Florence wine I think the worst ; it is
wine only to the eye ; it is wine neither while you are
drinking it, nor after you have drunk it ; it neither
pleases the taste, nor exhilarates the spirits." I re-
minded him how heartily he and 1 used to drink wine
together, when we were first acquainted ; and how I
used to have a head-ache after sitting up with him.
DR. JOHNSON. 87
He did not like to have this recalled, or, perhaps, think- 1779-
ing that I boasted improperly, resolved to have a witty ^J^
stroke at me ; " Nay, Sir, it was not the zvlne that 70. *
made your head ache, but the sense that I put into it.'^
Bos WELL. " What, Sir ! will sense make the head
ache?" JoHNS-ON. " Yes, Sir, (with a smile) when it
is not used to it." — No man who has a true relish of
pleasantry could be offended at this ; especially if
Johnson in a long intimacy had given him repeated
proofs of his regard and good estimation. I used to
say, that as he had given me a thousand pounds in
praise, he had a good right now and then to take a
guinea from me.
On Thursday, April 8, I dined with him at Mr.
Allan Ramsay's, with Lord Graham and some other
company. We talked of Shakspeare's witches. John-
son. " They are beings of his own creation ; they are
a compound of malignity and meanness, without any
abilities : and are quite different from the Itahan ma-
gician. King James says in his ' Daemonology' ' Ma-
gicians command the devils : witchejs are their servants.'
The Italian magicians are elegant beings." Ramsay.
" Opera witches, not Drury-lane witches." — Johnson
observed, that abilities might be employed in a narrow
sphere, as in getting money, which he said he beheved
no man could do, without vigorous parts, though con-
centrated to a point. Ramsay. " Yes, like a strong
horse in a mill ; he pulls better."
Lord Graham, while he praised the beauty of Loch-
lomond, on the banks of which is his family seat, com-
plained of the climate, and said he could not bear it.
Johnson. " Nay, my Lord, don't talk so : you may
bear it well enough. Your ancestors have borne it
more years than 1 can tell." This was a handsome
compliment to the antiquity of the House of Montrose.
His Lordship told me afterwards, that he had only af-
fected to complain of the climate ; lest, if he had
spoken as favourably of his country as he really thought,
Dr. Johnson might have attacked it. Johnson was
very courteous to Lady Margaret Macdonald. " Mad-
am, (said he,) when I was in the Isle of Sky, I heard
$8 THE LIFE OP
1779. of the people running to take the stones oflf the road,
lest Lady Margaret's horse should stumble."
Lord Graham commended Dr. Drummond at Naples
as a man of extraordinary talents ; and added, that he
had a great love of liberty. Johnson. " He is ijoung^
my Lord ; (looking to his Lordship with an arch smile)
all hoijs love liberty, till experience convinces them
they are not so fit to govern themselves as they imag-
ined. We are all agreed as to our own liberty ; we
would have as much of it as we can get ; but we are
not agreed as to the liberty of others : for in propor-
tion as we take, others must lose. I believe we hardly
wish that the mob should have liberty to govern us.
When that was the case some time ago, no man was
at liberty not to have candles in his windows." Ram-
say. " The result is, that order is better than confu-
sion." Johnson. " The result is, that order cannot
be had but by subordination."
On Friday, April 16, 1 had been present at the trial
of the unfortunate Mr. Hackman, who in a fit of fran-
tick jealous love, had shot Miss Ray, the favourite of a
nobleman. Johnson, in whose company I dined to-
day with some other friends, was much interested by
my account of what passed, and particularly with his
prayer for the mercy of heaven. He said, in a solemn
fervid tone, " I hope he shall find mercy."
This day a violent altercation arose between John-
son and Beauclerk, which having made much noise at
the time, 1 think it proper, in order to prevent any fu-
ture misrepresentation, to give a minute account of it.
In talking of Hackman, Johnson argued, as Judge
Blackstone had done, that his being furnished with two
pistols was a proof that he meant to shoot two persons.
Mr. Beauclerk said, " No ; for that every wise man
who intended to shoot himself, took two pistols, that
he might be sure of doing it at once. Lord 's
cook shot himself with one pistol, and lived ten days
in great agony. Mr. , who loved buttered muf-
fins, but durst not eat them because they disagreed
with his stomach, resolved to shoot himself ; and then
he eat three buttered muffins for breakfast, before
DR. JOHNSON. 89
shooting himself, knowing that he should not be 1779.
troubled with indigestion : he had two charged pistols ; ^^
one was found lying charged upon the table by him, 70.
after he had shot himself with the other." — " Well,
(said Johnson, with an air of triumph,) you see here
one pistol was sufficient." Beauclerk replied smartly,
" Because it happened to kill him." And either then
or a very little afterwards, being piqued at Johnson's
triumphant remark, added, " This is what you don't
know, and I do." There was then a cessation of the
dispute ; and some minutes intervened, during which,
dinner and the glass went on cheerfully ; when John-
son suddenly and abruptly exclaimed, " Mr. Beau-
clerk, how came you to talk so petulantly to me, as
* This is what you don't know, but what 1 know V One
thing / know, which ifoii don't seem to know, that you
are very uncivil." Beauclerk. " Because ijou began
by being uncivil, (which you always are.)" The words
in parentheses were, I believe, not heard by Dr. John-
son. Here again there was a cessation of arms.
Johnson told me, that the reason why he waited at
first some time without taking any notice of what Mr.
Beauclerk said, was because he was thinking whether
he should resent it. But when he considered that
there were present a young Lord and an eminent trav-
eller, two men of the world with whom he had never
dined before, he was apprehensive that they might
think they had a right to take such liberties with him
as Beauclerk did, and therefore resolved he would not
let it pass ; adding, " that he would not appear a cow-
ard." A little while after this, the conversation turned
on the violence of Hackman's temper. Johnson then
said, " It was his business to command his temper, as
my friend, Mr. Beauclerk, should have done some time
ago." Beauclerk. " 1 should learn of ijou, Sir."
Johnson. " Sir, you have given me opportunities
enough of learning, when I have been in your compa-
ny. No man loves to be treated with contempt."
Beauclerk. (with a polite inclination towards John-
son) " Sir, you have known me twenty years, and
however I may have treated others, you may be sure
VOL. III. ' 12
90 THE LIFE OF
'779. I could never treat you with contempt/* Johnson.
2J^ " Sir, you have said more than was necessary." Thus
70. it ended ; and Beauclerk's coach not having come for
him till very late, Dr. Johnson and another gentleman
sat with him a long time after the rest of the company
were gone ; and he and I dined at Beauclerk's on the
Saturday se'nnight following.
After this tempest had subsided, I recollect the fol-
lowing particulars of his conversation :
" 1 am always for getting a boy forward in his learn-
ing ; for that is a sure good. 1 would let him at first
read any English book which happens to engage his
attention ; because you have done a great deal, when
you have brought him to have entertainment from a
book. He'll get better books afterwards."
" Mallet, 1 believe, never wrote a single line of his
projected life of the Duke of Marlborough. He groped
for materials ; and thought of it, till he had exhausted
his mind. Thus it sometimes happens that men en-
tangle themselves in their own schemes."
" To be contradicted, in order to force you to talk is
mighty unpleasing. You shine^ indeed ; but it is by
being groioid."
" Of a gentleman who made some figure among the
Literati of his time, (Mr. Fitzherbert,) he said, " VVhat
eminence he had was by a felicity of manner : he had
no more learning than what he could not help."
On Saturday, April 24, 1 dined with him at Mr.
Beauclerk's, with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Jones,
(afterwards Sir William,) Mr. Langton, Mr. Steevens,
Mr. Paradise, and Dr. Higgins. I mentioned that
Mr. Wilkes had attacked Garrick tome, as a man who
had no friend. Johnson. " I believe he is right. Sir.
O/ (foKoi, Qv (fiKoq — He had friends, but no friend.* Gar-
rick was so diffused, he had no man to whom he wished
to unbosom himself He found people always ready
to applaud him, and that always for the same thing :
so he saw life with great uniformity." I took upon
rae, for once, to fight with Goliath's weapons, and play
' See p. 12 of this vol. and voL I. p. 165.
DR. JOHNSON. 91
the sophist. — " Garrick did not need a friend, as he i779.
got from every body all he wanted. What is a friend ? ^^
One who supports you and comforts you, while others 70.
do not. Friendship, you know. Sir, is the cordial drop,
* to make the nauseous draught of life go down :* but
if the draught be not nauseous, if it be all sweet, there
is no occasion for that drop." Johnson. " Many men
would not be content to live so. I hope I should not.
They would wish to have an intimate friend, with
whom they might compare minds, and cherish private
virtues." One of the company mentioned Lord Ches-
terfield, as a man who had no friend. Johnson.
" There were more materials to make friendship in
Garrick, had he not been so diflfused." Boswell.
" Garrick was pure gold, but beat out to thin leaf.
Lord Chesterfield was tinsel." Johnson. " Garrick
was a very good man, the cheerfulest man of his age ;
a decent liver in a profession which is supposed to give
indulgence to Hcentiousness ; and a man who gave
away, freely, money acquired by himself. He began
the world with a great hunger for money ; the son of
a half-pay officer, bred in a family whose study was to
make four-pence do as much as others made four-pence
halfpenny do. But, when he had got money, he was
very liberal." 1 presumed to animadvert on his eulo-
gy on Garrick, in his " Lives of the Poets." " You
say. Sir, his death eclipsed the gaiety of nations."
Johnson. " I could not have said more nor less. It is
the truth ; eclipsed^ not extinguished ; and his death
did eclipse ; it was like a storm." Bosw^ell. " But
why nations ] Did his gaiety extend further than his
own nation ]" Johnson. " Why, Sir, some exagger-
ation must be allowed. Besides, nations may be said
— if we allow the Scotch to be a nation, and to have
gaiety, — which they have not. You are an exception,
though. Come, gentlemen, let us candidly admit that
there is one Scotchman who is cheerful." Beau-
clerk. " But he is a very unnatural Scotchman." I,
however, continued to think the compliment to Gar-
rick hyperbolically untrue. His acting had ceased
sometime before his death ; at anv rate he had acte.d
92 THE LIFE OF
1779. in Ireland but a short time, at an early period of his
^j"^ life, and never in Scotland. 1 objected also to what
70, appears an antichmax of praise, when contrasted with
the preceding panegyrick, — '' and diminished the pub-
lick stock of Ijarmless pleasure !*' — " is not harmless
pleasure very tame ?" Johnson. " Nay, Sir, harmless
pleasure is the highest praise. Pleasure is a word of
dubious import ; pleasure is in general dangerous, and
pernicious to virtue ; to be able therefore to furnish
pleasure that is harmless, pleasure pure and unalloyed,
is as great a power as man can possess." 1 his was,
perhaps, as ingenious a defence as could be made ;
still, however, 1 was not satisfied.
A celebrated wit being mentioned, he said, " One
may say of him as was said of a French wit, // ii'a de
Vesprit que contre Dieu. I have been several times in
company with him, but never perceived any strong
power of wit. He produces a general effect by various
means ; he has a cheerful countenance and a gay voice.
Besides his trade is wit. Jt would be as wild in him
to come into company without merriment, as for a
highwayman to take the road without his pistols."
Talking of the effects of drinking, he said, " Drink-
ing may be practised with great prudence ; a man who
exposes himself when he is intoxicated, has not the art
of getting drunk ; a sober man who happens occasion-
ally to get drunk, readily enough goes into a new com-
pany, which a man who has been drinking should never
do. Such a man will undertake-any thing ; he is with-
out skill in inebriation. I used to slink home when I
had drunk too much. A man accustomed to self-ex-
amination will be conscious when he is drunk, though
an habitual drunkard will not be conscious of it. I
knew a physician, who for twenty years was not sober ;
yet in a pamphlet, which he wrote upon fevers, he ap-
pealed to Garrick and me for his vindication from a
charge of drunkenness, A bookseller (naming him)
who got a large fortune by trade, was so habitually and
equably drunk, that his most intimate friends never per-
ceived that he was more sober at one time than another."
DR. JOHNSON. 93
Talking of celebrated and successful irregular prac- 1779.
tisers in physick, he said, " Taylor^ was the most igno- ^^
rant man 1 ever knew, but sprightly : Ward, the dullest. 70.
Taylor challenged me once to talk Latin with him ;
(laughing.) I quoted some of Horace, which he took
to be a part of my own speech. He said a few words
well enough." Beauclerk. " I remember, Sir, you
said, that Taylor was an instance how far impudence
could carry ignorance." — Mr. Beauclerk was very en-
tertaining this day, and told us a number of short sto-
ries in a lively elegant manner, and with that air oi the
ziiorld which has 1 know not what impressive effect, as
if there were something more than is expressed, or than
perhaps we could perfectly understand. As Johnson
and 1 accompanied Sir Joshua Reynolds in his coach,
Johnson said, " There is in Beauclerk a predominance
over his company, that one does not like. But he is a
man who has lived so much in the world, that he has a
short story on every occasion ; he is always ready to
talk, and is never exhausted."
Johnson and I passed the evening at Miss Rey-
nolds's, Sir Joshua's sister. I mentioned that an emi-
nent friend of our's, talking of the common remark, that
affection descends, said, that " this was wisely contrived
for the preservation of mankind ; for which it was not
so necessary that there should be affection from chil-
dren to parents, as from parents to childreJi ; nay, there
would be no harm in that view though children should
at a certain age eat their parents." Johnson. " But,
Sir, if this were known generally to be the case, parents
would not have affection for children." Boswell.
" True, Sir ; for it is in expectation of a return that
parents are so attentive to their children ; and I know
a very pretty instance of a little girl of whom her father
was very fond, who once when he was in a melancholy
fit, and had gone to bed, persuaded him to rise in good
humour by saying, ' My dear papa, please to get up,
and let me help you on with your clothes, that I may
learn to do it when you are an old man."
■ [The Chevalier Taylor, the celebrated Oculist. M.]
94: THE LIFE OF
1779. Soon after this time a little incident occurred, which
^^ I will not suppress, because 1 am desirous that my
70. work should be, as much as is consistent with the strict-
est truth, an antidote to the false and injurious notions
of his character, which have been given by others, and
therefore I infuse every drop of genuine sweetness into
my biographical cup.
" TO DR. JOHHSON.
" MY DEAR SIR,
" I AM in great pain with an inflamed foot, and
obliged to keep my bed, so am prevented from having
the pleasure to dine at Mr. Ramsay's to-day, which is
very hard ; and my spirits are sadly sunk. Will you
be so friendly as to come and sit an hour with me in
the evening. I am ever
" Your most faithful,
" And affectionate humble servant,
"James Boswell."
*' South-Audlejj-street ; Monday^ April 26."
" TO MR. BOSWELL.
" Mr. Johnson laments the absence of Mr. Bos-
well, and will come to him.
" Harley-sfreet"
He came to me in the evening, and brought Sir Josh-
ua Reynolds. I need scarcely «ay, that their conversa-
tion, while they sat by my bedside, was the most pleas-
ing opiate to pain that could have been administered.
Johnson being now better disposed to obtain infor-
mation concerning Pope than he was last year,^ sent
by me to my Lord Marchmont, a present of those vol-
umes of his " Lives of the Poets," which were at this
time published, with a request to have permission to
wait on him ; and his Lordship, who had called on
him twice, obligingly appointed Saturday, the first of
May, for receiving us.
• See p. 56 of this volume.
DR. JOHNSON. 9^
On that morning Johnson came to me from Streatham, *779.
and after drinking chocolate, at General Paoli^s, in South- ^^
Audley-street, we proceeded to Lord Marchmont's in 70.
Curzon-street. His Lordship met us at the door of his
library, and with great politeness said to Johnson, " I
am not going to make an encomium upon myself^ by
telling you the high respect I have for you. Sir/' John-
son was exceedingly courteous ; and the interview,
which lasted about two hours, during which the Earl
communicated his anecdotes of Pope, was as agreeable
as 1 could have wished. When we came out, 1 said to
Johnson, that considering his Lordship's civility, I
should have been vexed if he had again failed to come."
" Sir, (said he,) I would rather have given twenty pounds
than not have come.'' I accompanied him to Streat-
ham, where we dined, and returned to town in the
evening.
On Monday, May 3, 1 dined with him at Mr. Billy's ;
I pressed him this day for his opinion on the passage in
Parnell, concerning which I had in vain questioned
him in several letters, and at length obtained it in due
form of law.
Case for Dr. Johnson's Opinion ;
3d of May, 1779.
Parnell, in his ' Hermit,' has the following pas-
sage :
'To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight,
' To find if hoohs and swains report it right :
' (For yet by swains alone the world he knew,
' Whose feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew.')
Is there not a contradiction in its being first supposed
that the Hermit knew both what books and swains re-
ported of the world ; yet afterwards said, that he knew
it by swains alone ?
" / think it an inaccuracy . — He mentions tz0O in-
" structors in the first line, and says he had only one
" in the next.'^
9
' " I do not (says Mr. Malone,) see any difficulty in this passage, and wonder
that Dr. Johnson should have acknowledged it to be inaccurate. The Hermit, it
should be observed, had no actual experience of the world whatsoever : all his
96 THE LIFE OF
1779. This evening 1 set out for Scotland.
N^r>k/
JEtat. « TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELO.
"dear madam,
" Mr. Green has informed me that you are much
better ; 1 hope I need not tell you that I am glad of it.
1 cannot boast of being much better ; my old nocturnal
complaint still pursues me, and my respiration is diffi-
cult, though much easier than when I left you the sum-
mer before last. Mr. and Mrs. Thrale are well ; Miss
has been a little indisposed ; but she is got well again.
They have since the loss of their boy had two daugh-
ters ; but they seem likely to want a son.
" 1 hope you had some books which I sent you. I
was sorry for poor Mrs. Adey's death, and am afraid
you will be sometimes solitary ; but endeavour, wheth-
er alone or in company, to keep yourself cheerful. My
friends likewise die very fast ; but such is the state of
man. I am, dear love,
" Your most humble servant,
" Maij 4, 1779. "Sam. Johnson."
He had, before I left London, resumed the conver-
sation concerning the appearance of a ghost at New-
castle upon Tyne, which Mr. John Wesley believed,
but to which Johnson did not give credit. 1 was, how-
knowledge concerning it had been obtained in two ways ; from ioois, and from
the relations of those country swains, who had seen a little of it. The plain mean-
ing, therefore, is, ' To clear his doubts concerning Providence, and to obtain some
knowledge of the world by actual experience ; to see whether the accounts furnish-
ed by books, or by the oral communications of swains, were just representations of
it ; [I say, s-wains^ for his oral or -viva •voce information had been obtained from
that part of mankind alone, &c.' The word alone here does not relate to the whole
of the preceding line, as has been supposed, but, by a common licence, to the
words, — of all mankind, which are understood, and of which it is restrictive."
Mr. Malone, it must be owned, has shewn much critical ingenuity in his expla-
nation of this passage. His interpretation, however, seems to mc much too recon-
dite. The meaning of the passage may be certain enough ; but surely the expression
is confused, and one part of it contradictory to the other.
[But why too recondite ? — When a meaning is given to a passage by understanding
words in an uncommon sense, the interpretation may be said to be recondite, and,
however ingenious, may be suspected not to be sound ; but when words are ex-
plained in their ordinary acceptation, and the explication which is fairly deduced
from them without any force or constraint is also perfectly justified by the context,
it surely may be safely accepted ; and the calling such an explication recondite, when
nothing else can be said against it, will not make it the less just. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 9/
ever, desirous to examine the question closely, and at 1779-
the same time wished to be made acquainted with Mr. ^^
John Wesley ; for though I differed from him in some 70.
points, 1 admired his various talents, and loved his pi-
ous zeal. At my request, therefore, Dr. Johnson ^ave
me a letter of introduction to him.
" TO THE REVEREND MR. JOHN WESLEY.
" SIR,
" Mr. Boswell, a gentleman who has been long
known to me, is desirous of being known to you, and
has asked this recommendation, which I give him with
great willingness, because, I think it very much to be
wished that worthy and rehgious men should be ac-
quainted with each other.
" I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Marj 3, 1779. " Sam. Johnson.^'
37
Mr. Wesley being in the course of his ministry at
Edinburgh, I presented this letter to him, and was very
politely received. I begged to have it returned to me,
which was accordingly done. — His state of the evidence
as to the ghost, did not satisfy me.
1 did not write to Johnson, as usual, upon my return
to my family : but tried how he would be affected by
my silence. Mr. Dilly sent me a copy of a note which
he received from him on the 13th of July, in these
words :
" TO MR. DILLY.
" SIR,
" Since Mr. Bosweirs departure I have never
heard from him ; please to send word what you know
of him, and whether you have sent my books to his
lady. I am, &c.
" Sam. Johnson."
My readers will not doubt that his solicitude about
me was very flattering.
VOL. iir. 13
yS THE LIFE OF
^^^^' " TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" What can possibly have happened, that keeps
us two such strangers to each other ? 1 expected to
have heard from you when you came home ; I expected
afterwards. I went into the country and returned ;
and yet there is no letter from Mr. Boswell. No ill I
hope has happened ; and if ill should happen, why
should it be concealed from him who loves you ? Is it
a fit of humour, that has disposed you to try who can
hold out longest without writing ? If it be, you have
the victory. But 1 am afraid of something bad ; set
me free from my suspicions.
" My thoughts are at present employed in guessing
the reason of your silence : you must not expect that 1
should tell you any thing, if I had any thing to tell.
Write, pray write to me, and let me know what is, or
what has been the cause of this long interruption,
" I am, dear Sir,
"Your most affectionate humble servant,
** Ju/i/ 13, 1779. " Sam. Johnson."
" to dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" MY DEAR SIR, " Edinburgh, Juiij 17, 1779-
" What may be justly denominated a supine in-
dolence of mind has been my state of existence since I
last returned to Scotland. In a livelier state I had often
suffered severely from long intervals of silence on your
part ; and i had even been chid by you for expressing
my uneasiness. I was willing to take advantage of my
insensibility, and while 1 could bear the experiment,
to try whether your affection for me, would, after an
unusual silence on my part, make you write first. This
afternoon I have had very high satisfaction by receiving
your kind letter of enquiry, for which I most gratefully
thank you. I am doubtful if it was right to make the
experiment ; though I have gained by it. I was be-
ginning to grow tender, and to upbraid myself, espe-
cially after having dreamt two nights ago that 1 was
DR. JOHNSON. 99
with you. I and my wife, and my four children, are 1779-
all well. I would not delay one post to answer your ^^
letter ; but as it is late, I have not time to do more. 70.
You shall soon hear from me, upon many and various
particulars ; and I shall never again put you to any test.
t am, with veneration, my dear Sir,
" Your much obliged,
" And faithful humble servant,
" James Boswell."
On the 22d of July, I wrote to him again ; and gave
him an account of my last interview with my worthy
friend, Mr. Edward Dilly, at his brother's house at
Southill in Bedfordshire, where he died soon after I
parted from him, leaving me a very kind remembrance
of his regard.
I informed him that Lord Hailes, who had promised
to furnish him with some anecdotes for his " Lives of
the Poets," had sent me three instances of Prior's bor-
rowing from Gombdidd, in '''' Recueil cles Poefes" tome
3. Epigram " To John I owed ' great obligation," p.
2J. " To the Duke of Noailles," p. 32. " Saunter-
ing Jack and idle Joan," p. 25.
My letter was a pretty long one, and contained a va-
riety of particulars ; but he, it should seem, had not
attended to it ; for his next to me was as follows :
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" MY DEAR SIR,
" Are you playing the same trick again, and trying
who can keep silence longest ! Remember that all
tricks are either knavish or childish : and that it is as
foolish to make experiments upon the constancy of a
friend, as upon the chastity of a wife.
" What can be the cause of this second fit of silence,
I cannot conjecture ; but after one trick, I will not be
cheated by another, nor will harass my thoughts with
conjectures about the motives of a man who, probably,
acts only by caprice. 1 therefore suppose you are well,
and that Mrs. Boswell is well too : and that the fine
100 THE LIFE OF
1779. summer has restored Lord Auchinleck. I am much
2J^ better than you left me ; I think 1 am better than
70. ' when 1 was in Scotland.
" 1 forgot whether I informed you that poor Thrale
has been in great danger. Mrs. Thrale likewise has
miscarried, and been much indisposed. Every body
else is well ; Langton is in camp. I intend to put
Lord Hailes's description of Dryden' into another edi-
tion, and as 1 know his accuracy, wish he would con-
sider the dates, which 1 could not always settle to my
own mind.
" Mr. Thrale goes to Brighthelmstone, about Michael-
mas, to be jolly and ride a hunting. 1 shall go to
town, or perhaps to Oxford. Exercise and gaiety, or
rather carelessness, will, 1 hope, dissipate all remains
of his malady ; and 1 likewise hope by the change of
place, to find some opportunities of growing yet better
myself. I am, dear Sir,
" Your humble servant,
" Streatham, Sept. 9, 1779. " Sam. Johnson."
My readers will not be displeased at being told every
shght circumstance of the manner in which Dr. John-
son contrived to amuse his solitary hours. He some-
times employed himself in chymistry, sometimes in
watering and pruning a vine, sometimes in small ex-
periments, at which those who may smile, should rec-
ollect that they are moments which admit of being
soothed only by trifles.^
' Which I communicated to him from his Lordship, but it has not yet been pub-
lished. I have a copy of it.
[The few notices concerning Dryden, which Lord Hailes had collected, the au-
thor afterwards gave to Mr. Malone. M.]
2 In one of his manuscript Diaries, there is the following entry, which marks his
curious minute attention : " July 26, 1768. I shaved my nail by accident in whet-
ting the knife, about an eighth of an inch from the bottom, and about a fourth
from the top. This I measure that I may know the growth of nails ; the whole is
about five eighths of an inch."
Another of the same kind appears, Aug. 7, 1779, Partem brachii dextrl carpo prox-
hiian ct cniem pectoris circa mamillam dextram rasi ut notum Jieret qiianio tern ports pili ren-
ovarentur. '
And, " Aug. 15., 1783. I cut from the vine 41 leaves, which weighed five oz.
and a half and eight scruples : — I lay them upon my book-case, to see what weight
! hey will lose by drying."
DR. JOHNSON. 101
On the 20th of September I defended myself against 1779.
his suspicion of me, which I did not deserve ; and ^uit
added, " Pray, let us write frequently. A whim strikes 70.
me, that we should send off a sheet once a week, like
a stage-coach, whether it be full or not ; nay, though
it should be empty. The very sight of your hand-
writing would comfort me ; and were a sheet to be
thus sent regularly, we should much oftener convey
something, were it only a few kind words."
My friend Colonel James Stuart, second son of the
Earl of Bute, who had distinguished himself as a good
offi(;er of the Bedfordshire militia, had taken a publick-
spirited resolution to serve his country in its difficulties,
by raising a regular regiment, and taking the command
of it himself. This, in the heir of ihe immense prop-
erty of Wortley, was highly honourable. Having been
in Scotland recruiting, he obligingly asked me to ac-
company him to Leeds, then the head-quarters of his
corps ; from thence to London for a short time, and
afterwards to other places to which the regiment might
be ordered. Such an offer, at a time of the year, when
I had full leisure, was very pleasing ; especially as I
was to accompany a man of sterling good sense, in-
formation, discernment, and conviviality ; and was to
have a second crop, in one year, of London and John-
son. Of this I informed my illustrious friend, in char-
acteristical warm terms, in a letter dated the 30th of
September, from Leeds.
On Monday, October 4, I called at his house before
he was up. He sent for me to his bed side, and ex-
pressed his satisfaction at this incidental meeting, with
as much vivacity as if he had been in the gaiety of
youth. He called briskly, " Frank, go and get coffee,
and let us breakfast in splendour"
During this visit to London I had several interviews
with him, which it is unnecessary to distinguish par-
ticularly. 1 consulted him as to the appointment of
guardians to my children, in case of my death. " Sir,
(said he,) do not appoint a number of guardians.
When there are many, they trust one to another, and
the business is neglected. I would advise you to
102 THE LIFE OF
1779. choose only one ; let him be a man of respectable
"^ry character, who, for his own credit, will do what is
70, * right ; let him be a rich man, so that he may be under
no temptation to take advantage ; and let him be a
man of business, who is used to conduct affairs with
abihty and expertness, to whom, therefore, the execu-
tion of the trust will not be burdensome."
On Sunday, October 10, we dined together at Mr,
Strahan's. The conversation having turned on the
prevailing practice of going to the East-Indies in quest
of wealth ; — Johnson. " A man had better have ten
thousand pounds at the end of ten years passed in Eng-
land, than twenty thousand pounds at the end of ten
years passed in India, because you must compute what
you give for money ; and a man who has lived ten years
in India, has given up ten years of social comfort and
all those advantages which arise from living in Eng-
land. The ingenious Mr. Brown, distinguished by the
name of Capabilitij Browii, told me, that he was once
at the seat of Lord Clive, who had returned from India
with great wealth ; and that he shewed him at the
door of his bed-chamber a large chest, which he said
he had once had full of gold ; upon which Brown ob-
served, ' I am glad you can bear it so near your bed-
chamber."
We talked of the state of the poor in London. —
Johnson. " Saunders Welch, the Justice, who was once
High-Constable of Holborn, and had the best opportu-
nities of knowing the state of the poor, told me, that I
under- rated the number, when I computed that twenty
a week, that is, above a thousand a year, died of hun-
ger ; not absolutely of immediate hunger ; but of the
wasting and other diseases which are the consequences
of hunger. This happens only in so large a place as
London, where people are not known. What we are
told about the great sums got by begging, is not true :
the trade is overstocked. And, you may depend upon
it, there are many who cannot get work. A particular
kind of manufacture fails : Those who have been used
to work at it, can, for some time, work at nothing else.
You meet a man begging ; you charge him with idle-
I
DR. JOHNSON. 103
ness : he says, ' I am willing to labour. Will you give 1779.
me work V — ' I cannot.' — Why then you have no right ^J^
to charge me with idleness." 70^ '
We left Mr. Strahan's at seven, as Johnson had said
he intended to go to evening prayers. As we walked
along, he complained of a little gout in his toe, and said,
I shan't go to prayers to-night ; 1 shall go to-morrow :
Whenever I miss church on a Sunday, I resolve to go
another day. But I do not always do it." This was a
fair exhibition of that vibration between pious resolu-
tions and indolence, which many of us have too often
experienced.
I went home with him, and we had a long quiet
conversation.
I read him a letter from Dr. Hugh Blair concerning
Pope, (in writing whose life he was now employed,)
which 1 shall insert as a literary curiosity.^
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" In the year 1763, being at London, I was carried
by Dr. John Blair, Prebendary of Westminster, to dine
at old Lord Bat hurst's ; where we found the late Mr.
Mallet, Sir James Porter, who had been Ambassadour
at Constantinople, the late Dr. Macaulay, and two or
three more. The conversation turning on Mr. Pope,
Lord Bathurst told us, that ' The Essay on Man' was
originally composed by Lord Bolingbroke in prose, and
that Mr. Pope did no more than put it into verse : that
he had read Lord Bolingbroke's manuscript in his own
3 The Rev. Dr. Law, Bishop of Carlisle, in the preface to his valuable edition of
Archbishop King's " Essay on the Origin of Evil," mentions that the principles
maintained in it had been adopted by Pope in his " Essay on Man ;" and adds, "The
. fact, notwithstanding such denial, (Bishop Warburton's) might have been strictly
verified by an unexceptionable testimony, -viz. that of the late Lord Bathurst, who
saw the very same system of the to fiexriov (taken from the Archbishop) in Lord
Bolingbroke's own hand, lying before Mr. Pope, while he was composing his Es-
say." This is respectable evidence ; but that of Dr. Blair is more direct from the
fountain-head, as well as more full. Let me add to it that of Dr. Joseph Warton ;
" The late Lord Bathurst repeatedly assured me that he had read the whole scheme
of ' the Essay on man,' in the hand-writing of Bolingbroke, and drawn up in a
series of propositions, which Pope was to versify and illustrate." Essay on the Ge-
nius and Writings of Pope, vol. ii. p. 62.
104 THE LIFE OF
1779. hand-writing ; and remembered well, that he was at a
,£tat ^^^^ whether most to admire the elegance of Lord Bol-
70. ' ingbroke's prose, or the beauty of Mr. Pope's verse.
When Lord Bathurst told this, Mr. Mallet bade me
attend, and remember this remarkable piece of informa-
tion ; as, by the course of Nature, 1 might survive his
Lordship, and be a witness of his having said so. The
conversation was indeed too remarkable to be forgot-
ten. A few days after, meeting with you, who were
then also at London, you will remember that I men-
tioned to you what had passed on this subject, as 1-was
much struck with this anecdote. But what ascertains
my recollection of it beyond doubt, is, that being
accustomed to keep a journal of what passed when f
was at London, which i wrote out every evening, J
find the particulars of the above information, just as I
have now given them, distinctly marked ; and am
thence enabled to fix this conversation to have passed
on Friday, the 22d of April, 176.3.
" I remember also distinctly, (though I have not for
this the authority of my journal,) that the conversa-
tion going on concerning Mr. Pope, 1 took notice of a
report which had been sometimes propagated that he
did not understand Greek. Lord Bathurst said to me
that he knew that to be false ; for that part of the
Iliad was translated by Mr. Pope in his house in the
country ; and that in the morning when they assem-
bled at breakfast, Mr. Pope used frequently to repeat,
with great rapture, the Greek liaes which he had been
translating, and then to give them his version of them,
and to compare them together.
" If these circumstances can be of any use to Dr.
Johnson, you have my full liberty to give them to
him. 1 beg you will, at the same time, present to
him my most respectful compliments, with best wishes
for his success and fame in all his literary undertak-
ings. I am, with great respect, my dearest Sir,
" Your most affectionate,
" And obliged humble servant,
" Broughton Park, Sept, 21, 1779. " Hugh Blair."
DR. JOHNSON. 105
Johnson. " Depend upon it, Sir, this is too strongly 1779-
stated. Pope may have had from Bohngbroke the phi- Jiat^
losophick stamina of his Essay ; and admitting this to 70. '
be true, Lord Bathurst did not intentionally falsify.
But the thing is not true in the latitude that Blair
seems to imagine ; we are sure that the poetical ima-
gery, which makes a great part of the poem, was Pope's
own. It is amazing, Sir, what deviations there are
from precise truth, in the account which is given of al-
most every thing. I told Mrs. Thrale, ' You have so
little anxiety about truth, that you never tax your
memory with the exact thing. Now what is the use
of the memory to truth, if one is careless of exact-
ness ? Lord Hailes's ' Annals of Scotland' are very
exact ; but they contain mere dry particulars. They
are to be considered as a Dictionary. You know such
things are there ; and may be looked at when you
please. Robertson paints ; but the misfortune is, you
are sure he does not know the people whom he paints ;
so you cannot suppose a likeness. Characters should
never be given by an historian, unless he knew the
people whom he describes, or copies from those who
knew them."
BoswELL. " Why, Sir, do people play this trick
which I observe now, when I look at your grate, put-
ting the shovel against it to make the fire burn \"
Johnson. " They play the trick, but it does not make
the fire burn.* There is a better ; (setting the poker
perpendicularly up at right angles with the grate.) In
days of superstition they thought, as it made a cross
with the bars, it would drive away the witch."
BoswELL. " By associating with you, Sir, I am al-
ways getting an accession of wisdom. But perhaps a
man, after knowing his own character — the limited
strength of his own mind, should not be desirous of
having too much wisdom, considering, quid -caleant
humeri, how little he can cany." Johnson. " Sir, be
as wise as vou can ; let a man be aliis Icetus^ sapiens
sibi :
* [It certainly does make the fire bum : by repelling the air, it throws a blast
on the fire, and so performs the part in some degree ef a blower or bellows. K."]
VOL. III. H
J»
106 THE LIFE OF
1779- ' Though pleas'd to see the dolphins play,
2J^ ' I mind my compass and my way/ "^
70.
You may be wise in your study in the morning, and
gay in company at a tavern in the evening, livery
man is to take care of his own wisdom and his own
virtue, without minding too much what others think.
He said, " Dodsley first mentioned to me the
scheme of an English Dictionary ; but I had long
thought of it." BoswELL. " You did not know what
you were undertaking." Johnson. " Yes, Sir, 1 knew
very well what 1 was undertaking, — and very well how
to do it, — and have done it very well." Boswell.
" An excellent climax ! and it has availed you. In
your Preface you say, ' What would it avail me in
this gloom of solitude ?' You have been agreeably
mistaken."
In his life of Milton, he observes, " I cannot but
remark a kind of respect, perhaps unconsciously, paid
to this great man by his biographers : every house in
which he resided is historically mentioned, as if it
were an injury to neglect naming any place that he
honoured by his presence." I had, before I read this
observation, been desirous of shewing that respect to
Johnson, by various enquiries. Finding him this
evening in a very good humour, 1 prevailed on him to
give me an exact list of his places of residence, since
he entered the metropolis as an authour, which I sub-
join in a note.* »
■• ThjB spleen, a Poem.
* 1. Exeter-street, off Catlierine-street, Strand.
2. Greenwich.
3. Woodstock-street, near Hanover-square.
4. Castle-street, Cavendish-squjire, No. 6.
5. Strand.
6. Boswell-Court.
7. Strand, again.
8. Bow-street.
9. Holborn.
10. Fetter-lane.
1 1 . Holborn, again.
12. Gough-square.
13. Staple-Inn.
14. Gray's-Inn.
J 5. Inner Temple-lane, No. 1-
DR. JOHNSON. i07
I mentioned to him a dispute between a friend of i779.
mine and his lady, concerning conjugal infidehty, ^^
which my friend had maintained was by no means so 70.
bad in the husband, as in the wife. Johnson. " Your
friend was in the right, Sir. Between a man and his
Maker it is a ditferent question : but between a man
and his wife, a husband's infidehty is nothing. They
are connected by children, by fortune, by serious con-
siderations of community. Wise married women don't
trouble themselves about the infidelity of their hus-
bands." BoswELL. " To be sure there is a great
diflPerence between the offence of infidelity in a man
and that of his wife." Johnson. " The difference is
boundless. The man imposes no bastards upon his
wife."
Here it may be questioned, whether Johnson was
entirely in the right. I suppose it will not be contro-
verted, that the difference in the degree of criminality
is very great, on account of consequences : but still it
may be maintained, that, independent of moral obliga-
tion, infidelity is by no means a light offence in a hus-
band ; because it must hurt a delicate attachment, in
which a mutual constancy is implied, with such refined
sentiments as Massinger has exhibited in his play of
" The Picture." — Johnson probably at another time
would have admitted this opinion. And let it be kept
in remembrance, that he was very careful not to give
any encouragement to irregular conduct. A gentle-
man, not adverting to the distinction made by him
upon this subject, supposed a case of singular perverse-
ness in a wife, and heedlessly said, " That then he
thought a husband might do as he pleased with a safe
conscience." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, this is wild in-
deed (smiling ;) you must consider that fornication is
a crime in a single man ; and you cannot have more
liberty by being married."
He this evening expressed himself strongly against
the Roman Catholicks ; observing, " In every thing irt
which they differ from us, they are wrong." He was
16. Johnson's-court, No. 7. .'
17. Bolt-Court, No. 8.
108 THE LIFE OF
1779. even against the invocation of Saints ; in short, he was
£i^ in the humour of opposition.
70. Having regretted to him that 1 had learnt little
Greek, as is too generally the case in Scotland ; that I
had for a long time hardly applied at all to the study
of that noble language, and that I was desirous of
being told by him what method to follow ; he recom-
mended to me as easy helps, Sylvanus's " First Book
of the Iliad ;" Dawson's " L«=xicon to the Greek New
Testament ;" and " Hesiod," with Pasoris Lexicon at
the end of it.
On Tuesday, October 12, I dined with him at Mr.
Ramsay's, with Lord Newhaven, and some other com-
pany, none of whom I recollect, but a beautiful Miss
Graham,^ a relation of his Lordship's, who asked Dr.
Johnson to hob or nob with her. He was flattered by
such pleasing attention, and politely told her, he never
drank wine ; but if she would drink a glass of water,
he was much at her service. She accepted. " Oho,
Sir ! (said Lord Newhaven) you are caught." John-
son. " Nay, I do not see how I am caught ; but if I
am caught, I don't want to get free again. If 1 am
caught, I hope to be kept." Then when the two
glasses of water were brought, smiling placidly to the
young lady, he said, " Madam, let us reciprocate."
Lord Newhaven and Johnson carried on an argument
for some time, concerning the Middlesex election.
Johnson said, " Parliament may be considered as bound
by law, as a man is bound where there is nobody to
tie the knot. As it is clear that the House of Com-
mons may expel, and expel again and again, why not
allow of the power to incapacitate for that parliament,
rather than have a perpetual contest kept up between
parliament and the people." Lord Newhaven took the
i opposite side ; but respectfully said, " 1 speak with
great deference to you. Dr. Johnson ; 1 speak to be in-
structed." This had its full effect on my friend. He
bowed his head almost as low as the table, to a com-
plimenting nobleman ; and called out, " My Lord, my
' Now the lady of Sir Henry Dashwood, Bart.
DR. JOHNSON. 109
Lord, I do not desire all this ceremony ; let us tell our >779.
minds to one another quietly." After the debate was Jt^
over, he said, " I have got lights on the subject to-day, 70.
which 1 had not before." This was a great deal from
him, especially as he had written a pamphlet upon it.
He observed, " The House of Commons was origin-
ally not a privilege of the people, but a check, for the
Crown, on the House of Lords. 1 remember, Henry
the Eighth wanted them to do something ; they hesi-
tated in the morning, but did it in the afternoon. He
told them, ' It is well you did ; or half your heads
should have been upon Temple-bar.' But the House
of Commons is now no longer under the power of the
crown, and therefore must be bribed." He added " I
have no delight in talking of publick affairs."
Of his fellow-collegian, the celebrated Mr. George
Whitefield, he said, " Whitefield never drew as much
attention as a mountebank does ; he did not draw at-
tention by doing better than others, but by doing what
was strange. Were Astley to preach a sermon stand-
ing upon his head on a horse's back, he would collect a
multitude to hear him ; but no wise man would say he
had made a better sermon for that. 1 never treated
Whitefield's ministry with contempt ; 1 believe he did
good. He had devoted himself to the lower classes of
mankind, and among them he was of use. But when
familiarity and noise claim the praise due to knowledge,
art, and elegance, we must beat down such pretensions."
What I have preserved of his conversation during the
remainder of my stay in London at this time, is only
what follows : 1 told him that when I objected to keep-
ing company with a notorious infidel, a celebrated friend
of ours said to me, " 1 do not think that men who live
laxly in the world, as you and I do, can with propriety
assume such an authority : Dr. Johnson may, who is
uniformly exemplary in his conduct. But it is not very
consistent to shun an infidel to-day, and get drunk to-
morrow." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, this is sad reasoning.
Because a man cannot be right in all things, is he to
be right in nothing ] Because a man sometimes gets
no THE LIFE OF
1779. drunk, is he therefore to steal 1 This doctrine would
iEtaT ^^^y ^^^" bring a man to the gallows."
70. After all, however, it is a difficult question how far
sincere Christians should associate with the avowed en-
emies of religion ; for in the first place, almost every
man's mind may be more or less ' corrupted by evil
communications ;' secondly, the world may very nat-
urally suppose that they are not really in earnest in re-
ligion, who can easily bear its opponents ; and thirdly,
if the profane find themselves quite well received by
the pious, one of the checks upon an open declaration
of their infidelity, and one of the probable chances of
obliging them seriously to reflect, which their being
shunned would do, is removed.
He, 1 know not why, shewed upon all occasions an
aversion to go to Ireland, where 1 proposed to him that
we should make a tour. Johnsom. " It is the last
place where 1 should wish to travel.^' Boswell.
*' Should you not like to see Dublin, Sir ?" Johnson.
" No, Sir ; Dublin is only a worse capital." Boswell.
*' Is not the Giant's-causeway worth seemg?" Johnson".
** Worth seeing ? yes ; but not worth going to see."
Yet he had a kindness for the Irish nation, and thus
generously expressed himself to a gentleman from that
countr}'^, on the subject of an union which artful Poli-
ticians have often had in view — "Do not make an union
with us. Sir. We should unite with you, only to rob
you. We should have robbed the Scotch, if they had
had any thing of which we could have robbed them."
Of an acquaintance of ours, whose manners and ev-
ery thing about him, though expensive, were coarse, he
said, " Sir, you see in him vulgar prosperity."
A foreign minister of no very high talents, who had
been in his company for a considerable time quite over-
looked, happened luckily to mention that he had read
some of his " Rambler^ in Italian, and admired it
much. This pleased him greatly ; he observed that
the title had been translated // Genio errante^ though I
have been told it was rendered more ludicrously, //
Vagabondo ; and finding that this minister gave such a
proof of his taste, he was all attention to him, and on
DR. JOHNSON. Ill
the first remark which he made, however simple, ex- ^779.
claimed, "The Ambassadour says well; H^s, Excel- ^J^
lency observes — ;" And then he expanded and en- 70.
Tiched the little that had been said, in so strong a man-
ner, that it appeared something of consequence. This
was exceedingly entertaining to the company who were
present, and many a time afterwards it furnished a
pleasant topick of merriment : " The Ambassadour says
loelir became a laughable term of applause, when no
mighty matter had been expressed.
1 left London on Monday, October 18, and accom-
panied Colonel Stuart to Chester, where his regiment
was to lye for some time.
" MR. BOSWELL TO DR. JOHNSON.
" MY DEAR SIR, " Chester, October 22, 1779.
" It was not till one o'clock on Monday morning,
that Colonel Stuart and I left London ; for we chose to
bid a cordial adieu to Lord Mountstuart, who was to
set out on that day on his embassy to Turin. We
drove on excellently, and reached Lichfield in good
time enough that night. The Colonel had heard so
preferable a character of the George, that he would not
put up at the Three Crowns, so that 1 did not see our
host, Wilkins. We found at the George as good ac-
commodations as we couJd wish to have, and I fully
enjoyed the comfortable thought that / xvas in Lichjield
again. Next morning it rained very hard ; and as I
had much to do in a little time, I ordered a post-chaise,
and between eight and nin^ sallied forth to make a
round of visits. 1 first went to Mr. Green, hoping to have
had him to accompany me to all my other friends, but
he was engaged to attend the Bishop of Sodor and
Man, who was then lying at Lichfield very ill of the
gout. Having taken a hasty glance at the additions to
Green's museum, from which it was not easy to break
away, I next went to the Friery, where I at first occa-
sioned some tumult in the ladies, who were not pre-
pared to receive company so early : but my name, which
has bv wonderful fehcitv come to be closelv associated
112 THE LIFE OF
1779. with yours, soon made all easy ; and Mrs. Cobb and
^j^^ Miss Adey re-assumed their seats at the breakfast table,
70. which they had quitted with some precipitation. They
received me with the kindness of an old acquaintance ;
and after we had joined in a cordial chorus to your
praise, Mrs. Cobb gave me the high satisfaction of
hearing that you said, 'Boswell is a man who 1 believe
never left a house without leaving a wish for his return.*
And she afterwards added, that she bid you tell me,
that if ever I came to Lichfield, she hoped I would
take a bed at the Friery. From thence 1 drove to Pe-
ter Garrick's,^ where 1 also found a very flattering wel-
come. He appeared to me to enjoy his usual cheerful-
ness ; and he very kindly asked me to come when I
could, and pass a week with him. From Mr. Garrick's,
1 went to the Palace to wait on Mr. Seward. I was
first entertained by his lady and daughter, he himself
being in bed with a cold, according to his valetudinary
custom. But he desired to see me ; and I found him
dressed in his black gown, with a white flannel night-
gown above it ; so that he looked like a Dominican
friar. He was good-humoured and polite ; and under
his roof too my reception was very pleasing. 1 then
proceeded to Stow-hill, and first paid my respects to
Mrs. Gastrell, whose conversation 1 was not willing to
quit. But my sand-glass was now beginning to run low,
as I could not trespass too long on the Colonel's kind-
ness, who obligingly waited for me ; so I hastened to
Mrs. Aston's,5* whom I found much better than 1 feared
I should ; and there I met a brother-in-law of these la-
dies, who talked much of you, and very well too, as it
appeared to me. It then only remained to visit Mrs.
Lucy Porter, which I did, 1 really believe, with sincere
satisfaction on both sides. I am sure 1 was glad to see
her again ; and, as 1 take her to be very honest, I trust
she was glad to see me again ; for she expressed her-
self so, that 1 could not doubt of her being in earnest.
8 [This gentleman survived his brother David many years ; and died at Lichfield,
Dec. 12, 1795, setat. 86. A. C]
[A maiden sister of Johnson's favourite, Molly Aston, who married Captain
Brodie, of the Navy. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 113
What a great key-stone of kindness, my dear Sir, were 1779-
you that morning ! for we were all held together by our ^^
common attachment to you. I cannot say that 1 ever 70.
passed two hours with more self-complacency than I
did those two at Lichfield. Let me not entertain
any suspicion that this is idle vanity. Will not you
confirm me in my persuasion, that he who finds him-
self so regarded has just reason to be happy ?
" We got to Chester about midnight on Tuesday;
and here again I am in a state of much enjoyment.
Colonel Stuart and his officers treat me with ail the ci-
vility I could wish ; and I play my part admirably.
Lcetus aliis, sapiens sibi, the classical sentence which
you, I imagine, invented the other day, is exemplified
in my present existence. The Bishop, to whom I had
the honour to be known several years ago, shews me
much attention ; and I am edified by his conversation.
I must not omit to tell you, that his Lordship admires,
very highly, your Prefaces to the Poets. I am daily ob-
taining an extension of agreeable acquaintance, so that
I am kept in animated variety; and the study of the
place itself, by the assistance of books, and of the Bish-
op, is suflTicient occupation. Chester pleases my fancy
more than any town 1 ever saw. But 1 will not enter
upon it at all in this letter.
" How long I shall stay here I cannot yet say. I
told a very pleasing young lady,' niece to one of the
Prebendaries, at whose house 1 saw her, * 1 have come
to Chester, Madam, 1 cannot tell how; and far less can
I tell how I am to get away from it.* Do not think me
too juvenile. 1 beg it of you, my dear Sir, to favour
me with a letter while I am here, and add to the hap-
piness of a happy friend, who is ever, with affectionate
veneration,
" Most sincerely yours,
"James Boswell."
" If you do not write directly, so as to catch me here,
I shall be disappointed. Two lines from you will keep
my lamp burning bright."
' Miss Letitia Barnston
VOL. IIT. 15
114 THE LIFE OF
1779.
^tat.
70.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Why should you importune me so earnestly to
write ? Of what importance can it be to hear of distant
friends, to a man who finds himself welcome wherever
he goes, and makes new friends faster than he can want
them ? If to the delight of such universal kindness of
reception, any thing can be added by knowing that you
retain my good -will, you may indulge yourself in the
full enjoyment of that small addition.
" 1 am glad that you made the round of Lichfield
with so much success : the oftener you are seen, the
more you will be liked. It was pleasing to me to read
that Mrs. Aston was so well, and that Lucy Porter was
so glad to see you.
"In the place where you now are, there is much to
be observed ; and you will easily procure yourself skil-
ful directors. But what will you do to keep away the
black dog that worries you at home ? If you would, in
compliance with your father's advice, enquire into the
old tenures and old characters of Scotland, you would
certainly open to yourself many striking scenes of the
manners of the middle ages. The feudel system, in a
country half-barbarous, is naturally productive of great
anomalies in civil life. The knowledge of past times is
naturally growing less in all cases not of publick record ;
and the past time of Scotland ia^so unlike the present,
that it is already difficult for a Scotchman to image the
economy of his grandfather. Do not be tardy nor neg-
ligent ; but gather up eagerly what can yet be found."
" We have, I think, once talked of another project,
a History of the late insurrection in Scotland, with all
its incidents. Many falsehoods are passing into uncon-
tradicted history. Voltaire, who loved a striking story,
has told what he could not find to be true.
2 1 have a valuable collection made by my Father, which, with some additions
and illustrations of my own, I intend to publish. I have some hereditary claim to
be an Antiquary ; not only from my Father, but as being descended, by the moth-
er's side, from the able and learned Sir John Skene, whose merit bids defiance to
all the attempts which have been made to lessen his fame.
DR. JOHNSON. 115
'' You may make collections for either of these pro- 1779-
jects, or foi* both, as opportunities occur, and digest ^^
your materials at leisure. The great direction which 70.
Burton has left to men disordered like you, is this, Be
7iot solitary ; be not idle : which 1 would thus modify ;
— If you are idle, be not solitary ; if you are solitary,
be not idle.
" There is a letter for you, from
" Your humble servant,
" London^ October 27, 1779. " Sam. Johnson."
" to dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" MY DEAR SIR, " Carlisle, Nov. 7, 1779-
" That I should importune you to write to me
at Chester, is not wonderful, when you consider what
an avidity 1 have for delight ; and that the amor of
pleasure, like the amor nummi, increases in proportion
with the quantity which we possess of it. Your let-
ter, so full of polite kindness and masterly counsel,
came like a large treasure upon me, while already
glittering with riches. I was quite enchanted at Ches-
ter, so that I could with difficulty quit it. But the
enchantment was the reverse of that of Circe ; for so
far was there from being any thing sensual in it, that I
was all mind. I do not mean all reason only ; for my
fancy was kept finely in play. And why not ? — If
you please I will send you a copy, or an abridgement
of my Chester journal, which is truly a log-book of
felicity.
" The Bishop treated me with a kindness which wa^
very flattering. I told him, that you regretted you had
seen so little of Chester. His Lordship bade me tell
you, that he should be glad to shew you rliore of it.
1 am proud to find the friendship with which you hon-
our me is known in so many places.
" 1 arrived here late last night. Our friend the
Dean, has been gone from hence some months ; but I
am told at my inn, that he is very populous (popular.)
However, 1 found Mr, Law, the Archdeacon, son to
the Bishop, and with him 1 have breakfasted and dined
116 THE LIFE OF
1779. very agreeably. I got acquainted with him at the
assizes here, about a year and a halt" ago ; he is a man
of great variety of knowledge, uncommon genius, and,
1 believe, sincere religion. 1 received the holy sacra-
ment in the Cathedral in the morning, this being the
first Sunday in the month ; and was at prayers there
in the morning. It is divinely cheering to me to think
that there is a Cathedral so near Auchinleck ; and I
row leave Old England in such a state of mind as 1 am
thankful to God for granting me.
" The black dog that worries me at home I cannot
but dread ; yet as 1 have been for $ome time past in a
military train, 1 trust 1 shall repulse him. To hear
from you will animate me like the sound of a trumpet,
I therefore hope, that soon after my return to the
northern field, I shall receive a iew lines from you.
" Colonel Stuart did me the honour to escort me in
his carriage to shew me Liverpool, and from thence
back again to Warrington, where we parted. ^ In
justice to my valuable wife, 1 must inform you she
wTOte to me, that as 1 was so happy, she would not be
so selfish as to wish me to return sooner than business
absolutely required my presence. She made my clerk
write to n)e a post or two after to the same purpose,
by commission from her ; and this day a kind letter
from her met me at the Post-Office here, a(;quainting
me that she and the little ones were well, and express-
ing all their wishes for my return home. 1 am, more
and more, my dear Sir, ^
" Your affectionate
*' And obliged humble servant,
" James Bos well."
" to JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Your last letter was not only kind but fond.
But I wish you to get rid of all intellectual excesses,
^ His regfiment was afterwards ordered to Jamaica, where he accompanied \t,
and almost lost his life by the climate. This impartial order I should think a suffi-
cient refutation of the idle rumour that " there was still something behind the
throne greater than the tlirone itself."
DR. JOHNSON. 117
and neither to exalt your pleasures, nor aggravate your 1779.
vexations, beyond their real and natural state. Why ^J^tat!
should you not be as happy at Edinburgh as at Chester? 70.
In culpa est animus^ qui se non ejjugit usquam. Please
yourself with your wife and children, and studies, and
practice.
" I have sent a petition * from Lucy Porter, with
which I leave it to your discretion whether it is proper
to comply. Return me her letter, which 1 have sent,
that you may know the whole case, and not be seduc-
ed to any thing that you may afterwards repent. Miss
Doxy perhaps you know to be Mr. Garrick's niece.
" If Dean Percy can be popular at Carlisle, he may
be very happy. He has in his disposal two livings,
each equal, or almost equal in value to the deanery ;
he may take one himself, and give the other to his son.
" How near is the Cathedral to Auchinleck, that
you are so much delighted with it ? It is, I suppose,
at least an hundred and fifty miles off. However, if
you are pleased, it is so far well.
" Let me know what reception you have from your
father, and the state of his health. Please him as much
as you can, and add no pain to his last years.
" Of our friends here 1 can recollect nothing to tell
you. I have neither seen nor heard of Langton. Beau-
clerk is just returned from Brighthelmston, I am told,
much better. Mr. Thrale and his family are still there ;
and his health is said to be visibly improved ; he has
not bathed, but hunted.
" At Bolt-court there is much malignity, but of late
little open hostihty.^ I have had a cold, but it is gone.
" Make my compliments to ^Irs. Boswell, &c.
" 1 am, Sir,
" Your humble servant,
" London, Nov. 13, 1779- " Sam. Johnson."
On November 22, and December 21,1 wrote to him
from Edinburgh, giving a very favourable report of the
■* Requesting me to enquire concerning the family of a gentleman who was then
paying his addresses to Miss Doxy.
s See page 76.
US THE LIFE OF
i7$o. family of Miss Doxy's lover ; — that after a good deal
j^Jl^ of enquiry 1 had discovered the sister of Mr. Francis
71. Stewart, one of his amanuenses when writing his Dic-
tionary ; — that 1 had, as desired by him, paid her a
guinea for an old pocket-book of her brother's which
he had retained ; and that the good woman, who was
in very moderate circumstances, but contented and
placid, wondered at his scrupulous and liberal honesty,
and received the guinea as if sent her by Providence.
—That I had repeatedly begged of him to keep his
promise to send me his letter to Lord Chesterfield,
and that this memento^ like Delenda est Carthago^
must be in every letter that I should write to him, till
I had obtained my object.
In 1780, the world was kept in impatience for the
completion of his " Lives of the Poets," upon which
he was employed so far as his indolence allowed him
to labour.
I wrote to him on January 1, and March 13, sending
him my notes of Lord Marchmont's information con-
cerning Pope ;— complaining that 1 had not heard from
him for almost four months, though he was two letters
in my debt ; — that I had suffered again from melan-
choly ; — hoping that he had been in so much better
company, (the Poets,) that he had not time to think of
his distant friends ; for if that were the case, 1 should
have some recom pence for my uneasiness ; — that the
state of my affairs did not admit of my coming to Lon-
don this year ; and begging he would return me Gold-
smith's two poems, with his lines marked.
His friend Dr. Lawrence having now suffered the
greatest affliction to which a man is liable, and which
Johnson himself had felt in the most severe manner ;
Johnson wrote to him in an admirable strain of sympar
thy and pious consolation.
" TO DR. LAWRENCE.
'' DEAR SIR,
" At a time when all your friends ought to shew
their kindness, and with a character which ous:ht to
DR. JOHNSON. 119
make all that know you your friends, you may wonder 1780.
that you have yet heard nothing from me. Ex^.
" 1 have been hindered by a vexatious and incessant 71.*
cough, for which within these ten days 1 have been bled
once, fasted four or five times, taken physick five times,
and opiates, I think, six. This day it seems to remit.
" The loss, dear Sir, which you have lately suffered,
I felt many years ago, and know therefore how much
has been taken from you, and how little help can be
had from consolation. He that outlives a wife whom
he has long loved, sees himself disjoined from the only
mind that has the same hopes, and fears, and interest ;
from the only companion with whom he has shared
much good or evil ; and with whom he could set his
mind at liberty, to retrace the past or anticipate the
future. The continuity of being is lacerated ; the set-
tled course of sentiment and action is stopped ; and
life stands suspended and motionless, till it is driven by
external causes into a new channel. But the time of
suspense is dreadful.
" Our first recourse in this distressed solitude, is,
perhaps for want of habitual piety, to a gloomy acqui-
escence in necessity. Of two mortal beings, one must
lose the other ; but surely there is a higher and better
comfort to be drawn from the consideration of that
Providence which watches over all, and a belief that
the living and the dead are equally in the hands of God,
who will reunite those whom he has separated ; or
who sees that it is best not to reunite.
" I am, -dear Sir,
" Your most affectionate,
" And most humble servant,
" January 20, 1780. " Sam. Johnson.^'
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Well, I had resolved to send you the Chester-
field letter ; but I will write once again without it.
Never impose tasks upon mortals. To require two
things is the way to have them both undone.
120 THE LIFE OF
1780. " For the difficulties which you mention m your af-
^J^ fairs, I am sorry ; but difficulty is now very general :
71, * it is not therefore less grievous, for there is less hope
of help. I pretend not to give you advice, not know-
ing the state of your affairs ; and general counsels about
prudence and frugality would do you little good. You
are, however, in the right not to increase your own
perplexity by a journey hither ; and 1 hope that by
staying at home you will please your father.
" Poor dear Beauclerk^ — nec^ ut soles^ dabis joca.
His wit and his folly, his acuteness and maliciousness,
his merriment and reasoning, are now over. Such
another will not often be found among mankind. He
directed himself to be buried by the side of his mother,
an instance of tenderness which 1 hardly expected. He
has left his children to the care of Lady Di, and if she
dies, of Mr. Langton, and of Mr. Leicester his relation,
and a man of good character. His library has been
offered to sale to the Russian ambassadour.^
" Dr. Percy, notwithstanding all the noise of the news-
papers, has had no literary loss.^ Clothes and movea-
bles were burnt to the value of about one hundred
pounds ; but his papers, and I think his books, were
all preserved.
" Poor Mr. Thrale has been in extreme danger from
an apoplectical disorder, and recovered, beyond the ex-
pectation of his physicians ; he. is now at Bath, that his
mind may^be quiet, and Mrs. Thrale and Miss are with
him.
*' Having told you what has happened to your friends,
let me say something to you of yourself. You are al-
ways complaining of melancholy, and 1 conclude from
those complaints that you are fond of it. No man talks
of that which he is desirous to conceal, and every man
desires to conceal that of which he is ashamed. Do
not pretend to deny it ; manifestum habemus furem ;
*> [The Hon. Topham Beauclerk died March 11, 1780. M.]
' [Mr. Beauclerk's Library was sold by publick auction in April and May 1781,
for 50111. M.]
' By a fire in Northumberland-house, where he had an apartment, in which I
have passed many an agreeable hour.
DR. JOHNSON. 121
make it an invariable and obligatory law to yourself, 1780.
never to mention your Own mental diseases ; if you ^'^
are never to speak of them you will think on them 71. *
but little, and if you think little of them, they will mo-
lest you rarely. When you talk of them, it is plain
that you want either praise or pity ; for praise there is
no room, and pity will do you no good ; therefore, from
this hour speak no more, think no more, about them.
" Your transaction with Mrs. Stewart gave me great
satisfaction ; 1 am much obliged to you for your atten-
tion. Do not lose sight of her ; your countenance may
be of great credit, and of consequence of great advan-
tage to her. The memory of her brother is yet fresh
in my mind ; he was an ingenious and worthy man.
" Please to make my compliments to your lady and
to the young ladies. 1 should like to see them, pretty
loves.
" I am, dear Sir,
" Your's affectionately,
'' April d>, \7^Q, " Sam. Johnson."
Mrs, Thrale being now at Bath with her husband,
the correspondence between Johnson and her was car-
ried on briskly. I shall present my readers with one of
her original letters to him at this time, which will
amuse them probably more than those well-written but
studied epistles which she has inserted in her collection,
because it exhibits the easy vivacity of their literary in-
tercourse. It is also of value as a key to Johnson's an-
swer, which she has printed by itself, and of which I
shall subjoin extracts.
" MRS. THRALE TO DR. JOHNSON.
"I HAD a very kind letter from you yesterday,
dear Sir, with a most circumstantial date. You took
trouble with my circulating letter, Mr. Evans writes me
word, and I thank you sincerely for so doing : one
might do mischief else not being on the spot.
" Yesterday's evening was passed at Mrs. Montagu's:
there was Mr. Melmoth ; 1 do not like him though,
VOL. TIT. \f*
122 THE LIFE OF
1 780. nor he me ; it was expected we should have pleased
"^^ each other ; he is, however, just Tory enough to hate
71. the bishop of Peterborough ^ for Whiggism, and Whig
enough to abhor you for Toryism.
" Mrs. Montagu flattered him finely ; so he had a
good afternoon on't. This evening we spend at a con-
cert. Poor Queeney's' sore eyes have just released
her : she had a long confinement, and could neither
read nor write, so my master^ treated her very good-
naturedly with the visits of a young woman in this town,
a taylor's daughter, who professes musick, and teaches
so as to give six lessons a day to ladies, at five and
three-pence a lesson. Miss Burney says, she is a great
performer ; and 1 respect the wench for getting her
living so prettily ; she is very modest and pretty-man-
nered, and not seventeen years old.
" You live in a fine whirl indeed ; if I did not write
regularly you would half forget me, and that would be
very wrong, for IJei^ my regard for you in my Jace last
night, when the criticisms were going on.
" This morning it was all connoisseurship ; we went
to see some pictures painted by a gentleman-artist, Mr.
Taylor, of this place ; my master makes one every
where, and has got a good dawling companion to ride
with him now. *******, fj^ looks
well enough, but I have no notion of health for a man
whose mouth cannot be sewed up. Burney and 1 and
Queeney teaze him every meal he eats, and Mrs. Mon-
tagu is quite serious with him ; but what can one do ?
He will eat, I think, and if he does eat I know he will
not live ; it makes me very unhappy, but 1 must bear
it. Let me always have your friendship. I am, most
sincerely, dear Sir,
" Your faithful servant,
« H. L. T."
''Bath, Fridai), April 28."
' Dr. John Hinchliffe.
I A kind of nick-name given to Mrs. Thrale's eldest daughter, whose name be-
iag Esther slie might be assimilated to a Qiieeh.
' Mr. Thrale.
DR. JOHNSON. 123
" DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. THRALE. ^--Z
" DEAREST MADAM,
"Mr. Thrale never will live abstinently, till he
can persuade himself to live by rule. 3 ******
Encourage, as you can, the musical girl.
" Nothing is more common than mutual dislike,
where mutual approbation is particularly expected.
There is often on both sides a vigilance not over-be-
nevolent ; and as attention is strongly excited, so that
nothing drops unheeded, any difference in taste or
opinion, and some difference where there is no re-
straint will commonly appear, immediately generates
dislike.
" Never let criticisms operate on your face or your
mind ; it is very rarely that an authour is hurt by his
criticks. The blaze of reputation cannot be blown
out, but it often dies in the socket ; a very few names
may be considered as perpetual lamps that shine un-
consumed. From the authour of ' Fitzosborne's let-
ters^ I cannot think myself in much danger. I met
him only once about thirty years ago, and in some
small dispute reduced him to whistle ; having not seen
him since, that is the last impression. Poor Moore,
the fabulist, was one of the company.
" Mrs. Montagu's long stay, against her own inclina-
tion, is very convenient. You would, by your own
confession, want a companion ; and she is par pluri-
bus ; conversing with her you m^iyjind variety in one.
" London, May 1, 1780.
On the 2d of May I wrote to him, and requested
that we might have another meeting somewhere in the
North of England, in the autumn of this year.
From Mr. Langton 1 received soon after this time a
letter, of which 1 extract a passage, relative both to
Mr. Beauclerk and Dr. Johnson.
" The melancholy information you have received
concerning Mr. Beauclerk's death is true. Had his
' I have taken the liberty to leave out a few lines.
l'-2i: THE LIFE OF
1780. talents been directed in any sufficient degree as they
^t<u ought, 1 have always been strongly of opinion that
71. they were calculated to make an illustrious figure ;
and that opinion, as it had been in part formed upon
Dr. Johnson's judgement, receives more and more
confirmation by hearing, what since his death, Dr.
Johnson has said concerning them ; a few evenings
ago, he was at Mr. Vesey's, where Lord Althorpe, who
was one of a numerous company there, addressed Dr.
Johnson on the subject of Mr. Beauclerk's death, say-
ing, ' Our Club has had a great loss since we met last.'
He replied, ' A- loss, that perhaps the whole nation
could not repair !' The Doctor then went on to speak
of his endowments, and particularly extolled the won-
derful ease with which he uttered what was highly
excellent. He said, ' that no man ever was so free
when he was going to say a good thing, from a look
that expressed that it was coming ; or, when he had
said it, from a look that expressed that it had come.'
At Mr. Thrale's, some days before when we were talk-
ing on the same subject, he said, referring to the same
idea of his wonderful facility, ' That Beauclerk's talents
were those which he had felt himself more disposed to
envy, than those of any whom he had known.'
".On the evening I have spoken of above, at Mr.
Vesey's, you would have been much gratified, as it
exhibited an instance of the high importance in which
Dr. Johnson's character is held, 1 think even beyond
any I ever before was witness to. The company con-
sisted chiefly of ladies, among whom were the Duchess
Dowager of Portland, the Duchess of Beaufort, whom
I suppose from her rank, I must name before her
mother Mrs. Boscawen, and her elder sister Mrs. Lew-
son, who was likewise there ; Lady Lucan, Lady Cler-
mont, and others of note both for their station and
understandings. Among the gentlemen were Lord
Althorpe, whom I have before named, Lord Macart-
ney, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Lord Lucan, Mr. Wraxal,
whose book you have probably seen, ' The Tour to
the Northern Parts of Europe ;' a very agreeable in-
genious man ; Dr. Warren, Mr, Pepys, the Master in
DR. JOHNSON. 195
Chancery, whom I beheve you know, and Dr. Ber- ^780.
nard, the Provost of Eton. As soon as Dr. Johnson '^^
was come in, and had taken a chair, the company 71.
began to collect round him till they became not less
than four, if not five, deep ; those behind standing,
and listening over the heads of those that were sitting
near him. The conversation for some time was chiefly
between Dr. Johnson and the Provost of Eton, while
the others contributed occasionally their remarks.
Without attempting to detail the particulars of the
conversation, which perhaps if 1 did, 1 should spin my
account out to a tedious length, 1 thought, my dear
Sir, this general account of the respect with which our
valued friend was attended to, might be acceptable.^'
"to the reverend dr. farmer.
" SIR, "Mai/ 2o, 1780.
" I KNOW your disposition to second any literary
attempt, and therefore venture upon the liberty of en-
treating you to procure from College or University
registers, all the dates or other informations which
they can supply relating to Ambrose Philips, Broome,
and Gray, who were all of Cambridge, and of whose
lives I am to give such accounts as 1 can gather. Be
pleased to forgive this trouble from. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Sam. Johnson."
While Johnson was thus engaged in preparing a
delightful literary entertainment for the world, the
tranquillity of the metropolis of Great Britain was un-
expectedly disturbed, by the most horrid series of
outrage that ever disgraced a civilized country. A
relaxation of some of the severe penal provisions
against our fellow-subjects of the Catholick commu-
nion had been grantjed by the legislature, with an
opposition so inconsiderable, that the genuine mildness
of Christianity united with liberal policy, seemed to
have become general in this island. But a dark and
malignant spirit of persecution soon shewed itself, in
126 THE LIFE OF
1780. an unworthy petition for the repeal of the wise and
2J^ humane statute. That petition was brought forward
71. ' by a mob, with the evident purpose of intimidation,
and was justly rejected. But the attempt was accom-
panied and followed by such daring violence as is
unexampled in history. Of this extraordinary tumult,
Dr. Johnson has given the following concise, lively,
and just account in his " Letters to Mrs. Thrale :"*
"On Friday, 5 the good Protestants met in Saint
George^s-Fields, at the summons of Lord George Gor-
don, and marching to Westminster, insulted the Lords
and Commons, who all bore it with great tameness.
At night the outrages began by the demolition of the
mass-house by Lincoln's-lnn.
*' An exact journal of a week's defiance of govern-
ment I cannot give you. On Monday Mr. Strahan,
who had been insulted, spoke to Lord Mansfield, who
had I think been insulted too, of the licentiousness of
the populace ; and his Lordship treated it as a very
slight irregularity. On Tuesday night they pulled
down Fielding's house, ^ and burnt his goods in the
street. They had gutted on Monday Sir George
Savile's house, but the building was saved. On Tues-
day evening, leaving Fielding's ruins, they went to
Newgate to demand their companions, who had been
seized demohshing the chapel. The keeper could not
release them but by the Mayor's permission, which he
went to ask ; at his return he found all the prisoners
released, and Newgate in a blaze. They then went to
Bloomsbury, and fastened upon Lord Mansfield's house,
which they pulled down ; and as for his goods, they
totally burnt them. They have since gone to Caen-
wood, but a guard was there before them. They plun-
dered some Papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house
in Moorfield's the same night."
* Vol. II. p. 143, et seq. I have selected passages from several letters, without
mentioning dates.
^ June 2.
' [This is not quite correct. Sir John Fielding was, I think, then dead. It was
Justice Hyde's house in St. Martin's-street, Leicester-Fields, that was gutted, and
his goods burnt in the street. B.]
DR. JOHNSON. 127
" On Wednesday I walked with Dr. Scot to look »780.
at Newgate, and found it in ruins, with the fire yet ^J^
glowing. As 1 went by the Protestants were plunder- 71.
ing the Sessions-house at the Old-Bailey. There were
not, I believe, a hundred ; but they did their work at
leisure, in full security, without sentinels, without
trepidation, as men lawfully employed in full day.
Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On
Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King's-
Bench, and the Marshalsea, and Wood-street Comp-
ter, and Clerkenwell Bridewell, and released all the
prisoners.
" At night they set fire to the Fleet, and to the King's-
Bench, and 1 know not how many other places ; and
one might see the glare of conflagration fill the sky
from many parts. The sight was dreadful. Some peo-
ple were threatened : Mr. Strahan advised me to take
care of myself. Such a time of terrour you have been
happy in not seeing.
" The King said in council, ' That the magistrates
had not done their duty, but that he would do his own ;^
and a proclamation was published, directing us to keep
our servants within doors, as the peace was now to be
preserved by force. The soldiers were sent out to
difl^erent parts, and the town is now [June 9,] at quiet.
" The soldiers are stationed so as to be every where
within call : there is no longer any body of rioters, and
the individuals are hunted to their holes, and led to pris-
on : Lord George was last night sent to the Tower.
Mr. John Wilkes was this day in my neighbourhood, to
seize the publisher of a seditious paper."
" Several chapels have been destroyed, and several
inoflensive Papists have been plundered, but the high
sport was to burn the gaols. This was a good rabble
trick. The debtors and the criminals vvere all set at
liberty ; but of the criminals, as has always happened,
many are already retaken ; and two pirates have surren-
dered themselves, and it is expected that they will be
pardoned."
" Government now acts again with its proper force ;
and we are all under the protection of the King and the
i28 THE LIFE OF
1780. law. I thought that it would be agreeable to you and
^tat ^y ^^^^^^ *<^ have my testimony to the publick security ;
71. and that you would sleep more quietly when 1 told
you that you are safe."
" There has, indeed, been an universal panick, from
which the King was the first that recovered. Without
the concurrence of his ministers, or the assistance of
the civil magistrates, he put the soldiers in motion, and
saved the town from calamities, such as a rabble's gov-
ernment must naturally produce."
" The publick has escaped a very heavy calamity.
The rioters attempted the Bank on Wednesday night,
but in no great number; and like other thieves, with
no great resolution. Jack Wilkes headed the party
that drove them away. It is agreed, that if they had
seized the Bank on Tuesday, at the height of the pan-
ick, when no resistance had been prepared, they might
have carried irrecoverably away whatever they had
found. Jack, who was always zealous for order and
decency, declares, that if he be trusted with power, he
will not leave a rioter ahve. There is, however, now
no longer any need of heroism or bloodshed ; no blue
ribband^ is any longer worn."
vSuch was the end of this miserable sedition, from
which London was delivered by the magnanimity of
the Sovereign himself. Whatever some may maintain,
I am satisfied that there was no combination or plan,
either domestick or foreign ; but that the mischief
spread by a gradual contagion of frenzy, augmented by
the quantities of fermented liquors, of which the de-
luded populace possessed themselves in the course of
their depredations.
I should think myself very much to blame, did I
here neglect to do justice to my esteemed friend Mr.
Akerman, the keeper of Newgate, who long discharged
a very important trust with an uniform intrepid firm-
ness, and at the same time a tenderness and a liberal
charity, which entitle him to be recorded with distin-
guished honour.
7 [Lord George Gordon and his followers, during these outrages, wore blue rib-
hands in their hats. Al.j
DR. JOHNSON. 129
Upon this occasion, from the timidity and negligence 1780.
of magistracy on the one hand, and the almost incred- ^J^
ible exertions of the mob on the other, the first prison 71.
of this great country was laid open, and the prisoners
set free ; but that Mr. Akerman, whose house was
burnt, would have prevented all this, had proper aid
been sent him in due time, there can be no doubt.
Many years ago, a fire broke out in the brick part
which was built as an addition to the old gaol of New-
gate. The Prisoners were in consternation and tumult,
calling out, " We shall be burnt — we shall be burnt !
Down with the gate ! — down with the gate !" Mr.
Akerman hastened to them, shewed himself at the
gate, and having, after some confused vociferation of
" Hear him — hear him !" obtained a silent attention,
he then calmly told them, that the gate must not go
down ; that they were under his care, and that they
should not be permitted to escape : but that he could
assure them, they need not be afraid of being burnt, for
that the fire was not in the prison, properly so called,
which was strongly built with stone; and that if they
would engage to be quiet, he himself would come in to
them, and conduct them to the further end of the build-
ing, and would not go out till they gave him leave.
To this proposal they agreed ; upon which Mr. Aker-
man, having first made them fall back from the gate,
went in, and with a determined resolution ordered the
outer turnkey upon no account to open the gate, even
though the prisoners (though he trusted they would
not) should break their word, and by force bring him-
self to order it. " Never mind me, (said he,) should
that happen." The prisoners peaceably followed him,
while he conducted them through passages of which
he had the keys, to the extremity of the gaol, which
was most distant from the fire. Havmg by this very
judicious conduct fully satisfied them that there was
no immediate risk, if any at all, he then addressed them
thus : " Gentlemen, you are now convinced that I
told you true. I have no doubt that the engines will
soon extinguish this fire ; if they should not, a suffi-
cient guard will come, and you shall be all taken out
VOL. III. 17
130 THE LIFE OF
1780. and lodged in the Compters. I assure you, upon my
^^J^ word and honour, that 1 have not a farthing insured.
71. I have left mv house that I might take care of you. I
will keep my promise, and stay with you if you insist
upon it ; but if you will allow me to go out and look
after my family and property, 1 shall be obhged to you."
Struck with his behaviour, they called out, " Master
Akerman, you have done bravely ; it was very kind in
you : by all means go and take care of your own con-
cerns." He did so accordingly, while they remained,
and were all preserved.
Johnson has been heard to relate the substance of
this story with high praise, in which he was joined by
Mr. Burke. My illustrious friend, speaking of Mr.
Akerman's kindness to his prisoners, pronounced this
eulogy upon his character : — " He who has long had
constantly in his view the worst of mankind, and is yet
eminent for the humanity of his disposition, must have
had it originally in a great degree, and continued to
cultivate it very carefully."
In the course of this month my brother David waited
upon Dr. Johnson, with the following letter of intro-
duction, which I had taken care should be lying ready
on his arrival in London.
" TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" MY DEAR SIR, " Edinburgh^ April 29 ^ 1780.
" This will be delivered to you by my brother
David, on his return from Spain. You will be glad to
see the man who vowed to ' stand by the old castle of
Auchinleck, with heart, purse, and sword ;' that roman-
tick family solemnity devised by me, of which you and
I talked with complacency upon the spot. I trust that
twelve years of absence have not lessened his feudal
attachment ; and that you will find him worthy of be-
ing introduced to your acquaintance.
" I have the honour to be,
" With affectionate veneration,
" My dear Sir,
" Your most faithful humble servant,
" James Boswell."
DR. JOHNSON. 131
Johnson received him very politely, and has thus men- ^780.
tioned him in a letter to Mrs. Thrale:« "1 have had
with me a brother of Bosvi'elPs, a Spanish merchant,"
whom the war has driven from his residence at Valen-
cia ; he is gone to see his friends, and will find Scotland
but a sorry place after twelve years' residence in a hap-
pier climate. He is a very agreeable man, and speaks
no Scotch."
" TO DR. BEATTIE, AT ABERDEEN.
" SIR,
" More years' than I have any delight to reckon,
have past since you and 1 saw one another : of this,
however, there is no reason for making any reprehenso-
ry complaint : — Sic fata ferunt. But methinks there
might pass some small interchang^e of regard between
us. If you say, that 1 ought to have written, I now
write ; and I write to tell you, that I have much kind-
ness for you and Mrs. Beattie ; and that I wish your
health better, and your life long. Try change of air,
and come a few degrees Southwards ; a softer climate
may do you both good ; winter is coming in ; and Lon-
don will be warmer, and gayer, and busier, and more
fertile of amusement, than Aberdeen.
" M}' health is better ; but that will be little in the
balance, when 1 tell you that Mrs. Montagu has been
very ill, and is, I doubt, now but weakly. Mr. Thrale
has been very dangerously disordered ; but is much bet-
ter, and I hope will totally recover. He has withdrawn
himself from business the whole summer. Sir Joshua
and his sister are well ; and Mr. Davies has got great
success as an authour,^' generated by the corruption of
8 Vol. II. p. 163. Mrs. Piozzi has omitted the name, she best knows why.
' Now settled in London.
' I had been five years absent from London. Beattie.
2 Meaning his entertaining " Memoirs of David Garrick, Esq." of which John-
•son (as Davies informed me) wrote the first sentence ; thus giving, as it were, the
key-note to the performance. It is, indeed very characteristical of its authour, be-
ginning with a maxim, and proceeding to illustrate. — " All excellence has a right
to be recorded. I shall, therefore, think it superfluous to apologize for writing the
life of a man, who by an uncommon assemblage of private virtues, adorned the
highest eminence in a publick profession."
13S THE LIFE OP
1780. a bookseller. More news I have not to tell you, and
"^^ therefore you must be contented with hearing, what I
71. know not whether you much wish to hear,' that I
am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Bolt-Court, Fleet-street^ " Sam. Johnson."
August 21, 1780.
"to JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
"I FIND you have taken one of your fits of taci-
turnity, and have resolved not to write till you are writ-
ten to ; it is but a peevish humour, but you shall have
your way.
" I have sat at home in Bolt-court, all the summer,
thinking to write the Lives, and a great part of the time
only thinking. Several of them, however, are done,
and I still think to do the rest.
" Mr. Thrale and his family have, since his illness,
passed their time first at Bath, and then at Brighthelms-
ton ; but I have been at neither place. I would have
gone to Lichfield if I could have had time, and 1 might
have had time if 1 had been active ; but 1 have missed
much, and done little.
" In the late disturbances, Mr. Thrale's house and
stock were in great danger ; the mob was pacified at
their first invasion, with about fifty pounds in drink
and meat ; and at their second, were driven away by
the soldiers. Mr. Strahan got a garrison into his
house, and maintained them a fortnight ; he was so
frighted that he removed part of his goods. Mrs.
Williams took shelter in the country.
" I know not whether I shall get a ramble this
autumn ; it is now about the time when we were trav-
elling. I have, however, better health than 1 had then,
and hope you and 1 may yet shew ourselves on some
J 1 wish he had omitted the suspicion expressed here, though I believe he meant
nothing but jocularity ; for though he and I differed sometimes in opinion, he well
knew how much I loved and revered him. Beattie.
DR. JOHNSON. 153
part of Europe, Asia, or Africa.* In the mean time I780.
let us play no trick, but keep each other's kindness by JJ^
all means in our power. ^i '
*' The bearer of this is Dr. Dunbar of Aberdeen,
who has written and published a very ingenious book,^
and who 1 think has a kindness for me, and will, when
he knows you, have a kindness for you.
" i suppose your little ladies are grown tall ; and
your son has become a learned young man. I love
them all, and 1 love your naughty lady, whom 1 never
shall persuade to love me. When the Lives are done,
I shall send them to complete her collection, but must
send them in paper, as for want of a pattern, 1 cannot
bind them to fit the rest.
" 1 am. Sir,
" Yours most affectionately,
" London, Aug. 21, 1780. " Sam. Johnson.^'
This year he wrote to a young clergyman in the
country the following very excellent letter, which con-
tains valuable advice to Divines in general :
" DEAR SIR,
" Not many days ago Dr. Lawrence shewed me
a letter, in which you make mention of me : 1 hope,
therefore, you will not be displeased that 1 endeavour
to preserve your good-will by some observations which
your letter suggested to me.
" You are afraid of falhng into some improprieties
in the daily service by reading to an audience that re-
quires no exactness. Your fear, i hope, secures you
from danger. They who contract absurd habits are
such as have no fear. It is impossible to do the same
thing very often, without some peculiarity of manner :
•• It will no doubt be remarked how he avoids the reiellious land of America.
This puts me in mind of an anecdote for which I am obliged to my worthy social
friend, Governour Richard Penn • " At one of Miss E. Hervey's assemblies, Dr.
Johnson was following her up and down the room ; upon which Lord Abington
observed to her, ' Your great friend is very fond of you ; you can go no where
without him.' ' Ay, (said she,) he would follow me to any part of the world.'—
Then (said the Earl,) ask him to go with you to /imerica."
i « Essays on the History of Mankind."
IJi THE LIFE OF
1780. but that manner may be good or bad, and a little care
jg^ will at least preserve it from being bad : to make it
71. good, there must, 1 think, be something of natural or
casual felicity, which cannot be taught.
" Your present method of making your sermons
seems very judicious. Few frequent preachers can be
supposed to have sermons more their own than yours
will be. Take care to register, somewhere or other,
the authours from whom your several discourses are
borrowed ; and do not imagine that you shall always
remember, even what perhaps you now think it impos-
sible to forget.
" My advice, however, is, that you attempt, from
time to time, an original sermon ; and in the labour of
composition, do not burden your mind with too much
at once ; do not exact from yourself at one effort of
excogitation, propriety of thought and elegance of ex-
pression. Invent first, and then embellish. The pro-
duction of something, where nothing was before, is an
act of greater energy than the expansion or decoration
of the thing produced. Set down diligently your
thoughts as they rise in the first words that occur ; and
"when you have matter, you will easily give it form :
nor, perhaps, will this method be always necessary ;
for by habit, your thoughts and diction will flow
together.
" The composition of sermons is not very difficult :
the divisions not only help the memory of the hearer,
but direct the judgement of the writer ; they supply
sources of invention, and keep every part in its proper
place.
*' What I like least in your letter is your account of
the manners of your parish ; from which I gather, that
it has been long neglected by the parson. The Dean
of Carlisle,^ who was then a little rector in Northamp-
tonshire, told me, that it might be discerned whether
or no there was a clergyman resident in a parish, by
the civil or savage manner of the people. Such a con-
gregation as yours stands in need of much reformation ;
•■ Dr. Percy, now Bishop of Droraore.
DR. JOHNSON. 135
and I would not have you think it impossible to reform 1730.
them. A very savage parish was civilized by a decay- ^gj^
ed gentlewoman, who came among them to teach a 71, '
petty school. My learned friend Dr. Wheeler of Ox-
ford, when he was a young man, had the care of a
neighbouring parish for fifteen pounds a year, which
he was never paid ; but he counted it a convenience,
that it compelled him to make a sermon weekly. One
woman he could not bring to the communion ; and
when he reproved or exhorted her, she only answered,
that she was no scholar. He was advised to set some
good woman or man of the parish, a little wiser than
herself, to talk to her in a language level to her mind.
Such honest, I may call them holy, artifices, must be
practised by every clergyman ; for all means must be
tried by which souls may be saved. Talk to your
people, however, as much as you can ; and you will
find, that the more frequently you converse with them
upon religious subjects, the more willingly they will
attend, and the more submissively they will learn. A
clergyman's diligence always makes him venerable. I
think I have now only to say, that in the momentous
work you have undertaken, 1 pray God to bless you.
" I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" BolUcourt, Aug. 30, 1780. " Sam. Johnson."
My next letters to him were dated August 24, Sep-
tember 6, and October 1, and from them 1 extract the
following passages :
" My brother David and I find the long indulged
fancy of our comfortable meeting again at Auchinleck,
90 well realized, that it in some degree confirms the
pleasing hope of 0 / preclarum diem ! in a future state.
" I beg that you may never again harbour a suspicion
of my indulgmg a peevish humour, or playing tricks ;
you will recollect, that when I confessed to you, that I
had once been intentionally silent to try your regard, I
gave you my word and honour that I would not do so
again.
136 THE LIFE OF
1780. " I rejoice to hear of your good state of health ; 1
"^^ pray God to continue it long. 1 have often said, that
71. 1 would willingly have ten years added to my life, to
have ten taken from yours ; I mean, that I would be
ten years older to have you ten years younger. But
let me be thankful for the years during which I have
enjoyed your friendship, and please myself with the
hopes of enjoying it many years to come in this state of
being, trusting always, that in another state, we shall
meet never to be separated. Of this we can form no
notion ; but the thought, though indistinct, is delight-
ful, when the mind is calm and clear.
" The riots in London were certainly horrible ; but
you give me no account of your own situation during
the barbarous anarchy. A description of it by Dr.
Johnson would be a great painting ;' you might write
another 'London, a Poem.'
" I am charmed with your condescending affection-
ate expression, ' let us keep each other's kindness by
all the means in our power ;' my revered Friend ! how
elevating is it to my mind, that 1 am found worthy to
be a companion to Dr. Samuel Johnson ! All that you
have said in grateful praise of Mr. Walmsley, 1 have
long thought of you ; but we are both Tories, which
has a very general influence upon our sentiments. I
hope that you will agree to meet me at York, about the
end of this month ; or if you will come to Carlisle, that
would be better still, in case the Dean be there. Please
to consider, that to keep each other's kindness, we
should every year have that free and intimate commu-
nication of mind which can be had only when we are
together. We should have both our solemn and our
pleasant talk."
" 1 write now for the third time, to tell you that my
desire for our meeting this autumn is much increased.
I wrote to 'Squire Godfrey Bosville, my Yorkshire chief,
that I should, perhaps, pay him a visit, as 1 was to hold
a conference with Dr. Johnson at York. 1 give you
my word and honour that 1 said not a word of his invit-
ing you ; but he wrote to me as follows :
' I had not then seen his Letters to Mrs. Thrale.
DR. JOHNSON. \37
^ I need not tell you I shall be happy to see you ^780.
here the latter end of this month, as you propose ; and ^^^^
I shall likewise be in hopes that you will persuade Dr. 71. *
Johnson to finish the conference here. It will add to
the favour of your own company, if you prevail upon
such an associate, to assist your observations. I have
often been entertained with his writings, and I once
belonged to a club of which he was a member, and I
never spent an evening there, but I heard something
from him well worth remembering.'
" We have thus, my dear Sir, good comfortable quar-
ters in the neighbourhood of York, where you may be
assured we shall be heartily welcome. I pray you then
resolve to set out ; and let not the year 1780 be a blank
in our social calendar, and in that record of wisdom and
wit, which 1 keep with so much diligence, to your
honour, and the instruction and delight of others."
Mr. Thrale had now another contest for the repre-
sentation in parliament of the borough of Southwark,
and Johnson kindly lent him his assistance, by writing
advertisements and letters for him. 1 shall insert one-
as a specimen
.*
" TO THE WORTHY ELECTORS OF THE BOROUGH OF
SOUTHWARK.
" GENTLEMEN,
" A NEW Parliament being now called, I again
solicit the honour of being elected for one of your rep-
resentatives ; and solicit it with the greater confidence,
as I am not conscious of having neglected my duty, or
of having acted otherwise than as becomes the inde-
pendent representative of independent constituents ;
superiour to fear, hope, and expectation, who has no
private purposes to promote, and whose prosperity is
involved in the prosperity of his country. As my re-
covery from a very severe distemper is not yet perfect,
I have declined to attend the Hall, and hope an omis-
sion so necessary will not be harshly censured.
" I can only send my respectful wishes^ that all your
VOL. in. 18
138 THE LIFE OF
i780. deliberations may tend to the happiness of the king-
^taT ^^™> ^^^ ^^^ peace of the borough.
71. " 1 am, Gentlemen,
" Your most faithful
" And obedient servant,
" Southwark, Sept, o, 1780. " Henry Thrale."
" TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LADY SOUTHWELL,*
DUBLIN.
" MADAM,
" Among the numerous addresses, of condolence
which your great loss must have occasioned, be pleased
to receive this from one whose name perhaps you have
never heard, and to whom your Ladyship is known
only by the reputation of your virtue, and to whom
your Lord was known only by his kindness and be-
neficence.
*' Your Ladyship is now again summoned to exert
that piety of which yon once gave, in a state of pain
and danger, so illustrious an example ; and your Lord's
beneficence may be still continued by those, who with
his fortune inherit his virtues.
" 1 hope to be forgiven the liberty which I shall take
of informing your Ladyship, that Mr. Mauritius Lowe,
a son of your late Lord's father, 5' had, by recommend-
= [Margaret, the second daughter and one of the co-heiresses of Arthur Cecil
Hamilton, Esq. She was married in 1741 to Thomas George, the third Baron,
and first Viscount, Southwell, and lived with ■kim in the most perfect connubial
felicity till September 1780, when Lord Southwell died : a loss which she never
ceased to lament to the hour of her own dissolution, in her eighty-first year, Au-
gust 16, 1802.— The " illustrious example of piety and fortitude" to which Dr.
Johnson alludes, was the submitting, when passed her fiftieth year, to an extremely
painful surgical operation, which she endured with extraordinary firmness and com-
posure, not allowing herself to be tied to her chair, nor uttering a single moan. —
This slight tribute of affection to the memory of these two most amiable and excel-
lent persons, who were not less distinguished by their piety, beneficence, and un-
bounded charity, than by a suavity of manners which endeared them to all who
knew them, it is hoped, will be forgiven from one who was honoured by their
kindness and friendship from his childhood. M.]
' [Thomas, the second Lord Southwell, who died in London, in 1766. Johnson
was well acquainted with this nobleman, and said, " he was the highest bred man,
without insolence, thai he was ever in company with." His younger brother,
Edmund Southwell, lived in intimacy with Johnson for many years. (See an
account of him in Hawkins's Life of Johnson, p. 40j.) He died in London, Nov.
'J2, 1772.
DR. JOHNSON. 139
ation to your Lord, a quarterly allowance of ten pounds, nso.
the last of which, due July 26, he has not received : ^^,
he was in hourly hope of his remittance, and flattered 71.
himself that on October 26 he should have received
the whole half year's bounty, when he was struck with
the dreadful news of his benefactor's death.
" May 1 presume to hope, that his want, his relation,
and his merit, which excited his Lordship's charity,
will continue to have the same effect upon those whom
he has left behind ; and that, though he has lost one
friend, he may not yet be destitute. Your Ladyship's
charity cannot easily be exerted where it is wanted
more ; and to a mind like yours, distress is a sutficient
recommendation.
" 1 hope to be allowed the honour of being,
" Madam,
" Your Ladyship's
" Most humble servant,
•^ Bolt-court^ Fhet-streety " Sam. Johnson."
London^ Sept. 9, 1780.
On his birth-day, Johnson has this note ; " I am
now beginning the seventy-second year of my life,
with more strength of body, and greater vigour of mind,
than 1 think is common at that age." But still he com-
plains of sleepless nights and idle days, and forgetful-
ness, or neglect of resolutions. He thus pathetically
expresses himself : " Surely I shall not spend my whole
life with my own total disapprobation."'
Mr. Macbean, whom I have mentioned more than
once, as one of Johnson's humble friends, a deserving
but unfortunate man, being now oppressed by age and
poverty, Johnson solicited the Lord Chancellor Thur-
iow, to have him admitted into the Charter-house. I
take the liberty to insert his Lordship's answer, as I
am eager to embrace every occasion of augmenting the
In opposition to the Knight's unfavourable representation of this gentleman, to
whom 1 was indebted for my first introduction to Johnson, I take this opportunity
to add, that he appeared to me a pious man, and was very fond of leading the con^
versation to religious subjects. M.]
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 185.
140 THE LIFE OF
1780. respectable notion which should ever be entertained
^tat. ^^ ™y illustrious friend :
71.
" TO DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" SIR, " London, October 24, 1780.
" 1 HAVE this moment received your letter dated
the 19th, and returned from Bath.
" In the beginning of the summer I placed one in
the Chartreux, without the sanction of a recommenda-
tion so distinct and so authoritative as yours of Mac-
bean ; and 1 am afraid, that according to the establish-
ment of the House, the opportunity of making the
charity so good amends will not soon recur. But
whenever a vacancy shall happen, if you'll favour me
with notice of it, I will try to recommend him to the
place, even though it should not be my turn to
nominate.
" I am, Sir, with great regard,
" Your most faithful
" And obedient servant,
" Thurlow."
" to james boswell, esq.
" DEAR SIR,
*' 1 AM sorry to write you a letter that will not
please you, and yet it is at last what I resolve to do.
This year must pass without an interview ; the summer
has been foolishly lost, like many other of my summers
and winters. 1 hardly saw a green field, but staid in
town to work, without working much.
" Mr. Thrale's loss of health has lost him the elec-
tion ; he is now going to Brighthelmston, and expects
me to go with him ; and how long 1 shall stay, I cannot
tell. 1 do not much like the place, but yet 1 shall go,
and stay while my stay is desired. We must, there-
fore, content ourselves with knowing what we know as
well as man can know the mind of man, that we love
one another, and that we wish each other's happiness,
and that the lapse of a year cannot lessen our mutual
kindness.
DR. JOHNSON. 141
" I was pleased to be told that I accused Mrs. Boswell 1780.
unjustly, in supposing that she bears me ill-will. 1 love ^"^
you so much, that I would be glad to love all that love 71.
you, and that you love; and 1 have love very ready for
Mrs. Boswell, if she thinks it worthy of acceptance. I
hope all the young ladies and gentlemen are well.
" I take a great liking to your brother. He tells me
that his father received him kindly, but not fondly ;
however, you seem to have lived well enough at Au-
chinleck, while you staid. Make your father as happy
as you can.
" You lately told me of your health : I can tell you
in return, that my health has been for more than a year
past, better than it has been for many years before.
Perhaps it may please God to give us some time togeth-
er before we are parted.
" 1 am, dear Sir,
" Yours most affectionately,
<* Oct. 17, 1780. " Sam. Johnson."
[" to the reverend dr. vyse, at lambkth.
"sir,
" I hope you will forgive the liberty I take, in so-
liciting your interposition with his Grace the Arch-
bishop : my first petition was successful, and I therefore
venture on a second.
" The matron of the Chartreux is about to resign her
place, and Mrs. Desmoulins, a daughter of the late Dr.
Swinfen,* who was well known to your father, is desir-
ous of succeeding her. She has been accustomed by
keeping a boarding school to the care of children, and I
think is very likely to discharge her duty. She is in
great distress, and therefore may properly receive the
benefit of a charitable foundation. If you wish to see
her, she will be willing to give an account of herself.
" If you shall be pleased. Sir, to mention her favour-
ably to his Grace, you will do a great act of kindness to,
Sir, " Your most obliged
" And most humble Servant,
" December 30, 1780. " Sam. Johnson."
* [See vol I. p. 66. M.]
14S THE LIFE OF
1780. Being disappointed in my hopes of meeting John-
^"^ son this year, so that I could hear none of his admira-
71. ble sayings, I shall compensate for this want by in-
serting a collection of them, for which I am indebted to
my worthy friend Mr. Langton, whose kind communi-
cations have been separately interwoven in many parts
of this work. Very few articles of this collection were
committed to writing by himself, he not having that
habit ; which he regrets, and which those who know
the numerous opportunities he had of gathering the
rich fruits of Johnsonian wit and wisdom, must ever
regret. 1 however found, in conversation with him,
that a good store of Johnsoniana was treasured in his
mind; and I compared it to Herculaneum, or some old
Roman field, which when dug, fully rewards the labt)ur
employed. The authenticity of every article is un-
questionable. For the expression, 1, who wrote them
down in his presence, am partly answerable.
" Theocritus is not deserving of very high respect as
a writer ; as to the pastoral part, Virgil is very evident-
ly superiour. He wrote when there had been a larger
influx of knowledge into the world than when I heo-
critus lived. Theocritus does not abound in descrip-
tion, though living in a beautiful country : the manners
painted are coarse and gross. Virgil has much more
description, more sentiment, more of nature, and morfe
of art. Some of the most excellent parts of Theocri-
tus are, where Castor and Pollux, going with the other
Argonauts, land on the Bebrycian coast, and there fall
into a dispute with Amycus, the King of that country ;
which" is as well conducted as Euripides could have done
it ; and the battle is well related. Afterwards they
carry off a woman, whose two brothers come to re-
cover her, and expostulate with Castor and Pollux on
their injustice ; but they pay no regard to the brothers,
and a battle ensues, where Castor and his brother are
triumphant. — Theocritus seems not to have seen that
the brothers have the advantage in their argument over
his Argonaut heroes. — ' The Sicilian Gossips' is a piece
of merit."
DR. JOHNSON. 143
" Caliimachus is a writer of little excellence. The 1780.
chief thing to be learned from him is his account of^J^
Rites and Mythology ; which, though desirable to be 71. '
known for the sake of understanding other parts of an-
cient authours, is the less pleasing or valuable part of
their writings."
" Mattaire's account of the Stephani is a heavy book.
He seems to have been a puzzle-headed man, with a
large share of scholarship, but with little geometry
or logick in his head, without method, and possess-
ed of little genius. He wrote Latin verses from time
to time, and published a set in his old age, which he
called ' Seailia ;' in which he shews so little learning
or taste in writing, as to make Carteret di dactyl. — In
matters of geneology it is necessary to give the bare
names as they are ; but in poetry, and in prose of any
elegance in the writing, they require to have in-
flection given to them. — His book of the Dialects is a
sad heap of confusion ; the only way to write on them
is to tabulate them with Notes, added at the bottom
of the page, and references."
" It may be questioned, whether there is not some
mistake as to the methods of employing the poor,
seemingly on a supposition that there is a certain por-
tion of work left undone for want of persons to do it ;
but if that is otherwise, and all the materials we have
are actually worked up, or all the manufactures we can
use or dispose of are already executed, then what is
given to the poor, who are to be set at work, must be
taken from some who now have it : as time must be
taken for learning, (according to Sir William Petty's
observation,) a certain part of those very materials that,
as it is, are properly worked up, must be spoiled by
the unskilfulness of novices. We may apply to well-
meaning, but misjudging persons in particulars of this
nature, what Giannone said to a monk, who wanted
what he called to convert him : " T;/ sri santo^ ma ftf
non sei filosopho.^'* — It is an unhappy circumstance that
one might give away five hundred pounds in a year to
those that importune in the streets, and not do any
good."
144 THE LIFE OP
1780. " There is nothing more likely to betray a man into
^taT absurdity, than condescension ; when he seems to sup*-
71. pose his understanding too powerful for his company/^
" Having asked Mr. Langton if his father and mother
had sat for their pictures, which he thought it right for
each generation of a family to do, and being told they
had opposed it, he said, " Sir, among the anfractuosi-
ties of the human mind, 1 know not if it may not be
one, that there is a superstitious reluctance to sit for a
picture."
" John Gilbert Cooper related, that soon after the
publication of his Dictionary, Garrick being asked by
Johnson what people said of it, told him, that among
other animadversions, it was objected that he cited au-
thorities which were beneath the dignity of such a
work, and mentioned Richardson. ' Nay, (said John-
son,) 1 have done worse than that : 1 have cited thee,
David."
" Talking of expence, he observed, with what mu-
^ nificence a great merchant will spend his money, both
from his having it at command, and from his enlarged
views by calculation of a good effect upon the whole.
* Whereas (said he) you will hardly ever find a coun-
try gentleman, who is not a good deal disconcerted at
an unexpected occasion for his being obliged to lay
out ten pounds."
" When in good humour, he would talk of his own
writings with a wonderful frankness and candour, and
would even criticise them with the closest severity.
One day, having read over one of his Ramblers, Mr.
Langton asked him, how he liked that paper ; he shook
his head, and answered, ' too wordy.* At another
time, when one was reading his tragedy of ' Irene,' to
a company at a house in the country, he left the room :
and somebody having asked him the reason of this, he
replied, Sir, 1 thought it had been better."
" Talking of a point of delicate scrupulosity of moral
conduct, he said to Mr. Langton, ' Men of harder
minds than ours will do many things from which you
and 1 would shrink ; yet. Sir, they will, perhaps do
more good in life than we. But let us try to help one
DR. JOHNSON. 145
another. If there be a wrong twist, it may be set 1780.
right. It is not probable that two people can be wrong ^uu
the same way." 7t.
" Of the Preface to CapePs Shakspeare, he said,
' If the man would have come to me, I would have
endeavoured to ' endow his purposes with words ;' for
as it is, he doth ' gabble monstrously."
" He related, that he had once in a dream a contest
of wit with some other person, and that he was very
much mortified by imagining that his opponent had
the better of him. ' Now, (said he,) one may mark
here the effect of sleep in weakening the power of re-
flection ; for had not my judgement failed me, I should
have seen, that the wit of this supposed antagonist, by
whose superiority I felt myself depressed, was as much
furnished by me, as that which I thought 1 had been
uttering in my own character."
" One evening in company, an ingenious and learn-
ed gentleman read to him a letter of compliment which
he had received from one of the Professors of a Foreign
University. Johnson, in an irritable fit, thinking there
was too much ostentation, said, ' I never receive any
of these tributes of applause from abroad. One instance
I recollect of a foreign publication, in which mention
is made of rUlustre Lockman" '
" Of Sir Joshua Reynolds, he said, ' Sir, I know no
man who has passed through life with more observa-
tion than Reynolds."
" He repeated to Mr. Langton, with great energy,
in the Greek, our Saviour's gracious expressi<>n con-
cernino- the forgiveness of Mary Magdalen,^ H ■^i,jrii
Tov (TijuKi af TTo^iuoviicufm'.y. " Thy faith hath saved tnee ;
go ni peace." ^ He said, 'the manner of this dismis-
sion is exceedingly affecting."
" He thus defined the difference between physical
and mora! truth : ' Physical truth, is, when you tell a
thing as it actually is. ^Nloral truth, is, when you tell
' Secretary to the British Herring Fishery, remarkable for an extraordinary num-
ber of occasional verses, not of eminent merit.
2 [It docs not appear that the woman forgiven was Mary Magdalen. K.]
^ Luke vii. 50.
VOL. III. 19
146 THE LIFE OF
1780. a thing sincerely and precisely as it appears to you. I
^^^^ say such a one walked across the street ; if he really
71, did so, I told a physical truth. If I thought so, though
1 should have been mistaken, I told a moral truth."*
" Huggins, the translator of Ariosto, and Mr. Thom-
as Warton, in the early part of his literary life, had a
dispute concerning that poet, of whom Mr. Warton,
on his ' Observations on Spenser's Fairy Queen,' gave
some account which Huggins attempted to answer with
violence, and said, ' I will militate no longer against
his nescience' Huggins was master of the subject, but
wanted expression. Mr. Warton 's knowledge of it
was then imperfect, but his manner lively and elegant.
Johnson said, ' It appears to me, that Huggins has ball
without powder, and Warton powder without ball."
" Talking of the Farce of ' High Life below Stairs,'
he said, ' Here is a Farce, which is really very diverting,
when you see it acted ; and yet one may read it, and
not know that one has been reading any thing at all."
" He used at one time to go occasionally to the
green-room of Drury-lane Theatre, where he was
much regarded by the players, and was very easy and
facetious with them. He had a very high opinion of
Mrs. Clive's comick powers, and conversed more with
her than with any of them. He said, ' Clive, Sir, is a
good thing to sit by ; she always understands what
you say.' And she said of him, ' I love to sit by
Dr. Johnson ; he always entertains me.' One night,
when 'The Recruiting Officer'-vvas acted, he said to
Mr. Holland, who had been expressing an apprehen-
sion that Dr. Johnson would disdain the works of Far-
quhar ; * No, Sir, 1 think Farquhar a man whose writ-
ings have considerable merit."
" His friend Garrick was so busy in conducting the
drama, that they could not have so much intercourse
as Mr. Garrick used to profess an anxious wish that
there should be.' There might, indeed, be something
" [This account of the difference between moral and physical truth is in Locke's
" Essay on Human Understanding," and many other books. K.]
' [In a letter written by Johnson to a friend in Jan. 1742—3, he says, " I never
see Garrick." M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 147
in the contemptuous seventy as to the merit of act- '780.
ing, which his old preceptor nourished in himself, '^{^
that would mortify Garrick after the great applause 71. *
which he received from the audience. For though
Johnson said of him, ' Sir, a man who has a nation to
admire him every night, may well be expected to be
somewhat elated ;' yet he would treat theatrical mat-
ters with a ludicrous slight. He mentioned one eve-
ning, ' I met David coming off the stage, drest in a wo-
man's riding hood, when he acted in The Wonder ; I
came full upon him, and 1 believe he was not pleased."
" Once he asked Tom Davies, whom he saw drest
in a fine suit of clothes, * And what art thou to-
night V Tom answered, ' The Thane of Ross ;'
(which it will be recollected is a very inconsiderable
character.) ' O brave !' said Johnson."
" Of Mr. Longley, at Rochester, a gentleman of
very considerable learning, whom Dr. Johnson met
there, he said, ' My heart warms towards him. 1 was
surprized to find in him such a nice acquaintance with
the metre in the learned languages : though I was
somewhat mortified that I had it not so much to my-
self, as 1 should have thought."
" Talking of the minuteness with which people will
record the sayings of eminent persons, a story was told,
that when Pope was on a visit to Spence at Oxford, as
they looked from the window they saw a Gentleman
Commoner, who was just come in from riding, amus-
ing himself with whipping at a post. Pope took occa-
sion to say, ' That young gentleman seems to have
httle to do.' Mr. Beauclerk observed, ' Then, to be
sure, Spence turned round and wrote that down ;' and
went on to say to Dr. Johnson, ' Pope, Sir, would
have said the same of you, if he had seen you distill-
ing.' Johnson. ' Sir, if Pope, had told me of my
distilling, I would have told him of his grotto."
" He would allow no settled indulgence of idleness
upon principle, and always repelled every attempt to
urge excuses for it. A friend one day suggested, that
it was not wholesome to study soon after dinner.
Johnson. ' Ah, Sir, don't give way to such a fancy.
148 THE LIFE OF
1780. At one time of my life 1 had taken it into my head
2J^ that it was not wholesome to study between breakfast
7j. and dinner."
" Mr. Beauclerk one day repeated to Dr. Johnson,
Pope's lines,
* Let modest Foster, if he will, excel
' Ten metropolitans in preaching well :'
Then asked the Doctor, ' Why did Pope say this ''
Johnson. ' Sir, he hoped it would vex somebody."
*' Dr. Goldsmith, upon occasion of Mrs. Lenox's
bringing out a play,'^ said to Dr. Johnson at the Club,
that a person had advised him to go and hiss it, be-
cause she had attacked Shakspeare in her book called
' Shakspeare Illustrated.' Johnson. ' And did not
you tell him that he was a rascal !' Goldsmith.
* No, Sir, 1 did not. Perhaps he might not mean what
he said.' Johnson. ' Nay, Sir, if he lied, it is a dif-
ferent thing.' Colman slily said, (but it is believed
Dr. Johnson did not hear him,) ' Then the proper ex-
pression should have been, — Sir, if you don't lie, you're
a rascal."
" His affection for Topham Beauclerk was so great,
that when Beauclerk was labouring under that severe
illness which at last occasioned his death, Johnson
said, (with a voice faltering with emotion,) ' Sir, I
would walk to the extent of the diameter of the earth
to save Beauclerk."
" One night at the Club he produced a translation
of an Epitaph which Lord Elibank had written in Eng-
lish, for his Lady, and requested of .Johnson to turn it
into Latin for him. Having read Dom'ma de North et
Gray, he said to Dyer,' ' You see, Sir, what barbar-
ism we are compelled to make use of, when modern
titles are to be specifically mentioned in Latin inscrip-
tions.' When he had read it once aloud, and there
had been a general approbation expressed by the com-
« [Probably " The Sisters," a comedy performed one night only, at Covent Gar-
den, in 176'9. Dr. Goldsmith wrote an excellent epilogue to it. — Mrs. Lenox,
whose maiden name was Ramsay, died in London in distressed circumstances, in her
eighty-fourth year, January 4, 1804. M.]
/- [See Vol. i. p. 400. M.J
DR. JOHNSON. 149
pany, he addressed himself to Mr. Dyer in particular, J780.
and' said, 'Sir, 1 beg to have your judgement, for I ^J^
know your nicety.' Dyer then very properly desired 71.
to read it over again ; which having done, he pointed
out an incongruity in one of the sentences. Johnson
immediately assented to the observation, and said, ' Sir,
this is owing to an alteration of a part of the sentence,
from the form in which I had first written it ; and I
believe. Sir, you may have remarked, that the making
a partial change, without a due regard to the general
structure of the sentence, is a very frequent cause of
errour in composition."
" Johnson was well acquainted with Mr. Dossie, au-
thour of a treatise on Agriculture ; and said of him,
* Sir, of the objects which the Society of Arts have chief-
ly in view, the chymical effects of bodies operating up-
on other bodies, he knows more than almost any man.'
Johnson, in order to give Mr. Dossie his vote to be a
member of this Society, paid up an arrear which had
run on for two years. On this occasion he mentioned
a circumstance, as characteristick of the Scotch. ' One
of that nation, (said he,) who had been a candidate,
against whom 1 had voted, came up to me with a civil
salutation. Now, Sir, this is their way. An English-
man would have stomached it, and been sulky, and
never have taken further notice of you ; but a Scothman,
Sir, though you vote nineteen times against him, will
accost you with equal complaisance after each time,
and the twentieth time, Sir, he will get your vote."
" Talking on the subject of toleration, one day
when some friends were with him in his study, he
made his usual remark, that tl;ie State has a right to
regulate the religion of the people,' who are the chil-
dren of the State. A clergyman having readily ac-
quiesced in this, Johnson, who loved discussion, ob-
served, ' But, Sir, you must go round to other States
than our own. You do not know what a Bramin has
to say for himself. « In short, Sir, 1 have got no fur-
' Here Lord Macartney remarks, " A Bramin or any cast of the Hindoos will
neither admit you to be of their religion, nor be converted to yours : — a thing
which struck the Portuguese with the greatest astonishment, when they first discov-
ered the East Indies."
150 THE LIFE OF
J780. therthan this : Every man has a right to utter what he
^J^ thinks truth, and every other man has a riglit to knock
71. him down for it. Martyrdom is the test."
" A man, he observed, should begin to write soon :
for, if he waits till his judgement is matured, his ina-
bility, through want of practice to express his concep-
tions, will make the disproportion so great between
what he sees, and what he can attain, that he will
probably be discouraged from writing at all. As a
proof of the justness of this remark, we may instance
what is related of the great Lord Granville ;' that
after he had written his letter giving an account of the
battle of Dettingen, he said, ' Here is a letter, ex-
pressed in terms not good enough for a tallow chandler
to have used."
" Talking of a Court-martial that was sitting upon a
very momentous publick occasion, he expressed much
doubt of an enlightened decision ; and said, that per-
haps there was not a member of it, who in the whole
course of his life, had ever spent an hour by himself
in balancing probabilities."
" Goldsmith one day brought to the Club a printed
Ode, which he, with others, had been hearing read by
its authour in a publick room, at the rate of five shil-
lings each for admission. One of the company having
read it aloud. Dr. Johnson said, ' Bolder words and
more timorous meaning, 1 think never were brought
together."
" Talking of Gray's Odes, he' said, 'They are forced
plants, raised in a hot-bed ; and they are poor plants ;
they are but cucumbers after all.' A gentleman pre-
sent, who had been running down Ode-writing in
general, as a bad species of poetry, unluckily said,
* Had they been literally cucumbers, they had been
better things than Odes.' — ' Yes, Sir, (said Johnson,)
for a hogJ'''
" His distinction of the different degrees of attain-
ment of learning was thus marked upon two occasions.
Of Queen Elizabeth he said, ' She had learning enough
' [Jolm, the first Earl of Granville, who died, January 2, 1763. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 151
to have given dignity to a bishop ;' and of Mr. Thomas 1780.
Davies he said, ' Sir, Davies has learning enough to ^Jj[^
give credit to a clergyman." 71.
" He used to quote, with great warmth, the saying
of Aristotle recorded by Diogenes Laertius ; that there
was the same difference between one learned and un-
learned, as between the living and the dead."
" It is very remarkable, that he retained in his mem-
ory very slight and trivial, as well as important things.
As an instance of this, it seems that an inferiour domes-
tick of the Duke of Leeds had attempted to celebrate
his Grace's marriage in such homelv rhymes as he could
make ; and this curious composition having been sung
to Dr. Johnson, he got it by heart, and used to repeat
it in a very pleasant manner. Two of the stanzas were
these :
' When the Duke of Leeds shall married be
' To a fine young lady of high quality,
' How happy will that gentlewoman be
' In his Grace of Leeds's good company.
* She shall have all that's fine and fair,
* And the best of silk and satin shall wear:
' And ride in a coach to take the air,
' And have a house in St. James's-square.^'
" The correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine who subscribes himself Scioi
:.us, furnishes the following supplement :
" A lady of my acquaintance remembers to have beard her imcle sing those
homely stanzas more than forty-five years ago. He repeated the second thus ;
She shall breed young lords and ladies fair,
And ride abroad in a coach and three pair.
And the best, &c.
And have a house, &c.
And remembered a third which seems to have been the Introductory one, and f?
believed to have been the only remaining one :
When the Duke of Leeds shall have made his choice
Of a charming young lady that's beautiful and wise.
She'll be the happiest young gentlewoman under the sides,
As long as the sun and moon shall rise,
And how happy shall, &c.
It is with pleasure I add that this stagza conW «evCT he mere tfuly applied than
at this present time [1792.]
152 THE LIFE OF
1780. To hear a man, of the weight and dignity of Johnson,
^^^ repeating such humble attempts at poetry, had a very
71. amusing effect. He, however, seriously observed of
the last stanza repeated by him, that it nearly compris-
ed all the advantages that wealth can give.^'
" An eminent foreigner, when he was shewn the
Brhtish Museum, was very troublesome with many ab-
surd enquiries. ' Now there. Sir, (said he,) is the dif-
ference between an Englishman and a Frenchman. A
Frenchman niust be always talking, whether he knows
any thing of the matter or not ; an Englishman is con-
tent to say nothing, when he has nothing to say."
" His unjust contempt for foreigners was, indeed, ex-
treme. One evening, at Old Slaughter's coffee-house,
when a number of them were talking loud about little
matters, he said, ' Does not this confirm old Meynell's
observation — For any thing I see, foreigners are
foolsr
" He said, that once, when he had a violent tooth-ach,
a Frenchman accosted him thus: Ah, Monsieur, vous
etudiez trop"
" Having spent an evening at Mr. Langton's, with
the Reverend Dr. Parr, he was much pleased with the
conversation of that learned gentleman ; and, after he
was gone, said to Mr. Langton, ' Sir, I am obliged to
you for having asked me this evening. Parr is a fair
man.^ I do not know when I have had an occasion
of such free controversy. It is remarkable how much
of a man's life may pass without meeting with any in-
stance of this kind of open discussion."
" We may fairly institute a criticism between Shak-
speare and Corneille, as they both had, though in a
different degree, the lights of a latter age. It is not so
just between the Greek dramatick writers and Shak-
speare. It may be replied to what is said by one of the
remarkers on Shakspeare, that though Darius's shade
had prescience, it does not necessarily follow that he
had z\\ past particulars revealed to him."
^ [When the Corporation of Norwich applied to Johnson to point out to them ?
proper master for their Grammer-Schoo! he recommended Dr. Parr, on his ceae-
ing to be usher to Sumner at Harrow. B.]
DR. JOHNSON. 155
" Spanish plays, being wildly and improbably farci- 1780.
cal, would please children here, as children are enter- ^"^
tained with stories full of prodigies ; their experience 71,
not being sufficient to cause them to be so readily
startled at deviations from the natural course of life.
The machinery of the Pagans is uninteresting to us :
when a Goddess appears in Hon)er or \ irgil, we grow
weary ; still more so in the Grecian tragedies, as in
that kind of composition a nearer approach to Nature
is intended. Yet there are good reasons for reading
romances ; as — the fertility of invention, the beauty
of style and expression, the curiosity of seeing with
what kind of performances the age and country in
which they were written was delighted : for it is to be
apprehended, that at the time when very wild improb-
able tales were well received, the people were in a
barbarous state, and so on the footing of children, as
has been explained."
*' It is evident enough that no one who writes now
can use the Pagan deities and mythology ; the only
machinery, therefore, seems that of ministering spirits,
the ghosts of the departed, witches, and fairies, though
these latter, as the vulgar superstition concerning them
(which, while in its force, infected at least the imagin-
ation of those that had more advantage in education,
though their reason set them free from it,) is every day
wearing out, seem likely to be of little further assist-
ance in the machinery of poetry. As 1 recollect,
Hammond introduces a hag or witch into one of his
love elegies, where the effect is unmeaning and dis-
gusting."
" The man who uses his talent of ridicule in creating
or grossly exaggerating the instances he gives, who
imputes absurdities that did not happen, or when a
man was a little ridiculous, describes him as having
been very much so, abuses his talents greatly. The
great use of delineating absurdities is, that we may
know how far human folly can go ; the account, there-
fore, ought of absolute necessity to be faithful. A
certain character (naming the person) as to the general
cast of it, is well described by Garrick, but a great deal
VOL. III. 5()
154. THK LIFE OF
1780. of the phraseology he uses in it, is quite his own, par-
]^^ ticularly in the proverbial comparisons, ' obstinatr as
71. a pig,' &c. but 1 don't know whether it might nut be
true of Lord , that from a too great enj^erness
of praise and popularity, and a pohteness carried to a
ridiculous excess, he was hkely, after asserting a thing
in general, to give it up again in parts. For instance,
if he had said Reynolds was the first of painters, he
was capable enough of giving up, as objections might
happen to be severally made, first, his outline, — then
the grace in form, — then the colouring, — and lastly, to
have owned that he was such a mannerist, that the
disposition of his pictures was all alike."
" For hospitality, as formerly practised, there is no
longer the same reason ; heretofore the poorer people
were more numerous, and from want of commerce,
their means of getting a livelihood more difficult ;
therefore the supporting them was an act of great be-
nevolence ; now that the poor can find maintenance
for themselves, and their labour is wanted, a general
undiscerning hospitality tends to ill, by withdrawing
them from their work to idleness and drunkenness.
Then, formerly rents were received in kind, so that
there was a great abundance of provisions in possession
of the owners of the lands, which since the plenty of
money afforded by commerce, is no longer the case."
" Plospitality to strangers and foreigners in our coun-
try is now almost at an end, since, from the increase
of them that come to us, there have been a sufficient
number of people that have found an interest in pro-
viding inns and proper accommodations, which is in
general a more expedient method for the entertainment
of travellers. Where the travellers and strangers are
few, more of that hospitality subsists, as it has not been
worth while to provide places of accommodation. In
Ireland there is still hospitality to strangers, in some
degree ; in Hungary and Poland probably more.
" Colman, in a note on his translation of Terence,
talking of Shakspeare's learning, asks, ' What ^^ays
Farmer to this ? What says Johnson V Upon this he
observed, * Sir, let Farmer answer for himself : /
DR. JOHNSON. 155
never engaged in this controversy. I always said, ^780.
Shakspeare had Latin enough to grammaticise his^^^
EngHsh." 71.
" A clergyman, whom he characterised as one who
loved to say httle oddities, was affecting one day, at a
Bishop's table, a sort of slyness and freedom not in
character, and repeated, as if part of ' The Old Man's
Wish,' a song by Dr. Waiter Pope, a verse bordering
on licentiousness. Johnson rebuked him in the finest
manner, by first shewing him that he did not know
the passage he was aiming at, and thus humbling him:
* Sir, that is not the song : it is thus.' And he gave
it right. Then looking steadfastly on him, ' Sir, there
is a part of that song which I should wish to exem-
plify in my own life :
' May I govern my passions with absolute sway !'
" Being asked if Barnes knew a good deal of Greek,
he answered, ' 1 doubt. Sir, he was imocidus inter
CCGCOS." *
" He used frequently to observe, that men might be
very eminent in a profession, without our perceiving
any particular power of mind in them in conversation.
* It seems strange (said he) that a man should see so
far to the right, who sees so short a way to the left.
Burke is the only man whose common conversation
corresponds with the general fame which he has in the
world. Take up whatever topick you please, he is
ready to meet you."
*' A gentleman, by no means deficient in literature,
having discovered less acquaintance with one of the
Classicks than Johnson expected, when the gentleman
left the room, he observed, ' You see, now, how little
any body reads.' Mr. Langton happening to mention
his having read a good deal in Clenardus's Greek
Grammar, ' Why, Sir, (said he,) who is there in this
3 [Johnson in his Life of Milton, after mentioning that great poet's extraordinary
fancy that the world was in its decay, and that his book was to be written in an
age too late for heroick poesy, thus concludes : " However inferiour to the heroes
who were born in better ages, he might still be great among his contemporaries, .
with the hope of growing every day greater in the dwindle of posterity ; he might
still be a giant among the pigmies, the onceyed monarch of the blind." 3. B.— O.]
156 THE LIFE OF
1780. town who knows any thing of Clenardus but you and
~ i V And upon Mr. Langton's mentioning that he had
taken the pains to learn by heart the Epistle of *^t.
Basil, which is given in that Grammar as a praxis,
' Sir, (said he,) 1 never made such an effort to attain
Greek."
" Of Dodsley's ' Publick Virtue, a Poem,' he said,
'It was fine blank ; (meaning to express his usual con-
tempt for blank verse :) however, this miserable poem
did not sell, and my poor friend Doddy said, Publick
Virtue was not a subject to interest the age."
" Mr. Langton, when a very young man, read Dods-
ley's ' Cleone, a Tragedy,' to him, not aware of his ex-
treme impatience to be read to. As it went on he turn-
ed his face to the back of his chair, and put himself into
various attitudes, which marked his uneasiness. At
the end of an act, however, he said, * Come, let's have
some more, let's go into the slaughter-house again,
Lanky. But I am afraid there is more blood than
brains.' Yet he afterwards said, ' When I heard you
read it I thought higher of its power of language : when
I read it myself, 1 was more sensible of its pathetick ef-
fect ;' and then he paid it a compliment which many
will think very extravagant. * Sir, (said he,) if Otway
had written this play, no other of his pieces would have
been remembered.' Dodsley himself, upon this being
repeated to him, said, ' It was too much :' it must be
remembered, that Johnson always appeared not to be
sufficiently sensible of the merit of Otway."*
" Snatches of reading (said he) will not make a Bent-
ley or a Clarke. They are, however, in a certain de-
gree advantageous. I would put a child into a library
(where no unfit books are) and let him read at his choice.
A child should not be discouraged from reading any
thing that he takes a liking to, from a notion that it is
above his reach. If that be the case, the child will
soon find it out and desist ; if not, he of course gains
the instruction ; which is so much the more likely to
* [This assertion concerning Johnson's insensibility to the pathetick powers of
Otway, is too round. I once asked him, whether he did not think Otway frequently
tender : when he answered, " Sir, he is all tenderness." B.1
I
I
I
DR. JOHNSON. 157
come, from the inclination with which he takes up the 1780,
study." ^
" Though he used to censure carelessness with great 71.
vehemence, he owned, that he once, to avoid the trou-
ble of locking up five guineas, hid them, he forgot where,
so that he could not find them."
" A gentleman who introduced his brother to Dr.
Johnson, was earnest to recommend him to the Doc-
tor's notice, which he did by saying, * When we have
sat together some time, you'll find my brother grow ve-
ry entertaining/ — ' Sir, (said Johnson,) I can wait."
" When the rumour was strong that we should have
a war, because the French would assist the Americans,
he rebuked a friend with some asperity for supposing it,
saying, ' No, Sir, national faith is not yet sunk so low."
" In the latter part of his life, in order to satisfy him-
self whether his mental faculties were impaired, he re-
solved that he would try to learn a new language, and
fixed upon the Low Dutch, for that purpose, and this
he continued till he had read about one half of ' Thom-
as a Kempis ;' and finding that there appeared no abate-
ment of his power of acquisition, he then desisted, as
thinking the experiment had been duly tried. Mr.
Burke justly observed, that this was not the most vig-
orous trial, Low Dutch being a language so near to our
own ; had it been one of the languages entirely differ-
ent, he might have been very soon satisfied."
" Mr. Langton and he having gone to see a Free-
mason's funeral procession, when they were at Ro-
chester, and some solemn musick being played on
French horns, he said, ' This is the first time that I
have ever been affected by musical sounds ; adding
* that the impression made upon him was of a mel-
ancholy kind.' Mr. Langton saying, that this effect
was a fine one. — Johnson. ' Yes, if it softens the
mind so as to prepare it for the reception of salutary
feelings, it may be good : but in as much as it is me-
lancholy per se^ it is bad."*
^ [The French horn, however, is so far from being melancholy ptr si, that when
the strain is light, and in the field, there is nothing so cheerful ! It was the fune-
158 THE LIFE OF
1780. " Goldsmith had long a visionary project, that some
"^^ time or other when his circumstances should be easier,
71, ' he would go to Aleppo, in order to acquire a knowl-
edge as far as might be, of any arts peculiar to the
East, and introduce them into Britain. When this
was talked of in Dr. Johnson's company, he said, ' Of
all men Goldsmith is the most unfit to go out upon
such an enquiry ; for he is utterly ignorant of such
arts as we already possess, and consequently could not
know what would be accessions to our present stock of
mechanical knowledge. Sir, he would bring home a
grinding-barrow, which you see in every street in Lon-
don, and think that he had furnished a wonderful im-
provement."
" Greek, Sir, (said he) is like lace ; every man gets
as much of it as he can.""*
" When Lord Charles Hay, after his return from
America, was preparing his defence to be offered to^
the Court-martial which he had demanded, having heard
Mr. Langton as high in expressions of admiration of
Johnson, as he usually was, he requested that Dr. John-
son might be introduced to him ; and Mr. Langton
having mentioned it to Johnson, he very kindly and
readily agreed ; and being presented by Mr. Langton to
his Lordship, while under arrest, he saw him several
times ; upon one of which occasions Lord Charles read
to him what he had prepared, which Johnson signified
his approbation of, saying, * It is a very good soldierly
defence.* Johnson said, that he had advised his Lord-
ship, that as it was in vain to contend with those who
were in possession of power, if they would offer him
the rank of Lieutenant-General, and a government, it
would be better judged to desist from urging his com-
plaints. It is well known that his Lordship died before
the sentence was made known."
" Johnson one day gave high praise to Dr. Bentley's
ral occasion, and probably the solemnity of the strain, that produced the plaintive
effect here mentioned." B.]
' [It should be remembered, that this was said twenty-five or thirty years ago,
Vfheti lace was Very generally worn. M.l
DR. JOHNSON. 159
verses' in Dodsley's Collection, which he recited with 1780.
his usual energy. Dr. Adam Smith, who was present, ^^
observed in his decisive professorial manner, ' Very well 71, *
— V'ery well.' Johnson however added, ' Yes, they
are very well, Sir ; but you may observe in what man-
ner they are well. They are the forcible verses of a
man of a strong mind, but not accustomed to write verse;
for there is some uncouthness in the expression."^
■ Dr. Johnson, in his Life of Cowley, says, that these are " the only English
verses which Bentley is known to have written." 1 shall here insert them, and
hope my readers will apply them.
" Who strives to mount Parnassus' hill
" And thence poetick laurels bring,
*' Must first acquire due force and skill,
" Must fly with swan's or eagle's wing.
" Who Nature's treasures would explore,
" Her mysteries and arcana know ;
" Must high as lofty Newton soar,
" Must stoop as delving Woodward low.
" Who studies ancient laws and rites,
" Tongues, arts, and arms, and history ;
" Must drudge, like Selden, days and nights,
" And in the endless labour die.
" Who travels in reUgious jars,
" (Truth mixt with errour, shades with raysr"^
" Like Whiston, wanting pyx or stars,
" In ocean wide or sinks or strays.
•' But grant our hero's hope, long toil
" And comprehensive genius crown,
" All sciences, all arts his spoil,
" Yet what reward, or what renown r
" Envy, innate in vulgar souls,
" Envy steps in and stops his rise ;
" Envy with poison'd tarnish fouls
" His lustre, and his worth decries.
" He lives inglorious or in want,
" To college and old books confin'd ;
" Instead of learn 'd, he's call'd pedant,
" Dunces advanc'd, he's left behind :
" Yet left content, a genuine Stoick he,
" Great without patron, rich without South Sea."
{A different and probably a more accurate copy of these spirited verses is to be
found in " The Grove, or a Collection of Originai Poems and Translations," &c.
1721. In this miscellany the last stanza, which in Dodsley's copy is unquestiona-
bly uncouth, is thus exhibited :
" Inglorious or by "wants inthrall'd,
" To college and old books confin'd,
" A pedant from bis learning call'd,
" Dunces advanc'd, he's left behind."
J. R— 0.3
The difference between Johnson and Smith is apparent even in this slight in-
stance. Smith was a man of extraordinary application, and had his mind crowded
160 THE LIFE OF
1780. " Drinking tea one day at Garrick's with Mr. Lang-
^tat^ ^^"' ^^ ^^* questioned if he was not somewhat of a
71. heretick as to Shakspeare ; said Garrick, ' 1 doubt he is
a little of an infidel.' — 'Sir, (said Johnson) 1 will stand
by the lines 1 have written on Shakspeare in my Pro-
logue at the opening of your Theatre.^ Mr. Langton
suggested, that in the line
* And panting Time toil'd after him in vain ;'
Johnson might have had in his eye the passage in the
* Tempest,' where Prospero says of Miranda,
She will outstrip all praise.
i
* And make it halt behind her.'
Johnson said nothing:. Garrick then ventured to ob-
serve, ' I do not think that the happiest line in the
praise of Shakspeare.' Johnson exclaimed (smiling,)
* Prosaical rogues ! next time 1 write, I'll make both
time and space pant."'
" It is well known that there was formerly a rude
custom for those who were sailing upon the Thames, to
accost each other as they passed, in the most abusive
language they could invent, generally, however with
as much satirical humour as they were capable of pro-
witlj all manner of subjects ; but the force, acuteness, and vivacity of Johnson
were not to be found there. He had book-making' so much in his thoughtSj and
was so chary of what might be turned to account in that way, that he once said to
Sir Joshua Reynolds, that he made it a rule when in company, never to talk of what
he understood. Beauclerk had for a short time a pretty high opinion of Smith's
«onversation. Garrick after Ustening to himifor a wliiie, as to one of whom his
expectations had been raised, turned slyly to a friend, and whispered him, " What
say you to this .' — eh ? Jlabby, I think."
' I am sorry to see in the " Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh,"
Vol. 11. " An Essay on the Character of Hamlet," written, I should suppose, by a
very young man, though called " Reverend ;" who speaks with presumptuous pet-
ulance of the first literary character of his age. Amidst a cloudy confusion of
words, (which hath of late too often passed in Scotland for Mdaphy sicks ^ he thus
ventures to criticise one o the noblest lines in our langupge : — " Dr. Johnson has
remarked, that ' time toiled after him in vain.' But I should apprehend, that this
IS entirely to mistake the character. Time toils after every great man, as well as after
Shakspeare. The -workings of an ordinary mind keep face, indeed, with time ; they
move no faster ; they have their beginning, their middle, and their end ; but superiour
natures can reduce these into a point. They do not, indeed; suppress them ; but they
suspend, or they lock them up in the breast." The learned Society, under whose sanc-
tion such gabble is ushered into the world, would do well to offer a premium ta
any one who will discover its meaning.
DR. JOHNSON. 16t
ducing. Addison gives a specimen of this ribaldry, m 1780.
Number 383 of ' The Spectator,' when Sir Roger de ^J^
Coverly and he are going to Spring-garden. Johnson 71, *
was once eminently successful in this species of con-
test ; a fellow having attacked him with some coarse
raillery, Johnson answered him thus, ' Sir, your wife
under pretence of keeping a baicdij-house^ is a receiver
of stolen goods.' One evening when he and Mr.
Burke and Mr, Langton were in company together,
and the admirable scolding of Timon of Athens was
mentioned, this instance of Johnson's was quoted, and
thought to have at least equal excellence."
" As Johnson always allowed the extraordinary
talents of Mr. Burke, so Mr. Burke was fully sensible
of the wonderful powers of Johnson. Mr. Langton
recollects having passed an evening with both of them,
•when Mr. Burke repeatedly entered upon topicks
which it was evident he would have illustrated with
extensive knowledge and richness of expression ; but
Johnson always seized upon the conversation, in which,
however, he acquitted himself in a most masterly man-
ner. As Mr. Burke and Mr. Langton were walking
home, Mr. Burke observed that Johnson had been
very great that night ; Mr. Langton joined in this, but
added, he could have wished to hear more from an-
other person ; (plainly intimating that he meant Mr.
Burke.) ' O, no, (said Mr. Burke) it is enough for me
to have rung the bell to him."
" Beauclerk having observed to him of one of their
friends, that he was awkward at counting money,
' Why, Sir, said Johnson, I am likewise awkward at
counting money. But then. Sir, the reason is plain ;
I have had very little money to count."
" He had an abhorrence of affectatiori. Talking of
old Mr. Langton, of whom he said, * Sir, you will sel-
dom see such a gentleman, such are his stores of
literature, such his knowledge in divinity, and such
his exemplary life ;' he added, ' and Sir, he has no
grimace, no gesticulation, no bursts of admiration on
trivial occasions ; he never embraces you with an over-
acted cordiality/'
TOT.. TTT^ 91
l62 ' THE LIFE 0¥
1780. " Being in company with a gentleman who thought
^J^ fit to maintain L)r, Berkeley's ingenious philosophy,
71. that nothing exists but as perceived by some mind ;
when the gentleman was going away, Johnson said to
him, ' Pray, Sir, don't leave us ; for we may perhaps
forget to think of you, and then you will cease to exist."
" Goldsmith upon being visited by Johnson one
day in the Temple, said to him with a little jealousy
of the appearance of his accommodation, ' I shall soon
be in better chambers than these.' Johnson at the
same time checked him and paid him a handsome
compliment, implying that a man of his talents should
be above attention to such distinctions,—' Nay, Sir,
never mind that. Ni/ te quossiveris extra"
" At the time when his pension was granted to him,
he said, with a noble literary ambition, ' Had this
happened twenty years ago, I should have gone to
Constantinople to learn Arabick, as Pococke did."
" As an instance of the niceness of his taste, though
he praised West's translation of Pindar, he pointed out
the following passages as faulty, by expressing a cir-
cumstance so minute as to detract from the general
dignity which should prevail :
Down then from thy glittering nail,
Take, O muse thy Dorian lyre."
" When Mr. Vesey» was proposed as a member of
the Literary C'lub, Mr. Burke began by saying
that he was a man of gentle "manners. ' Sir, said
Johnson, you need say no more. When you have
said a man of gentle manners ; you have said enough."
" The late Mr. Fitzherbert told Mr. Langton, that
Johnson said to him, ' Sir, a man has no more right to
say an uncivil thing, than to act one ; no more right
to say a rude thing to another than to knock him
down."
" My dear friend Dr. Bathurst, (said he with a
warmth of approbation) declared, he was glad that his
' [The Right Honourable Agmondesham Vesey was elected a member of the
Literary Club in 1773, and died in 1784. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 163
father, Avho was a West-Indian planter, had left his '780.
affairs in total ruin, because having no estate, he was ^^^
not under the temptation of having slaves." 7i\ *
" Richardson had little conversation, except about
his own works, of which Sir Joshua Reynolds said he
was always willing to talk, and glad to have thetn in-
troduced. Johnson when he carried Mr. Langton to
see him, professed that he could bring him out into
conversation, and used this allusive expression, ' Sir, 1
can make him rear.^ But he failed ; for in that inter-
view Richardson said little else than that there lay in
the room a translation of his Clarissa into German."''
*' Once when somebody produced a newspaper in
which there was a letter of stupid abuse of Sir Joshua
Reynolds, of which Johnson himself came in for a
share, — ' Pray, said he, let us have it read aloud from
beginning to end ;' which being done, he with a lu-
dicrous earnestness, and not directing his look to any
particular person, called out, ' Are we alive after all
this satire !"
^' He had a strong prejudice against the political
character of Seeker, one instance of which appeared
at Oxford, where he expressed great dissatisfaction at
his varying the old established toast, ' Church and
King.' ' The Archbishop of Canterbur3% said he
(with an affected smooth smiling grimace) drinks,
' Constitution in Church and State.' Being asked
what difference there was between the two toasts, he
said, ' Why, Sir, you may be sure he meant something.'
2 A literar^"^ lady has favoured me with a characteristick anecdote of Richard-
son. One day at his country-house at Northend, where a large company was as-
eembled at dinner, a gentleman who was just returned from Paris, willing to please
Mr. Richardson, mentioned to him a very flattering circumstance, — that he had
seen his Clarissa lying on the King's brother's table. Richardson observing that
part of the company were engaged in talking to each other, affected then not to
attend to it. But by and by, when there was a general silence, and he thought
that the flattery might be fully heard, he addressed himself to the gentleman, ' I
think. Sir, you were saying something about,' — pausing in a high flutter of expect-
ation. The gentleman provoked at his inordinate vanity, resolved not to indulge
it, and with an exquisitely sly air of indifference answered, ' A mere trifle, Sir, not
worth repeating.' The mortification of Richardson was visible, and he did not
speak ten words more the whole day. Dr. Johnson was present, and appeared to
enioy it much.
164- THE LIFE OP
1780. Yet when the life of that prelate, prefixed to his ser-
JJJ^ mens by Dr. Porteus and Dr. Stinton his chaplains,
7j. first came out, he read it with the utmost avidity, and
said, ' It is a life well written, and that well deserves
to be recorded."
" Of a certain noble Lord, he said, ' Respect him,
you could not ; for he had no mind of his own. Love
him you could not ; for that which you could do with
him, every one else could."
" Of Dr. Goldsmith he said, ' No man was more
foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, or more
wise when he had."
" He told in his lively manner the following literary
anecdote : ' Green and Guthrie, an Irishman and a
Scotchman, undertook a translation of Duhalde's his-
tory of China. Green said of Guthrie, that he knew
no English, and Guthrie of Green, that he knew no
French ; and these two undertook to translate Du-
halde's history of China. In this translation there was
found " the twenty-sixth day of the new moon." Now
as the whole age of the moon is but twenty-eight days,
the moon instead of being new, was nearly as old as it
could be. The blunder arose from their mistaking the
word neiivihne ninth, nouvelle or neuve^ nevt'."
" Talking of Dr. Blagden's copiousness and precision
of communication. Dr. Johnson said, ' Blagden, Sir, is
a delightful fellow."
" On oc(!asion of Dr. Johnson's publishing his pam-
phlet of ' The False Alarm,' tliere came out a very
angry answer (by many supposed to be by Mr. Wilkes.)
Dr. Johnson determined on not answering it ; but, in
conversation with Mr. Langton mentioned a particular
or two, which if he hud replied to it, he might perhaps
have inserted. — In the answerer's pamphlet, it had been
said with solemnity, ' Do you consider, Sir, that a
House of .Commons is to the people as a creature is to
its Creator.' To this question, said Dr. Johnson, I
could have replied, that — in the first place — the idea
of a Creator must be such as that he has a power to
unmake or annihilate his creature.
DR. JOHNSON. . 165
" Then it cannot be conceived that a creature can '780.
make laws for its Creator.^ MisA.
" Depend upon it, said he, that if a man fa/ks of his 71.
misfortunes, there is something in them that is not dis-
agreeable to him ; for where there is nothing but pure
misery, there never is any recourse to the mention of
it. —
*' A man must be a poor beast, that should read no
more in quantity than he could utfer aloud. —
" Imlac in " Rasselas," 1 spelt with a c at the end,
because it is less like English, which should always
have the Saxon k added to the c*
" Many a man is mad in certain instances, and goes
through life without having it perceived ; — for example,
a madness has seized a person of supposing himself
obliged literally to pray continually ; had the madness
turned the opposite way, and the person thought it a
crime ever to pray, it might not improbably have con-
tinued unobserved.
*' He apprehended that the delineation of characters
in the end of the first Book of the ' Retreat of the ten
thousand' was the first instance of the kind that was
known.
" Supposing (said he) a wife to be of a studious or ar-
gumentative turn, it would be very troublesome : for
instance, — if a woman should continually dwell upon
the subject of the Arian heresy.
" No man speaks concerning another, even suppose
it be in his praise, if he thinks he does not hear him, ex-
actly as he would, if he thought he was within hearing.
" The applause of a single human being is of great
consequence :" This he said to me with great earnest-
ness of manner, very near the time of his decease, on
occasion of having desired me to read a letter addressed
^ His profound adoration of the Great First Cause was such as to sethim above
that " Philosophy and vain deceit," with which men of narrow conceptions have
been infected. I have heard him strongly maintain that " what is right is not so
from any natural fitness, but because God wills it to be right ;" and it is certainly
so, because he has predisposed the relations of things so as that which he wills must
be right. Boswell.
• I hope the authority of the great Master of our language will stop that cur-
tailing innovation, by which we see critic, public, &c. frequently written instead Qf
critickyfuLlici, &C.
166 THE LIFE OF
1780. to him from some person in the North of England ;
iEtat^ which when 1 had done, and he asked me what the
71. contents were, as 1 thought being particular upon it
might fatigue him, it being of great length, 1 only told
him in general that it was highly in his praise ; — and
then he expressed himself as above.
" He mentioned with an air of satisfaction what Ba-
retti had told him ; that, meeting, in the course of his
studying i^'inglish, with an excellent paper in the Spec-
tator, one of four that were written by the respectable
Dissenting Minister Mr. Grove of Taunton, and observ-
ing the genius and energy of mind that it exhibits, it
greatly quickened his curiosity to visit our country ;
as he thought, if such were the lighter periodical essays
of our authours, their productions on more weighty oc-
casions must be wonderful indeed !
" He observed once, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, that a
beggar in the street will more readily ask alms from a
man^ though there should be no marks of wealth in his
appearance, than from even a well-dressed zooman ;«
which he accounted for from the great degree of care-
fulness as to money, that is to be found in women ;
saying farther upon it, that, the opportunities in gener-
al that they possess of improving their condition are
much fewer than men have ; and adding, as he looked
round the company, which consisted of men only, —
there is not one of us who does not think he might be
richer, if he would use his endeavour.
" He thus characterised an ingenious writer of his
acquaintance; ' Sir, he is an enthusiast by rule.'
" He maij holdup that shield against all his ene-
mies ;" — was an observation on Homer, in reference
to his description of the shield of Achilles, made by
Mrs. Fitzherbert, wife to his friend Mr. Fitzherbert of
Derbyshire, and respected by Dr. Johnson as a very
fine one. He had in general a very high opinion of
that lady's understandmg.
"An observation of Bathurst's may be mentioned,
which Johnson repeated, appearing to acknowledge it
■■ Sterne is of a direct contrary opinion. See his " Sentimental lourney," Arti-
cle, " Tf'e Mystery '' BoswEtt.
DR. JOHNSON. 167
to be well founded ; namely, it was' sonne what remark- i78i.
able how seldom, on occasion of coming into the com- ]£j[^^
pany of any new person, one felt any wish or inclination 72.
to see him again."
This year the Reverend Dr. Franklin having pub-
lished a translation of " Lucian," inscribed to him the
Demonax thus :
" To Dr. Samuel Johnson, the Demonax of the
present age, this piece is inscribed by a sincere admir-
er of his respectable talents,
The Translator.'^
Though upon a particular comparison of Demonax
and Johnson, there does not seem to be a great deal
of similarity between them, this Dedication is a just
compliment from the general chararter given by Lurian
of the ancient Sage, " cn^inov uv cila. eyw (piKo(TO(puy yiyofjLiYoy,
the best philosopher whom i have ever seen or known."
In 1781, Johnson at last completed his " Lives of
the Poets," of which he gives this account : " Some
time in March 1 finished the * Lives of the Poets/
which I wrote in my usual way, dilatorily and hastily,
unwilling to work, and working with vigour and haste."®
In a memorandum previous to this, he says of them :
" Written, I hope, in such a manner as may tend to
the promotion of piety." ^
This is the work, which of all Dr. Johnson's writ-
ings will perhaps be read most generally, and with
most pleasure. Philology and biography were his
favourite pursuits, and those who lived most in inti-
macy with him, heard him upon all occasions, when
there was a proper opportunity, take delight in expa-
tiating upon the various merits of the English Poets :
upon the niceties of their characters, and the events
of their progress through the world which they contrib-
uted to illuminate. His mind was so full of that
kind of information, and it was so well arranged in
'■ Prayers and Meditations, p. 199 - Ibid. 174.
168 THE LIFE OF
1781. his memory, that in performing what he had under-
^^ taken in this way, he had little more to do than to put
72. his thoughts upon paper ; exhibiting first each Poet's
life, and then subjoining a critical examination of his
genius and works. But when he began to write, the
subject swelled in such a manner, that instead of pre-
faces to each poet, of no more than a few pages, as he
had originally intended, « he produced an ample, rich,
and most entertaining view of them in every respect.
In this he resembled Quintilian, who tells us, that in
the composition of his Institutions of Oratory, " Latiils
se tamen aperient e materia, plus qncim imponebatur
oneris sponie suscepi" The booksellers, justly sensi-
ble of the great additional value of the copy-right,
presented him with another hundred pounds, over and
above two hundred, for which his agreement was to
furnish such prefaces as he thought fit.
This was, however, but a small recompence for such
a collection of biography, and such principles and illus-
trations of criticism, as, if digested and arranged in
one system, by some modern Aristotle or Longinus,
might form a code upon that subject, such as no other
nation can shew. As he was so good as to make me a
present of the greatest part of the original and indeed
only manuscript of this admirable work, I have an op-
portunity of observing with wonder the correctness
with which he rapidly struck off such glowing compo-
sition. He may be assimilated to the Lady in Waller,
who could impress with " Love at first sight :"
" Some other nymphs with colours faint,
" And pencil slow, may Cupid paint,
" And a weak heart in time destroy ;
" She has a stamp, and prints the boy."
8 His design is tlius announced in his Ad-vertisement : " The Booksellers having
determined to publish a body of English Poetry, I was persuaded to promise them
a preface to the works of each authour ; an undertaking, as it was then presented
to my mind, not very tedious or difficult.
" My purpose was only to have allotted to every poet an Advertisement, like that
which we find in the French Miscellanies, containing a lew dates, and a general
character ; but I have been led beyond my intention, I hope by the honest desire
of giving useful pleasure."
DR. JOHNSON, 169
That he, however, had a good deal of trouble, and ^78 1.
some anxiety in carrying on the work, we see from J^^^
a series of letters to Mr. Nichols the printer,^ whose 72, *
variety of literary enquiry and obliging disposition,
rendered him useful to Johnson. Mr. Steevens appears,
from the papers in my possession, to have supplied
him with some anecdotes and quotations ; and I ob-
serve the fair hand of Mrs. Thrale as one of his copyists
of select passages. But he was principally indebted to
my steady friend Mr. Isaac Reed, of Staple-inn, whose
extensive and accurate knowledge of English literary
History I do not express with exaggeration, when I
tay it is wonderful ; indeed his labours have proved it
to the world ; and all who have the pleasure of his
acquaintance can bear testimony to the frankness of
his communications in private society.
It is not my intention to dwell upon each of John-
son's " Lives of the Poets," or attempt an analysis of
their merits, which, were 1 able to do it, would take
"> Thus : — " In the Life of Waller, Mr. Nichols will find a reference to the Par-
liamentary History, from which a long quotation is to be inserted. If Mr. Nichols
cannot easily find the book, Mr. Johnson will send it from Streatham."
" Clarendon is here returned."
" By some accident, I laid your note upon Duke up so safely, that I cannot find
it. Your informations have been of great use to me. I must beg it again ; with
another list of our authours, for I have laid that wth the other. I have sent Step-
ney's Epitaph. Let me have the revises as soon as can be. Dec. 1778."
" I have sent Philips, with his Epitaphs, to be inserted. The fragment of a pre-
face is hardly worth the impression, but that we may seem to do something. It may
be added to the Life of Philips. The Latin page i* to be added to the Life of
Smith. I shall be at home to revise the two sheets of Milton. March 1, 1779."
" Please to get me the last edition of Hughes's letters ; and try to get Dennis
upon Blackmore, and upon Cato, and any thing of the same writer against Pope.
Our materials are defective."
" As Waller professed to have imitated Fairfax, do you think a few pages of
Fairfax would enrich our edition ? Few readers have seen it, and it may please
them. But it is not necessary."
" An account of the lives and works of some of the most eminent English Poets.
By, &c. — ' The Enghsh Poets, biographically and critically considered, by Sam.
Johnson.' — Let Mr. Nichols take his choice, or make another to his mind. May,
1781."
" You somehow forgot the advertisement for the new edition. It was not enclos-
ed. Of Gay's Letters I see not that any use can be made, for they give no inior-
mation of any thing. That he was a member of a Philosophical Society is some-
thing ; but surely he could be but a corresponding member. However, not hav-
ing his life here, I know not how to put it in, and it is of little importance."
See several more in "The Gentleman's Magazine," 1785. The Editor of that
Miscellany, in which Johnson wrote for several years, seems justly to think that
every fragment of so great a man is worthy of beiog preserved.
VOL. IH. 22
1/0 THE LIFE OF
1781. up too much room in this work ; yet I shall make a
^taT ^^^^ observations upon some of them, and insert a few
72. various readings.
The Life of Cowley he himself considered as the
best of the whole, on account of the dissertation which
it contains on the lijefapfufsical Poets. Dryden, whose
critical abihties were equal to his poetical, had men-
tioned them in his excellent Dedication of his Jnvenal,
but had barely mentioned them. Johnson has exhib-
ited them at large, with such happy illustration from
their writings, and in so luminous a manner, that in-
deed he may be allowed the full merit of novelty, and
to have discovered to us, as it were, a new planet in
the poetical hen^sphere.
It is remarked by Johnson, in considering the works
of a poet,' that " amendments are seldom made with-
out some token of a rent ;" but I do not find that this
is applicable to prose. ^ We shall see that though his
amendments in this work are for the better, there is
nothmg of the pannus assutus ; the texture is uniform :
and indeed, what had been there at first, is very sel-
dom unfit to have remained.
Various Readings'^ in the Life of Cowley.
" All [future votaries of] that may hereafter pant for
solitude.
" To conceive and execute the [agitation or percep-
tion] jw«m5 and the pleasures of other minds.
" The wide effulgence of [the blazing] a summer
noon."
In the Life of Waller, Johnson gives a distinct
and animated narrative of publick affairs in that varie-
gated period, with strong yet nice touches of charac-
> Life of Sheffield
^ [See, however, p. 1 48, of this volume.where the same remark is made, and John-
son is there speaking of proie. In his Life of Dryden, his observations in the Opera
of " King Arthur" furnish a striking instance of the truth of this remark. M.]
' The original reading is enclosed in crotchets, and the present one is printed in
ftalicks.
DR. JOHNSON. 171
ter ; and having a fair opportunity to display his '78i.
poHtical principles, does it with an unqualified manly ^^
confidence, and satisfies his readers how nobly he 72. '
might have executed a Torij History of his country.
So easy is his style in these Lives, that 1 do not rec-
ollect more than three uncommon or learned words ;
one, when giving an account of the approach of Wal-
ler's mortal disease, he says, " he found his legs grow
tumid ;" by using the expression his legs sKellecl^ he
would have avoided this ; and there would have been
no impropriety in its being followed by the interest-
ing question to his physician, " What that swelling
meant V^ Another, when he mentions that Pope had
emitted proposals ; when published or issued, would
have been more readily understood ; and a third, when
he calls Orrery and Dr. Delany, writers both undoubt-
edly veracious ; when true, honest, or faithful, might
have been used. Yet, it must be owned, that none of
these are hard or too big words : that custom would
make them seem as easy as any others ; and that a
language is richer and capable of more beauty of ex-
pression, by having a greater variety of synonimes.
His dissertation upon the unfitness of poetry for the
aweful subjects of our holy religion, though I do not
entirely agree with him, has all the merit of originality,
with uncommon force and reasoning.
Various Readings in the Life of Waller.
^' Consented to [the insertion of their names] their
own nomination,
" [After] patjing a fine of ten thousand pounds.
" Congratulating Charles the Second on his [coro-
nation] recovered right.
" He that has flattery ready for all whom the vicissi-
tudes of the world happen to exalt, must be [confessed
to degrade his powers] scorned as a prostituted mind.
" The characters by which Waller intended to dis-
tinguish his writings are [elegance] spnghtliness and
dignity.
" Blossoms to be valued only as they [fetch] ybre/e//
fruits.
173 THE LIFE OF
1781. "Images such as the superficies of nature [easily]
^^ readihf supplies.
72. *' [His] Some applications [are sometimes] may be
thought too remote and unconsequential.
" His images are [sometimes confused] not ahiiays
distinct"
Against his Life of Milton, the hounds of Whig-
gism have opened in full crv. But ot Milton's great
excellence as a p>oet, where shall we find such a blazon
as by the hand of Johnson ! 1 shall select only tiie fol-
lowing passage concerning " Paradise Lost ;"
" Fancy can hardly forbear to conjecture with what
temper Milton surveyed the silent progress of his work,
and marked his reputation stealing its way in a kind of
subterraneous current, through fear and silence. I
cannot but conceive him calm and confident, little dis-
appointed, not at all dejected, relying on his own merit
with steady consciousness, and waiting without impa-
tience, the vicissitudes of opinion, and the impartiality
of a future generation."
Indeed even Dr. Towers, who may be considered as
one of the warmest zealots of The Revolution Society
itself, allows, that " Johnson has spoken in the high-
est terms of the abilities of that great poet, and has
bestowed on his principal poetical compositions, the
most honourable encomiums."*
That a man, who venerated tho Church and Mon-
archy as Johnson did, should speak with a justabhor-
4 See " An Essay on the Lite, Character, and Writings of Dr. Samuel Johnson."
London, 1787 ; which b very well written, making a proper allowance for thede-
niocratical bigotry of its authour : whom I cannot however but admire for his hb-
erality in speaking thus of my illustrious friend :
" He possessed extraordinary powers of understanding, which were much culti-
vated by study, and still more by meditation and reflection. His memory was re-
markably retentive, his imagination uncommonly vigorous, and his judgement
keen and penetrating. He had a strong sense of the importance of religion ; his
piety was sincere, and sometimes ardent ; and his zeal for the interests of virtue was
often manifested in his conversation and in his writings. The same energy which
was displayed in his literary productions was exhibited also in his conversation,
which was various, striking, and instructive ; and perhaps no man ever equalled
him for nervous and pointed repartees.
" His Dictionary, his moral Essays, and his productions in polite literature, will
convey useful instruction, and elegant entertainment, as long as the language ift
Ts'hich they are written shall be understood."
DR. JOHNSON. 173
fence of Milton as a politician, or rather as a daring ^81.
foe to good polity, was surely to be expected ; and to ^^
those who censure him, 1 would recommend his com- 72.
mentary on Milton's celebrated complaint of his situa-
tion, when by the lenity of Charles the Second, " a
lenity of which (as Johnson well observes) the world
has had perhaps no other example, he, who had writ-
teo in justification of the murder of his Sovereign, was
safe under an Act of 06/ivion" " No sooner is he
safe than he finds himself in danger,ya//^« on evil days
and evil tongues^ zmth darkness and with dangers corU'^
passed round. This darkness, had his eyes been better
employed, had undoubtedly deserved compassion ; but
to add the mention of danger, was ungrateful and un-
just. He was fallen, indeed, on evil days ; the time
was come in which regicides could no longer boast
their wickedness. But of evil tongues for Milton to
complain, required imprudence at least equal to his
other powers ; Milton, whose warmest advocates must
allow, that he never spared any asperity of reproach,
or brutality of insolence."
1 have, indeed, often wondered how Milton, " an
acrimonious and surly Republican,"* — " a man who
in his domestick relations was so severe and arbitrary," '
and whose head was filled with the hardest and most
dismal tenets of Calvinism, should have been such a
poet ; should not only have written with sublimity,
but with beauty, and even gaiety ; should have ex-
quisitely painted the sweetest sensations of which our
nature is capable ; imaged the delicate raptures of con-
nubial love ; nay, seemed to be animated with all the
spirit of revelry. It is a proof that in the human mind
the departments of judgement and imagination, per-
ception and temper, may sometimes be divided by
strong partitions ; and that the light and shade in the
same character may be kept so distinct as never to be
blended. "^
♦ Johnson's Life of Milton. » Ibid.
* Mr. Malone thinks it is rather a proof that he felt n6thing of those cheerful
sensations which he has described : that on these topicks it is the ^oet, and not the'
man, that writes.
174 THE LIFE OF
1781. In the Life of Milton, Johnson took occasion to main-
^^ tain his own and the general opinion of the excellence
72. of rhyme over blank verse, in English poetrv ; and quotes
this apposite illustration of it by " an ingenious critick,"
that it seems to be verse only to the eye.'' The gentle-
man whom he thus characterises, is (as he told Mr. Se-
ward) Mr. Lock, of Norbury Park, in Surrey, whose
knowledge and taste in the fine arts is universally cele-
brated ; with whose elegance of manners the writer of
the present work has felt himself much impressed, and
to whose virtues a common friend, who has known him
long, and is not much addicted to flattery, gives the
highest testimony.
Various Readings in the Life o/* Milton.
" I cannot find any meaning but this which [his most
bigoted advocates] even kindness and reverence can give.
" [Perhaps no] scarcely any man ever wrote so much,
and praised so few.
" A certain \ye%c\xe\ preservative from oblivion.
" Let me not be censured for this digression, as [con-
tracted] pedantick or paradoxical.
" Socrates rather was of opinion, that what we had
to learn was how to [obtain and communicate happi-
ness] do good and avoid evil.
" Its elegance [who can exhibit ]] is less attainable"
I could, with pleasure, expatiate upon the masterly
execution of the Life of Dryden, which we have seen*
was one of Johnson's literary projects at an early period,
and which it is remarkable, that after desisting from it,
from a supposed scantiness of materials, he should, at
an advanced age, have exhibited so amply.
His defence of that great poet against the illiberal at-
tacks upon him, as if his embracing the Roman Catho-
■> One of the most natural instances of the effect of blank verse occurred to the
late Earl of Hopeton. His Lordship observed one of his shepherds poring in the
fields upon Milton's " Paradise Lost ;" and having asked him what book it was,
the man answered, " An't please your Lordship, this is a very odd sort of an au-
thour : he would fain rhyme, but cannot get at h."
» See Vol. II. page 333,
DR. JOHNSON. 175
lick communion had been a time-serving measure, is a *78i.
piece of reasoning at once able and candid. Indeed, ^J^
Dryden himself, in his " Hind and Panther," hath given 72. *
such a picture of his mind, that they who know the
anxiety for repose as to the aweful subject of our state
beyond the grave, though they may think his opinion
ill-founded, must think charitably of his sentiment :
" But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide
" For erring judgements an unerring guide !
" Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light,
" A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.
" O ! teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd,
" And search no farther than thyself reveaPd ;
" But Her alone for my director take,
" Whom thou hast promisM never to forsake.
" My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires;
" My manhood long misled by wand'ring fires,
" Follow'd false lights ; and when their glimpse was
gone,
" My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.
" Such was 1, such by nature still 1 am ;
" Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.
" Good hfe be now my task : my doubts are done ;
" What more could shock my faith than Three in
One ?"
In drawing Dryden's character, Johnson has given,
though 1 suppose unintentionally, some touches of his
own. Thus : " The power that predominated in his
intellectual operations was rather strong reason than
quick sensibility. Upon all occasions that were present-
ed, he studied rather than felt ; and produced sentiments
not such as Nature enforces, but meditation supplies.
With the simple and elemental passions as they spring
separate in the mind, he seems not much acquainted.
He is, therefore, with all his variety of excellence, not
often pathetick ;^ and had so little sensibihty of the
power of effusions purely natural, that he did not esteem
' [It seems to me, that there are maoy pathetick passages ip. /•boson's W9rks,
bath prose and verse. K.]
176 THE LIFE OF
1781. them in others/* — Tt may indeed be observed, that in
2J^ ali the numerous writings of Johnson, whether in prose
72, or verse, and even in his Tragedy, of which the subject
is the distress of an unfortunate Princess, there is not
a single passage that ever drew a tear.
Various Headings in the Life o/" Dry den.
" The reason of this general perusal, Addison has at-
tempted to [find in] derive from the delight which the
mind feels in the investigation of secrets.
" His best actions are but [convenient] inability of
wickedness.
" When once he had engaged himself in disputation,
[matter] thoughts flowed in on either side.
" The abyss of an un-ideal [emptiness] raca^zcy.
*' These, like [many other harlots,] the harlots ofoth"
er men^ had his love though not his approbation.
*' He [sometimes displays] descends to display his
knowledge with pedantick ostentation.
" French words which [were then used in] had then
crept into conversation."
The Life of Pope was written bv Johnson con amore,
both from the early possession which that writer had taken
of his mind, and from the pleasure which he must have
felt, in for ever silencing all attempts to lessen his po-
etical fame, by demonstrating his excellence, and pro-
nouncing the following triumphant eulogium : — '' Af-
ter all this, it is surely superfluous to answer the ques-
tion that has once been asked. Whether Pope was a
poet? otherwise than by asking in return, if Pope be
not a poet, where is poetry to be found ? To circum-
scribe poetry by a definition, will only shew the nar-
rowness of the definer ; though a definition which shall
exclude Pope will not easily be made. Let us look
round upon the present time, and back upon the past ,
let us enquire to whom the voice of mankind has de-
creed the wreath of poetry ; let their productions be
examined, and their claims stated, and the pretensions
of Pope will be no more disputed/'
DR. JOHNSON. 177
I remember once to have heard Johnson say, " Sir, '781.
a thousand years may elapse before there shall appear ^Et^.
another man with a power of versification equal to 72. *
that of Pope." That power must undoubtedly be al-
lowed its due share in enhancing the value of his cap-
tivating composition.
Johnson who had done liberal justice to Warburton
in his edition of Shakspeare, which was published dur-
ing the life of that powerful writer, with still greater
liberality took an opportunity, in the life of Pope, of
paying the tribute due to him when he was no longer
in " high place," but numbered with the dead.'
' Of Jolinson's conduct towards Warburton, a very honourable notice is taken
by the Editor of " Tracts by Warburton, and a Warburtoniau, not admitted into
the Collection of their respective Works." After an able and " fond, though not
undistinguishing," consideration of Warburton's character, he says, " In two im-
mortal works, Johnson has stood forth in the foremost rank of his admirers. By
the testimony of such a man, impertinence must be abashed, and maHgnity itself
must be softened. Of literary merit, Johnson, as we all know, was a sagacious
but a most severe judge. Such was his discernment, that he pierced into the most
secret springs of human actions ; and such was his integrity, that he always weigh-
ed the moral characters of his fellow-creatures in the ' balance of the sanctuary.*
He was too courageous to propitiate a rival, and too proud to truckle to a supe-
riour. Warburton he knew, as I know him, and as every man of sense and virtue
would wish to be known, —I mean, both from his own writings, and from the
writings of those who dissented from his principles, or who envied his reputation.
But, as to favours, he had never received or asked any from the Bishop of Glou-
cester : and, if my memory fails me not, he had seen him only once, when they met
almost without design, conversed without mucli effort, and parted without any last-
ing impression of hatred or affection. Yet, with all the ardour of sympathetick
genius, Johnson had done that spontaneously and ably, which, by some writers,
had been before attempted injudiciouslv, and which, by others, from whom more
successful attempts might have been expected, has not hitherto been done at alL
He spoke well of Warburton, without insulting those whom Warburton deepised.
He suppressed not the imperfections of this extraordinary man, while he endeav-
oured to do justice to his numerous and transcendental excellencies. He defend-
ed him when living, amidst the clamours of his enemies ; and praised him when
dead, amidst the silence of his friends"
Having availed myself of this editor's eulogj' on my departed friend, for which
I warmly thank him, let me not suffer the lustre of liis reputation, honestly acquir-
ed by profound learning and vigorous eloquence, to be tarnished by a charge of
iUiberality. He has been accused of invidiously dragging again into light certain
writings of a person respectable by his talents, his learning, his station and his age,
which were pubhshed a great many years ago, and have since, it is said, been si-
lently given up by their authour. But when it is considered that these writings
were not sins of youth, but deUberate works of one well-advanced in hfe, overflow-
ing at once with flattery to a great man of great interest in the Church, and with
unjust and acrimonious abuse of two men of eminent merit ; and that, though it
would have been unreasonable to expect an humiliating recantation, no apology
whatever has been made in the cool of the evening, for the oppressive fervour
of the heat of the day ; no sUght relenting indication has appeared in any note, or
any corner of later publication? ; is it not fair to understand him as superciliously
voK. in. o.'j
178 THE LIFE OF
^781. It seems strange, that two such men as Johnson and
iFtai ^V^^'l^nrton, who lived in the same age and country,
72. should not only not have been in any degree of inti-
macy, but been ahiiost personally unacquainted. But
such instances, though we must wonder at them, are
not rare. If I am rightly informed, after a careful en-
quiry, they never met but once, which was at the
house of Mrs. French, in London, well known for her
elegant assemblies, and bringing eminent characters
together. The interview proved to be mutually
agreeable.
1 am well informed, that Warburton said of Johnson,
" 1 admne him, but 1 cannot bear his style :" and that
Johnson being told of this, said, " That is exactly my
case as to him.'* The manner in which he expressed
his admiration of the fertility of Warburton's genius
and of the variety of his materials, was, " The table is
always full, Sir. He brings things from the north, and
the south, and from every quarter. In his ' Divine
Legation,' you are always entertained. He carries
you round and round, without carrying you forward to
the point ; but then you have no wish to be carried
forward." He said to the Reverend Mr. Strahan,
" VVarburton is perhaps the last man who has written
with a mind full of reading and reflection."
It is remarkable, that in the Life of Broome, John-
son takes notice of Dr. Warburton using a mode of
expression which he himself used, and that not seldom,
to the great offence of those who did not know him.
Having occasion to mention a note, stating the differ-
ent parts which were executed by the associated trans-
lators of " The Odyssey," he says, " Dr. Warburton
told me, in his warm language, that he thought the
relation given in the note a lie. The language is xisarm
indeed ; and, I must own, cannot be justified in con-
sistency with a decent regard to the established forms
of speech." Johnson had accustomed himself to use
the word Ue^ to express a mistake or an errour in rela-
persevering ? Wlien he allows the shafts to remain in the wounds, and will not
stretch forth a lenient hand, is it wrong, is it not generous to become an indignant
avenger ?
DR. JOHNSON. 179
tion ; in short, when the thing was not so as toJd, nsi.
though the relator did not mean to deceive. \V hen he ^t^
thought there was inteniional falsehood in the relator, 72.
his expression was, " He lies^ and he knoics he /ies.'*
Speaking of Pope's not having been known to excel
in conversation, Johnson observes, that, " traditional
memory retains no sallies of raillery, or sentences of
observation ; nothing either pointed or solid, wise or
merry ; and that one apophthegm only is recorded."
In this respect, Pope differed widely from Johnson,
whose conversation was, perhaps, more admirable than
even his writings, however excellent. Mr. Wilkes
has, however, favoured me with one repartee of Pope,
of which Johnson was not informed. Johnson, after
justly censuring him for having " nursed in his inind
a foolish dis-esteem of Kings," tells us, " yet a little
regard shewn him by the Prince of Wales melted his
obduracy ; and he had not much to say when he was
asked by his Royal Highness, how he could' love a
Prince^ while he disliked Kings /" The answer which
pope made, was, " The young lion is harmless, and
even playful ; but when his claws are full grown he
becomes cruel, dreadful and mischievous."
But although we have no collection of Pope's say-
ings, it is not therefore to be concluded, thai he was
not agreeable in social intercourse ; for Johnson has
been heard to say, that " the happiest conversation is
that of which nothing is distinctly remembered, but
a general effect of pleasing impression." The late
Lord Somerville,^ who saw much both of great and
brilliant life, told me, that he had dined in company
with Pope, and that after dinner the little man, as he
^ [James Lord SomervIIIe, who died in 1766. M.]
Let me here express my grateful remembrance of Lord Somerville's kindness to
me, at a very early period. He was the first person of high rank that took partic-
ular notice of me in the way most flattering to a young man fondly ambitious of
being distinguished for his Uterary talents ; and by the honour of his encourage-
ment made me think well of myself, and aspire to deserve it better. He had a
happy art of communicating his varied knowledge of the world, in short remarks
and anecdotes, with a quiet pleasant gravity, that was exceedingly engaging. Nev-
er shall I forget the hours which I enjoyed with him at his apartments in the Royal
Palace of Holy-Rood House, and at his seat near Edinburgh, which he himself had
formed with an elegant taste.
180 THE LIFE OF
1781. called him, drank his bottle of Burgundy, and was ex-
]g^ ceedingly gay and entertaining.
72. I cannot withhold from my great friend a censure of
at least culpable inattention, to a nobleman, who, it
has been shewn, behaved to him with uncommon
politeness. He says, " Except Lord Bathurst, none
of Pope's noble friends were such as that a good man
would wish to have his intimacy with them known to
posterity.^' This will not apply to Lord Mansfield,
who was not ennobled in Pope's life time ; but John-
son should have recollected, that Lord Marchmont
was one of those noble friends. He includes his Lord-
ship along with Lord Bolingbroke, in a charge of
neglect of the papers which Pope left by his will ;
when, in truth, as 1 myself pointed out to him, before
he wrote that poet's life, the papers were " committed
to the sole care and judgement of Lord Bolingbroke,
unless he (Lord Bolingbroke) shall not survive me ;"
so that Lord Marchmont had no concern whatever
with them. After the first edition of the Lives, Mr.
Malone, whose love of justice is equal to his accuracy,
made, in my hearing, the same remark to Johnson ;
yet he omitted to correct the erroneous statement. ^
These particulars I mention, in the belief that there
was only forgetfulness in my friend ; but I owe this
much to the Earl of Marchmont's reputation, who,
were there no other memorials, will be immortalized
by that line of Pope, in the verses on his Grotto :
" And the bright flame was shot through March-
mont's soul."
Various Readings in the Life of Pope.
*' [Somewhat free] siifijciently hold in his criticism.
" All the gay [niceties] varieties of diction.
" Strikes the imagination with far [more] greater
force.
' [This neglect, Iiowever, assuredly did not arise from any ill-will towards Lord
Marchmont, but from inattention ; just as he neglected to correct the statement
concerning the family of Tliomson, the poet, aft«r it had been shewn to be erro-
neous. M.]
I
DR. JOHNSON* ISl
"It is [probably] certainlij the noblest version of '781.
poetry which the world has ever seen. ^mx^,
" Every sheet enabled him to write the next with 72.*
[less trouble] more facility
" No man sympathizes with [vanity depressed] the
Mr rows ofvanitij.
" It had been [criminal] less easily excused.
" When he [threatened to lay down] talked of laying
down his pen.
" Society [is so named emphatically in opposition to]
politically regulated^ is a state contra-distinguished from
a state of nature.
" A fictitious life of an [absurd] infatuated scholar.
" A foolish [contempt, disregard,] disesteein of Kings.
^' His hopes and fears, his joys and sorrows [were
like those of other mortals] acted strongly upon his
mind.
" Eager to pursue knowledge and attentive to [accu-
mulate] retain it.
" A mind [excursive] active.^ ambitious, and adven-
turous.
" In its [noblest] widest searches still longing to go
forward.
" He wrote in such a manner as might expose him
to few [neglects] hazards.
" The [reasonableness] justice of my determination.
" A [favourite] delicious employment of the poets.
" More terrifick and more powerful \hG\\\^^^ phantoms
perform on the stormy ocean.
" The inventor of [those] this petty [beings] nation.
" The [mind] heart naturally loves truth."
In the Life of Addison we find an unpleasing ac-
count of his having lent vSteele a hundred pounds, and
" reclaimed his loan by an execution." In the new
edition of the Biographia Britannica, the authenticity
of this anecdote is denied. But Mr. Malone has oblig-
ed me with the following note concerning it : —
" Many persons having doubts concerning this fact,
I applied to Dr. Johnson, to learn on what authority he
asserted it. He told me, he had it from Savage, who
182 THE LIFE OF
1781. lived in intimacy with Steele, and who mentioned, that
2E^ Steele told him the story with tears in liis eyes. — Ben
72. Victor, Dr. Johnson said, likewise informed him of this
remarkable transaction, from the relation of Mr. Wilkes
the comedian, who was also an intimate of Steele's.* —
Some in defence of Addison, have said, that ' the act
was done with the good natured view of rousing Steele,
and correcting that profusion which always made him
necessitous.' — *■ If that were the case, (said Johnson,)
and that he only wanted to alarm Steele, he would af-
terwards have returned the money to his friend, which
it is not pretended he did.' — ' This, too, (he added,)
might be retorted by an advocate for Steele, who might
alledge, that he did not repay the loan intentionally^
merely to see whether Addison would be mean and
ungenerous enough to make use of legal process to re-
cover it. But of such speculations there is no end :
we cannot dive into the hearts of men ; but their ac-
tions are open to observation.^
" 1 then mentioned to him that some people thought
that Mr. Addison's character was so pure, that the fact,
though true^ ought to have been suppressed. He saw
no reason for this. ' If nothing but the bright side of
characters should be shewn, we should sit down in de-
spondency, and think it utterly impossible to imitate
them in any thing. The sacred writers (he observed)
related the vicious as well as the virtuous actions of
men ; which had this moral effect, that it kept mankind
from despair, into which otherwise they would natur-
ally fall, were they not supported by the recollection
that others had offended like themselves, and by peni-
tence and amendment of life had been restored to the
favour of Heaven."
" March 15, 1782. E. M."
The last paragraph of this note is of great importance ;
and I request that my readers may consider it with par-
* [The late Mr. Burke informed me, in 1792, that Lady Dorothea Primrose,
who died at a great age, I think in 1768, and had been well acquainted with Steekj
told him the same story. M.J
i
DR. JOHNSON. 183
t-icular attention. It will be afterwards referred to in i78i.
this work. ^J^
Various readings in the Life o/" Addison. ^^*
" [But he was our first example] He was^ hoiveveri
one of' our earliest examples of correctness.
" And foveriookj despise their masters.
" His instructions were such as the [state] character
of his . own time] readers made [necessary] proper.
" His purpose was to (diffuse] infuse literary curiosi-
ty by gentle and unsuspected conveyance [among] into
the gay, the idle, and the wealthy.
" Framed rather for those that [wish] are learning
HOI to write.
" Domestick [manners] scenes"
In his life of Parnell, I wonder that Johnson omit-
ted to insert an Epitaph which he had long before com-
posed for that amiable man, without ever writing it
down, but which he was so good as, at my request, to
dictate to me, by which means it has been preserved,
" Hie requiescit Thomas Parnell, S. T. P.
" Qui sacerdos pariter et poeta,
** Utrasque partes iia impfe-oit,
" Ut neque sacerdoti suavitas poetce^
" Nee poetce sac er dot is sanctitas, deesset."
Various readings in the Lfe of F ARi!i ELL»
" About three years [after] afterwards,
" [Did not much want] was in no great need of im-
provement.
" But his prosperity did not last long [was clouded
with that which took away all his powers of enj'n ing
either profit or pleasure, the death of his wife, whom
he is said to have lamented with such sorrow, as
hastened his end. 5] His end, whatever was the cause,
was now approaching.
"> I should have thought that JoJ^nson who had felt the severe aflliction from
which Parnell never recovered, would have preserved this passage.
[He omitted it, doubtless, because he afterwards learneu .hat, however he migh*
have lamented his wife, his end w«vs hastened by other means. M.^
184. THE LIFE OP
1781. " In the Hermit, the [composition] narrative, as it
^2J^ is less airy, is less pleasing."
72.
In the life of Blackmore, we find that writer's rep-
utation generously cleared by Johnson from the cloud
of prejudice which the malignity of contemporary wits
had raised around it. In this spirited exertion of jus-
tice, he has been imitated by Sir Joshua Keynolds, in
his praise of the architecture of Vanburgh.
We trace Johnson's own character in his observa-
tions on Blackmore's " magnanimity as an authour.' —
" The incessant attacks of his enemies, whether serious
or merry, are never discovered to have disturbed his
quiet, or to have lessened his confidence in himself."
Johnson, I recollect, once told me, laughing heartily,
that he understood it had been said of him, " He ap-
pears not to feel ; but when he is alone^ depend upon
it, he suffers sadly.^^ 1 am as certain as 1 can be of
any man's real sentiments, that he enjoijed the perpetual
shower of little hostile arrows as evidences of his fame.
Various readings in the Life of Blackmore.
" To [setj engage poetry [on the side] in the cause
of virtue.
" He likewise [established] enforced the truth of
Revelation.
" [Kindness] benevolence was ashamed to favour.
" His practice, which was once [very extensive] in-
vidiously areat.
" There is scarcely any distemper of dreadful name
[of] which he has not [shewn] taught his reader how
[it is to be opposed] to oppose.
" Of this [contemptuous] indecent arrogance.
" [He wrote] but produced likewise a work of a differ-
ent kind.
" At least [written] compifed with integrity.
" Faults which many tongues [were desirous] would
have made haste to pubhsh.
" But though he [had not] could not boast of much
critical knowledge.
DR. JOHNSON. 18a
'•* He [used] waited for no felicities of fancy. i78i.
" Or had ever elated his [mind] views born to that ^^
ideal perfection which every [mind] genius born to ex- 72.
eel is condemned always to pursue and never overtake.
" The [first great] fundamental principle of wisdom
and of virtue."
Various readings in the Life o/' Philips.
" His dreadful [rival] antagonist Pope.
" They [have not often much] are not loaded with
thought.
" In his translation from Pindar, he [will not be de-
nied to have reached] y^wW the art oj reaching all the
obscurity of the Theban bard."
Various readings in the Lfe of Congreve.
" Congreve's conversation must surely have been af
Ze«^^ equally pleasing with his writings.
'* It apparently [requires] presupposes a familiar
knowledge of many characters.
" Reciprocation of [similes] conceits.
" The dialogue is quick and [various] sparkling,
" Love for Love ; a comedy [more drawn from life]
of nearer alliance to lfe.
" The general character of his miscellanies is, that
they shew little wit and [no] little virtue.
*'• [Perhaps] certuinlif he had not the fire requisite
for the higher species of lyrick poetry."
Various readings in the Life of Tickell,
*' [Longed] lorig wished to peruse it.
" At the [accession] arrival of King George.
" Fiction [unnaturally] unskilfullij compounded of
Grecian deities and Gothick fairies."
Various readings in the Life of Akenside.
" For [another] a different purpose.
" [A furious] an unnecessarij and outrageous zeal,
VOL. III. 94
l^ii THE LIFE OF
1781. " [Something which] what he called and thought
^"'^'''^ liberty.
" A [favourer of innovation] /over of contradiction.
" Warburton's [censure] objections.
"His rage [for libert\J of patriotism.
" Mr. Dyson with [a zeal j an ardour of friendship."
In the life of Lyttelton, Johnson seems to have
been not favourably disposed towards that nobleman.
Mrs. Thrale suggests that he was offended by Molly
Aston's preference of his Lordship to him.* I can by
'' Let not my readers smile to think of Johnson's being a candidate for female
favour ; Mr. Peter Garrick assured me, that he was told by a lady, that in her
opinion Johnson was " a very seducing tnan." Disadvantages of person and manner
may be forgotten, where intellectual pleasure is communicated to a susceptible
mind ; and tliat Johnson was capable of feeling the most delicate and disinterested
attachment, appears from the following letter, which is published by Mrs. Thrale,
with some others to the same person, of which the excellence is not so apparent :
• TO MISS BOOTHBY.
"DEAREST MADAM, JaHuafy, I 775.
"Though I am afraid your illness leaves you little leisure for the reception
of airy civilities, yet I cannot forbear to pay you my congratulations on the new
year ; and to declare my wishes that your years to come may be many and happy.
In this wish, indeed, I include myself) who have none but you on whom my heart
reposes ; yet surely I wish your good, even though your situation were such as
should permit you to communicate no gratifications to, dearest, dearest Madam,
" Your, &c.
" Sam. Johnson."
[There is still a sliglit mistake in the text. It wa not Molly Aston, but Hill
Boothby, for waose affections Johnson and Lord Lyttelton were rival candi^tes.
See Mrs. Piozzi's " Anecdotes," p. 160. After mentioning the death of Mrs.
Fitzherbert (who was a daughter of Mr. Meynell of Bradley in Derbyshire,) and
Johnson's high admiration of her, she adds, '' The friend of this lady. Miss Booth-
by, succeeded her in the management of Mr. Fitzherbert's family, and in the es-
teem of Dr. Johnson ; though he told me, she pushed her piety to bigotry, her
devotion to enthusiasm ; that she somewhat disqualified herself for the duties of
this life, by her perpetual aspirations after the next : such was, however, the purity
of her mind, he said, and such tlie graces of her manner, that Lord Lyttelton and
he used to strive for her preference with an emulation that occasioned hourly dis-
gust, and ended in lasting animosity. You may see (said he to me, when the Po-
ets' Lives were printed,) that dear Boothby is at my heart still."
Miss Hill Boothby, who was the only daughter of Brook Boothby, Esq. and his
wife, Elizabeth Fitzherbert was somewhat older than Johnson. She was bom
October 27, 1708, and died January 16, 1756. Six I-etters addressed to her by
Johnson in the year 1755, are printed in Mrs. Piozzi's Collection ; and a Prayer
composed by him on her death may be found in his " Prayers and Meditations."
His afFection for her induced him to preserve and bind up in a volume thirty three
of her Letters, which were ourchised from the widow of his servant, Francis Bar-
ber, and published by R. Ph-jlips, in 180.5.
But highly as he valued this ladv, his attachment to Miss Molly Aston, (after-
wards Mrs. Brodie,) appears to have been still more ardent. He burned (says Mrs,
DR. JOHNSON. 187
no means join in the censure bestowed by Johnson on '78i.
his Lordship, whom he calls " poor Lyttelton," for re- ^a|^
turning thanks to the Critical Reviewers, for having 72.
" kindly commended" his " Dialogues of the Dead.''
Such " acknowledgements (says my friend) never can
be proper, since, they must be paid either for flattery
or for justice." In my opinion, the most upright man,
who has been tried on a false accusation, may, when he
is acquitted, make a bow to his jur}^ And when
those, who are so much the arbiters of literary merit,
as in a considerable degree to influence the publick
opinion, review an authour's work, placido lumine,
when I am afraid mankind in general are better pleased
with severity, he may surely express a grateful sense of
their civiUty.
Various readings in the life of Lyttelton.
" He solaced [himself] his grief hy writing a long
poem to her memory.
" The production rather [of a mind that means well
than thinks vigorously] as it seems of leisure than of
studif^ rather effusions than compositions.
" His last literary [work] production.
" [Found the way] undertook to persuade.
As the introduction to his critical examination of
the genius and writings of Young, he did Mr. Herbert
Croft, then a Barrister of Lincoln's Inn, now a clergy-
man, the honour to adopt a Life of Young written by
that Gentleman, who was the friend of Dr. Young's
Piozzi,) many letters in the last week [of his life,] I am told, and those written by
his mother drew from him a flood of tears, when the paper they were written on
was all consumed. Mr. Sastres saw him cast a melancholy look upon their ashes,
which he took up and examined, to see if a word was still legible. — Nobody has
ever mentioned what became of Miss Aston's letters, though he once told me him-
self, they should be the last papers he would destroy, and added these lines with a
"cry faltering voice :
" Then from his closing eyes thy form shall part,
" And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart ;
" Life's idle business at one gasp be o'er,
" The Muse forgot, and thou belov'd no more."
Additions to Mrs. Piozzi's Collection of
Dr. Johnson's Letters. M.]
188 THE LIFE OP
1781. son, and wished to vindicate him from some very erro-
j£f^^ neous remarks to his prejudice. Mr. (Jrot't's perform-
72. ance was subjected to the revision of Dr. Johnson, as
appears from the following note to Mr. John Nichols :'
" This Life of Dr. Young was written hy a friend
of his son. What is crossed with black is expunged
by the authour, what is crossed with red is expunged
by me. If you find any thing more that can be well
omitted, I shall not be sorry to see it yet shorter."
It has always appeared to me to have a considerable
share of merit, and to display a pretty successful imita-
tion of Johnson's style. When 1 mentioned this to a
very eminent literary character,^ he opposed me ve-
hemently, exclaiming, " No, no, it is not a good imita-
tion of Johnson ; it has all his pomp without his force ;
it has all the nodosities of the oak without its strength."
This was an image so happy, that one might have
thought he would have been satisfied with it ; but he
was not. And setting his mind again to work, he
added, with exquisite felicity, " It has all the contor-
tions of the Sybil, without the inspiration."
Mr. Croft very properly guards us against supposing
that Young was a gloomy man ; and mentions, that
" his parish was indebted to the good-humour of the
authour of the ' Night Thoughts^^ for an Assembly and
a Bowling Green." A letter from a noble foreigner is
quoted, in which he is said to have been " very pleas-
ant in conversation."
Mr. Langton, who frequently visited him, informs
me, that there was an air of benevolence in his man-
ner, but that he could obtain from him less information
than he had hoped to receive from one who had lived
So much in intercourse with the brightest men of what
has been called the Augustan age of England ; and
that he shewed a degree of eager curiosity concerning
the common occurrences that were then passing, which
appeared somewhat remarkable in a man of such intel-
lectual stores, of such an advanced age, and who had
? Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. iv. p. 10.
3 [The late Mr. Burke. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 189
retired from life with declared disappointment in his '-78 1
expectations. ^tat.
An instance at once of his pensive turn of mind, and 72.
his chet rfulnt^ss of temper, appeared in a little story
which he himself told to Mr. Langton, when they were
walking in his garden : " Here (said he) 1 had put a
handsome sun-dial, with this inscription, Eheu fugaces !
which (speaking with a smile) was sadly verified, for
by the next morning my dial had been carried ofF/'5>
It gives me much pleasure to observe, that however
Johnson may have casually talked, yet when he sits, as
*' an ardent judge zealous to his trust, giving sentence"
upon the excellent works of Young, he allows them
the high praise to which they are justly entitled. " I he
Universal Passion (says he) is indeed a very great per-
formance,— his distichs have the weight of solid senti-
ment, and his points the sharpness of resistless truth."
But I was most anxious concerning Johnson's de-
cision upon " Night Thoughts," which I esteem as
a niass of the grandest and richest poetry that human
genius has ever produced : and was delighted to find
this character of that work : " In his ' Night
Thoughts,' he has exhibited a very wide display of
original poetry, variegated with deep reflection and
striking allusions : a wilderness of thought, in which
the fertility of fancy scatters flowers of every hue and
of every odour. This is one of the few poems in which
blank verse could not be changed for rhyme, but with
disadvantage." And afterwards, " Particular lines are
not to be regarded ; the power is in the whole ; and
in the whole there is a magnificence like that ascribed
to Chinese plantation, the magnificence of vast extent
and endless diversity."
But there is in this Poem not only all that Johnson
so well brings in view, but a power of the Pathetick
beyond almost any example that I have seen. He
The late Mr. James Ralph told Lord Macartney, that he passed an evening;
with Dr. Young at Lord Melcombe's (then Mr. Doddington) at Hammersmith.
The Doctor happening to go out into the garden, Mr. Doddington observed to him,
on his return, that it was a dreadful night, as in truth it was, there being a violent
storm of rain and wind. ' No, Sir, (replied the Doctor) it is a very fine night.
The Lord is abroad.'
19® THE LIFE OF
1781. who does not feel his nerves shaken, and his heart
iEtat^ pierced by many passages in this extraordinary work,
72. particularly by that most affecting one, which describes
the gradual torment suffered by the contemplation of
an object of affectionate attachment visibly and cer-
tainly decaying into dissolution, must be of a hard and
obstinate frame.
To all the other excellencies of ' Night Thoughts*
let me add the great and peculiar one, that they con-
tain not only the noblest sentiments of virtue, and
contemplations on immortality, but the Christian Sa-
crifice^ the Divine Propitiation^ with all its interesting
circumstances, and consolations to "a wounded spirit,"
solemnly and poetically displayed in such imagery and
language, as cannot fail to exalt, animate, and soothe
the truly pious. No book whatever can be recom-
mended to young persons, with better hopes of season-
ing their minds with vital religion^ than " Young's
I>IiGHT Fhouhts."
In the Life of Swift, it appears to me that Johnson
had a certam degree of prejudice against that extraor-
dinary man, of which 1 have elsewhere had occasion
to speak. Mr. Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a sup-
posed apprehension in Johnson, that Swift had not
been sufficiently active in obtaining for him an Irish
degree when it was solicited,' but of this there was
not sufficient evidence ; and let me not presume to
charge Johnson with injustice, because he did not
think so highly of the writings of this authour, as I
have done from my youth upwards. Yet that he had
an unfavourable bias is evident, were it only from that
passage in which he speaks of Swift's practice of sav-
ing, as, " first ridiculous and at last detestable ;" and
yet after some examination of circumstances, finds
himself obliged to own, that " it will perhaps appear
that he only liked one mode of expence better than
another, and saved merely that he might have some-
thing to give."
One observation which Johnson makes in Swift's
life, should be often inculcated : " It may be justly
• See Vol. 1. page 108.
DR. JOHNSON. 191
supposed, that there was in his conversation what ap- i78l.
pears so frequently in his letters, an affectation of fa- ^"^
miiiarity with the great, an ambition of momentary 72. '
equality, sought and enjoyed by the neglect of those
ceremonies which custom has established as the bar-
riers between one order of society and another. This
transgression of regularity was by himself and his ad-
mirers termed greatness of soul ; but a great mind
disdains to hold any thing by courtesy, and therefore
never usurps what a lawful claimant may take away.
He that encroaches on another's dignity, puts himself
in his power; he is either repelled with helpless indig-
nity, or endured by clemency and condescension."
Various readings in the Life qfSvfiYl.
" Charity may be persuaded to think that it might be
written by a man of a peculiar [opinions] character,
without ill intention.
" He did not [disown] demj it.
" [To] by whose kindness it is not unlikely that he
was [indebted for] advanced to his benefices.
" [With] Jor this purpose he had recourse to Mr.
Harley.
" Sharpe, when he [represents] describes as ' the
harmless tool of others' hate.'
" Harley was slow because he was [irresolute] doubt-
ful.
" When [readers were not many] we xvere not yet a
nation of readers.
" [Every man who] he that could say he knew him.
" Every man of known influence has so many [more]
petitions [than] ■■j:hich he [can] cannot grant, that he
must necessarily offend more than he [can gratify]
gratijies.
" Ecclesiastical [preferments] benefices.
" Swift [procured] contrived an interview.
" [As a writer] In his works he has given very differ-
ent specimens.
" On all common occasions he habitually [assumes]
affects a style of [superiority] arrogance.
192 THE LIFE OF
1781. " By the [omission] neglect of those ceremonies.
l£ux. " ^^^^ their merits filled the world [and} or that
^2, there was no [room fur] hope of more.''
I have not confined myself to the order of the " Lives,"
in making my few remarks. Indeed a different order is
observed in the original publication, and in the collec-
tion of Johnson's VVorks. And should it be objected,
that many of my various readings are inconsiderable,
those who make an objection will be pleased to con-
sider, that such small particulars are intended for those
who are nicely critical in composition, to whom they
will be an acceptable selection.
" Spence's Anecdotes," which are frequently quoted
and referred to in Johnson's " Lives of the Poets," are
in a manuscript collection, made by the Reverend Mr.
^ Joseph Spence,^ containing a number of particulars
concerning eminent men. To each anecdote is marked
the name of the person on whose authority it is men-
tioned. This valuable collection is the property of the
Duke of Newcastle, who upon the application of Mr
Lucas Pepys, was pleased to permit it to be put into the
hands of Dr. Johnson, who I am sorry to think made
but an awkward return. " Great assistance (says he)
has been given me by Mr. Spence's Collection, of
which I consider the communication as a favour wor-
thy of publick acknowledgement ;" but he has not own-
ed to whom he was obliged ; so that the acknowledge-
ment is unappropriated to his Grace.
While the world in general was filled with admira-
tion of Johnson's *' Lives of the l^)ets," there were
narrow circles in which prejudice and resentment were
fostered, and from which attacks of different sorts issued
against him.^ By some violent Whigs he was arraign-
^ [The Rev. Joseph Spence, A. M. Rector of Great Harwood in Buckingham-
shire, and Prebendary of Durham, died at Byfleet in Surrey, August 20, 1768. He
was a fellow of New College in Oxford, and held the office of Professor of Poetry
in that University from 1728 to 1738. M.]
" From this disreputable class, I except an ingenious, though not satisfactory de-
fence of Hammond, which 1 did not see till lately, by the favour of its authour,
my amiaVJe friend, the Reverend Mr. Eevill, who published it without his name.
It is a juvenile performance, but elegantly written, with classical enthusiasm of sen-
timent, and yet with a becoming modesty, and great respect for Dr. Johnson.
DR. JOHNSON. 193
ed of injustice, to Milton ; by some Cambridge men of 1781.
depreciating Gray ; and his expressing with a dignified ^^,
freedom what he really thought of George, Lord Lyt- 72.
telton, gave offence to some of the friends of that no-
bleman, and particularly produced a declaration of war
against him from Mrs. Montagu, the ingenious Essayist
on Shakspeare, between whom and his Lordship a
commerce of reciprocal compliments had long been car-
ried on. In this war the smallest powers in alliance
with him were of course led to engage, at least on the
defensive, and thus 1 for one, was excluded from the
enjoyment of " A Feast for Reason," such as Mr. Cum-
berland has described, with a keen, yet just and deli-
cate pen, in his " Observer." These minute incon-
veniencies gave not the least disturbance to Johnson.
He nobly said, when I talked to him of the feeble,
though shrill outcry which had been raised, " Sir, I
considered myself as entrusted with a certain portion
of truth. I have given my opinion sincerely ; let them
shew where they think me wrong."
While my friend is thus contemplated in the splen-
dour derived from his last and perhaps most admirable
work, 1 introduce him with peculiar propriety as the
correspondent of Warren Hastings ! a man whose
regard reflects dignity even upon Johnson ; a man, the
extent of whose abilities was equal to that of his power ;
and who, by those who are fortunate enough to know
him in private life, is admired for his literature and taste,
and beloved for the candour, moderation, and mild-
ness of his character. Were 1 capable of paying a
suitable tribute of admiration to him, I should cer-
tainly not withhold it at a moment* when it is not
possible that I should be suspected of being an inter-
ested flatterer. But how weak would be my voice af-
ter that of the millions whom he governed. His con-
descending and obliging compliance with my solicita-
tion, 1 with humble gratitude acknowledge ; and while
by publishing his letter to me, accompanying the valu-
able communication, 1 do eminent honour to my great
. "January, 1791.
vpL. III. 95
194 THE LIFE OF
1781. friend, I shall entirely disregard any invidious sugges-
^j^^ tions, that as I in some degree participate in the honour,
72. 1 have, at the same time, the gratification of my own
vanity in view.
TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" SIR, Park-lane, Dec. 2, 1790.
" I HAVE been fortunately spared the troublesome
suspense of a long search, to which, in performance of
my promise, I had devoted this morning, by lighting
upon the objects of it among the first papers that 1 laid
my hands on : my veneration for your great and good
friend. Dr. Johnson, and the pride, or 1 hope something
of a better sentiment, which 1 indulge in possessing
such memorials of his good will towards me, having in-
duced me to bind them in a parcel containing other se-
lect papers, and labelled with the titles appertaining to
them. They consist but of three letters, which 1 be-
lieve were all that 1 ever received from Dr. Johnson.
Of these, one, which was Avritten in quadruplicate, un-
der the different dates of its respective dispatches, has
already been made publick, but not from any commu-
nication of mine. This, however, I have joined to the
rest ; and have now the pleasure of sending them to
you for the use to which you informed me it was your
desire to destine them.
" My promise was pledged with the condition, that
if the letters were found to contain any thing which
should render them improper for the publick eye, you
would dispense with the performance of it. You will
have the goodness, i am sure, to pardon my recalling
this stipulation to your recollection, as 1 shall be loath
to appear negligent of that obligation which is always
implied in an epistolary confidence. In the reservation
of that right 1 have read them over with the most scru-
pulous attention, but have not seen in them the slight-
est cause on that ground to withhold them from you.
But, though not on that, yet on another ground 1 own
I feel a little, yet but a little, reluctance to part with
them : 1 mean on that of my own credit, which 1 fear
DR. JOHNSON. 195
will suffer by the information conveyed by them, that I i78i.
was early in the possession of such valuable instructions ^^
for the beneficial employment of the influence of my 72. '
late station, and (as it may seem) have so little availed
myself of them. Whether I could, if it were necessary,
defend myself against such an imputation, it little con-
cerns the world to know. 1 look only to the effect
which these relicks may produce, considered as eviden-
ces of the virtues of their authour : and believing that
they will be found to display an uncommon warmth of
private friendship, and a mind ever attentive to the im-
provement and extension of useful knowledge, and so-
licitous for the interests of mankind, I can cheerfully
submit to the little sacrifice of my own fame, to contri-
bute to the illustration of so great and venerable a char-
acter. They cannot be better applied, for that end, than
by being entrusted to your hands. Allow me, with
this offering, to infer from it a proof of the very great
esteem with which I have the honour to profess myself,
Sir,
" Your most obedient
" And most humble servant,
" Warren Hastings."
" P. S. At some future time, and when you have
no further occasion for these papers, I shall be obhged
o you if you will return them."
The last of the three letters thus graciously put into
my hands, and which has already appeared in publick,
belongs to this year ; but 1 shall previously insert the
first two in the order of their dates. They altogether
form a grand group in my biographical picture.
" TO THE HONOURABLE WARREN HASTINGS, ESQ.
" SIR,
" Though I have had but little personal knowl-
edge of you, 1 have- had enough to make me wish for
more ; and though it be now a long time since 1 was
honoured by your visit, I had too much pleasure from
it to forget it. By those whom we delight to remem-
\y(j THE LIFE OP
1781 . ber, we are unwilling to be forgotten ; and therefore I
^^ cannot omit this opportunity of reviving myself in your
72. memory by a letter which you will receive from the
hands of my friend Mr. Chambers ;^ a man, whose
purity of manners and vigour of mind are sufficient to
make every thing welcome that he brings.
" That this is my only reason for writing, will be
too apparent by the uselessness of my letter to any
other purpose. 1 have no questions to ask ; not that
I want curiosity after either the ancient or present
state of regions, in which have been seen all the power
and splendour of wide-extended empire ; and which,
as by some grant of natural superiority, supply the rest
of the world with almost all that pride desires, and
luxury enjoys. But my knowledge of them is too
scanty to furnish me with proper topicks of enquiry ; I
can only wish for information ; and hope, that a mind
comprehensive like yours will find leisure, amidst the
cares of your important station, to enquire into many
subjects of which the European world either thinks not
at all, or thinks with deficient intelligence and uncertain
conjecture. I shall hope, that he who once intended
to increase the learning of his country by the intro-
duction of the Persian language, will examine nicely
the traditions and histories of the East ; that Tie will
survey the wonders of its ancient edifices, and trace
the vestiges of its ruined cities ; and that, at his return,
we shall know the arts and opinions of a race of men,
from whom very little has been hitherto derived.
" You, Sir, have no need of being told by me, how
much may be added by your attention and patronage
to experimental knowledge and natural history. There
are arts of manufacture practised in the countries in
which you preside, which are yet very imperfectly
known here, either to artificers or philosophers. Of
the natural productions, animate and inanimate, we yet
have so little intelligence, that our books are filled, I
fear, with conjectures about things which an Indian
peasant knows by his senses.
' Afterwards Sir Robert Chambers, one of his Majesty's Judges in India.
DR. JOHNSON-. 197
'' Many of those things my first wish is to see ; my i78i.
second to know, by such accounts as a man like you j^(^
will be able to give. 72.
" As I have not skill to ask proper questions, I have
likewise no such access to great men as can enable me
to send you any political information. Of the agita-
tions of an unsettled government, and the struggles of
a feeble ministry, care is doubtless taken to give you
more exact accounts than 1 can obtain. If you are in-
clined to interest yourself much in pnbiick transactions,
it is no misfortune to you to be distant from them.
" That literature is not totally forsaking us, and that
your favourite language is not neglected, will appear
from the book,^ which I should have pleased myself
more with sending, if I could have presented it bound:
but time was wanting. 1 beg, however, Sir, that you
will accept it from a man very desirous of your regard;
and that if you think me able to gratify you by an}^
thing more important you will employ me.
" 1 am now going to take leave, perhaps a very long
leave, of my dear Mr. Chambers. That he is going to
live where you govern, may justly alleviate the regret
of parting ; and the hope of seeing both him and you
again, which I am not willing to mingle with doubt,
must at present, comfort as it can, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" March 30, 1774. " Sam. Johnson.''
" TO THE SAME.
" SIR,
" Being informed that by the departure of a ship,
there is now an opportunity of writing to Bengal, I am
unwilling to slip out of your memory by my own neg-
ligence, and therefore take the liberty of reminding you
of my existence, by sending you a book which is not
yet made publick.
" I have lately visited a region less remote, and less
illustrious than India, which afforded some occasions
• Jones's " Persian Grammar."
198 THE LIFE OF
1781. for speculation ; what has occurred to me, I have put
j^^into the volume/ of which I beg your acceptance.
72. " Men in your station seldom have presents totally
disinterested ; my book is received, let me now make
my request.
" There is, Sir, somewhere within your government,
a young adventurer, one Chauncey Lawrence, whose
father is one of my oldest friends. Be pleased to shew
the young man what countenance is fit, whether he
wants to be restrained by your authority, or encouraged
by your favour. His father is now President of the
College of Physicians, a man venerable for his knowl-
edge, and more venerable for his virtue.
" 1 wish you a prosperous government, a safe return,
and a long enjoyment of plenty and tranquillity.
" 1 am, Sir,
" Your most obedient
" And most humble servant,
" London, Dec. 20, 1774. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THE SAME.
" SIR, " Jan, 9, 1781.
" Amidst the importance and multiphcity of af-
fairs in which your great office engages you, 1 take the
liberty of recalling your attention for a moment to lit-
erature, and will not prolong the interruption by an
apology which your character makes needless.
" Mr. Hooje, a gentleman long known, and long
esteemed in the India-House, after having translated
Tasso, has undertaken Ariosto. How well he is quali-
fied for his undertaking he has already shewn. He is
desirous. Sir, of your favour in promoting his proposals,
and flatters me by supposing that my testimony may
advance his interest.
" It is a new thing for a clerk of the India-House to
translate poets ; — it is new for a Governour of Bengal to
patronize learning. That he may find his ingenuity
' " Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland."
' DR. JOHNSON. 199
rewarded, and that learning may flourish under your i78i.
protection, is the wish of, Sir, ^J^
" Your most humble servant, 72, '
" Sam. Johnson.^'
I wrote to him in February, complaining of having
been troubled by a recurrence of the perplexing ques-
tion of Liberty and Necessity ; — and mentioning that
I hoped soon to meet him again in London.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HOPED you had got rid of all this hypocrisy
of misery. What have you to do with Liberty and
Necessity ? Or what more than to hold your tongue
about it ? Do not doubt but I shall be most heartily
glad to see you here again, for I love every part about
you but your affectation of distress.
" I have at last finished my Lives, and have laid up
for you a load of copy, all out of order, so that it will
amuse you a long time to set it right. Come to me,
my dear Bozzy, and let us be as happy as we can. We
will go again to the Mitre, and talk old times over.
" 1 am, dear Sir,
" Yours affectionately,
" March 14, 178 L "Sam. Johnson."
On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on
Tuesday, the 20th, met him in Fleet-street, walking, or
rather indeed moving along ; for his peculiar march is
thus described in a very just and picturesque manner,
in a short Life^ of him published very soon after his
death : — " When he walked the streets, what with the
constant roll of his head, and the concomitant motion
of his body, he appeared to make his way by that mo-
* Published by Kearsley, with this well-chosen motto :
'■ ' From his cradle
" He was a Scholar, and a ripe and good one :
" And to add greater honours to his age
•' Than man cculd give him, he died fearing Heaven."
Shakspeare.
200 THE LIFE OP
1781. tion, independent of his feet." That he was often
^J^ much stared at while he advanced in this manner, may
72. easily be believed ; but it was not safe to make sport of
one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one
day, in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load
off a porter's back, and walk forward briskly, without
being conscious of what he had done. The porter was
very angry, but stood still, and eyed the huge figure
with much earnestness, till he was satisfied that his
wisest course was to be quiet, and take up his burthen
again.
Our accidental meeting in the street after a long sep-
aration, was a pleasing surprize to us both. He step-
ped aside with me into Falcon-court, and made kind
enquiries about my family, and as we were in a hurry
going different ways, I promised to call on him next
day ; he said he was engaged to go out in the morning,
" Early, Sir ?" said 1. Johnson. " Why, Sir, a London
morning does not go with the sun."
I waited on him next evening, and he gave me a
great portion of his original manuscript of his ' Lives of
the Poets,' which he had preserved for me.
1 found on visiting his friend, Mr. Thrale, that he
was now very ill, and had removed, I suppose by the
solicitation of Mrs. Thrale, to a house in Grosvenor-
square. I was sorry to see him sadly changed in his
appearance.
He told me I might now have the pleasure to see
Dr. Johnson drink wine again, for he had lately return-
ed to it. When I mentioned this to Johnson, he said,
" I drink it now sometimes, but not socially." The
first evening that I was with him at Thrale's, I observ-
ed he poured a large quantity of it into a glass, and
swallowed it greedily. Every thing about his character
and manners was forcible and violent ; there never was
any moderation ; many a day did he fast, many a year
did he refrain from wine ; but when he did eat, it was
voraciously ; when he did drink wine, it was copiously.
He could practise abstinence, but not temperance.
Mrs. Thrale and I had a dispute, whether Shakspeare
or Milton had drawn the most admirable picture of a
K'l
I
DR. JOHNSON. 201
man. 5 I was for Shakspeare ; Mrs. Thralefor Milton ; iT-^J.
and after a fair hearing, Johnson decided for my ^'^i!
opinion.' 72,
1 told him of one of Mr. Burke's playful sallies upon
Dean Marlay :^ " I don't like the Deanery of Ferns, it
sounds so like a barren title." — " Dr. Heath should
have it ;" said I. Johnson laughed, and condescend-
ing to trifle in the same mode of conceit, suggested Dr.
Moss.
He said, " Mrs. Montagu has dropt me. Now, Sir,
there are people whom one should like very well to
drop, but would not wish to be dropped by," He cer-
tainly was vain of the society of ladies, and could make
himself very agreeable to them, when he chose it ; Sir
Joshua Reynolds agreed with me that he could. Mr.
Gibbon, with his usual sneer, controverted it, perhaps
in resentment of Johnson's having talked with some
disgust of his ugliness, which one would \h\x\^2iphiloS'
opher would not mind. Dean Marlay wittily observed,
" A lady may be vain, when she can turn a wolf-dog in-
to a lap-dog."
The election for Ayrshire, my own county, was this
spring tried upon a petition, before a Committee of the
House of Commons. I was one of the counsel for
the sitting member, and took the liberty of previously
' Shakspeare makes Hamlet thus describe his father :
" See, what a grace was seated on his brow :
" Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself ;
" An eye like Mars, to threaten and command ;
" A station like the herald Mercury,
" New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ;
" A combination, and a form, indeed,
" Where every God did seem to set his seal,
" To give the world assurance of a man."
Milton thus pourtrays our first parent, Adam :
" His fair large front and eye subUme declar'd
" Absolute rule ; and hyacinthin locks
" Round from his parted forelock manly hung
" Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad."
' [It is strange, that the picture drawn by the unlearned Shakspeare, should bt
full of classical images, and that by the learned Milton, void of them.-^ Milton's de»
scription appears to me more picturesque. K.]
[Dr. Richard Marlay, afterwards Lord Bishop of Waterford ; a very amiable,
benevolent, and ingenious man. He was chosen a member of the Literary
Club in 1777, and died in Dublin, July 2, 1802, ia his 75th year. M.]
VOL. III. 26
202 THE LIFE OF
^781. stating difiereiit points to Johnson, who never failed to
iEtaT. ^^^ them clearly, and to supply me with some good
72. hints. He dictated to me the following note upon the
registration of deeds :
" All laws are made for the convenience of the
community ; what is legally done, should be legally
recorded, that the state of things may be known, and
that wherever evidence is requisite, evidence may be
had. For this reason, the obligation to frame and
establish a legal register is enforced by a legal penalty,
which penalty is the want of that perfection and plen-
itude of right which a register would give. Thence
it follows, that this is not an objection merely legal ;
for the reason on which the law stands being equitable,
makes it an equitable objection."
" This (said he) you must enlarge on, when speak-
ing to the Committee, f ou must not argue there, as
if you were arguing in the schools ; close reasoning
will not fix their attention ; you must say the same
thing over and over again, in different words. If you
say it but once, they miss it in a moment of inattention.
It is unjust. Sir, to censure lawyers for multiplymg
words, when they argue ; it is often necessary for them
to multiply words."
His notion of the duty of a member of Parliament,
sitting upon an election-committee was very high ; and
when he was told of a gentleman upon one of those
committees, who read the new^apers part of the time,
and slept the rest, while the merits of a vote were ex-
amined by the counsel ; and as an excuse, when chal-
lenged by the chairman for such behaviour, bluntly
answered, " I had made up my mind upon that case ;"
— Johnson, with an indignant contempt, said, " If he
was such a rogue as to make up his mind upon a case
without hearing it, he should not have been such a
fool as to tell it." — " 1 think (said Mr. Dudley Long,
now North) the Doctor has pretty plainly made him
out to be both rogue and fool."
Johnson's profound reverence for the Hierarchy
made him expect from Bishops the highest degree of
DR. JOHNSON. 203
decorum ; he was offended even at their going to tav- '781.
erns ; " A bishop (said he) has nothing to do at a ]^^
tipphng-house. It is not indeed immoral in him to go 72.
to a tavern ; neither would it be immoral in him to
whip a top in Grosvenor-square : but, if he did, 1 hope
the boys would fall upon him, and apply the whip to
him. There are gradations in conduct ; there is mor-
ality,— decency, — propriety. None of these should be
violated by a bishop. A bishop should not go to a
house where he may meet a young fellow leading out
a wench." Boswell. " But, Sir, every tavern does
not admit women." Johnson. " Depend upon it. Sir,
any tavern will admit a well-drest man and a well-drest
woman ; they will not perhaps admit a woman whom
they see every night walking by their door, in the
street. But a well-drest man may lead in a well-drest
woman to any tavern in London. Taverns sell meat
and drink, and will sell them to any body who can eat
and can drink. You may as well say, that a mercer
will not sell silks to a woman of the town."
He also disapproved of bishops going to routs, at
least of their staying at them longer than their presence
commanded respect. He mentioned a particular bish-
op. " Poh ! (said Mrs. Thrale) the Bishop of
is never minded at a rout." Boswell. " When a
bishop places himself in a situation where he has no
distinct character, and is of no consequence, he de-
grades the dignity of his order." Johnson. " Mr.
Boswell, Madam, has said it as correctly as it could be."
Nor was it only in the dignitaries of the Church
that Johnson required a particular decorum and deli-
cacy of behaviour ; he justly considered that the clergy,
as persons set apart for the sacred office of serving at
the altar, and impressing the minds of men with the
aweful concerns of a future state, should be somewhat
more serious than the generality of mankind, and have
a suitable composure of manners. A due sense of the
dignity of their profession, independent of higher mo-
tives, will ever prevent them from losing their distinc-
tion in an indiscriminate sociality ; and did such as
affect this, know how much it lessens them in the eyes
204 THE LIFE OF
1/81. of those whom they think to please by it, they would
]^t^ feel themselves much mortified.
72. Johnson, and his friend, Beauclerk, were once to-
gether in company with several clergymen, who thought
that they should appear to advantage, by assuming the
lax jollity of men of the world ; which, as it ma}( be ob-
served in similar cases, they carried to noisy excess.
Johnson, who they expected would be entertained^ sat
grave and silent for some time ; at last, turning to
Beauclerk, he said, by no means in a whisper, " This
merriment of parsons is mighty offensive."
Even the dress of a clergyman should be in charac-
ter, and nothing can be more despicable than conceited
attempts at avoiding the appearance of the clerical
order ; attempts, which are as ineffectual as they are
pitiful. Dr. Porteus, now Bishop of London, in his
excellent charge when presiding over the diocese of
Chester, justly animadverts upon this subject ; and
observes of a reverend fop, that he " can be but half a
heaaP
Addison, in " The Spectator," has given us a fine
portrait of a clergyman, who is supposed to be a mem-
ber of his Club ; and Johnson has exhibited a model,
in the character of Mr. Mudge,^ which has escaped
the collectors of his works, but which he owned to me,
and which indeed he shewed to Sir Joshua Reynolds
at the time when it was written. It bears the genuine
marks of Johnson's best manner, and is as follows :
" The Reverend Mr. Zachariah Mudge^ Prebendary
of Exeter, and A'icar of St. Andrew's in Plymouth ; a
man equally eminent for his virtues and abilities, and
at once beloved as a companion and reverenced as a
pastor. He had that general curiosity to which no
kind of knowledge is indifferent or superfluous ; and
that general benevolence by which no order of men is
hated or despised.
" His principles both of thought and action were
great and comprehensive. By a solicitous examination
of objections, and judicious comparison of opposite ar-
' See Vol. I, p. 297.
DR. JOHNSON. 205
guments, he attained what enquiry never gives but to i78i.
industry and perspicuity, a firm and unshaken settle- ^^tau
ment of conviction. But his firmness was without 7i>.
asperity ; for, knowing with how much difficulty truth
was sometimes found, he did not wonder that many
niissed it.
" The general course of his hfe was determined by
his profession ; he studied the sacred volumes in the
original languages ; with what diligence and success,
his Notes upon the Psalms give sufficient evidence.
He once endeavoured to add the knowledge of Arabick
to that of Hebrew ; but finding his thoughts too much
diverted from other studies, after some time desisted
from his purpose.
" His discharge of parochial duties was exemplary.
How his Sermons were composed, may be learned from
the excellent volume which he has given to the pub-
lick ; but how they were delivered, can be known only
to those that heard them ; for as he appeared in the
pulpit, words will not easily describe him. His deliv-
ery, though unconstrained was not negligent, and
though forcible was not turbulent ; disdaining anxious
nicety of emphasis, and laboured artifice of action, it
captivated the hearer by its natural dignity, it roused the
sluggish, and fixed the volatile, and detained the mind
upon the subject, without directing it to the speaker.
" rhe grandeur and solemnity of the preacher did
not intrude upon his general behaviour ; at the table
of his friends he was a companion communicative and
attentive, of unaffected manners, of manly cheerfulness,
willing to please, and easy to be pleased. His acquaint-
ance was universally solicited, and his presence ob-
structed no enjoyment which religion did not forbid.
Though studious he was popular ; though argumenta-
tive he was modest ; though inflexible he was candid ;
and though metaphysical y* t orthodox."*
On Friday, March r30, I dined with him at Sir Josh-
ua Reynolds's, with the Earl of Charlemont, Sir An-
« " London Chronicle," May 2, 1769. This respectable man is there mention-
ed to have died on the 3d of Aj^ril, that year, at Cofflect, tlie seat of Thomas
Veale, Esq. in his way to London. •
S06 THE LIFE OP
1781. nesley Stewart, Mr. Eliot, of Port-Eliot, Mr. Burke,
'^{^^ Dean Marlay, Mr. Langton ; a most agreeable day, of
72. which 1 regret that every circumstance is not preserv-
ed ; but it is unreasonable to require such a multiplica-
tion of felicity.
Mr. Eliot, with whom Dr. Walter Harte had trav-
elled, talked to us of his " History of Gustavus Adol-
phus," which he said was a very good book in the Ger-
man translation." Johnson. " Harte was excessively
vain. He put copies of his book in manuscript into
the hands of Lord Chesterfield and Lord Granville, that
they might revise it. Now how absurd was it to sup-
pose that two such noblemen would revise so big a man-
uscript. Poor man ! he left London the day of the
publication of his book, that he might be out of the
way of the great praise he was to receive ; and he was
ashamed to return, when he found how ill his book had
succeeded. It was unlucky in coming out on the same
day with Robertson's ' History of Scotland.' His hus-
bandry, however, is good." Boswell. " So he was
fitter for that than for heroick history : he did well,
when he turned his sword into a plough-share."
Mr. Eliot mentioned a curious liquor peculiar to his
country, which the Cornish fishermen drink. They
call it Mahogany ; and it is made of two parts gin, and
one part treacle, well beaten together. I begged to
have some of it made, which was done with proper skill
by Mr. Eliot. I thought it very good liquor; and said
it was a counterpart of what is called Atliol Porridge
in the Highlands of Scotland, which is a mixture of
whisky and honey. Johnson said, " that must be a
better liquor than the Cornish, for both its component
parts are better." He also observed, " Mahogamj must
be a modern name;, for it is not long since the wood
called mahogany was known in this country." 1 men-
tioned his scale of liquors : — claret for boys, — port for
men, — brandy for heroes. " Then (said Mr. Burke)
let me have claret : I love to be a boy ; to have the
careless gaiety of boyish days." Johnson. " 1 should
drink claret too, if it would give me that ; but it
does. not; it neither makes boys men, nor men boys.
DR. JOHNSON. 207
You'll be drowned by it, before it has any eftect upon i78i.
I ventured to mention a ludicrous paragraph in the 72.
newspapers, that Dr. Johnson was learning to dance of
Vestris. Lord Charlemont, wishing to excite him to
talk, proposed in a whisper, that he should be asked,
whether it was true. " Shall 1 ask him ?" said his
Lordship. We were, by a great majority, clear for the
experiment. Upon which his Lordship very gravely,
and with a courteous air said, " Pray, Sir, is it true that
you are taking lessons of V^estris ?" This was risking a
good deal, and required the boldness of a General of
Irish Volunteers to make the attempt. Johnson was
at first startled, and in some heat answered, " How
can your Lordship ask so simple a question ?" But
immediately recovering himself, whether from unwil-
lingness to be deceived, or to appear deceived, or
whether from real good humour, he kept up the joke :
" Nay, but if anv body were to answer the paragraph,
and contradict it, I'd have a reply, and would say, that
he who contradicted it was no friend either to Vestris
or me. For why should not Dr. Johnson add to his
other powers a little corporeal agility ? Socrates learnt
to dance at an advanced age, and Cato learnt Greek at
an advanced age. Then it might proceed to say, that
this Johnson, not content with dancing on the ground,
might dance on the rope ; and they might introduce
the elephant dancing on the rope. A nobleman ^ wrote
a play, called ' Love in a hollow Tree.' He found out
that it was a bad one, and therefore wished to buy up
all the copies and burn them. The 'Duchess of Marl-
borough had kept one ; and when he was against her at
an election, she had a new edition of it printed, and
prefixed to it, as a frontispiece, an elephant dancing on
a rope ; to shew, that his Lordship's writing comedy
was as awkward as an elephant dancing on a rope."
On Sunday, April I, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's,
with Sir Philip Jennings Clerk and Mr. Perkins,^
4 William, the first Viscount Grimston.
5 See Vol. II. p. 122.
208 THE LIFE OP
1781. who had the superintendance of Mr. Thrale's brew-
"^f.^ ery, with a salary of five hundred pounds a year. Sir
72. Philip had the appearance of a gentleman of ancient
family, well advanced in life. He wore his own white
hair in a bag of goodly size, a black velvet coat, with
an etnbroidered waistcoat, and very rich laced ruf-
fles ; which Mrs. Vhrale said were old fashioned, but
which, for that reason, I thought the more respectable,
more like a iory ; yet Sir Philip was then in Opposi-
tion in parliament. " Ah, Sir, (said Johnson,) ancient
ruffle^ and modern principles do not agree." Sir Philip
defended the opposition to the American war ably,
and with temper, and I joined him. He said, the ma-
jority of ihe nation was against the ministry. Johnson.
*' /, Sir, am against the ministry ; but it is for having
too little of that, of which Oppositif)n thinks they have
too much. Were 1 minister, if any man wagged his
finger against me, he should be turned out ; for that
which it is in the power of government to give at
pleasure to one or to another, should be given to the
supporters of Government. If you will not oppose at
the expence of losing your place, your opposition will
not be honest, you will feel no serious grievance ; and
the present opposition is only a contest to get what
others have. Sir Robert Walpole acted as 1 would do.
As to the American war, the se)ise of the nation is
K'/M the ministry. The majority of those who can un-
derstand is with it ; the majority of those who can only
/ieat% is against it ; and as those who can only hear are
more numerous than those who can understand, and
Opposition is always loudest, a majority of the rabble
will be for Opposition."
This boisterous vivacity entertained us : but the
truth in my opinion was, that those who could under-
stand the best were against the American war, as almost
every man now is, when the question has been coolly
considered.
Mrs. Thrale gave high praise to Mr. Dudley Long,
(now North). Johnson. " Nay, my dear lady, don't
talk so. Mr. Long's character is very short. It is
nothing. He fills a chair. He is a man of genteel
DR. JOHNSON. 209
appearance, and that is all.^ I know nobody who 178L.
blasts by praise as you do : for whenever there is ex- J^
aggerated praise, every body is set against a character. 70, '
Ttiey are provoked to attack it. Now there is Pepys ;*
you praised that man with such disproportion, that I
was incited to lessen him, perhaps more than he de-
serves. His blood is upon your head. By the same
principle, your malice defeats itself; for your censure is
too violent. And yet (looking to her with a leering
smile) she is the first woman in the world, could she
but restrain that wicked tongue of hers ; — she would be
the only woman, could she but command that little
whirligig."
Upon the subject of exaggerated praise I took the
liberty to say, that I thouglit there might be very high
praise given to a known character which deserved it,
and therefore it would not be exaggerated. Thus, one
might say of Mr. Edmund Burke, he is a very wonder-
ful man. Johnson. " No, Sir, you would not be
safe, if another man had a mind perversely to contra-
dict. He might answer, ' Where is all the wonder ?
Burke is, to be sure, a man of uncommon abilities,
with a great quantity of matter in his mind, and a
great fluency of language in his mouth. But we are
not to be stunned and astonished by him.' So you see,
Sir, even Burke would suffer, not from any fault of his
own, but from your folly."
Mrs. Thrale mentioned a gentleman who had acquir-
ed a fortune of four thousand a year in trade, but was
absolutely miserable, because he could not talk in com-
pany ; so miserable, that he was impelled to lament
' Here Johnson condescended to play upon the words Long and short. But little
did he know rhat, owing to Mr. Long's reserve in his presense, he was talking thus
of a gentleman distinguished amongst his acquaintance, for acuteness of wit ; one to
whom I think the French expression, ' IL petille d'esprit^ is particularly suited.
He has gratified me by mentioning that he heard Dr. Johnson say, " Sir, if I were
to lose BosweJl, it would be a limb amputated."
8 WiUiam Weller"Pepys, Esq. one of the Masters in the High Court of Chancery,
and well known in polite circles. My acquaintance with him is not sufficient
to enable me to speak of him from my own judgement. But I know that both at
Eton and Oxford he was the intimate friend of the late Sir James Macdonald, the
Marcellus of Scotland, whose extraordinary talents, learning, antl \'jrtnes, witt evfflr
be remembered with admiration and regret,
VOL. IIT. 57
i^lO THE LIFE OF
1781. his situation in the street to ******, whom he hates,
^^ and who he knows despises him. " lam a most un-
1-1. liappy man (said he). 1 am invited to conversations.
1 go to conversations ; but, alas ! 1 have no conversa-
tion."— Johnson. " Man commonly cannot be suc-
cessful in different ways. This gentleman has spent,
in getting four thousand pounds a year, the time in
which he might have learnt to talk ; and now he can-
not talk." Mr. Perkins made a shrewd and droll re-
mark : " If he had got his four thousand a year as a
mountebank, he might have learnt to talk at the same
time that he was getting his fortune."
Some other gentlemen came in. The conversatoin
concerning the person whose character Dr. Johnson
had treated so slightingly, as he did not know his merit,
was resumed. Mrs. Thrale said, "You think so of
him. Sir, because he is quiet, and does not exert him-
self with force. You'll be saying the same thing of
Mr. ***** there, who sits as quiet — " This was not
well bred ; and Johnson did not let it pass without cor-
rection. " Nay, Madam, what right have you to talk
thus ? Both Mr. ***** and I have reason to take it
ill. You may talk so of Mr. *****; but why do you
make me do it. Have 1 said any thing against Mr.
***** \ You have set him, that 1 might shoot him :
but I have not shot him."
One of the gentlemen said, he had seen three folio
volumes of Dr. Johnson's sayings collected by me. " I
must put you right, Sir, (said .J ;) for 1 am very exact
in authenticity. • You could not see folio volumes, for
I have none : you might have seen some in quarto and
octavo. This is an inattention which one should
guard against." Johnson. " Sir, it is a want of con-
cern about veracity. He does not know that he saw
anij volumes. If he had seen them he could have re-
membered their size."
Mr. Thrale appeared very lethargick to-day. I saw
him again on Monday evening, at which time he was
not thought to be in immediate danger ; but early in
the morning of Wednesday the 4th, he expired. John-
son was in the house, and thus mentions the event : " I
DR. JOHNSON. 21i
felt almost the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for i78i.
the last time upon the face that for fifteen years had ^^
never been turned upon me but with respect and be- 72. '
nignity."^ Upon that day there was a Call of the
Literary Club ; but Johnson apologised for his ab-
sence by the following note :
*' Mr. Johnson knows that Sir Joshua Reynolds and
the other gentlemen will excuse his incompliance with
the Call, when they are told that Mr. Thrale died this
morning.^^
" Wednesday.^*
Mr. Thrale's death was a very essential loss to John-
son, who, although he did not foresee all that afterwards
happened, was sufficiently convinced that the comforts
which Mr. Thrale's family afforded him, would now in
a great measure cease. He, however, continued to
shew a kind attention to his widow and children as long
as it was acceptable : and he took upon him, with a very
earnest concern, the office of one of his executors, the
importance of which seemed greater than usual to him,
from his circumstances having been always such, that
he had scarcely any share in the real business of life.
His friends of the Club were in hopes that Mr. Thrale
might have made a liberal provision for him for his life,
which, as Mr. Thrale left no son, and a very large for-
tune, it would have been highly to his honour to have
done ; and, considering Dr. Johnson^s age, could not
have been of long duration ; but he bequeathed him
only two hundred pounds, which was the legacy given
to each of his executors. 1 could not but be somewhat
diverted by hearing Johnson talk in a pompous manner
of his new office, and particularly of the concerns of the
brewery, which it was at last resolved should be sold.
Lord Lucan tells a very good story, which, if not pre-
cisely exact, is certainly characteristical : that when the
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 191.
[Johnson's expressions on tliis occasion remind us of Isaac Walton's eulogy on
Whitgift, in his Life of Hooker. — " He lived to be present at the expiration of
her [Q. Elizabeth's] last breath, and to behold the closing of those eyes that had
long looked upon him with reverence and affection." K.]
21S THE LIFE OP
1781. sale of Thrale's brewery was going forward, Johnson
iEtaT ^PP^^red bustling about, with an ink-horn and pen in
72. his buttonhole, like an excise-man ; and on being
asked what he really considered to be the value of the
property which was to be disposed of, answered, " We
are not here to sell a parcel of boilers and vats, but the
potentiality of growing rich beyond the dreams of
avarice."
On Friday, April 6, he carried me to dine at a club,
which, at his desire, had been lately formed at the
Queen's Arms, in St. Paul's Church-yard. He told
Mr. Hoole, that he wished to have a Ci/i/ Club, and
asked him to collect one ; but, said he, " Don't let them
be patriots" The company were to-day very sensible,
well-behaved men. 1 have preserved only two partic-
ulars of his conversation. He said he was glad Lord
George Gordon had escaped, rather than that a prece-
dent should be established for hanging a man for con-
structive treason ; which, in consistency with his true,
manly, constitutional Toryism, he considered would be
a dangerous engine of arbitrary power. And upon its
being mentioned that an opulent and very indolent
Scotch nobleman, who totally resigned the management
of his affairs to a man of knowledge and abilities, had
claimed some merit by saying, " The next best thing
to managing a man's own affairs well, is being sensible
of incapacity, and not attempting it, but having full con-
fidence in one who can do it -P Johnson. " Nay, Sir,
this is paltry. There is a middle course. Let a man
give application ; and depend upon it he will soon get
above a despicable state of helplessness, and attain the
power of acting for himself."
On Saturday, April 7, I dined with him at Mr.
Hoole's with Governour Bouchier and Captain Orme,
both of whom had been long in the East-Indies ; and
being men of good sense and observation, were very
entertaining. Johnson defended the oriental regulation
of different casts of men,' which was objected to as to-
tally destructive of the hopes of rising in society by per-
' [Rajapouts, the iqilitaxy cast ; the ^ramins, pacifick and abstemious. K.l
DR. JOHNSON. 213
sonal merit. He shewed that there was a principle in i78i.
it sufficiently plausible by analogy. " We see (said he) ^J^
in metals that there are different species ; and so like- 72. *
wise in animals, though one species may not differ very
widely from another, as in the species of dogs, — the cur,
the spaniel, the mastiff. The Bramins are the mastiffs
of mankind."
On Thursday, April 12, I dined with him at a
Bishop's, where were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Beren-
ger, and some more company. He had dined the day
before at another Bishop's. I have unfortunately re-
corded none of his conversation at the Bishop's where
we dined together : but I have preserved his ingenious
defence of his dining twice abroad in Passion-week ; a
laxity, in which I am convinced he would not have in-
dulged himself at the time when he wrote his solemn
paper in " The Rambler," upon that aweful season. It
appeared to me, that by being much more in company,
and enjoying more luxurious living, he had contracted
a keener relish for pleasure, and was consequently less
rigorous in his religious rites. This he would not ac-
knowledge ; but he reasoned with admirable sophistry,
as follows : " Why, Sir, a Bishop's calling company
together in this week, is, to use the vulgar phrase, not
the thing. But you must consider laxity is a bad thing ;
but preciseness is also a bad thing ; and your general
character may be more hurt by preciseness than by din-
ing with a Bishop in Passion-week. There might be a
handle for reflection. It might be said, ' He refuses
to dine with a Bishop in Passion-week, but was three
Sundays absent from church." Boswell. " Very true,
Sir. But suppose a man to be uniformly of good con-
duct, would it not be better that he should refuse to
dine with a Bishop in this week, and so not encourage
a bad practice by his example ?" Johnson. " Wh}',
Sir, you are to consider whether you might not do
more harm by lessening the influence of a Bishop's
character by your disapprobation in refusing him, than
b^ going to him."
314 THE LIFE OP
1781.
iEtat. " TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
72. *
DEAR MADAM,
" Life is full of troubles. I have just lost my
dear friend Thrale. 1 hope he is happy ; but I have
had a great loss. I am otherwise pretty well. I re-
quire some care of myself, but that care is not ineffect-
ual ; and when 1 am out of order, 1 think it often my
own fault.
" The spring is now making quick advances. As it
is the season in which the whole world is enlivened
and invigorated, I hope that both you and 1 shall par-
take of its benefits. M}' desire is to see Lichfield ;
but being left executor to my friend, 1 know not
whether I can be spared ; but 1 will try, for it is now
long since we saw one another, and how little we can
promise ourselves many more interviews, we are taught
by hourly examples of mortality. Let us try to live so
as that mortality may not be an evil. Write to me
soon, my dearest ; your letters will give me great
pleasure.
" I am sorry that Mr. Porter has not had his box ; but
by sending it to Mr. Mathias, who very readily under-
took its conveyance, 1 did the best 1 could, and per-
haps before now he has it.
*' Be so kind as to make my compliments to my
friends ; I have a great value for their kindness, and
hope to enjoy it before summer is past. Do write to
me. I am, dearest love,
" Your most humble servant,
*' London^ April 12, 1781. " Sam. Johnson."
On Friday, April 13, being Good-Friday, I went to
St. Clement's church with him as usual. There 1 saw
again his old fellow-collegian, Edwards, to whom 1 said,
" 1 think, Sir, Dr. Johnson and you meet only at
Church." — " Sir, (said he,) it is the best place we can
meet in, except Heaven, and I hope we shall meet
there too." Dr. Johnson told me, that there was very
little communication between Edwards and him, after
THE LIFE OF 21^
their unexpected renewal of acquaintance. "But (said i78i.
he, smiling) he met me once, and said, ' I am told you J^
have written a very pretty book called The Rambler.^ 72. *
I was unwilling that he should leave the world in total
darkness, and sent him a set."
Mr. Berenger* visited him to-day, and was very
pleasing. We talked of an evening society for conver-
sation at a house in town, of which we were all mem-
bers, but of which Johnson said, " It will never do,
Sir. There is nothing served about there, neither tea,
nor coifee, nor lemonade, nor any thing whatever ; and
depend upon it, Sir, a man does not love to go to a
place from whence he comes out exactly as he went
in." I endeavoured for argument's sake, to maintain
that men of learning and talents might have very good
intellectual society, without the aid of any little grati-
fications of the senses. Berenger joined with Johnson,
and said, that without these any meeting would be dull
and insipid. He would therefore have all the slight
refreshments ; nay, it would not be amiss to have some
cold meat, and a bottle of wine upon a side-board.
" Sir, (said Johnson to me, with an air of triumph,) Mr.
Berenger knows the world. Every body loves to have
good things furnished to them without any trouble. I
told Mrs. Thrale once, that as she did not choose to
have card-tables, she should have a profusion of the
best sweetmeats, and she would be sure to have com-
pany enough come to her." 1 agreed with my illustri-
ous friend upon this subject ; for it has pleased God
to make man a composite animal, and where there is
nothing to refresh the body, the mind will languish.
On Sunday, April 15, being Easter-day, after solemn
worship in St. Paul's church, I found him alone ; Dr.
Scott, of the Commons, came in. He talked of its
having been said, that Addison wrote some of his best
papers in " The Spectator," when warm with wine.
Dr. Johnson did not seem willing to admit this. Dr.
Scott, as a confirmation of it, related, that Blackstone,
^ [Richard Berenger, Esq. many years Gentleman of the Horse to his present
Majesty, and authour of « The History and art of Horsemanship," In two volumes,
4to. 1771. M.l
216 DR. JOHNSON.
1781. a sober man, composed his " Commentaries" with a
^^^ bottle of port before him ; and found his mind invigor-
72. ated and supported in the fatigue of his great Work,
by a temperate use of it.
I told him, that in a company where I had lately
been, a desire was expressed to know his authority for
the shocking story of Addison's sending an execution
into Steele's house.- "Sir, (said he,) it is generally
known ; it is known to all who are acquainted with
the literary history of that period : it is as well known,
as that he wrote " Cato." Mr. Thomas Sheridan once
defended Addison to me, by alledging that he did it in
order to cover Steele's goods from other creditors, who
were going to seize them.
We talked of the difference between the mode of
education at Oxford, and that in those Colleges where
instruction is chiefly conveyed by lectures. Johnson.
" Lectures were once useful ; but now, when all can
read, and books are so numerous, lectures are unneces-
sary. If your attention fails, and you miss a part of
the lecture, it is lost ; you cannot go back as you do
upon a book." Dr. Scott agreed with him. " But yet
(said 1) Dr. Scott, you yourself gave lectures at Ox-
ford." He smiled. " You laughed (then said 1) at
those who came to you."
Dr. Scott left us, and soon afterwards we went to
dinner. Our company consisted of Mrs. Williams,
Mrs. Desmoulins, Mr. Levet, Mr. Allen, the printer,
[Mr. Macbean,] and Mrs. Hall, sister of the Reverend
Mr. John Wesley, and resembling him, as I thought,
both in figure and manner. Johnson produced now,
for the first time, some handsome silver salvers, which
he told me he had bought fourteen years ago ; so it
was a great day. 1 was not a little amused by observ-
ing Allen perpetually struggling to talk in the manner
of Johnson, like the little frog in the fable blowing
himself up to resemble the stately ox.
1 mentioned a kind of religious Kobinhood Society,
which met every Sunday evening at Coachmakers'-
- See this explained, p. 181, 1 82, of this volume.
DR. JOHNSON. 21/
ball, for free debate ; and that the subject for this night '78i.
was, the text which relates, with other miracles which ^taT
happened at our Saviour's death, " And the graves 72.
were opened, and many bodies of the saints which
slept arose, and came out of the graves after his resur-
rection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto
many." Mrs. Hall said it was a very curious subject,
and she should like to hear it discussed. Johnson.
(somewhat warmly) " One would not go to such a
place to hear it, — one would not be seen in such a
place — to give countenance to such a meeting." 1,
however, resolved that 1 would go. " But, hir, (said
she to Johnson,) I should like to hear ijou discuss it."
He seemed reluctant to engage in it. She talked of
the resurrection of the human race in general, and
maintained that we shall be raised with the same bodies.
Johnson. " Nay, Madam, we see that it is not to be
the same body ; for the Scripture uses the illustration
of grain sown, and we know that the grain which
grows is not the same with what is sown. You cannot
suppose that we shall rise with a diseased body ; it is
enough if there be such a sameness as to distinguish
identity of person." She seemed desirous of knowing
more, but he left the question in obscurity.
Of apparitions, 5 he observed, " A total disbelief of
them is adverse to the opinion of the existence of the
soul between death and the last day ; the question
simply is, whether departed spirits ever have the power
of making themselves perceptible to us : a man who
thinks he has seen an apparition, can only be convinc-
ed himself ; his authority will not convince another ;
and his conviction, if rational, must be founded on
\[^.s this subject frequently recurs in these volumes, the reader may be led erro-
Heo^sly to suppose that Dr. Johnson was so fond of such discussions, as frequently
to introduce them. But the truth is, that the authour himself delighted in talking
concerning ghosts, and what he has frequently denominated the mysUrious ; and
therefore took every opportunity of leading Johnson to converse on such sub-
jects. M.]
[The authour of this work was most undoubtedly fond of the' mysterious, and per-
haps upon some occasions may have directed the conversation to those topicks,
■vv'hen they would not soontaneously have >u3_ifes..ed themseives to Johnson's mind ;
but that le also had a love for speculations of that nature, may be gathered from
his writings throughout. J. B. — C]
VOL. m. 2S
218 THE LIFE OF
1781. being told something which cannot be known but by
jgj^ supernatural means.''
72. He mentioned a thing as not unfrequent, of which I
had never heard before, — being called^ that is, hearing
one's name pronounced by the voice of a known person
at a great distance, far beyond the possibihty of being
reached by any sound uttered by human organs. " An
acquaintance, on whose veracity 1 can depend, told
ine, that walking home one evening to Kilmarnock, he
heard himself called from a wood, by the voice of a
brother who had gone to America ; and the next
packet brought accounts of that brother's death."
Macbean asserted that this inexplicable calling was a
thing very well known. Dr. Johnson said, that one
day at Oxford, as he was turning the key of his cham-
ber, he heard his mother distinctly call — S'«/w. She
was then at Lichfield ; but nothing ensued. This phe-
nomenon is, 1 think, as wonderful as any other myste-
rious fact, which many people are very slow to believe.
or rather, indeed, reject with aq obstinate contempt.
Some time after this, upon his making a remark
which escaped my attention, Mrs. Williams and Mrs.
Hall were both together striving to answer him. He
grew angry, and called out loudly, " Nay, when you
both speak at once, it is intolerable." But checking
himself, and softening, he said, " This one may say,
though you are ladies." Then he brightened into gay
humour, and addressed them in the words of one of the
songs in " The Beggar's Opera."
" But two at a time there's no mortal can bear."
" What, Sir, (said I,) are you going to turn Captain
Macheath ?" There was something as pleasantly ludi-
crous in this scene as can be imagined. The contrast
between Macheath, Polly, and Lucy — and Dr. Samuel
Johnson, blind, peevish Mrs. Williams, and lean, lank,
preaching Mrs. Hall, was exquisite.
I stole away to Coachmaker's-hall, and heard the
difficult text of which we had talked, discussed with
great decency, and some intelligence, by several sj)eak-
ers. There was a difference of opinion as to the ap-
DR. JOHNSON. 919
pearance of ghosts in modern times, though the argu- ^7f^i.
ments for it, supported by Mr. Addison's authority, ^^
preponderated. The immediate subject of debate was 70.
embarrassed by the bodies of the saints having been
said to rise, and by the question what became of them
afterwards : — did they return again to their graves? or
were they translated to heaven ? Only one evangelist
mentions the fact,* and the commentators whom I
have looked at do not make the passage clear. There
is, however, no occasion for our understanding it far-
ther, than to know that it was one of the extraordinary
manifestations of divine power, which accompanied the
most important event that ever happened.
On Friday, April 20, 1 spent with him one of the
happiest days that I remember to have enjoyed in the
whole course of my life. Mrs. Garrick, whose grief
for the loss of her husband was, I beheve, as sincere
as wounded affection and admiration could produce,
had this day, for the first time since his death, a select
party of his friends to dine with her. The company
was. Miss Hannah More, who lived with her, and
whom she called her chaplain ; Mrs. Boscawen,' Mrs.
Elizabeth Carter, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Burney,
Dr. Johnson, and myself. We found ourselves very
elegantly entertained at her house in the Adelphi,
where I have passed many a pleasing hour with him
" who gladdened life." She looked well, talked of her
husband with complacency, and while she cast her
eyes on his portrait, which hung over the chimney-
piece, said, that '* death was now the most agreeable
object to her.'' The very semblance of David Garrick
was cheering. Mr. Beauclerk, with happy propriety,
inscribed under that fine portrait of him, which by
Lady Diana's kindness is now the property of my friend
Mr. Langton, the following passage from his beloved
Shakspeare :
A merrier man.
" Within the limit of becoming mirth,
' St. Matthew, chap, xxvii. v. 52, 53.
• See p. 45 of this volume.
220 THE LIFE OF
.*Z^' " ^ "^^'^r spent an hour's talk withal.
" His eye begets occasion for his wit ;
" For every object that the one doth catch,
" The other turns to a mirth -moving jest ;
*' Which his fiiir tongue (Conceit's expositor)
" Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
" That aged ears play truant at his tales,
" And younger hearings are quite ravished ;
" So sweet and voluble is his discourse."
We were all in fine spirits ; and I whispered to Mrs.
Boscawen, " 1 believe this is as much as can be made
of life." In addition to a splendid entertainment, we
were regaled with Lichfield ale, which had a peculiar
appropriate value. Sir Joshua, and Dr. Burney, and I,
drank cordially of it to Dr. Johnson's health ; and
though he would not join us, he as cordially answered,
" Gentlemen, 1 wish you all as well as you do me."
The general effect of this day dwells upon my mind
in fond remembrance ; but 1 do not find much con-
versation recorded. What 1 have preserved shall be
faithfully given.
One of the company mentioned Mr. Thomas Hollrs,
the strenuous Whig, who used to send over Europe
presents of democratical books, with their boards
stamped with daggers and caps of liberty. Mrs. Car-
ter said, " He was a bad man : he used to talk un-
charitably." Johnson. " Poh ! poh ! Madam ; who
is the worse for being talked of uncharitably ? Besides,
he was a dull poor creature as ever lived : and I believe
he would not have done harm to a man whom he knew
to be of very opposite principles to his own. 1 remem-
ber once at the Society of Arts, when an advertisement
was to be drawn up, he pointed me out as the man
who could do it best. This, you will observe, was
kindness to me. 1 however slipt away and escaped it."
Mrs. Carter having said of the same person, " 1 doubt
he was an Atheist." Johnson. "1 don't know that.
He might perhaps have become one, if he had had time
to ripen, (smiling.) He might have exuberated mio^.ii
Atheist."
DR. JOHNSON. 221
Sir Joshua Reynolds praised " Mudge's^ Sermons.^^ i78i.
Johnson. " Mudge's Sermons are good, but not prac- ^^
tical. He grasps more sense than he can hold ; he 72.
takes more corn than he can make into meal ; he opens
a wide prospect, but it is so distant, it is indistinct. I
love ' Blair's Sermons.' Though the dog is a Scotch-
man, and a Presbyterian, and every thing he should not
be, 1 was the first to praise them. Such was my can-
dour." (smiling.) Mrs. Boscawen. " Such his great
merit, to get the better of all your prejudices." John-
son. " Why, Madam, let us, compound the matter; let
us ascribe it to my candour, and his merit."
In the evening we had a large company in the draw-
ing-room ; several ladies, the Bishop of Killaloe, Dr.
Percy, Mr. Chamberlayne of the Treasury, &c. &c.
Somebody said, the life of a mere literary man could
not be very entertaining. Johnson. " But it certainly
may. This is a remark which has betn made, and re-
peated, without justice ; why should the life of a lite-
rary man be less entertaining than the life of any other
man ! Are there not as interesting varieties in such a
life ] as a literarij life it may be very entertaining."
BoswELL. " But it must be better surely, when it is di-
versified with a little active variety — such as his having
gone to Jamaica ; — or — his having gone to the He-
brides." Johnson was not displeased at this.
Talking of a very respectable authour, he told us a
curious circumstance in his life, which was, that he had
married a printer's devil. Reynolds. . "A printer's
devil, Sir ! Why, I thought a printer's devil was a crea-
ture with a black face and in rags." Johnson. " Yes,
Sir. But I suppose he had her face washed, and put
clean clothes on her. (Then looking very serious, and
very earnest.) And she did not disgrace him; — the
woman had a bottom of good sense." The word bottom
thus introduced, was so ludicrous when contrasted with
his gravity, that most of us could not forbear tittering
and laughing ; though I recollect that the Bishop of
Killaloe kept his countenance with perfect steadiness,
'■' See page 204 of this Volume.
222 THE LIFE OP
1781. while Miss Hannah More slyly hid her face behind u
^j^ lady's back who sat on the same settee with her. His
72. pride could not bear that any expression of his should
excite ridicule, when he did not intend it ; he there-
fore resolved to assume and exercise despotick power,
, glanced sternly around, and called out in a strong tone,
" Where's the merriment ?" Then collecting himself,
and looking aweful, to make us feel how he could im-
pose restraint, and as it were searching his mind for a
still more ludicrous word, he slowly pronounced, " I
say the xvoman \\ ^% fmidamentallij sensible ; as if he had
said, hear this now, and laugh if you dare. We all sat
composed as at a funeral.
He and 1 walked away together; we stopped a little
whileby the rails of the Adelphi, looking on the Thames,
and I said to him with some emotion, that I was now
thinking of two friends we had lost, who once lived in
the buildings behind us, Beauclerk and Garrick. "Ay,
Sir, (said he, tenderly) and two such friends as cannot
be supplied."
For some time after this day I did not see him very
often, and of the conversation which I did enjoy, I am
sorry to find I have preserved but little. I was at this
time engaged in a variety of other matters, which re-
quired exertion and assiduity, and necessarily occupied
almost all my time.
One day having spoken very freely of those who were
then in power, he said to me, " Between ourselves,
Sir, 1 do not like to give opposition the satisfaction of
knowing how much 1 disapprove of the ministry."
And when I mentioned that Mr. Burke had boasted
how quiet the nation was in George the Second's reign,
when Whigs were in power, compared with the pres-
ent reign, when Tories governed ; — " Why, Sir, (said
he) you are to consider that Tories having more rever-
ence for government, will not oppose with the same vi-
olence as Whigs, who being unrestrained by that prin-
ciple, will oppose by any means."
This month he lost not only Mr. Thrale, but another
friend, Mr. William Strahan, Junior, printer, the eldest
son of his old and constant friend, Printer to his Majesty.
DR. JOHNSON. 223
1781.
"TO MRS. STRAHAN. ^
" DEAR MADAM, ^^'
" The grief which I feel for the loss of a very
kind friend, is sufficient to make me know how much
you suffer by the death of an amiable son : a man, of
whom 1 think it may be truly said, that no one knew
him who does not lament him. 1 look upon myself as
having a friend, another friend, taken from me.
" Comfort, dear Madam, 1 would give you, if I
could ; but I know how little the forms of consolation
can avail. Let me, however, counsel you not to waste
your health in unprofitable sorrow, but go to Bath,
and endeavour to prolong your own life ; but when we
have all done all that we can, one friend must in time
lose the other.
" I am, dear Madam,
" Your most humble servant,
" April 23, 1781. " Sam. Johnson."
On Tuesday, iSIay 8, I had the pleasure of again
dining with him and Mr. Wilkes, at Mr. Dilly's. No
negociation was now required to bring them together;
for Johnson was so well satisfied with the former inter-
view, that he was very glad to meet Wilkes again, who
was this day seated between Dr. Beattie and Dr. John-
son ; (between Truth and Reasoji, as General Paoli
said, when 1 told him of it.) Wilkes. " I have been
thinking, Dr. Johnson, that there should be a bill
brought into parlianient that the controverted elections
for Scotland should be tried in that country, at their
own Abbey of Holy-Rood House, and not here ; for
the consequence of trying them here is, that we have
an inundation of Scotchmen, who come up and never
go back again. Now here is Bos well, who is come
upon the election for his own count}^ which will not
last a fortnight." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, I see no rea-
son why they should be tried at all ; for, you know,
one Scotchman is as good as another." Wilkes.
" Pray, Bos well, how much may be got in a year by
224< THE LIFE OF
1781. an Advocate at the Scotch bar ?" Bos well. " I be-
^■^ lieve, two thousand pounds." Wilkes. " How can
72. it be possible to spend that money in Scotland ?"
Johnson. " Why, !5ir, the money may be spent in
England ; but there is a harder question. If one man
in Scotland gets possession of two thousand pounds,
what remains for all the rest of the nation V VVilkes.
" You know, in the last war, the immense booty which
Thurot carried off by the complete plunder of seven
Scotch isles ; he re-embarked w ith f/zre^^ and six-pence."
Here again Johnson and Wilkes joined in extravagant
sportive raillery upon the supposed poverty of Scotland,
which Dr. Beattie and 1 did not think it worth our
while to dispute.
The subject of quotation being introduced, Mr.
Wilkes censured it as pedantry. Johnson. " No, Sir,
it is a good thing ; there is a community of mind in it.
Classical quotation is the parole of literary men all over
the world." Wilkes. " Upon the continent they all
quote the vulgate Bible. Shakspeare is chiefly quoted
here; and we quote also Pope, Trior, Butler, Waller,
and sometimes Cowley."
W^e talked of Letter- writing. Johnson. " It is now
become so much the fashion to publish letters, that in
order to avoid it, I put as little into mine as I can."
Boswell. " Do what you will. Sir, you cannot avoid
it. Should you even write as ill as you can, your letters
would be published as curiosities :
* Behold a miracle ! instead (tf wit,
' See two dull lines with Stanhope's pencil writ."
He gave us an entertaining account of Bet Flint., a
woman of the town, who, with some eccentrick talents
and much effrontery, forced herself upon his acquaint-
ance. "Bet (said he) wrote her own Life in verse,"
" Johnson, whose memory was wonderfully retentive, remembered the first four
lines of this curious production, which have been communicated to me by a young
lady of his acquaintance :
" When first I drew my vital breath,
" A little minikin I came upon earth ;
" And then I came from a dark abode,
" Into this gay and gaudy world."
BR. JOHNSON. 32i
which she brought to me, wishing that I would furnish '/Si.
her with a Pieiace to it. (Laughing.) I used to say of J^
her, that she was generally slut and drunkard ; — occa-* 72. *
sionally, whore and thief. She had, however, genteel:
lodgings, a spinnet on which she played, and a boy
that walked before her chair. Poor Bet was taken up
on a charge of stealing a counterpane, and tried at the
Old Bailey. Chief Justice , who loved a
wench, summed up favourably, and she was acquitted.*
After which. Bet said, with a gay and satisfied air,
* Now that the counterpane is my own, 1 shall make a
petticoat of it."
Talking of oratory, Mr. Wilkes described it as ac-
companied with all the charms of poetical expression.
Johnson. " No, Sir ; oratory is the power of beating
down your adversary's arguments, and putting better
in their place."' — Wilkes. " But this does not move
the passions." Johnson. " He must be a weak man,
who is to be so moved." Wilkes, (naming a cele-
brated orator) " Amidst all the brilliancy of 's
imagination, and the exuberance of his wit, there is a
strange want of taste. It was observed of Apelles's
Venus,' that her flesh seemed as if she had been nour-
ished by roses : his oratory would sometimes make one
suspect that he eats potatoes and drinks whisky."
Mr. Wilkes observed, how tenacious we are of forms
in this country ; and gave as an instance, the vote of
the House of Commons for remittino- money to pay
the army in America in Portugal pieces, when, in re-^
* [The account which Johnson had received on this occasion, was not quite ac'
curate. Bet was tried at the Old Bailey in September, 1758, not by the Chief
Justice here alluded to, (who however tried another cause on the same day,) but
before Sir William Moreton, Recorder ; and she was acquitted, not in consequence
of any fa-uourable summing up of the Judge, but because the Prosecutrix, Mary Wal-
thow, could not prove that the goods charged to have been stolen, [a counterpane,
a silver spoon, two napkins, &c.] were her property.
Bet does not appear to have lived at that time in a very genteel style ; for she
paid for her ready-furnished room in Meard's Court, Dean Street, Soho, from which,
these articles were alledged to be stolen, onXy Ji-ue shillings a week.
Mr. James Boswell took the trouble to examine the Sessions Paper, to as<?ertain
these particulars. M.]
' [Mr. Wilkes mistook the objection of Euphranor to the Theseus of Parrha-
fsius for a description of the Venus of Apelles. Vide Plutarch. "■ BdUne an pace
flariores Atbenienses" K.l
VOL. III. 50
996 THE LIFE OF
I78i.ality, the remittance is made not in Portugal money,
but in our specie. Johnson. " Is there not a law, Sir,
against exporting the current coin of the realm V
Wilkes. " Yes, Sir ; but might not the House of
Commons, in case of real evident necessity, order our
own current coin to be sent into our own colonies ?" —
Here Johnson, with that quickness of recollection
which distinguished him so eminently, gave the Mid-
dlesex Patriot an admirable retort upon his own ground.
" Sure, Sir, you don't think a resolution of the House of
Commons equal to the law of the land. Wilkes, (at
once perceiving the application) " God forbid, Sir," —
To hear what had been treated with such violence in
" The False Alarm," now turned into pleasant repartee,
was extremely agreeable. Johnson went on : — " Locke
observes well, that a prohibition to export the current
coin is impolitick ; for when the balance of trade hap-
pens to be against a state, the current coin must be
exported."
Mr. Beauclerk's great library was this season sold in
London by auction. Mr. Wilkes said, he wondered to
find in it such a numerous collection of sermons :
seeming to think it strange that a gentleman of Mr.
Beauclerk's character in the gay world, should have
chosen to have many compositions of that kind. John-
son. " Why, Sir, you are to consider, that sermons
jnake a considerable branch of English literature ; so
that a library must be very imperfect if it has not a
numerous collection of sermons:' and in all collec-
' Mr. Wilkes probably did not know that there is in an Englisli sermon the most,
comprehensive and lively account of that entertaining faculty, for which he himself
was so much admired. It is in Dr. Barrow's first volume, and fourteenth sermon.
" Against foolish Talking and Jesting^ My old acquaintance, the late Corbyn Morris,
in his ingenious " Essay on Wit, Humour, and Ridicule," calls it " a profuse de-
scription of Wit :" but I do not see how it could be curtailed, without leaving out
some good circumstance of discrimination. As it is not generally known, and
may perhaps dispose some to read sermons, from which they may receive real ad-
vantage, while looking only for entertainment, I shall here subjoin it.
" But first (says the learned preacher) it may be demanded, what the thing w«
speak of is ! Or what this facetiousness (or luH, as he calls it before) doth import ?
To which questions I migiit reply, as Bemocritus did to him that asked the defi-
nition of a man, ' 'Tis that which we all see and know.' Any one better appre-
hends what it is by acquaintance, than I can inform him by description. It is, in-
deed, a thing so versatile and multiform, appearing in so many shapes, so many
postures, so many garbs, so variou?ly apprehended by several eyes and judgements/
DR. JOHNSON. :a27
tions, Sir, the desire of augmenting them grows stronger i78i.
in proportion to the advance in acquisition ; as motion ^e^
is accelerated by the continuance of the impefns. Be- 72.
sides, Sir, (looking at Mr. Wilkes with a placid but
significant smile) a man may collect sermons with in-
tention of making himself better by them. 1 hope Mr.
Beauclerk intended, that some time or other that should
be the case with him."
Mr. Wilkes said to me, loud enough for Dr. John-
son to hear, " Dr. Johnson should make me a present
of his ' Lives of the Poets,' as 1 am a poor patriot, who
cannot afford to buy them." Johnson seemed to take
no notice of this hint ; but in a little while, he called
to Mr. Dilly, " Pray, Sir, be so good as to send a set
of my Lives to Mr. Wilkes, with my compliments."
This was accordingly done ; and Mr. Wilkes paid Dr.
that it seemeth no less hard to settle a clear aad certain notion thereof, than to
make a portrait of Proteus, or to define the figure of the fleeting air. Sometimes it
lieth in pat allusion to a known story, or in seasonable application of a trivial say-
ing, or in forging an opposite tale ; sometimes it playeth in words and phrases, tak-
ing advantage from the ambiguity of their sense, or the affinity of their sound ;
sometimes it is wrapped in a dress of humourous expression : sometimes it lurketh
under an odd similitude : sometimes it is lodged in a sly question, in a smart an-
swer, in a quirldsh reason, in a shrewd intimation. In cunningly diverting or clev-
erly retorting an objection : sometimes it is couched in a bold scheme of speech, in
a tart irony, in a lusty hyperbole, in a startling metaphor, in a plausible reconciling
of contradictions, or in acute nonsense : sometimes a scenical representation of per-
sons or things, a counterfeit speech, a mimical look or gesture, passeth for it :
sometimes an affected simplicity, sometimes a presumptuous bluntness glveth it be-
ing ; sometimes it riseth only from a lucky hitting upon what is strange : sometimes
from a crafty wresting obvious matter to the purpose. Often it consisteth in one
knows not what, and springeth up one can hardly tell how. Its ways are unac-
countable, and inexplicable ; bemg answerable to the numberless rovings of fancy,
and windings of language. It is, in short, a manner of speaking out of the simple
and plain way, (such as reason teacheth and proveth things by,) which by a pretty
surprising uncouthness in conceit or expression, doth affect and amuse the fancy,
stirring in it some wonder, and breeding some delight thereto. It raiseth admira-
tion, as signifying a nimble sagacity of apprehension, a special felicity of invention,
a vivacity of spirit, and reach of wit more than vulgar ; it seeming to argue a rare
quickness of parts, that one can fetch in remote conceits applicable ; a notable skill,
that he can dextrously accommodate them to the purpose before him ; together
with a lively briskness of humour, not apt to damp those sportful flashes of imag-
ination. (Whence in Aristotle such persons are termed iTrtSi^wi, dextrous men,
and Eucpopof, men of facile or versatile manners, who can easily turn themselves
to all things, or turn all things to themselves.) It also procureth dehght, by grati-
fying curiosity with its rareness, as semblance of difficulty : (as monsters, not for
their beauty, but their rarity ; as juggling tricks, not for their use, but their ab«
struseness, are beheld with pleasure :) by diverting the mind from its road of se-
rious thoughts ; by instilling gaiety and airiness of spirit ; by provoking to such
dispositions of spirit in way of emulation or complaisance ; and by seasoning mat-<
tcrs, otber>vise distasteful or insipid, with an unusual and tlience grateful tang."
228 THE LIFE OF
1781. Johnson a visit, was courteously received, and sat with
^J^hima longtime.
72. The company gradually dropped away. Mr. Dilly
himself was called down stairs upon business ; 1 left
the room for some time ; when 1 returned, I was
struck with observing Dr. Samuel Johnson and John
Wilkes, Esq. literally tSte-d-tite ; for they were reclin-
ed upon their chairs, with their heads leaning almost
close to each other, and talking earnestly, in a kind of
confidential whisper, of the personal quarrel between
George the Second and the King of Prussia. Such a
scene of perfectly easy sociality between two such op-
ponents in the war of political controversy, as that
which 1 now beheld, would have been an excellent
subject for a picture. It presented to my mind the
happy days which are foretold in Scripture, when the
lion ^hall lie down with the kid.*
After this day there was a another pretty long inter-
val, during which Dr. Johnson and I did not meet.
When 1 mentioned it to him with regret, he was pleas-
ed to say, " Then, Sir, let us live double."
About this time it was much the fashion for several
ladies to have evening assemblies, where the fair sex
might participate in conversation with literary and in-
genious men, animated by a desire to please. These
societies were denominated Blue-stocking Cluhs^ the
origin of which title being little known, it may be
worth while to relate it. One of the most eminent
members of those societies, when they first commenc-
ed, was Mr. Stillingfleet, ' whose dress was remarkably
grave, and in particular it was observed, that he wore
blue stockings. Such was the excellence of his con-
versation, that his absence was felt as so great a loss,
that it used to be said, " We can do nothing without
the bluestockings ;" and thus by degrees the title was
^ when I mentioned this to the Bishop of Killaloe, " with the goat" said his
Lordship. Such, however, was the engajring politeness and pleasantry of Mr.
Wilkes, and such the social good humour of the Bishop, that when they dined to-
gether at Mr. Diily's, where I also was, they were mutually agreeable.
' Mr. Benjan^n Stillingfleet, authour of tracks relating to natural history, &c,
DR. JOHNSON. 229
established. Miss Hannah More has admirably de- i78i.
scribed a Blue-stocking Club, in her " Bas Bleu" a ^^Etlt^,
poem in which many of the persons who were most 72.
conspicuous there are mentioned.
Johnson was prevailed with to come sometimes into
these circles, and did not think himself too grave even
for the lively Miss Monckton (now Countess of Corke)
who used to have the finest bit of blue at the house of
her mother, Lady Galway. Her vivacity enchanted
the Sage, and they used to talk together with all imag-
inable ease. A singular instance happened one eve-
ning, when she insisted that some of Sterne's writings
were very pathetick. Johnson bluntly denied it. " I
am sure (said she) they have affected me''' — '• Why
(said Johnson, smiling, and rolling himself about,) that
is, because, dearest, you're a dunce." When she
some time afterwards mentioned this to him, he said
with equal truth and politeness ; " Madam, if 1 had
thought so, I certainly should not have said it."
Another evening Johnson's kind indulgence towards
me had a pretty difficult trial. I had dined at the
Duke of Montrose's with a very agreeable party, and
his Grace, according to his usual custom, had circulat-
ed the bottle very freely. Lord Graham and I went
together to Miss Monckton's, where 1 certainly was in
extraordinary spirits, and above all fear or awe. In
the midst of a great number of persons of the first rank,
amongst whom 1 recollect with confusion, a noble lady
of the most stately decorum, 1 placed myself next to
Johnson, and thinking myself now fully his match,
talked to him in a loud and boisterous manner, desir-
ous to let the company know how 1 could contend
with Ajax. 1 particularly remember pressing him up-
on the value of the pleasures of the imagination, and
as an illustration of my argument, asking him, " What,
Sir, supposing I were to fancy that the (naming
the most charming Duchess in his Majesty's domin-
ions) were in love with me, should 1 not be very
happy \" My friend with much address evaded my
interrogatories, and kept me as quiet as possible ; but
230 THE LIFE OF
1781. it may easily be conceived how he must have felt.*
^J^ However, when a few days afterwards 1 waited upon
72. him and made an apology, he behaved with the most
friendly gentleness.
While I remained in London this year, Johnson and
I dined together at several places. 1 recollect a placid
day at Dr. Butter's, who had now removed from Derby
to Lower-Grosvenor-street, London ; but of his conver-
sation on that and other occasions during this period, I
neglected to keep any regular record, and shall there-
fore insert here some miscellaneous articles which 1
find in my Johnsonian notes.
His disorderly habits, when " making provision for
the day that was passing over him," appear from the
following anecdote, communicated to me by Mr. John
Nichols : — " in the year 176.3, a young bookseller, who
was an apprentice to Mr. Whiston, waited on him with
a subscription to his ' Shakspeare :' and observing that
the Doctor made no entry in any book of the subscrib-
er's name, ventured diffidently to ask, whether he would
" Next day I endeavoured to give what had happened the most ingenious tura
r could, by the following verses :
TO THE HONOCRABLE MISS MONCKTON,
Not that with th' excellent Montrose
I had the happiness to dine ;
Not rhat I late from table rose,
From Graham's wit, from generous wine.
It was not these alone which led
On sacred manners to encroach ;
And made me feel what most 1 dread,
Johnson's just frown, and self-reproach.
But when I enter'd, not abash'd,
From your bright eyes were shot such rays,
At once intoxication flash 'd.
And all my frame was in a blaze !
But not a brilliant blaze I own,
Of the dull smoke I'm yet asham'd ;
I was a dreary ruin grown,
And not enlighten 'd though inflam'd;
Victim at once to wine and love,
I hope, Maria, you'll forgive ;
While I invoke the powers above,
That henceforth I may wiser live.
I'he lady was generously forgivmg, returned me an obliging aus^vcr, aiid I thus
attained an Act of Oblhioa, and took care never to offend again.
DR. JOHNSON. 231
please to have the gentleman's address, that it might be i78i.
properly inserted in the printed hst of subscribers. — ^J^
' / shall print no List of Subscribers ;' said Johnson, 72. *
with great abruptness : but ahnost immediately recol-
lecting himself, added, very complacently, ' Sir, I have
two very cogent reasons for not printing any list of sub-
scribers ; — one, that I have lost all the names, — the
other, that 1 have spent all the money."
Johnson could not brook appearing to be worsted in
argument, even when he had taken the wrong side, to
shew the force and dexterity of his talents. When,
therefore, he perceived that his opponent gained ground,
he had recourse to some sudden mode of robust soph-
istry. Once when I was pressing upon him with visi-
ble advantage, he stopped me thus : — " My dear Bos-
well, let's have no more of this ; you'll make nothing
of it. I'd rather have you whistle a Scotch tune."
Care, however, must be taken to distinguish between
Johnson when he " talked for victory," and Johnson
when he had no desire but to inform and illustrate. —
*•* One of Johnson's principal talents (says an eminent
friend of his)^ was shewn in maintaining the wrong
side of an argument, and in a splendid perversion of
the truth. — If you could contrive to have his fair opin-
ion on a subject, and without any bias from personal
prejudice, or from a wish to be victorious in argument,
it was wisdom itself, not only convincing, but overpow-
ering."
He had, however, all his life habituated himself to
consider conversation as a trial of intellectual vigour
and skill ; and to this I think, we may venture to as-
cribe that unexampled richness and brilliancy which
appeared in his own. As a proof at once of his eager-
ness for colloquial distinction, and his high notion of
this eminent friend, he once addressed him thus :
" , we now have been several hours together ; and
you have said but one thing for which I envied you."
He disliked much all speculative desponding consid-
erations, which tended to discourage men from dili-
' rThe late Right Hon. WiUiara Gerrard Hamilton. M?
232 THE LIFE OP
1781. gence and exertion. He was in this like Dr. Shaw,
^^ the great traveller, who Mr. Daines Harrington told me,
72. used to say, " I hate a cui bono man." Upon being
asked by a friend what he should think of a man who
was apt to say non est tanti ; — " That he^s a stupid fel-
low, Sir, (answered Johnson) : What would these tanti
men be doing the while ?" When I in a low-spirited
fit, was talking to him with indifference of the pursuits
which generally engage us in a course of action, and
enquiring a reason for taking so much trouble ; " Sir
(said he, in an animated tone) it is driving on the sys-
tem of life."
He told me, that he was glad that 1 had, by General
Oglethorpe's means, become acquainted with Dr. Sheb-
beare. Indeed that gentleman, whatever objections
were made to him, had knowledge and abilities much
above the class of ordinary writers, and deserves to be
remembered as a respectable name in literature, were
it only for his admirable " Letters on the English Na-
tion," under the name of " Battista Angeloni, a Jesuit."
Johnson and Shebbeare,^ were frequently named to-
gether, as having in former reigns had no predilection
for the family of Hanover. The authour of the cele-
brated " Heroick Epistle to Sir William Chambers,"
introduces them in one line, in a list of those " who
tasted the sweets of his present Majesty's reign." Such
was Johnson's candid relish of the merit of that satire,
that he allowed Dr. Goldsmith, as he told me, to read
it to him from beginning to end^ and did not refuse his
praise to its execution.
Goldsmith could sometimes take adventurous liber-
ties with him, and escape unpunished. Beauclerk told
me that when Goldsmith talked of a project for having
a third Theatre in London solely for the exhibition of
new plays, in order to deliver authours from the sup-
posed tyranny of managers, Johnson treated it slight-
ingly, upon which Goldsmith said, " Ay, ay, this may
be nothing to you, who can now shelter yourself be-
' I recollect a ludicrous paragraph in the newspapers, tliat the King had p^n-
sion^ both a if<r-bear and a ^Af-bear.
DR. JOHNSON. 233
hind the corner of a pension ;" and Johnson bore this 17bi.
with good-humour. ^uT.
Johnson praised the Earl of Carlisle's Poems, which 72. *
his Lordship had published with his name, as not dis-
daining to be a candidate for literary fame. My friend
was of opinion, that when a man of rank appeared in
that character, he deserved to have his merit hand-
somely allowed.^ In this 1 think he was more liberal
than Mr. William Whitehead, in his " Elegy to Lord
Villiers," in which under the pretext of " superiour
toils, demanding all their care," he discovers a jealousy
of the great paying their court to the Muses :
" to the chosen few
" Who dare excel, thy fost'ring aid afford,
" Their arts, their magick powers, with honours, due
" Exalt ; — but be thyself what they record."
Johnson had called twice on the Bishop of Killaloe
before his Lordship set out for Ireland, having missed
him the first time. He said, " It would have hung
heavy on my heart if 1 had not seen him. No man
ever paid more attention to another than he has done
■ Men of rank and fortune however should be pretty well assured of having a
real claim to the approbation of the publick, as writers, before they venture to
stand forth. Dryden in his preface to " All for Love," thus expresses himself :
" Men of pleasant conversation (at least esteemed so) and endued with a trifling
kind of fancy, perhaps helped out by a smattering of Latin, are ambitious to
distinguish themselves from the herd of gentlemen, by their poetry :
' Rarus enim fermi sensus communis in ilia
' Fortuna^ ■
And is not this a wretched affectation, not to be contented with what fortune has
done for them, and sit down quietly with their estates, but they must call their
wits in question, and needlessly expose their nakedness to publick view ? Not con-
sidering that they are not to expect the same approbation from sober men, which
they have found from their flatterers after the third bottle : If a little gUttering in
discourse has passed them on us for witty men, where was the necessity of unde-
ceiving the world ? Would a man, who has an ill title to an estate, but yet is in
possession of it, would he bring it out of his own accord to be tried at Westminster ?
We who write, if we want the talents, yet have the excuse that we do it for a poor
subsistence ; but what can be urged in tlieir defence, who, not having the voca-
tion of poverty to scribble, out of mere wantonness take pains to make themselves
ridiculous ? Horace was certainly In the right where he said, ' That no man is
satisfied with his own condition.' A Poet is not pleased, because he is not rich ;
and the rich are discontented because the poets will not admit fhem of their
number."
YO),. ITT. 30
234? THE LIFE OF
1781. to me ;* and I have neglected him, not wilfully, but
^^ from being otherwise occupied. Always, Sir, set a
72. high value on spontaneous kindness. He whose in-
clination prompts him to cultivate your friendship of
his own accord, will love you more than one whom
you have been at pains to attdch to you."
Johnson told me, that he was once much pleased
to find that a carpenter, who lived near him, was very
ready to shew him some things in his business which
he wished to see : " It was paying (said he) respect
to literature."
i asked him, if he was not dissatisfied with having
so small a share of wealth, and none of those distinc-
tions in the state which are the objects of ambition.
He had only a pension of three hundred a year. Why
was he not in such circumstances as to keep his coach!
Why had he not some considerable office ! Johnson.
" Sir, 1 have never complained of the world ; nor do I
think that I have reason to complain. It is rather to
be wondered at that 1 have so much. My pension is
more out of the usual course of things than any in-
stance that 1 have known. Here, Sir, was a man avow-
edly no friend to Government at the time, who got a
pension without asking for it. I never courted the
great ; they sent for me ; but I think they now give
me up. They are satisfied ; they have seen enough
of me." Upon my observing that I could not believe
this ; for they must certainly be highly pleased by his
conversation ; conscious of his own superiority, he
answered, " No, Sir ; great Lords and great Ladies
8 This gave me very great pleasure, for there had been once a pretty smart al-
terc;ition between Dr. Barnard and him. upon a question, whether a man could
improve himself after the age of forty-five ; when Johnson in a hasty humour,
expres-^ed himself in a manner not quite civil. Dr. Barnard made it the subject of
a copy of pleasant verses, in which he supposed himself to learn different perfec-
tions Irora different men. They concluded with delicate irony :
" Johnson shall teach me how to place
" In fairest light each borrow'd grace ;
" From him I'll learn to write :
" Copy his clear familiar style,
" And by the roughness of his file
" Grow, like himself, polite"
I know not whether Johnson ever saw the Poem, but I had occasion to find that
as Dr. Barnard and he knew each other better, their mutual regard increased.
DR. JOHNSON. 935
don't love to have their mouths stopped." This was i78i.
very expressive of the effect which the force of his ^^^
understanding and brilliancy of his fancy could not but 72. '
produce ; and, to be sure, they must have found them-
selves strangely diminished in his company. When I
warmly declared how happy 1 was at all times to hear
him ; — " Yes, Sir, (said he ;) but if you were Lord
Chancellor, it would not be so : you would then con-
sider your own dignity."
There was much truth and knowledge of human
nature in this remark. But certainly one should think,
that in whatever elevated state of life a man who knew
the value of the conversation of Johnson might be
placed, though he might prudently avoid a situation in
which he might appear lessened by comparison ; yet
he would frequently gratify himself in private with the
participation of the rich intellectual entertainment
which Johnson could furnish. Strange, however, is it,
to consider how few of the great sought his society ; so
that if one were disposed to take occasion for satire on
that account, very conspicuous objects present them-
selves. His noble friend, Lord Elibank, well observed,
that if a great man procured an interview with John-
son, and did not wish to see him more, it shewed a
mere idle curiosity, and a wretched want of relish for
extraordinary powers of mind. Mrs. Thrale justly and
wittily accounted for such conduct by saying, that
Johnson's conversation was by much too strong for a
person accustomed to obsequiousness and flattery ; it
was mustard in a young cJiilcTs mouth !
One day, when 1 told him that I was a zealous
Tory, but not enough " according to knowledge," and
should be obliged to him for " a reason," he was so
candid, and expressed himself so well, that 1 begged of
him to repeat what he had said, and I wrote down as
follows :
OF TORY AND WHIG.
"A wise Tory and a wise Whig, I believe, will
agree. Their principles are the same, though their
modes of thinking are different. A high i'orv makes
government unintelligible : it is lost in the clouds. A
236 IHE LIFE OF
1781. violent Whig makes it impracticable : he is for alLow-
2J^ ing so much liberty to every man, that there is not
73, * power enough to govern any man. The prejudice of
the Tory is for establishment ; the prejudice of the
Whig is for innovation. A Tory does not wish to give
more real power to Government ; but that Govern-
ment should have more reverence. Then they differ
as to the church. The Tory is not for giving more
legal power to the Clergy, but wishes they should have
a "considerable influence, founded on the opinion of
mankind : the Whig is for limiting and watching them
"with a narrow jealousy,"
" TO MR. PERKINS.
*'SIR,
" Hov\rEVER often I have seen you, I have hither-
to forgotten the note, but I have now sent it : with
my good wishes for the prosperity of you and your
partner, 3 of whom, from our short conversation, 1 could
not judge otherwise than favourably. I am, Sir,
'* Your most humble servant,
" June 2, 1781. " Sam. Johnson."
On Saturday, June 2, I set out for Scotland, and
had promised to pay a visit, in my way, as 1 sometimes
did, at Southill, in Bedfordshire, at the hospitable
mansion of 'Squire Dilly, the elder brother of my
worthy friends, the booksellers, in the Poultry. Dr.
Johnson agreed to be of the party this year, with Mr.
Charles Dilly and me, and to go and see Lord Bute's
seat at Luton Hoe. He talked little to us in the car-
riage, being chiefly occupied in reading Dr. Watson's*
' Mr. Barclay, a descendant of Robert Barclay, of Ury, the celebrated apolo>
gist of the people called Quakers, and remarkable for maintaining the principles of
his venerable progenitor, with as much of the elegance" of modern manners, as is
consistent with primitive simplicity.
Now Bishop of LlandafT, one of tlie poorest Bishopricks in this Kingdom. Hi»
Lordship has written with much zeal to shew the propriety of equalising the reve-
nues of Bishops. He has informed us that he has burnt all his Chemical papers^
The friends of our excellent constitution, now assailed on every side by innova-<
tors and levellers, woidd have le5s regretted the ^upprcwion of some of his Lord*
ship's other writings* ^
DR. JOHNSON. g37
second volume of " Chemical Essays," which he liked '781.
very well, and his own " Prince of Abyssinia," on ^^^
which he seemed to be intensely fixed ; having told us, 70.
that he had not looked at it since it was first published.
I happened to take it out of my pocket this day, and
he seized upon it with avidity. He pointed out to me
the following remarkable passage : " By what means
(said the prince) are the Europeans thus powerful ; or
why, since they can so easily visit Asia and Africa for
trade or conquest, cannot the Asiaticks and Africans
invade their coasts, plant colonies^ in their ports, and
give laws to their natural princes ? The same wind
that carried them back would bring us thither." —
" They are more powerful. Sir, than we, (answered
Imlac,) because they are wiser. Knowledge will al-
ways predominate over ignorance, as man governs the
other animals. But why their knowledge is more than
ours, 1 know not what reason can be given, but the
unsearchable will of the Supreme Being." He said,
" This, Sir, no man can explain otherwise."
We stopped at Welwin, where I wished much to see,
in company with Johnson, the residence of the authour
of " Night Thoughts," which was then possessed by
his son, Mr. Young. Here some address was requisite,
for I was not acquainted with Mr. Young, and had I
proposed to Dr. Johnson that we should send to him,
he would have checked my wish, and perhaps been of-
fended. 1 therefore concerted with Mr. Dilly, that I
should steal away from Dr. Johnson and him, and try
what reception I could procure from Mr. Young ; if
unfavourable, nothing was to be said ; but if agreeable,
I should return and notify it to them. I hastened to
Mr. Young's, found he was at home, sent in word that
a gentleman desired to wait upon him, and was shewn
into a parlour, where he and a young lady, his daughter,
were sitting. He appeared to be a plain, civil, country
gentleman ; and when 1 begged pardon for presummg
to trouble him, but that I wished much to see his place,
if he would give me leave ; he behaved very courte-
' [The Phoenicians wd Carthaginians did plant coloraes in Europe. K.]
238 THE LIFE OF
1781. ously, and answered, "By all means, Sir; we are just
^tat ^*^'"8' ^^ drink tea ; will you sit down ?" I thanked him,
72. but said, that Dr. Johnson had eome with me from Lon-
don, and 1 must return to the inn to drink tea with
him : that my name was Boswell, I had travelled with
him in the Hebrides.. " Sir, (said he) I should think
it a great honour to see Dr. Johnson here. Will you
allow me to send for him?" Availing myself of this
opening, I said that " 1 would go myself and bring him,
when he had drunk tea ; he knew nothing of my calling
here." Having been thus successful, I hastened back
to the inn, and informed Dr. .lohnson that " xVIr. Young,
son of Dr. Young, the authour of ' Night Thoughts,'
whom 1 had just left, desired to have the honour of
seeing him at the house where his father lived." Dr.
Johnson luckily made no enquiry how this invitation
had arisen, but agreed to go, and when we entered Mr.
Young's parlour, he addressed him with a very polite
bow, " Sir, I had a curiosity to come and see this place.
I had the honour to know that great man, your father."
We went into the garden, where we found a gravel
walk, on each side of which was a row of trees, planted
by Dr. Young, which formed a handsome Gothick
arch ; Dr. Johnson called it a fine grove. 1 beheld it
with reverence.
We sat some time in the summer-house, on the out-
side wall of which was inscribed, " Ambidantes in horto
andiebant vocem Dei ;" and in reference to a brook by
which it is situated, " Vivendi recf^ qui prorogat horum^
&c. 1 said to Mr. Young, that 1 had been told his fa-
ther was cheerful. " Sir, (said he) he was too well-bred
a man not to be cheerful in company ; but he was
gloomy when alone. He never was cheerful after my
mother's death, and he had met with many disappoint-
ing nls." Dr. Johnson observed to me afterwards, "That
this was no favourable account of Dr. Young ; for it is
not becoming in a man to have so little acquiescence
in the ways of Providence, as to be gloomy because he
has not obtained as much preferment as he expected ;
nor to continue gloomy for the loss of his wife. Grief
has its time." The last part of this censure was theo-
DR. JOHNSON. 939
retically made. Practically, we know that grief for the i78i.
loss of a wife may be continued very long, in proportion JJ^
as affection has been sincere. No man knew this bet- 72.
ter than Dr. Johnson.
We went into the church, and looked at the monu-
ment erected by Mr. Young to his father. Mr. Young
mentioned an anecdote, that his father had received
several thousand pounds of subscription-money for his
" Universal Passion," but had lost it in the South-Sea. ^
Dr. Johnson thought this must be a mistake ; for he
had never seen a subscription-book.
Upon the road we talked of the uncertainty of profit
with which authours and booksellers engage in the
publication of literary works. Johnson. " My judge-
ment I have found is no certain rule as to the sale of a
book." BosWELL. "Pray, Sir, have you been much
plagued with authours sending you their works to
revise?" Johnson. "No, Sir; 1 have been thought
a sour surly fellow." Boswell. " Very lucky for you.
Sir, — in that respect." 1 must however observe, that
notwithstanding what he now said, which he no doubt
imagined at the time to be the fact, there was, perhaps,
no man who more frequently yielded to the solicita-
tions even of very obscure authours, to read their man-
uscripts, or more liberally assisted them with advice
and correction.
He found himself very happy at ^Squire Dilly's,
where there is always abundance of excellent fare, and
hearty welcome.
On Sunday, June 3, we all went to Southill church,
which is very near to Mr. Dilly's house. It being the
first Sunday of the month, the holy sacrament was ad-
ministered, and I staid to partake of it. When I came
afterwards into Dr. Johnson^s room, he said, " You did
right to stay and receive the communion ; I had not
thought of it." This seemed to imply that he did not
choose to approach the altar without a previous prepar-
ation, as to which good men entertain different opinions,
' [This assertion is disproved by a comparison of dates. The first four satires
of Young were published in 1725 ; The South-Sea scheme (which appears to be
meant,) was in 1720. M.]
S40 THE LIFE OF
1781. some holding that it is irreverent to partake of that or^
^J^ dinance without considerable premeditation ; others,
72, that whoever is a sincere Christian, and in a proper
frame of mind to discharge any other ritual duty of our
religion, may, without scruple, discharge this most sol-
emn one. A middle notion I believe to be the just
one, which is, that communicants need not think a
long train of preparatory forms indispensably necessary ;
but neither should they rashly and lightly venture upon
so aweful and mysterious an institution. Christians
must judge each for himself, what degree of retirement
and self-examination is necessary upon each occasion.
Being in a frame of mind which, 1 hope for the felicity
of human nature, many experience, — in fine weather,
— at the country house of a friend, — consoled and ele-
vated by pious exercises, — I expressed myself with an
unrestrained fervour to my " Guide, Philosopher, and
Friend ;" " My dear Sir, I would fain be a good man ;
and 1 am very good now. I fear God, and honour the
King, I wish to do no ill, and to be benevolent to all
mankind." He looked at me with a benignant indul-
gence ; but took occasion to give me wise and salutary
caution. " Do not. Sir, accustom yourself to trust to
impressions. There is a middle state of mind between
conviction and hypocrisy, of which many are conscious.
By trusting to impressions, a man may gradually come
to yield to them, and at length be subject to them, so
as not to be a free agent, or what is the same thing in
effect, to suppose that he is not a free agent. A man
who is in that state, should not be suffered to live ; if
he declares he cannot help acting in a particular way,
and is irresistibly impelled, there can be no confidence
in him, no more than in a tyger. But, Sir, no man be-
lieves himself to be impelled irresistibly ; we know that
he who says he believes it, lies. Favourable impres-
sions at particular moments, as to the state of our souls,
may be deceitful and dangerous. In general no man
can be sure of his acceptance with God ; some, indeed,
may have had it revealed to them. St. Paul, who
wrought miracles, may have had a miracle wrought on
himself, and may have obtained supernatural assurance
DR. JOHNSON. 241
of pardon, and mercy, and beatitude; yet St. Paul, ^781.
though he expresses strong hope, also expresses fear, ^^.
lest having preached to others, he himself should be a 72.
cast-away.^*
The opinion of a learned Bishop of our acquaintance,
as to there being merit in religious faith, being men-
tioned ; — Johnson. " Why, yes, Sir, the most licen-
tious man, vveie hell open before him, would not take
the most beautiful strumpet to his arms. We must, as
the Apostle says, live by faith, not by sight."
I talked to him of original sin,* in consequence of
the fall of man, and of the atonement made by our
Saviour. After some conversation, which he desired
me to remember, he, at my request, dictated to me as
follows :
" With respect to original sin, the enquiry is not
necessary ; for whatever is the cause of human corrup-
tion, men are evidently and confessedly so corrupt,
that all the laws of heaven and earth are insufficient to
restrain them from crimes.
" Whatever difficulty there may be in the conception
of vicarious punishments, it is an opinion which has
had possession of mankind in all ages. There is no na-
tion that has not used the practice of sacrifices. Who-
ever, therefore, denies the propriety of vicarious pun-
ishments, holds an opinion which the sentiments and
practice of mankind have contradicted, from the begin-
ning of the world. The great sacrifice for the sins of
mankind was offered at the death of the Messiah, who
is called in scripture, 'The Lamb of God, that taketh
away the sins of the world.' To judge of the reasona-
bleness of the scheme of redemption, it must be consid-
ered as necessary to the government of the universe,
that God should make known his perpetual and irre-
" Dr. Ogden, in his second sermon " On the Articles of the Christian Faith,"
with admirable acuteness thus addresses the opposers of that Doctrine, which ac-
counts for the confusion, sin, and misery, which we find in this life : " It would be
severe in God, you think, .to degrade us to such a sad state as this, for the otfence
of our first parents : but you can allow him to place us in it without any induce-
ment. Are our calamities lessened for not being ascribed to Adam ? If your con-
dition be unhappy, is it not still unhappy, whatever was the occasion ? with the
aggravation of this reflection, that if it was as good as it was at first designed^
there seems to be somewhat the less reason to look for its a^iendI^ent."
VOL. Ill, yi
242 THE LIFE OF
1781. concileable detestation of moral evil. He might indeed
^J^ punish, and punish only the offenders ; but as the end
72. of punishment is not revenge of crimes, but propaga-
tion of virtue, it was more becoming the Divine clem-
ency to find another manner of proceeding, less destruc-
tive to man, and at least equally powerful to promote
goodness. The end of punishment is to reclaim and
warn. That punishment will both reclaim and warn,
which shews evidently such abhorrence of sin in God,
as may deter us from it, or strike us with dread of ven-
geance when we have committed it. This is effected
by vicarious punishment. Nothing could more testify
the opposition between the nature of God and moral
evil, or more amply display his justice, to men and an-
gels, to all orders and successions of beings, than that
it was necessary for the highest and purest nature, even
for Divinity itself, to pacify the demands of vengeance,
by a painful death ; of which the natural effect will be,
that when justice is appeased, there is a proper place
for the exercise of mercy ; and that such propitiation
shall supply, in some degree, the imperfections of our
obedience, and the inefficacy of our repentance : for,
obedience and repentance, such as we can perform, are
still necessary. Our Saviour has told us, that he did
not come to destroy the law but to fulfil : to fulfil the
typical law, by the performance of what those types
had foreshewn ; and the moral law, by precepts of
greater purity and higher exaltation.^*
[Here he said, "God bless you with it." I acknowl-
edged myself much obliged to him ; but I begged that
he would go on as to the propitiation being the chief
object of our most holy faith. He then dictated this
one other paragraph.]
" The peculiar doctrine of Christianity is, that of an
universal sacrifice, and perpetual propitiation. Othe-r
prophets only proclaimed the will and the threatenings
of God. Christ satisfied his justice."
The Reverend Mr. Palmer,^ Fellow of Queen VCol-
* This unfortunate person, whose full name was Thomas Fysche Palmer, after-
wards went to Dundee, in Scotland, where be officiated as minister to a congrega-
DR. JOHNSON. 243
lege, Cambridge, dined with us. He expressed a wish i78i .
that a better provision were made for parish-clerks. '^^
Johnson. " Yes, Sir, a parish-clerk should be a man 72. '
who is able to make a will, or write a letter for any body
in the parish."
I mentioned Lord Monboddo's notion^ that the an-
cient Egyptians, with all their learning, and all their
arts, were not only black, but woolly-haired. Mr. Pal-
mer asked how did it appear upon examining the mum-
mies l Dr. Johnson approved of this test.
Although upon most occasions 1 never heard a more
strenuous advocate for the advantages of wealth, than
Dr. Johnson, he this day, I know not from what caprice,
took the other side. " I have not observed (said he)
that men of very large fortunes enjoy any thing extra-
ordinary that makes happiness. What has the Duke of
Bedford ? What has the Duke of Devonshire ? The only
great instance that I have ever known of the enjoyment
of wealth was, that of Jamaica Dawkins, who going to
visit Palmyra, and hearing that the way was infested
by robbers, hired a troop of Turkish horse to guard him."
Dr. Gibbons, the Dissenting minister, being men-
tioned, he said, " I took to Dr. Gibbons." And address-
ing himself to Mr. Charles Dilly, added, " I shall be
glad to see him. Tell him, if he'll call on me, and
dawdle over a dish of tea in an afternoon, I shall take
it kind."
tion of the sect who call themselves Unitarians, from a notion that they distinctively
worship ONE God, because they deny the mysterious doctrine of the Trinity.
They do not advert that the great body of the Christian Church in maintaining
that mystery, maintain also the Unity of the Godhead : the " Trinity in Unity !
—three persons and one God." The Church humbly adores the Divinity as
exhibited in the holy Scriptures. The Unitarian sect vainly presumes to compre-
hend and define the Almighty. Mr. Palmer having heated Ins mind with poUtical
speculations,became so much dissatisfied with our excellent Constitution, as to com-
pose, publish, and circulate writings, which were found to be so seditious and dan-
gerous, that upon being found guilty by a Jur)'^, the Court of Justiciary in Scot-
land sentenced him to transportation for fourteen vears. A loud clamour against
this sentence was made by some Members of both Houses of Parliament ; but
both Houses approved of it by a great majority ; and he v/as conveyed to the set-
tlement for convicts in New South Wales.
[Mr. T. F. Palmer was of Queen's College, in Cambridge, where he took the de-
gree of Master of Arts in 1772, and that of S. T. B. in 1781. He died on his rc>
turn from Botany Bay, in the year 1803. M.]
* Taken from Heredotus.
244 THE LIFE OF
178J. The Reverend Mr. Smith, Vicar of Southill, a very
^^ respectable man, with a very agreeable family, sent an
72. invitation to us to drink tea. 1 remarked Dr. Johnson^s
very respectful politeness. Though always fond of
changing the scene, he said, " We must have Mr. Bil-
ly's leave. We cannot go from your house, Sir, with-
out your permission." We all went, and were well sat-
isfied with our visit. I however remember nothing
particular, except a nice distinction which Dr. Johnson
made with respect to the power of memory, maintain-
ing that fogetfulness was a man's own fault. " To re-
member and to recollect (said he) are different things.
A man has not the power to recollect what is not in his
mind ; but when a thing is in his mind he may remem-
ber it."
The remark was occasioned by my leaning back on a
chair, which a little before I had perceived to be
broken, and pleading forgetfulness as an excuse. " Sir,
(said he,) its being broken was certainly in your mind."
When 1 observed that a housebreaker was in general
very timorous; — Johnson. "No wonder, Sir; he is
afraid of being shot getting iuto a house, or hanged
when he has got oul of it."
He told us, that he had in one day written six sheets
of a translation from the French ; adding, " 1 should be
glad to see it now. 1 wish that 1 had copies of all the
pamphlets written against me, as it is said Pope had.
Had 1 known that 1 should make so much noise in the
world, 1 should have been at pains to collect them. 1
believe there is hardly a day in which there is not
something about me in the news-papers."
On Monday, June 4, we all went to Luton-Hoe, to
see Lord Bute's magnificent seat, for which 1 had ob-
tained a ticket. As we entered the park, 1 talked in a
high style of my old friendship with Lord Mountstuart,
and said, " 1 shall probably be much at this place."
The sage, aware of human vicissitudes, gently checked
me : " Don't you be too sure of that." He made two
or three peculiar observations ; as when shewn the bo-
tanical garden, " Is not eteri/ garden a botanical gar-
den ?" When told that there was a shrubbery to the
DR. JOHNSON. 245
extent of several miles : " That is making a very foolish '781.
use of the ground ; a little of it is very well."' When ^J^
it was proposed that we should walk on the pleasure- 72.
ground ; *' Don't let us fatigue ourselves. Why should
we walk there ? Here's a fine tree, let's get to the top
of it." But upon the whole, he was very much pleas-
ed. He said, " This is one of the places 1 do not
regret having come to see. It is a very stately place,
indeed ; in the house magnificence is not sacrificed to
convenience, nor convenience to magnificence. The
library is very splendid ; the dignity of the rooms is
very great ; and the quantity of pictures is beyond ex-
pectation, beyond hope."
It happened without any previous concert, that we
visited the seat of Lord Bute upon the King's birth-
day ; we dined and drank his Majesty's health at an
inn, in the village of Luton.
In the evening I put him in mind of his promise to
favour me with a copy of his celebrated Letter to the
Earl of Chesterfield, and he was at last pleased to com-
ply with this earnest request, by dictating it to me
from his memory ; for he believed that he himself had
no copy. There was an animated glow in his counte-
nance while he thus recalled his high-minded indigna-
tion.
He laughed heartily at a ludicrous action in the
Court of Session, in which I was Counsel. The So-
ciety of Procurators, or Attornies, entitled to practise
in the inferiour courts at Edinburgh, had obtained a
royal charter, in which they had taken care to have
their ancient designation of Procurators changed into
that of Solicitors, from a notion, as they supposed,
that it was more genteel ; and this new title they dis-
played by a publick advertisement for a General Meet"
ing at their Hall.
It has been said, that the Scottish nation is not dis-
tinguished for humour ; and, indeed, what happened
on this occasion may in some degree justify the remark ;
for although this society had contrived to make them-
selves a very prominent object for the ridicule of such
as might stoop to it, the only joke to which it gave rise,
946 THE LIFE OP
1781. was the following paragraph, sent to the newspapei-
^g^ called " The Caledonian Mercury"
72, " A correspondent infornis us, that the Worshipful
Society of Chaldeans^ Cadies^ or Running-Stationers of
this city are resolved, in imitation, and encouraged by
the singular success of their brethern, of an equally
respectable Society, to apply for a Charter of their
Privileges, particularly of the sole privilege of pro-
curing, in the most extensive sense of the word, ex-
clusive of chairmen, porters, penny-post men, and
other inferiour ranks ; their brethren the R — y — l
S — LL — RS, alias P — c — rs, before the inferiour
Courts of this City, always excepted.
" Should the Worshipful Society be successful, they
are farther resolved not to be puffed up thereby, but to
demean themselves with more equanimity and decency
than their R-y-l, learned^ and very modest brethren
above mentioned have done, upon their late dignifica-
tion and exaltation."
A majority of the members of the Society prosecuted
Mr. Robertson, the publisher of the paper, for damages :
and the first judgement of the whole Court very wisely
dismissed the action : Solventur risu tabuke, tu missus
abibis. But a new trial or review was granted upon a
petition, according to the forms in Scotland. This pe-
tition I was engaged to answer, and Dr. Johnson, with
great alacrity furnished me this evening with what
follows :
" All injury is either of the person, the fortune, or
the fame. Now it is a certain thing, it is proverbially
known, that a jest breaks no bones. They never have
gained half-a-crown less in the whole profession since
this mischievous paragraph has appeared ; and, as to
their reputation, what is their reputation but an instru-
ment of getting money ? If, therefore, they have lost
no money, the question upon reputation may be an-
swered by a very old position, — De mitiimis non curat
Prcetor.
" Whether there was, or was not, an animus injuran-
di^ is not worth enquiring, if no injuria can be proved.
But the truth is, there was no animus injuriandi. It
DR. JOHNSON. 247
was only an animus irritandi,^ which, happening to be ^781.
exercised upon a getms irritabiie, produced unexpect- "^^^
ed violence of resentment. Their irritability arose 72. '
only from an opinion of their own importance, and
their delight in their new exaltation. What might
have been borne by a Procurator could not be borne
by a Solicitor. Your Lordships well know, that ho-
nores mutant mores. Titles and dignities play strongly
on the fancy. As a madman is apt to think himself
grown suddenly great, so he that grows suddenly great
is apt to borrow a little from the madman. To co-op-
erate with their resentment would be to promote their
phrenzy ; nor is it possible to guess to what they might
proceed, if to the new title of Solicitor, should be added
the elation of victory and triumph.
" We consider your Lordships as the protectors of
our rights, and the guardians of our virtues ; but
believe it not included in your high office, that you
should flatter our vices, or solace our vanity ; and, as
vanity only dictates this prosecution, it is humbly
hoped your Lordships will dismiss it.
" If every attempt, however light or ludicrous, to
lessen another's reputation, is to be punished by a
judicial sentence, what punishment can be sufficiently
severe for him who attempts to diminish the reputation
of the Supreme Court of Justice, by reclaiming upon a
cause already determined, without any change in the
state of the question ? Does it not imply in hopes
that the Judges will change their opinion ? Is not
uncertainty and inconstancy in the highest degree dis-
reputable to a Court ? Does it not suppose, that the
former judgement was temerarious or negligent ? Does
it not lessen the confidence of the publick \ Will it not
be said, that jus est aut incognitum^ aut vagum ? and
will not the consequence be drawn, misera est servifus /
Will not the rules of action be obscure ! Will not he
Avho knows himself wrong to-day, hope that the Courts
of Justice will think him right to-morrow ? Surely,
' Mr. Robertson altered this werd to jtiarn/i, he having found in Blackstofle
t bat to irritate is actionable.
i248 THE LIFE OF
1781. my Lords, these are attempts of dangerous tendenc}
^J^ which the Sohcitors, as men versed in the law, should
72. have foreseen and avoided. It was natural for an ig-
norant printer to appeal from the Lord Ordinary ; but
from lawyers, the descendants of lawyers, who have
practised for three hundred years, and have now raised
themselves to a higher denomination, it might be ex-
pected, that they should know the reverence due to a
judicial determination ; and, having been once dismiss-
ed, should sit down in silence."
I am ashamed to mention, that the Court, by a
plurality of voices, without having a single additional
circumstance before them, reversed their own judge-
ment, made a serious matter of this dull and foolish
joke, and adjudged Mr. Robertson to pay to the Soci-
ety five pounds (sterling money) and costs of suit. The
decision will seem strange to English lawyers.
On Tuesday, June 5, Johnson was to return to Lon-
don. He was very pleasant at breakfast ; 1 mentioned
a friend of mine having resolved never to marry a pretty
woman. Johnson. " Sir, it is a very foolish resolu-
tion to resolve not to marry a pretty woman. Beauty
is of itself very estimable. No, Sir, 1 would prefer a
pretty woman, unless there are objections to her. A
pretty woman may be foolish ; a pretty woman may
be wicked ; a pretty woman may not like me. But
there is no such danger in marrying a pretty woman as
is apprehended ; she will not be persecuted if she does
not invite persecution. A pretty woman, if she has a
mind to be wicked, can find a readier way than an-
other ; and that is all."
1 accompanied him in Mr. Dilly's chaise to ShefFord,
where talking of Lord Bute's never going to Scotland,
he said, " As an Englishman, 1 should wish all the
Scotch gentlemen should be educated in England ;
Scotland would become a province ; they would spend
all their rents in England." This is a subject of much
consequence, and much delicacy. The advantage of
an English education is unquestionably very great to
Scotch gentlemen of talents and ambition ; and regular
visits to Scotland, and perhaps other means, might be
I
DR. JOHNSON. 249
effectually used to prevent them from being totally ^7bi.
estranged from their native country, any more than a ^^^
Cumberland or Northumberland gentleman, who has 72. *
been educated in the South of England. 1 own, in-
deed, that it is no small misfortune for Scotch gentle-
men, who have neither talents nor ambition, to be
educated in England, where they may be perhaps dis-
tinguished only by a nick-name, lavish their fortune in
giving expensive entertainments to those who laugh at
them, and saunter about as mere idle insignificant
hangers-on even upon the foolish great ; when if they
had been judiciously brought up at home, they might
have been comfortable and creditable members of
society.
At ShefFord I had another affectionate parting from
my reverend friend, who was taken up by the Bedford
coach and carried to the metropolis. 1 went with
Messieurs Dilly, to see some friends at Bedford ; dined
with the officers of the militia of the county, and next
day proceeded on my journey.
" TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" How welcome your account of yourself and
your invitation to your new house was to me, 1 need
not tell you, who consider our friendship not only as
formed by choice, but as matured by time. We have
been now long enough acquainted to have many im-
ages in common, and therefore to have a source of con-
versation which neither the learning nor the wit of a
new companion can supply.
" My Lives are now published ; and if you will tell
me whither 1 shall send them, that they may come to
you, 1 will take care that you shall not be without
them.
" You will, perhaps, be glad to hear, that Mrs.
Thrale is disincumbered of her brewhouse ; and that
it seemed to the purchaser so far from an evil, that he
was content to give for it an hundred and thirty-five
thousand pounds. Is the nation ruined ?
VOL. III. 39
250 THE LIFE OF
1781. <' Please to make my respectful compliments to
^g^ Lady Rothes, and keep me in the memory of all the
72. little dear family, particularly Mrs. Jane.
" 1 am, Sir,
" Your affectionate humble servant,
" Bolt'coari^ June. 16, 1781. " Sam. Johnson."
Johnson's charity to the poor was uniform and ex-
tensive, both from inclination and principle. He not
only bestowed liberally out of his own purse, but what
is more difficult as well as rare, would beg from others,
^ when he had proper objects in view. This he did ju-
diciously as well as humanely. Mr. Philip Metcalfe,
tells me, that when he has asked him for some money
for p' rsoiis in distress, and Mr. Metcalfe has offered
what Johnson thought too much, he insisted on taking
less, saying " No, no. Sir ; we must not pamper them."
1 am indebted to Mr. Malone, one of Sir Joshua
Reynolds's executors, for the following note, which was
found among his papers after his death, and which, we
may presume, his unaffected modesty prevented him
from communicating to me with the other letters from
Dr. Johnson with which he was pleased to furnish me.
However slight in itself, as it does honour to that illus-
trious painter, and most amiable man, I am happy to
introduce it.
" TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
" DEAR SIR,
" It was not before yesterday that T received your
splendid benefaction. To a hand so liberal in distrib-
uting, 1 hope nobody will envy the power of acquiring.
" 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your obliged and most humble servant,
" June 23, 1781. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THOMAS ASTLE, ESQ.
" SIR,
"I AM ashamed that you have been forced to call
so often for your books, but it has been by no fault on
DR. JOHNSON. '251
either side. They have never been out of my hands, '/^i.
nor have 1 ever been at home without seeing you ; for ^,'.^
to see a man so skilful in the antiquities of my country, 72.
is an opportunity of improvement not wiUingly to be
missed.
" Your notes on Alfred^ appear to me very judicious
and accurate, but they are too few. Many things fa-
mihar to you, are unknown to me, and to most others ;
and you must not think too favourably of your readers ;
by supposing them knowing, you will leave them igno-
rant. Measure of land, and value of money, it is of
great importance to state with care. Had the Saxons
any gold coin ?
" I have much curiosity after the manners and trans-
actions of the middle ages, but have wanted either
diligence or opportunity, or both. You, Sir, have gnat
opportunities, and 1 wish you both diligence and
success.
" 1 am, Sir, &c.
" Ju/i/ 17, 17s 1. " Sam. Johnson."
The following curious anecdote 1 insert in Dr. Bur-
ney's own words. " Dr. Burney related to Dr. John-
son the partiality which his writings had excited in a
friend of Dr. Burney's, the late Mr. Bewley, well
known in Norfolk by the name of the Philosopher of
Massinorham : who, from the Ramblers and Plan of
his Dictionary, and long before the authour's fame was
established by the Dictionary itself, or any other work,
had conceived such a reverence for him, that he earn-
estly begged Dr. Burney to give him the cover of his
first letter he had received from him, as a relick of so
estimable a writer. This was in 17^>5. In 1760,
when Dr. Burney visited Dr. Johnson at the Temple
in London, where he had then Chambers, he happ^^ned
to arrive there before he was up ; and being shewn
into the room where he was to breakfast, finding him-
self alone, he examined the contents of the apartment,
^ The Will of King Alfred, alluded to iu this letter, from the originkl Saxon, in
the library of Mr. Astle, has been printed at the expence of the University of
Oxford.
252 THE LIFE OF
1/81. to try whether he could undiscovered steal any thing
Mt^. ^^ ^^"^ ^^ '^'s friend Bewley, as another relick of the
72. admirable Dr. Johnson. But finding nothing better to
his purpose, he cut some bristles off his hearth-broom,
and enclosed them in a letter to his country enthusiast,
who received them with due reverence. The Doctor
was so sensible of the honour done him by a man of
genius and science, to whom he was an utter stranger,
that he said to Dr. Burney, ' Sir, there is no man pos-
sessed of the smallest portion of modesty, but must be
fl ittered with the admiration of such a man. I'll give
him a set of my Lives, if he will do me the honour to
accept of them.' In this he kept his word ; and Dr.
Burney had not only the pleasure of gratifying his
friend with a present more worthy of his acceptance
than the segment from the hearth-broom, but soon after
introducing him to Dr. Johnson himself in Bolt-court,
■with whom he had the satisfaction of conversing a con-
siderable time, not a fortnight before his death ; which
happened in St. Martin's-street, during his visit to Dr.
Burney, in the house where the great Sir Isaac Newton
had lived and died before."
In one of his little memorandum books is the follow-
ing minute ;
'■ i\ugust 9, 3 P. M. aetat. 72, in the summer-house
at Streatham.
"After innumerable resolutions formed and neglect-
ed, 1 have retired hither, to plan a life of greater dili-
gence, in hope that 1 may yet be useful, and be daily
better prepared to appear before my Oeator and my
Judge, from whose infinite mercy 1 humbly call for as*
sistance and support.
"• J\ly purpose is,
" To pass eight hours every day in some serious em-
ployment.
" Having prayed, 1 purpose to employ the next six
weeks upon the Italian language, for my settled study."
JJow venerably pious does he appear in these mo-
ments of solitude, and how spirited are his resolutions
for the improvement of his mind, even in elegant lite-
DR. JOHNSON. 26S
rature, at a very advanced period of life, and when af- ^782.
flicted with many complaints. Stat!
In autumn he* went to Oxford, Birmingham, Lich- 73.*
field, and Ashbourne, for which very good reasons
might be given in the conjectural yet positive manner
of writers, who are proud to account for every event
which they relate. He himself, however, says, " The
motives of my journey I hardly know ; 1 omitted it
last year, and am not willing to miss it again. "9 But
some good considerations arise, amongst which is the
kindly recollection of Mr. Hector, surgeon of Birming-
ham. " Hector is likewise an old friend, the only com-
panion of my childhood that passed through the school
with me. We have always loved one another ; perhaps
we may be made better by some serious conversation,
of which however 1 have no distinct hope."
He says too, " At Lichfield, my native place, I hope
to shew a good example by frequent attendance on pub-
lick worship."
My correspondence with him during the rest of this
year was, I know not why, very scanty, and all on my
side. I wrote him one letter to introduce Mr. Sinclair
(now Sir John) the member for Caithness, to his ac-
quaintance ; and informed him in another, that my
wife had again been affected with alarming symptoms of
illness.
In 1782, his complaints increased, and the history of
his life this year, is little more than a mournful recital
of the variations of his illness, in the midst of which,
however, it will appear from his letters, that the powers
of his mind were in no degree impaired.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
*' I SIT down to answer your letter on the same
day in which I received it, and am pleased that my first
letter of the year is to you. No man ought to be at
ease while he knows himself in the wrong ; and Ihave
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 201.
254 THE LIFE OF
1782. not satisfied myself with my long silence. The letter
jEi^^ relating to Mr. Sinclair however, was, 1 believe, never
73. brought.
" My health has been tottering this last year : and I
can give no very laudable account of my time. I aln
always hoping to do better than 1 have ever hitherto
done.
" My journey to Ashbourne and Staffordshire was
not pheasant ; for what enjoyment has a sick man visit-
ing the sick ? — Shall we ever have another frolick like
our journey to the Hebrides ?
" I hope that dear Mrs. Boswell will surmount her
complaints ; in losing her you will lose your anchor,
and be tost, without stability, by the waves of life.'
I wish both her and you very many years, and very
happy.
" For some months past T have been so withdrawn
from the world, that I can send you nothing particular.
All your friends, however, are well, and will be glad of
your return to London. 1 am, dear Sir,
" Yours most affectionately,
*■'- January 5, 17B2. " Sam. Johnson.^*
At a time when he was less able than he had once
been to sustain a shock, he was suddenly deprived of
Mr. Levet, which event he thus communicated to Dr.
Lawrence.
"sir,
" Our old friend, Mr. Levet, who was last night
eminently cheerful, died this morning. The man who
lay in the same room, hf^aring an uncommon noise, got
up and tried to make him speak, but without effect.
He then called Mr. Holder, the apothecary, who,
though when he came he thought him dead, opened a
vein, but could draw no blood. So has ended the long
life of a very useful and very blameless man. 1 am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Jan. 17, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
' The truth of this has been proved by sad experience.
(Mrs. Boswell died June 4, 1789. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 255
In one of his memorandum-books in my possession, is ^782.
the following entry : January 20, Sunday. Robert J^^
Levet was buried in the church-yard of Bridewell, be- 73.
tween one and two in the afternoon. He died on
Thursday 17, about seven in the morning, by an instan-
taneous death. He was an old and faithful friend ; I
have known him from about 46. Conimendavi. May
God have mercy on him. May he have mercy on me.^'
Such was Johnson's affectionate regard for Levet, ^
that he honoured his memory with the following paliiet-
ick verses ;
" Condemned to Hope's delusive mine,
" As on we toil from day to day,
" By sudden blast or slow decline
" Our social comforts drop away.
" Well try'd through many a varying year,
" See Levet to the grave descend ;
" Officious, innocent, sincere,
" Of every friendless name the friend.
" Yet still he fills Affection's eye,
" Obscurely wise, and coarsely kind,
" Nor, letter'd arrogance, 3 deny
" Thy praise to merit unrefin'd.
" When fainting Nature calPd for aid,
" And hov'ring Death prepared the blovr,
" His vigorous remedy display'd
" The power of art without the show.
" In Misery's darkest caverns known,
" His ready help was ever nigh,
" Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,
" And lonely Want retir'd to die.-^
2 See an account of him in " The Gentleman's Magazine," Feb. 1 785.
3 In both editions of Sir John Hawkins's Life of Dr. Johnson, *♦ letter'd Ignorance^'
is printed.
•• Johnson repeated this line to me thus :
" And Labour steals an hour to die."
But he afterwards altered it to the present reading.
QSG THE LIFE OF
1782. " No summons mock'd by chill delay^
£ut " ^^ P^^^y gains disdain'd by pride ;
73, * " The modest wants of every day
" The toil of every day supply^d.
" His virtues walkM their narrow round,
" Nor made a pause, nor left a void ;
" And sure the eternal Master found
" His single talent well employed.
'%The busy day, the peaceful night,
" Unfelt, uncounted, glided by ;
" His frame was firm, his powers were bright,
" Though now his eightieth year was nigh.
" Then, with no throbs of fiery pain,
" No cold gradations of decay,
" Death broke at once the vital chain,
" And freed his soul the nearest way."
In one of Johnson's registers of this year, there
occurs the following curious [)assage : " Jan. 20. The
Ministry is dissolved. I prayed with Francis, and gave
thanks."' It has been the subject of discussion,
whether there are two distinct particulars mentioned
here ? Or that we are to understand the giving of
thanks to be in consequence of the dissolution of the
Ministry ? In support of the last of these conjectures
may be urged his mean opinion of that Ministry, which
has frequently appeared in the course of this work ;
and it is strongly confirmed by what he said on the
subject to Mr. Seward : — " I am glad the ministry is
removed. Such a bunch of imbecility never disgraced
a country. If they sent a messenger into the City to
take up a printer, the messenger vA^as taken up instead
of the printer, and committed by the sitting Alderman.
If they sent one army to the relief of another, the first
army was defeated and taken before the second arrived.
I will not say that what they did was always wrong ;
but it was always done at a wrong time."
'■Prayers and Meditations, p. 209.
DR. JOHNSON. 257
1782.
" TO MRS. STRAHAN. ^MtaX.
73.
" DEAR MADAM,
" Mrs. Williams shewed me your kind letter.
This Httle habitation is now but a melancholy place^
clouded with the gloom of disease and death. Of the
four inmates, one has been suddenly snatched away ;
two are oppressed by very afflictive and dangerous ill-
ness ; and 1 tried yesterday to gain some relief by a
third bleeding, from a disorder which has for some time
distressed me, and 1 think myself to-day much better.
" 1 am glad, dear Madam, to hear that you are so
far recovered as to go to Bath. Let me once more
entreat you to stay till your health is not only obtain-
ed, but confirmed. Your fortune is such as that no
moderate expences deserves your care ; and you have
a husband, who, I believe, does not regard it. Stay,
therefore, till you are quite well. 1 am, for my part,
very much deserted ; but complaint is useless. 1 hope
God will bless you, and I desire you to form the same
wish for me. 1 am, dear Madam,
" Your most humble servant,
" Feb. 4, 1782. " Sam. Johnson.^'
*' to edmond malone, esq.
" SIR,
" I HAVE for many weeks been so much out of
•rder, that I have gone out only in a coach to Mrs.
Thrale's, where 1 can use all the freedom that sickness
requires. Do not, therefore, take it amiss, that I am
not with you and Dr. Farmer. 1 hope hereafter to see
you often. 1 am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Feb. 27, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THE SAME.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HOPE I grow better, and shall soon be able to
enjoy the kindness of my friends. 1 think this wild
VOL. III. 33
-236
THE LIFE OP
^782. adherence to Chatterton'^ more unaccountable than
iEtat. ^^^ obstinate defence of Ossian, In Ossian there is a
73. national pride, which may be forgiven, though it cannot
be applauded. In Chatterton there is nothing but the
resolution to say again what has once been said. I am.
Sir,
" Your humble servant,
" March 2, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
These short letters shew the regard which Dr. John-
son entertained for Mr. Malone, who the more he is
known is the more highly valued. It is much to be
regretted that Johnson was prevented from sharing the
elegant hospitality of that gentleman's table, at which
he would in every respect have been fully gratified.
Mr. Malone, who has so ably succeeded him as an Ed-
itor of Shakspeare, has, in his Preface, done great and
just honour to Johnson's memory.
" TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" DEAR MADAM,
" 1 WENT away from Lichfield ill, and have had a
troublesome time with my breath ; for some weeks I
have been disordered by a cold, of which I could not
get the violence abated, till I had been let blood three
times. I have not, however, been so bad but that I
could have written, and am sorry that I neglected it.
" My dwelling is but melancholy ; both Williams,
and Desmoulins, and myself, are very sickly : Frank is
not well ; and poor Levet died in his bed the other
' [This Note was in answer to one which accompanied one of the earliest pam-
phlets on the subject of Chatterton'sforjifery: entitled ''Cursory Observations on the
Poems attributed to Thomas Rowley," &c. Mr. Thomas Warton's very able " In-
quiry" appeared about three months afterwards : and Mr. Tyrwhitt's admirable
" Vindication of his Appendix " in the summer of the same vear, left the believers
in his daring imposture nothing but " the resolution to say again what had been
said before " Daring, however, as this fiction was, and wild as was the adherence
to Chatterton, both were greatly exceeded in 1795 and the following year, by a
still more audacious imposture, and the pertinacity of one of its adherents, who
has immortalized his name by publishing a bulky volume, of which the direct and
manifest object was, to prove the authenticity of certain papers attributed to Shak-
speare, after the fabricator of the spurious trash had publickly acknowledged the
imposture ! M.]
DR. JOHNSON. !3o9
day, by a sudden stroke ; I suppose not one minute i782.
passed between health and death ; so uncertain are ^"T
human things. 73_ *
" Such is the appearance of the world about me ; 1
hope your scenes are more cheerful. But whatever
befalls us, though it is wise to be serious, it is useless
and foolish, and perhaps sinful, to be gloomy. Let us,
therefore, keep ourselves as easy as we can ; though
the loss of friends will be felt, and poor Levet had
been a faithful adherent for thirty years.
" Forgive me, my dear love, the omission of writing;
I hope to mend that and my other faults. Let me
have your prayers.
" Make my compliments to Mrs. Cobb, and Miss
Adey, and Mr. Pearson, and the whole company of
my friends. 1 am, my dear,
" Your most humble servant,
" London^ March 2, 1782. " Sam. Johnson.^^
" to the same.
" dear madam,
" My last was but a dull letter, and I know not
that this will be much more cheerful ; 1 am, however,
willing to write, because you are desirous to hear
from me.
" My disorder has now begun its ninth week, for it
is not yet over. 1 was last Thursday blooded for the
fourth time, and have since found myself much reliev-
ed, but 1 am very tender and easily hurt ; so that since
we parted I have had but little comfort, but I hope
that the spring will recover me ; and that in the sum-
mer I shall see Lichfield again, for 1 will not delay my
visit another year to the end of autumn.
" I have, by advertising, found poor Mr. Levet*s
brothers in Yorkshire, who will take the little he has
left : it is but little, yet it will be welcome, for 1 beUeve
they are of very low condition.
" To be sick, and to see nothing but sickness and
death, is but a gloomy state ; but 1 hope better times,
even in this world, will come, and whatever this world
200 THE LIFE OF
1782. may withhold or give, we shall be happy in a better
2J^ state. Pray for me, my dear Lucy.
73. " Make my compliments to Mrs. Cobb, and Miss
Adey, and my old friend, Hetty Bailey, and to all the
Lichfield ladies. 1 am, dear Madam,
" Yours affectionately,
'^ Bolt-court^ Fleet-street, " Sam. Johnson."
March 19, 1782.
On the day on which this letter was written, he thus
feelingly mentions his respected friend, and physician,
Dr. Lawrence : — " Poor Lawrence has almost lost the
sense of hearing ; and 1 have lost the conversation of a
learned, intelligent, and communicative companion,
and a friend whom long familiarity has much endear-
ed. Lawrence is one of the best men whom 1 have
known. — ' Nostrum omnium miserere Deus."^
It was Dr. Johnson's custom when he wrote to Dr.
Lawrence concerning his own health, to use the Latin
language. 1 have been favoured by Miss Lawrence
with one of these letters as a specimen :
T. Lawjiencio, Medico, S.
" Novum Jrigus, nova tussis, nova spirandi d'lffi^
cultas, novam sanguinis missionem suadent, quam tamen
te inconsulto nolim fieri. Ad te venire vix possum, nee
est cur ad me venias. Licere vel non iicere ime verba
dicendum est ; ccetera mild et Holdero * religueris. Si
per te licet, imperatur nuncio Holderum ad me deducere,
" Maiis Calendis, 1782.
" Postqudm tu disciesseris, qub me vertam ?"^
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 207.
8 Mr. Holder, in the Strand, Dr. Johnson's apothecary.
'' Soon after the above letter, Dr. Lawrence left London, but not before the
palsy had made so great a progress as to render him unable to write for himself.
The following are extracts from letters addressed by Dr. Johnson to one of his
daughters :
" You will easily believe with what gladness I read that you had heard once
again that voice to which we have all so often delighted to attend. May you
often hear it. If we had his mind, and his tongue, we could spare the rest
" 1 am not vigorous, but much better than when dear Dr. Lawrence held my
pulse the last time. Be so kind as to let me know, from One little interval to an-
other, the state of his body. I am pleased that he remembers me, and hope that
it never can be possible for me to forget him. July 22, 1782.
DR. JOHNSON. 261
1782.
Etat
73.
" TO CAPTAIN LANGTON,' IN ROCHESTER. Jtat.
" DEAR SIR,
" It is now long since we saw one another ; and,
whatever has been the reason, neither you have written
to me, nor 1 to you. To let friendship die away by
neghgence and silence, is certainly not wise. It is
voluntarily to throw away one of the greatest comforts
of this weary pilgrimage, of which when it is, as it
must be taken finally away, he that travels on alone,
will wonder how his esteem could be so little. Do
not forget me ; you see that 1 do not forget you. It
is pleasing in the silence of sohtude to think, that there
is one at least, however distant, of whose benevolence
there is little doubt, and whom there is yet hope of
seeing again.
" Of my life, from the time we parted, the history
is mournful. The spring of last year deprived me of
Thrale, a man whose eye for fifteen years had scarcely
been turned upon me but with respect or tenderness ;
for such another friend, the general course of human
things will not suflfer man to hope. 1 passed the sum-
mer at Streatham, but there was no Thrale ; and hav-
ing idled away the summer with a weakly body and
neglected mind, I made a journey to Staflfordshire on
the edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was
sickly, and found the friends sickly whom I went to
" I am much delighted even with the small advances which dear Dr. Lawrence
inakes towards recovery. If we could have again but his mind, and his tongue in
his mind, and his right hand, we should not much lament the rest. I should not
despair of helping the swelled hand by electricity, if it were frequently and dili-
gently supplied.
" Let me know from time to time whatever happens ; and I hope I need not
tell you, how much I am interested in every change. Aug. 26, 1782."
" Though the account with which you favoured me in your last letter could
not give me the pleasure that I wished, yet I was glad to receive it ; for my affec-
tion to my dear friend makes me desirous of knowing his state, whatever it be. I
beg, therefore, that you continue to let me know, from time to time, all that you
observe.
" Many fits of severe illness have, for about three months past, forced my kind
physician often upon my mind. I am now better ; and hope gratitude, as well as
distress, can be a motive to remembrance. Bolt-court, Fleet-street, Feb. 4, 178,3."
' Mr. Langton being at this time on duty at Rochester, he is addressed by hij
Inilitary title.
26*2 DR. JOHNSON.
1782. see. After a sorrowful sojourn, I returned to a habita-
£tat. ^^^^ possessed for the present by two sick women,
73. where my dear old friend, Mr. Levet, to whom, as he
used to tell me, 1 owe your acquaintance, died a few
weeks ago, suddenly in his bed ; there passed not, 1 be-
lieve, a minute between health and death. At night,
as at Mrs. Thrale's, 1 was musing in my chamber, I
thought with uncommon earnestness, that however I
might alter my mode of life, or whithersoever 1 might
remove, 1 would endeavour to retain Levet about me ;
in the morning my servant brought me word that Levet
tvas called to another state, a state for which, 1 think,
he was not unprepared, for he was very useful to the
poor. How much soever I valued him, 1 now wish
that I had valued him more.^
" I have myself been ill more than eight weeks of a
disorder, from which at the expence of about fifty
ounces of blood, I hope 1 am now recovering.
" You, dear Sir, have, 1 hope, a more cheerful scene ;
you see George fond of his book, and the pretty misses
airy and lively, with my own little Jenny equal to the
best: and in whatever can contribute to your quiet or
pleasure, you have Lady Rothes ready toc«icur. May
whatever you enjoy of good be increased, and whatever
you suffer of evil be diminished. 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your humble servant,
^'■Bolt-Court, Fleet-street, " Sam. Johnson."
March 20, 17H2.
" TO MR. HECTOR, IN BIRMINGHAM. ^
" DEAR SIR,
" I HOPE I do not very grossly flatter myself to im-
agine that you and dear Mrs. Careless* will be glad to
^ Johnson has here expressed a sentiment similar to that contained in one of
SJienstone's stanzas, to which in his life of tliat poet he has given high praise :
" I prized every hour that went by,
" Beyond all that had pleas'd me before ;
" But now they are gone and I sigh,
" And I grieve that I prized them no more." J. B.— O.]
' A part of this letter having been torn ofF, I have, from the evident meaning'
supplied a few words and half words at the ends and beginning of lines.
" See Vol. II. p. 264.
DR. JOHNSON. 263
hear some account of me. 1 performed the journey to iv82.
London with very little inconvenience, and came safe ^J^
to my habitation, where I found nothing but il! health, 73.
and, of consequence, very little cheerfulness. I then
went to visit a little way into the country, where I got
a complaint by a cold which has hung eight weeks
upon me, and from which 1 am, at the expence of fifty
ounces of blood, not yet free. I am afraid 1 must once
more owe my recovery to warm weather, which seems
to make no advances towards us.
" Such is my health, which will, I hope, soon grow
better. In other respects i have no reason to complain.
I know not that i have written any thing more gener-
ally commended than the Lives of the Poets ; and have
found the world willing enough to caress me, if ray
health had invited me to be in much company ; but
this season I have been almost wholly employed in
nursing myself.
" When summer comes I hope to see you again, and
will not put off my visit to the end of the year. 1 have
lived so long in London, that 1 did not remember the
difference of seasons.
*' Your health, when I saw you, was much improved.
You will be prudent enough not to put it in danger.
I hope, when we meet again, we shall congratulate
each other upon fair prospects of longer life ; though
what are the pleasures of the longest life, when placed
in comparison with a happy death ? I am, dear Sir,
" Yours most affectionately,
" London, March 21, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
TO THE SAME,
[Without a date, but supposed to be
DEAR SIR, about this time.]
*' That you and dear Mrs. Careless should have
care or curiosity about my health, gives me that pleas-
ure which every man feels from finding himself not
forgotten. In age we feel again that love of our native
place and our early friends, which in the bustle or
amusements of middle life, were overborne and sus-
pended. You and 1 should now naturally cling to one
264 THE LIFE OF
1782. another : we have outlived most of those who could
^J^ pretend to rival us in each other's kindness. In our
73. walk through life we have dropped our companions,
and are now to pick up such as chance may off^^r us,
or to travel on alone. You, indeed, have a sister, with
whom you can divide the day : 1 have no natural friend
left ; but Providence has been pleased to preserve me
from neglect ; I have not wanted su«:h alleviations of
life as friendship could supply. My health has been,
from my twentieth year, such as has seldom afforded
me a single day of ease ; but it is at least not worse :
and I sometimes make myself believe that it is better.
My disorders are, however, still sufficiently oppressive.
" 1 think of seeing Staffordshire again this autumn,
and intend to find my way through Birmingham, where
I hope to see you and dear Mrs. Careless well. 1 am,
Sir,
" Your affectionate friend,
" Sam. Johnson."
I wrote to him at different dates ; regretted that I
could not come to London this spring, but hoped we
should meet somewhere in the summer; mentioned the
state of my affairs, and suggested hopes of some prefer-
ment ; informed him, that as " f he Beauties of John-
son," had been published in London, some obsfure
scribbler had published at Edinburgh, what he called
*' The Deformities of Johnson."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR, '^
" The pleasure which we used to receive from
each other on Good- Friday and Laster-day, we must f)e
this year content to miss. Let us, however, pray for
each other, and hope to see one another yet from time
to time with mutual delight. My disorder has been a
cold, which impeded the organs of respiration, and kept
me many weeks in a state of great uneasiness ; but by
repeated phlebotomy it is now relieved ; and next to
the recovery of Mrs. Boswell, 1 flatter myself, that you
will rejoice at mine.
I
DR. JOHNSON. S65
" What we shall do in the summer, it is yet too early *782.
to consider. You want to know what you shall do ^^^
now ; 1 do not think this time of bustle and confusion ^ 73. *
like to produce any advantage to you. Every man has
those to reward and gratify who have contributed to
his advancement. To come hither with such expecta-
tions at the expence of borrowed money, which, 1 find,
you know not where to borrow, can hardly be consid-
ered prudent. 1 am sorry to find, what your solicita-
tions seem to imply, that you have already gone the
whole length of your credit. This is to set the quiet
of your whole life at hazard. If you anticipate your in-
heritance, you can at last inherit nothing ; all that you
receive must pay for the past. You must get a place,
or pine in penury, with the empty name of a great
estate. Poverty, my dear friend, is so great an evil,
and pregnant with so much temptation, and so much
misery, that 1 cannot but earnestly enjoin you to avoid
it. Live on what you have ; live if you can on less ;
do not borrow either for vanity or pleasure ; the vanity
will end in shame, and the pleasure in regret : stay there-
fore at home, till you have saved money for your jour-
ney hither.
" The Beauties of Johnson' are said to have got
money to the collector ; if the ' Deformities' have the
same success, I shall be still a more extensive benefactor.
" Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, who is I
hope reconciled to me ; and to the young people whom
I never have offended.
" You never told me the success of your plea against
the Solicitors. 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your most affectionate,
" London, March 28, 1782. " Sam. Johnson,"
Notwithstanding his afflicted state of body and mind
this year, the following correspondence affords a proof
not only of his benevolence and conscientious readiness
to relieve a good man from errour, but by hiscloathing
one of the sentiments in his " Rambler" in different
^ [On the preceding day the Ministry had been changed, M.]
VOL. III. 34
266
THE LIFE OF
•782. language, not inferiour to that of the original, shews his
jEtat. extraordinary command of clear and forcible expression.
73. A clergyman at Bath wrote to him, that in " The
Morning Chronicle,^' a passage in " I'he Beauties of
Johnson,^' article Death, had been pointed out as sup-
posed by some readers to recommend suicide, the words
being, " To die is the fate of man ; but to die with
lingering anguish is generally his folly ;" and, respect-
fully suggesting to him, that such an erroneous notion
of any sentence in the writings of an acknowledged
friend of religion and virtue, should not pass uncon-
tradicted.
Johnson thus answered the clergyman's letter :
TO THE REVEREND MR. , AT BATH.
" SIR,
" Being now in the country in a state of recovery,
as 1 hope, from a very oppressive disorder, I cannot neg-
lect the acknowledgement of your Christian letter. The
book called " The Beauties of Johnson," is the produc-
tion of I know not whom ; I never saw it but by casual
inspection, and considered myself as utterly disengaged
from its consequences. Of the passage you mention, I
remember some notice in some paper ; but knowing
that it must be misrepresented, 1 thought of it no more,
nor do I know where to find it in my own books. I
am accustomed to think little of newspapers ; but an
opinion so weighty and serious as yours has determined
me to do, what I should without your seasonable ad-
monition, have omitted : and I will'direct my thought
to be shewn in its true state. ^ If 1 could find the pas-
* What follows, appeared in the Morning Ohroniclc of May 29, 1782. — " A cor-
respondent having mentioned, in the Morning Chronicle of IJecember 12, the last
clause of the following paragraph, as seeming to favour suicide ; we are requested
to print the whole passage, that its true meaning may appear, which is not to re-
commend suicide but exercise.
" Exercise cannot secure us from that dissolution to which we are decreed ; but
while the soul and bodv continue united, it can make the association pleasing, and
give probable hopes that they shall be disjoined by an easy separation. It was a
principle among the anticnts, that acute diseases are from Heaven, and chronical
from ourselves ; the dart of death, indeed, falls from Heaven, but we poison it by
our own misconduct ; to die is the fate of man ; but to die witii lingering anguish
is generally lus folly."
DR. JOHNSON. '^QJ
sage I would direct you to it. I suppose the tenour is ^7B2.
this : — * Acute diseases are the immediate and inevitable ^CX
strokes of Heaven ; but of them the pain is short, and 73.
the conclusion speedy ; chronical disorders, by which
we are suspended in tedious torture between life and
death, are commonly the effect of our own misconduct
and intemperance. To die, &c,' — This, Sir, you see is
all true and all blameless. 1 hope some time in the
next week, to have all rectified. My health has been
lately much shaken ; if you favour me with any answer,
it will be a comfort to me to know that 1 have your
prayers.
" I am, &c.
" May 15, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
This letter, as might be expected, had its full effect,
and the clergyman ackowledged it in grateful and pious
terms.'
The following letters require no extracts from mine
to introduce them.
" to james boswell, esq.
"dear sir,
" The earnestness and tenderness of your letter
is such, that 1 cannot think myself shewing it more
respect than it claims by sitting down to answer it the
day on which 1 received it.
" This year has afflicted me with a very irksome and
severe disorder. My respiration has been much im-
peded, and much blood has been taken away. I am
now harassed by a cartarrhous cough, from which my
purpose is to seek relief by change of air ; and I am,
therefore, preparing to go to Oxford.
" Whether 1 did right in dissuading you from com-
ing to London this spring, 1 will not determine. You
have not lost much by missing my company ; 1 have
scarcely been well for a single week. 1 might have
received comfort from your kindness ; but you would
' The Correspondence may be seen at length in the Gentleman's Magazine,
Feb. 1786.
268 THE LIFE OP
J 782. have seen me afflicted, and, perhaps, found me peevish.
^aT VVhatever might have been your pleasure or mine, I
73. know not how I could have honestly advised you to
come hither with borrowed money. Do not accustom
yourself to consider debt only as an inconvenience ; you
will find it a calamity. Poverty takes away so many
means of doing good, and produces so much inability
to resist evil, both natural and moral, that it is by all
virtuous means to be avoided. Consider a man whose
fortune is very narrow ; whatever be his rank by birth,
or whatever his reputation by intellectual excellence,
what can he do ? or what evil can he prevent ? That
he cannot help the needy is evident ; he has nothing
to spare. But, perhaps, his advice or admonition may
be useful. His poverty will destroy his influence :
many more can find that he is poor, than that he is
wise ; and few will reverence the understanding that
is of so little advantage to its owner. 1 say nothing of
the personal wretchedness of a debtor, which, however,
has passed into a proverb. Of riches it is not neces-
sary to write the praise. Let it, however, be remem-
bered, that he who has money to spare, has it always in
his power to benefit others ; and of such power a good
man must always be desirous.
" 1 am pleased with your account of Easter. « We
shall meet, 1 hope in autumn, both well and both
cheerful ; and part each the better for the other's
company.
" Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, and to
the young charmers.
" I am, &c.
" London^ June 3, 1782. " Sam. Johnson.^'
" TO MR. PERKINS,
" DEAR SIR,
" I AM much pleased that you are going a very
long journey, which may by proper conduct restore
your health and prolong your life.
B Which I celebrated in the Church-of-England chapel at Edinburgh, founded
by Lord Chief Baron Smith, of respectable and pious memory.
DR. JOHNSON. 269
*' Observe these rules : 1782.
" 1. Turn all care out of your head as soon as you JJ^
mount the chaise. 73.
" 2. Do not think about frugality ; your health is
worth more than it can cost.
" 3. Do not continue any day's journey to fatigue.
" 4. Take now and then a day's rest.
" 6. Get a smart sea-sickness, if you can.
" 6. Cast away all anxiety, and keep your mind easy.
" This last direction is the principal ; with an un-
quiet mind, neither exercise, nor diet, nor physick, can
be of much use.
" 1 wish you, dear Sir, a prosperous journey, and a
happy recovery. 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your most affectionate, humble servant,
" Jult/ 28, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Being uncertain whether I should have any call
this autumn into the country, I did not immediately
answer your kind letter. 1 have no call ; but if you de-
sire to meet me at Ashbourne, I believe I can come
thither; if you had rather come to London, 1 can stay
at Streatham : take your choice.
" This year has been very heavy. From the middle
of January to the middle of June i was battered by one
disorder after another ! 1 am now very much recovered,
and hope still to be better. What happiness it is that
Mrs. Boswell has escaped.
" My ' Lives' are reprinting, and I have forgotten
the authour of Gray's character : ^ write immediately,
and it may be perhaps yet inserted.
" Of London or Ashbourne you have your free
choice ; at any place 1 shall be glad to see you. 1 am,
dear Sir,
^' Yours, &c.
''August 24, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
i
' The Reverend Mr. Temple : Vicar of St. Gluvias, ComwalT.
270 THE LIFE OF
1782. On the 30th of August, I informed him that my hon-
^^ oured father had died that morning ; a complaint under
73, which he had long hiboured, having suddenly come to
a crisis, while 1 was upon a visit at the seat of Sir Charles
Preston, from whence 1 had hastened the day before,
upon receiving a letter by express.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HAVE Struggled through this year with so
much infirmity of body, and such strong impressions of
the fragility of life, that death, whenever it appears, fills
me with melancholy ; and 1 cannot hear without emo-
tion, of the removal of any one, whom 1 have known,
into another state.
" Your father's death had every circumstance that
could enable you to bear it ; it was at a mature age,
and it was expected ; and as his general life had been
pious, his thoughts had doubtless for many years past
been turned upon eternity. That you did not find him
sensible must doubtless grieve you ; his disposition to-
wards you was undoubtedly that of a kind, though not
of a fond father. Kindness, at least actual, is in our
power, but fondness is not ; and if by negligence or
imprudence you had extinguished his fondness, he could
not at will rekindle it. Nothing then remained between
you but mutual forgiveness of each other's faults, and
mutual desire of each other's happiness.
" 1 shall long to know his final disposition of his
fortune.
'• You, dear Sir, have now a new station, and have
therefore new cares, and new employments. Life, as
Cowley seems to say, ought to resemble a well-ordered
poem ; of which one rule generally received is, that the
exordium should be simple, and should promise little.
Begin your new course of life with the least shew, and
the least expence possible; you may at pleasure encrease
both, but you cannot easily diminish them. Do not
think your estate your own, while any man can call
upon you for money which you cannot pay ; therefore,
DR. JOHNSON. 271
beg^in with timorous parsimony. Let it be your first i782.
care not to be m any man s debt. ^tat.
" When the thoughts are extended to a future state, 73. *
the present hfe seems hardly worthy of all those princi-
ples of conduct, and maxims of prudence, which one
generation of men has transmitted to another ; but upon,
a closer view, when it is perceived how much evil is
produced, and how much good is impeded by embarass-
ment and distress, and how little room the expedients
of poverty leave for the exercise of virtue, it grows man-
ifest that the boundless importance of the next life en-
forces some attention to the interest of this.
" Be kind to the old servants, and secure the kind-
ness of the agents and factors ; do not disgust them by
asperity, or unwelcome gaiety, or apparent suspicion.
From them you must learn the real state of your affairs,
the characters of your tenants, and the value of your
lands.
" Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell ; I think
her expectations from air and exercise are the best that
she can form. 1 hope she will live long and happily.
" 1 forgot whether I told you that Rasay has been
here ; we dined cheerfully together. 1 entertained
lately a young gentleman from Corrichatachin.
" 1 received your letters only this morning. I am,
dear Sir,
" Yours, &c.
" London Sept. 7, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
In answer to my next letter, I received one from
him, dissuading me from hastening to him as I had pro-
posed ; what is proper for publication is the following
paragraph, equally just and tender :
" One expence, however, 1 would not have you to
spare ; let nothing be omitted that can preserve Mrs.
Boswell, though it should be necessary to transplant
her for a time into a softer climate. She is the prop
and stay of your life. How much must your children
suffer by losing her."
My wife was now so much convinced of his sincere
friendship for me, and regard for her, that, without any
979 THE LIFE OF
1782. suggestion on my part, she wrote him a very poUte and
^t^. gfiiteful letter.
73.
" DR. JOHNSON TO MRS. BOSWELL.
" DEAR LADY,
" 1 HAVE not often received so much pleasure as
from your invitation to Auchinleck. The journey
thither and back is, indeed, too great for the latter part
of the year ; but if my health were fully recovered, I
would suffer no little heat and cold, nor a wet or a
rough road to keep me from you. 1 am, indeed, not
without hope of seeing Auchinleck again ; but to make
it a pleasant place I must see its lady well, and brisk,
and airy. For my sake, therefore, among many greater
reasons, take care, dear Madam, of your health, spare
no expence, and want no attendance that can procure
ease, or preserve it. Be very careful to keep your mind
quiet ; and do not think it too much to give an account
of your recovery to Madam,
" Yours, &c.
" London Sept. 7, 17S2. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Having passed almost this whole year in a suc-
cession of disorders, 1 went in October to Brighthelm-
stone, whither I came in a state of so much weakness,
that I rested four times in walking between the inn and
the lodging. By physick and abstinence 1 grew better,
and am now reasonably easy, though at a great distance
from health. I am afraid, however, that health begins,
after seventy, and long before, to have a meaning dif-
ferent from that which it had at thirty. But it is cul-
pable to murmer at the established order of the creation,
as it is vain to oppose it, he that lives, must grow old ;
and he that would rather grow old than die, has God
to thank for the infirmities of old age.
" At your long silence 1 am rather angry. You do
not, since now you are the head of your house, think
DR. JOHNSON. 27s
it worth your while to try whether you or your friend ^782.
can hve longer without writing, nor suspect that after so ^■^^
many years of friendship, that when I do not write to 73.
you, I forget you. Put all such useless jealousies out
of your head, and disdain to regulate your own practice
by the practice of another, or by any other principle than
the desire of doing right.
" Your oeconomy, 1 suppose, begins now to be set-
tled ; 3^our expences are adjusted to your revenue, and
all your people in their proper places. Resolve not to
be poor : whatever you have, spend less. Poverty is a
great enemy to human happiness ; it certainly destroys
liberty, and it makes some virtues impracticable, and
others extremely difficult.
" Let me know the history of your life, since your
accession to your estate. How many houses, how many
cows, how much land in your own hand, and what bar-
gains you make with your tenants.
******
" Of my * Lives of the Poets,' they have printed a
new edition in octavo, 1 hear, of three thousand. Did
I give a set to Lord Hailes? If 1 did not, I will do it
out of these. What did you make of all your copy ?
" Mrs. Thrale and the three Misses are now for the
winter, in Argyll-street. Sir Joshua Reynolds has been
out of order, but is well again ; and 1 am, dear Sir,
" Your affectionate humble servant,
" London, Dec. 7, 1782. "Sam. Johnson.''
" to dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON.
" DEAR SIR, *' Edinburgh Dec. 20, 17S2.
" I WAS made happy by your kind letter, which
gave us the agreeable hopes of seeing you in Scotland
again.
" I am much flattered by the concern you are pleased
to take in my recovery. I am better, and hope to have
it in my power to convince you by my attention, of
how much consequence 1 esteem your health to the
world and to myself. 1 remain. Sir, with grateful respect,
" Your obliged and obedient servant,
" Margaret Boswbll."
VOL. III. 3.5
574 THE LIFE OF
1782. The death of Mr. Thrale had made a very material
^t jj alteration with respect to Johnson's reception in that
73. family. The manly authority of the husband no longer
curbed the lively exuberance of the lady ; and as her
vanity had been fully gratified, by having the Colossus
of Literature attached to her for many years, she grad-
ually became less assiduous to please him. Whether
her attachment to him was already divided by another
object, I am unable to ascertain ; but it is plain that
Johnson's penetration was alive to her neglect or forced
attention ; for on the 6th of October this year, we find
him making a " parting use of the library" at Streatham,
and pronouncing a prayer, which he composed on leav-
ing Mr. Thrale's family."'
" Almighty God, Father of all mercy, help me by
thy grace, that 1 may, with humble and sincere thank-
fulness, remember the comforts and conveniencies which
I have enjoyed at this place ; and that 1 may resign
them with holy submission, equally trusting in thy pro-
tection when rhou givest, and when Thou takest away.
Have mercy upon me, O Lord, have mercy upon me.
" To thy fatherly protection, O Lord, I commend
this family. Bless, guide, and defend them, that they
may so pass through this world, as finally to enjoy in
thy presence everlasting happiness, for Jesus'Christ's
sake. Amen."
One cannot read this prayer, without some emotions
not very favourable to the lady whose conduct occa-
sioned it.
In one of his memorandum-books I find " Sunday,
went to church at Streatham. Templo valedixi cum
osculo."
He met Mr. Philip Metcalfe often at Sir Joshua
Reynolds's, and other places, and was a good deal with
him at Brighthelmstone this autumn, being pleased
at once with his excellent table and animated conver-
sation. Mr. Metcalfe shewed him great respect, and
sent him a note that he might have the use of his car-
riage whenever he pleased. Johnson (3d October,
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 214.
DR. JOHNSON. 27o
1782) returned this polite answer : — " Mr. Johnson is Jyf's.
very much obhged by the kind offer of the carriage, ^^
but he has no desire of using Mr. Metcalfe's carriage, 73.
except when he can have the pleasure of Mr. Metcalfe's
company." Mr. Metcalfe could not but be highly pleas-
ed that his company was thus valued by Johnson, and
he frequently attended him in airings. They also
went together to Chichester, and they visited Petworth,
and Cowdry, the venerable seat of the Lords Monta-
cute.* " Sir, (said Johnson,) 1 should hke to stay here
four-and- twenty hours. We see here how our ances-
tors lived."
That his curiosity was still unabated, appears from
two letters to Mr. John Nichols, of the 10th and 20th
of October this year, in one he says, " 1 have looked
into your ' Anecdotes,' and you will hardly thank a
lover of literary history for telling you, that he has been
much informed and gratified. 1 wish you would add
your own discoveries and intelligence to those of Dr.
Rawlinson, and undertake the Supplement to Wood.
Think of it." In the other, " I wish. Sir, you could
obtain some fuller information of Jortin, Markland, and
Thirlby. They were three contemporaries of great
eminence."
" TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
" DEAR SIR,
" 1 HEARD yesterday of your late disorder, and
should think ill of myself if I had heard of it without
alarm. 1 heard likewise of your recovery, which I
sincerely wish to be complete and permanent. Your
country has been in danger of losing one of its bright-
est ornaments, and I of losing one of my oldest and
kindest friends ; but I hope you will still live long, for
the honour of the nation : and that more enjoyment of
your elegance, your intelligence, and your benevolence,
is still reserved for, dear Sir, your most affectionate, &c.
*' Sam. Johnson."
" Brighthelmstone^ Nov. 14, 1782."
' [This venerable mansion has since been totally destroyed by fire. M,]
976 THE LIFE OF
1782. The Revererid Mr. Wilson having dedicated to him
jeJ^ his " Archaeologicfrl Dictionary," that mark of respect
73. was thus acknowledged :
" TO THE REVEREND MR. WILSON, CLITHEROE, LAN-
CASHIRE.
" REVEREND SIR,
" That 1 have long omitted to return you thanks
for the honour conferred upon me by your Dedication,
I entreat you with great earnestness not to consider as
more faulty than it is. A very importunate and op-
pressive disorder has for some time debarred me from
the pleasures, and obstructed me in the duties of life.
The esteem and kindness of wise and good men is one
of the last pleasures which 1 can be content to lose;
and gratitude to those from whom this pleasure is re-
ceived, is a diity of which 1 hope never to be reproach-
ed with the final neglect. 1 therefore now return you
thanks for the notice which I have received from you,
and which 1 consider as giving to my name not only
more bulk, but more weight ; not only as extending its
superficies, but as increasing its value. Your book was^
evidently wanted, and will, 1 hope, find its way into
the school, to which, however, 1 do not mean to con-
fine it ; for no man has so much skill in antient rites
and practices as not to want it. As 1 suppose myself
to owe part of your kindness to my excellent friend,
Dr. Patten, he has likewise a just claim to my acknowl-
edgement, which 1 hope you, Sir, will transmit. There
will soon appear a new edition of my Poetical Biogra-
phy ; if you will accept of a copy to keep me in your
mind, be pleased to let me know how it may be con-
veniently conveyed to you. This present is small, but
it is given with good will by. Reverend Sir,
" Your most, &c.
« December 31, 1782. " Sam. Johnson."
In 1783, he was more severely afflicted than ever,
as will appear in the course of his correspondence ; but
still the same ardour fur literature, the same constant
DR. JOHNSON. 277
piety, the same kindness for his friends, and the same '783.
vivacity, both in conversation and writing, distinguished J^'^
him. 74.
Having given Dr. Johnson a full account of what I
was doing at Auchinleck, and particularly mentioned
what 1 knew would please him, — my having brought
an old man of eighty-eight from a lonely cottage to a
comfortable habitation within my enclosures, where he
had good neighbours near to him, — 1 received an answer
in February, of which 1 extract what follows :
" I am delighted with your account of your activity
at Auchinleck, and wish the old gentleman, whom you
have so kindly removed, may live long to promote your
prosperity by hi^ prayers. You have now a new char-
acter and new duties ; think on them and practise them.
" Make an impartial estimate of your revenue, and
whatever it is, live upon less. Resolve never to be
poor. Frugality is not only the basis of quiet, but of
beneficence. No man can help others that wants help
himself; we must have enough before we have to spare.
" I am glad to find that Mrs. Boswell grows well ;
and hope that to keep her well, no care nor caution
will be omitted. May you long live happily together.
" When you come hither, pray bring with you Bax-
ter's Anacreon. 1 cannot get that edition in London."^
On Friday, March 21, having arrived in London the
night before, I was glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's
house, in Argyll-street, appearances of friendship be-
tween them being still kept up. 1 was shewn into his
room, and after the first salutation he said, " 1 am glad
you are come : 1 am very ill." He looked pale, and
was distressed with a difficulty of breathing : but after
the common enquiries he assumed his usual strong an-
imated style of conversation. Seeing me now for the
first time as a Laird^ or proprietor of land, he began
thus : " Sir, the superiority of a country-gentleman
over the people upon his estate is very agreeable : and
he who says he does not feel it to be agreeable, lies ;
^ [Dr. Johnson should seem not to have sought diligently for Baxter's Anacreon,
for there are two editions of that book, and they are frequently found in the Lon-
don Sale-Catalogues. M.]
278 THE LIFE OF
1783. for it must be agreeable to have a casual superiority
^^'^ over those who are by nature equal with us." Bos-
74. WELL. " Yet, Sir, we see great proprietors of land who
prefer living in London." Johxson. " Why, Sir, the
pleasure of living in London, the intellectual superiority
that is enjoyed there, may counterbalance the other.
Besides, Sir, a man may prefer the state of the country-
gentleman upon the whole, and yet there may never be
a moment when he is willing to make the change, to
quit London for it." He said, " It is better to have
^ve per cent, out of land, than out of money, because
it is more secure ; but the readiness of transfer, and
promptness of interest, make many people rather choose
the funds. Nay, there is another disadvantage be-
longing to land, compared with money. A man is not
so much afraid of being a hard creditor, as of bemg a
hard landlord." Boswell. " Because there is a sort
of kindly connection between a landlord and his ten-
ants." Johnson. " No, Sir; many landlords with us
never see their tenants. It is because if a landlord
drives away his tenants, he may not get others ; whereas
the demand for money is so great, it may always be lent."
He talked with regret and indignation of the fac-
tious opposition to Government at this time, and im-
puted it in a great measure to the Revolution. " Sir,
(said he, in a low voice, having come nearer to me,
while his old prejudices seemed to be fomenting in his
mind,) this Hanoverian family is isoiee here. They
have no friends. Now the Stuarts had friends who
stuck by them so late as 174o. When the right of the
King is not reverenced, there will not be reverence for
those appointed by the King."
His observation that the present royal family has no
friends, has been too much justified by the very un-
grateful behaviour of many who were under great ob-
ligations to his Majesty ; at the same time there are hon-
ourable exceptions ; and the very next year after this-
conversation, and ever since, the King has had as ex-
tensive and generous support as ever was given to any
monarch, and has had the satisfaction of knowing that
he was more and more endeared to his people.
DR. JOHNSON. 279
He repeated to me his verses on Mr. Levet, with an '783.
emotion which gave them full eft'ect ; and then he was ^^
pleased to say, " You must be as much with me as 74.
you can. You have done me good. You cannot think
how much better L am, since you came in.^'
He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I
was arrived. 1 had not seen her since her husband's
death. She soon appeared, and favoured me with an
invitation to stay to dinner, which I accepted. There
was no other company but herself and three of her
daughters,. Dr. Johnson and I. She too said, she was
very glad 1 was come, for she was going to Bath, and
should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson before I
came. This seemed to be attentive and kind ; and I
who had not been informed of any change, imagined
all to be as well as formerly. He was little inclined to
talk at dinner, and went to sleep after it ; but when he
joined us in the drawing-room, he seemed revived, and
was again himself.
Talking of conversation, he said, "There must, in
the first place, be knowledge, there must be materials ;
— in the second place, there must be a command of
words; — in the third place, there must be imagination,
to place things in such views as they are not comaiDuly
seen in ; — and in the fourth place, there must be pres-
ence of mind, and a resolution that is not to be over-
come by failures ; this last is an essential requisite ; for
want of it many people do not excel in conversation.
Now / want it ; I throw up the game upon losing a
trick." 1 wondered to hear him talk thus of himself,
and said, " I don't know. Sir, how this may be ; but I
am sure you beat other people's cards out of their hands."
I doubt whether he heard this remark. While we went
on talking triumphantly, 1 was fixed in admiration, and
said to Mrs. Thrale, " O, for short-hand to take this
down !" — " You'll carry it all in your head, (said she ;)
a long head is as good as short-hand."
It has been observed and wondered at, that Mr.
Charles Fox never talked with any freedom in the pres-
ence of Dr. Johnson ; though it is well known, and I
myself can witness, that his conversation is various.
280 THE LIFE OF
i7«3. fluent, and exceedingly agreeable. Johnson's own ex-
Sat! perience, however, of that gentleman's reserve was a
74. sufficient reason for his going on thus : " Fox never
talks in private company ; not from any determination
not to talk, but because he has not the first motion. A
man who is used to the applause of the House of Com-
mons, has no wish for that of a private company. A
man accustomed to throw for a thousand pounds, if set
down to throw for sixpence, would not be at the pains
to count his dice. Burke's talk is the ebullition of his
mind ; he does not talk from a desire of distinction, but
because his mind is full."
He thus curiously characterised one of our old ac-
quaintance : " ******** is a good man, Sir ; but he is
a vain man and a liar. He, however, only tells lies
of vanity ; of victories, for instance, in conversation,
which never happened." This alluded to a story which
I had repeated from that gentleman, to entertain John-
son with its wild bravado : " This Johnson, Sir, (said
he,) whom you are all afraid of, will shrink, if you come
close to him in argument, and roar as loud as he. He
once maintained the paradox, that there is no beauty
but in utility. ' Sir, (said I,) what sav you to the pea-
cock's tail, which is one of the most beautiful objects
in nature, but would have as much utility if its feathers
were all of one colour. Heje/l what I thus produced,
and had recourse to his usual expedient, ridicule ; ex-
claiming, ' A peacock has a tail, and a fox has a tail ;'
and then he burst out into a laugh. — ' Well, Sir, (said
I, with a strong voice, looking him full in the face,) you
have unkennelled your fox ; pursue him if you dare.'
He had not a word to say. Sir" — Johnson, told me,
that this was fiction from beginning to end.*
■* Were I to insert all the stories which have been told of contests boldly main-
tained with him, imaginary victories obtained over him, of reducing him to silence,
and of making him own that his antagonist had the better of him in argument,
my volumes would swell to an immoderate size. One iHstance, I find, has circula-
ted both in conversation and in print ; that when he would not allow the Scotch
writers to have merit, the late Dr. Rose, of Chiswick. asserted, that he could name
one Scotch writer, whom Dr. Jolmson himself would allow to have written better
than any man of the age ; and upon Johnson's asking who it was, answered, " Lord
Bute, when he signed the warrant for your pension." Upon which, Johnson,
struck with the repartee, acknowledged that this ivas true. When I mentioned
it to Johnson, « Sir, Csaid he,) if Rose said this, I never heard it."
DR. JOHNSON. 281
After musing for some time, he said, "I wonder how ^7 83.
I should have any enemies ; for 1 do harm to nobody." ^ ^^
BoswELL. " In the first place, Sir, you will be pleased 74.*
to recollect, that you set out with attacking the Scotch ;
so you got a whole nation for your enemies." John-
son. " Why, 1 own, that by my definition of oats I
meant to vex them." Boswell. " Pray, Sir, can you
trace the cause of your antipathy to the Scotch." John-
son. " 1 cannot, Sir." Boswell. " Old Mr. Sheridan
says, it was because they sold Charles the First."
Johnson. " Then, Sir, old Mr. Sheridan has found out
a very good reason."
Surely the most obstinate and sulky rationality, the
most determined aversion to this great and good man,
must be cured, when he is seen thus playing with one
of his prejudices, of which he candidly admitted that he
could not tell the reason. It was, however, probably
owing to his having had in his view the worst part of
the Scottish nation, the needy adventurers, many of
whom he thought were advanced above their merits,
by means which he did not approve. Had he in his
early life been in Scotland, and seen the worthy, sensi-
ble, independent gentlemen, who live rationally and
hospitably at home, he never could have entertained
such unfavourable and unjust notions of his fellow-sub-
jects. And accordingly we find, that when he did visit
Scotland, in the latter period of his life, he was fully
sensible of all that it deserved, as 1 have already point-
ed out, when speaking of his " Journey to the Western
Islands."
Next day, Saturday, March 22, T found him still at
Mrs. Thrale's, but he told me that he was to ^o to his
own house in the afternoon. He was better, but I per-
ceived he was but an unruly patient, for Sir Lucas
Pepys, who visited him, while 1 was with him said, " If
you were tractable^ Sir, I should prescribe for you."
I related to him a remark which a respectable friend
'^ This reflection was very natural in a man of a good heart, who was not con-
scious of any ill-will to mankind, though the sharp sayings which were sometimes
produced by his discrimination and vivacity, which he perhaps did not recollect,
were, I am afraid, too ofter remembered with resentment.
VOL. TIT. 36
282 THE LIFE OF
1783. had made to die, upon the then state of Government,
SuT ^^^^^" those who had been long in opposition had attain-
74. ed to power, as it was supposed, against the incHnaiion
of the Sovereign. " You need not be uneasy (said this
gentleman) about the King. He laughs at them all ;
he plays them one against another." Johnson. "Don't
think so. Sir. The King is as much oppressed as a man
can be. If he plays them one against another, he wins
nothing."
1 had paid a visit to General Oglethorpe in the morn-
ing, and was told by him that Dr. Johnson saw company
on Saturday evenings, and he would meet me at John-
son's that night. When I mentioned this to Johnson,
not doubting that it would please him, as he had a great
value for Oglethorpe, the fretfulness of his disease un-
expectedly shewed itself; his anger suddenly kindled,
and he said, with vehemence, " Did not you tell him
not to come ] Am I to be hitntedm this manner ?" 1 sat-
isfied him that I could not divine that the visit would
not be convenient, and that I certainly could not take
it upon me of my own accord to forbid the General.
I found Dr. Johnson in the evening in Mrs. Wil-
liams's room, at tea and coffee with her and Mrs.
Desmoulins, who were also both ill ; it was a sad scene,
and he was not in a very good humour. He said of a
performance that had lately come out, " Sir, if you
should search all the madhouses in England, you vvpuld
not find ten men who would write so, and think it
sense."
1 was glad when General Oglethorpe's arrival was
announced, and we left the ladies. Dr. Johnson at-
tended him in the parlour, and was as courteous as
ever. The General said, he was busy reading the writ-
ers of the middle age. Johnson said they were very
curious. Oglethorpe. " The House of Commons
has usurped the power of the nation's money, and used
it tyrannically. Government is now carried on by
corrupt influence, instead of the inherent right in the
King." Johnson. " Sir, the want of inherent right in
the King occasions all this disturbance. What we did
at the Revolution was necessary : but it broke our
DR. JOHNSON. 983
constitution."^ Oglethorpe. " My father did not '783.
think it necessary." ^EtaT.
On Sunday, March 23, I breakfasted with Dr. John- 74.
son, who seemed much relieved, having taken opium
the night before. He however protested against it, as
a remedy that should be given with the utmost reluc-
tance, and only in extreme necessity. I mentioned
how commonly it was used in Turkey, and that there-
fore it could not be so pernicious as he apprehended.
He grew warm, and said, " Turks take opium, and
Christians take opium ; but Russei, in his account of
Aleppo, tells us, that it is as disgraceful in Turkey to
take too much opium, as it is with us to get drunk.
Sir, it is amazing how things are exaggerated. A gen-
tleman was lately telling in a company where 1 was
present, that in France as soon as a man of fashion
marries, he takes an opera girl into keeping ; and this
he mentioned as a general custom. ' t'ray. Sir, (said
I,) how many opera girls may there be V He an-
swered, ' About fourscore.' ' Well then. Sir, (said I,)
you see there can be no more than fourscore men of
fashion who can do this."
Mrs. Desmoulins made tea ; and she and I talked
before him upon a topick which he had once borne
patiently from me when we were by ourselves, — his
not complaining of the world, because he was not
called to some great office, nor had attained to great
wealth. He flew into a violent passion, 1 confess with
some justice, and commanded us to have done, " No-
body, (said he) has a right to talk in this manner, to
bring before a man his own character, and the events
of his life, when he does not choose it should be done.
I never have sought the world ; the world was not to
seek me. It is rather wonderful that so much has been
done for me. All the complaints which are made of
the world are unjust. 1 never knew a man of merit
' I have, in my " Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," fully expressed my senti-
ments upon this subject. The Revolution was necessary, but not a subject ior glory ;
because it for a long time blasted the generous feelings of Loyalty. And now,
when by the benignant effect of time the present Royal Family are established in
our affections, how unwise is it to revive by celebrations the memory of a shock,
which it would purely have been better that our constitution had not required.
284 THE LIFE OF
1783. neglected : it was generally by his own fault that he
''^^ failed of success. A man may hide his head in a hole :
74. he may go into the country, and publish a book now
and then, which nobody reads, and then complain he is
neglected. There is no reason why any person should
exert himself for a man who has written a good book :
he has not written it for any individual. 1 may as well
make a present to the postman who brings me a letter.
When patronage was limited, an authour expected to
find a Maecenas, and complained if he did not find one.
Why should he complain ? This Maecenas has others
as good as he, or others who have got the start of him."
BoswELL. " But Surely, Sir, you will allow that there
are men of merit at the bar, who never get practice.'^
Johnson. " Sir, you are sure that practice is got from
an opinion that the person employed deserves it best ;
so that if a man of merit at the bar does not get practice,
it is from errour, not from injustice. He is not ne-
glected. A horse that is brought to market may not
be bought, though he is a very good horse : but that
is from ignorance, not from intention."
There was in this discourse much novelty, ingenuity,
and discrimination, such as is seldom to be found. Yet
I cannot help thinking that men of merit, who have no
success in life, may be forgiven for lamenting^ if they
are not allowed to complain. They may consider it as
hard that their merit should not have its suitable dis-
tinction. Though there is no intentional injustice to-
wards them on the part of the world, their merit not
having been perceived, they may yet repine against
Jortune^ or Jate^ or by whatever name they choose to
call the supposed mythological power of Destiny. It
has, however, occurred to me, as a consolatory thought,
that men of merit should consider thus : — How much
harder would it be, if the same persons had both all the
merit and all the prosperity. Would not this be a"
miserable distribution for the poor dunces ? Would
men of merit exchange their intellectual superiority,
and the enjoyments arising from it, for external dis-
tinction and the pleasures of wealth ? If they would
not, let them not envy others, who are poor where they
DR. JOHNSON. 285
are rich, a compensation which is made to them. Let '783.
them look inwards and be satisfied ; recollecting with ^^,
conscious pride what Virgil finely says of the Corycius 74.
Se/iex\ and which 1 have, in another place,' with truth
and sincerity applied to Mr. Burke :
" Regum cequabat opes an^mis."
On the subject of the right employment of wealth,
Johnson observed, " A man cannot make a bad use
of his money, so far as regards Society, if he do not
hoard it ; for if he either spends it or lends it out, So-
ciety has the benefit. It is in general better to spend
money than to give it away ; for industry is more pro-
moted by spending money than by giving it away. A
man who spends his money is sure he is doing good
with it : he is not so sure when he gives it away. A
man who spends ten thousand a year will do more
good than a man who spends two thousand and gives
away eight."
In the evening I came to him again. He was some-
what fretful from his illness. A gentleman asked him
whether he had been abroad to-day. " Don't talk so
childishly, (said he.) You may as well ask if i hanged
myself to-day." 1 mentioned politicks. Johnson.
" Sir, I'd as soon have a man to break my bones as
talk to me of publick affairs, internal or external. I
have lived to see things all as bad as they can be."
Having mentioned his friend, the second Lord *
Southwell, he said, " Lord Southwell was the highest-
bred man without insolence, that I ever was in com-
pany with ; the most guulitied I ever saw. Lord Or-
rery was not dignified ; Lord Chesterfield was, but he
was insolent. Lord ********* is a man of coarse
manners, but a man of abilities and information. I
don't say he is a man I would set at the head of a
nation, though perhaps he may be as good as the next
Prime Minister that comes ; but he is a man to be at
the head of a Club ; — I don't say oitr Club ; — for
there's no such Club." Boswell. " But, Sir, was he
' Letter to the People of Scotland against the Attempt to diminish the Number
of the Lords of Session, 1785.
286 THE LIFE OF
1783. not once a factious man ?" Johnson. " O yes, Sir ;
^^g^^ as factious a fellow as could be found : one who was
74, for sinking us all into the mob." Boswell. " How
then, Sir, did he get into favour with the King ?"
Johnson. " Because, Sir, 1 suppose he promised the
King to do whatever the King pleased."
He said, " Goldsmith's blundering speech to Lord
Shelburne, which has been so often mentioned, and
which he really did make to him, was only a blunder
in emphasis : — ' 1 wonder they should call your Lord-
ship Maktgrida, for Malagrida was a very good man ;'
— meant, 1 wonder they should use Malagrida as a
term of reproach."
Soon after this time I had an opportunity of seeing,
by means of one of his friends, a proof that his talents,
as well as his obliging service to authours, were ready
as ever. He had revised " The Village," an admirable
poem, by the Reverend Mr. Crabbe. Its sentiments
as to the false notions of rustick happiness and rustick
virtue, were quite congenial with his own ; and he
had taken the trouble not only to suggest slight cor-
rections and variations, but to furnish some lines, when
he thought he could give the writer's meaning better
than in the words of the manuscript.^
On Sunday, March 30, I found him at home in the
evening, and had the pleasure to meet with Dr. Brock-
* I shall give an instance, marking the original by Roman, and Johnson's sub-
stitution in Itallck characters :
" In fairer scenes, where peaceful pleasures spring,
" Tityrus, the pride of Mantuan swains, might sing
" But charmed by him, or smitten with his views,
" Shall modern poets court the Mantuan muse ?
" From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray,
" Where Fancy leads, or Virgil led the way :"
" On Mincws banks, in Casar's bounteous rei^n,
" If Tityrus found the golden age again,
" Must sleepy bards the fiattering dream prolong,
" Mechanick echoes of the Mantuan song ?
" From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray,
" Where Virgil, not "where Fancy, leads the ivay ?'
Here we find Johnson's poetical and critical powers undiminished. 1 must,
however, observe that the aids he gave to this poem, and to " The Traveller"and
" Deserted Village" of Goldsmith, were so small as by no means to impair the dis-
tinguishing merit of the authour.
DR. JOHNSON. 287
lesby, whose reading, and knowledge of life, and good i783.
spirits, supply him with a never-failing source of conver- ^taT
sation. He mentioned a respectable gentleman, who 74. *
became extremely penurious near the close of his life.
Johnson said there must have been a degree of madness
about him. " Not at all. Sir, (said Dr. Brocklesby,) his
judgement was entire." Unluckily, however, he men-
tioned that although he had a fortune of twenty-seven
thousand pounds, he denied himself many comforts,
from an apprehension that he could not afford them.
" Nay, Sir, (cried Johnson,) when the judgement is so
disturbed that a man cannot count, that is pretty well."
1 shall here insert a few of Johnson^s sayings, without
the formality of dates, as they have no reference to any
particular time or place.
" The more a man extends and varies his acquaint-
ance the better." This, however, was meant with a
just restriction ; for, he on another occasion said tome,
" Sir, a man may be so much of every thing, that he is
nothing of any thing."
" Raising the wages of day-labourers is wrong ; for it
does not make them live better, but onlv makes them
idler, and idleness is a very bad thing for human nature."
" It is a very good custom to keep a journal for a
man's own use ; he may write upon a card a day all
that is necessary to be written, after he has had expe-
rience of life. At first there is a great deal to be writ-
ten, because there is a great deal of novelty ; but when
once a man has settled his opinions, there is seldom
much to be set down."
" There is nothing wonderful in the Journal^ which
' [In his Life of Swift, he thus speaks of this Journal :
" In the midst of his power and his politicks, he kept a journal of his visits, his
walks, his interviews with ministers, and quarrels with his servant, and transmitted
it to Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Dingley, to whom he knew that whatever befell him
was interesting, and no account could be too minute. Whether these diurnal trifles
were properly exposed to eyes which had never received any pleasure from the
Dean, may be reasonably doubted : they have, however, some odd attractions : the
reader finding frequent mention of names wliich he has been used to consider as
important, goes on in hope of information ; and as there is nothing to fatigue atten-
tion, if he is disappointed, he can hardly complain."
It may be added, that the reader not only hopes to find, but does find, in this very
entertaining Journal, much curious information, respecting persons and thin^,
which he will in vain seek for in otber bvoks ef the same peried. M.]
288 THE LIFE OF
1783. we see Swift kept in London, for it contains slight top-
"k^ icks, and it might soon be written."
74 * 1 praised the accuracy of an account-book of a lady
whom 1 mentioned. Johnson. " Keeping accounts,
Sir, is of no use when a man is spending his own money,
and has nobody to whom he is to account. V'ou won't
eat less beef to-day, because you have written down
what it cost yesterday." 1 mentioned another lady who
thought as he did, so that her husband could not get
her to keep an account of the expence of the family, as
she thought it enough that she never exceeded the sum
allowed her. Johnson. " Sir, it is fit she should keep
an account, because her husband wishes it ; but I do
not see its use." 1 maintained that keeping an account
has this advantage, that it satisfies a man that his money
has not been lost or stolen, which he might sometimes
be apt to imagine, were there no written state of his ex-
pence ; and besides, a calculation of economy so as not
to exceed one's income, cannot be made without a view
of the different articles in figures, that one may see how
to retrench in some particulars less necessary than
others. This he did not attempt to answer.
Talking of an acquaintance of ours, whose narratives,
which abounded in curious and interesting topicks,
were unhappily found to be very fabulous ; 1 mentioned
Lord Mansfield's having said to me, "' Jiuppose we be-
lieve one ha/fof what he tells." Johnson. " Ay ; but
we don't know which half to believe. By his lying we
lose not only our reverence for him, but all comfort in
his conversation." Boswell. " May we not take it as
amusing fiction?" Johnson. "Sir, the misfortune is,
that you will insensibly believe as much of it as you in-
cline to believe."
It is remarkable, that notwithstanding their congeni-
ality in politicks, he never was acquairjted with a late
eminent noble judge, whom I have heard speak of him
as a writer, with great respect. Johnson, 1 know not
upon what degree of investigation, entertained no ex-
alted opinion of his Lordship's intellectual character.
Talking of him to me one day, he said, "■ It is wonder-
ful. Sir, with how little real superiority of mind men
DR. JOHNSON. 289
can make an eminent figure in publick life." He ex- ^"^^•
pressed himself to the same purpose concerning another Mt^,
law-lord, who, it seems, once took a fancy to associate 74.
with the wits of London ; but with so little success,
that Foote said, " What can he mean by coming among
us? He is not only dull himself, but the cause of dull-
ness in others." Trying him by the test of his collo-
quial powers, Johnson had found him very defective.
He once said to Sir Joshua Reynolds, " This man now
has been ten years about town, and has made nothing
of it ;" meaning as a companion.' He said to me, " I
never heard any thing from him in company that was
at all striking ; and depend upon it. Sir, it is when you
come close to a man in conversation, that you discover
what his real abilities are : to make a speech in a pub-
lick assembly is a knack. Now 1 honour Thurlow, Sir;
Thurlow is a fine fellow ; he fairly puts his mind to
yours."
After repeating to him some of his pointed, lively
sayings, I said, " it is a pity, Sir, you don't always re-
member your own good things, that you may have a
laugh when you will." Johnson. " Nay, Sir, it is better
that 1 forget them, that I may be reminded of them,
and have a laugh on their being brought to my recol-
lection."
When I recalled to him his having said as we sailed
up Lochlomond, " That if he wore any thing fine, it
should be veri/ fine ;" I observed that all his thoughts
were upon a great scale. Johnson. " Depend upon
it. Sir, every man will have as fine a thing as he can
get ; as large a diamond for his ring." Boswell. " Par-
don me. Sir : a man of a narrow mind will not think of
it, a slight trinket will satisfy him :
^^ Nee su/ferre queat majoris pondera gemmce"
I told him 1 should send him some " Essays" which
> Knowing as well as I do what precision and elegance of oratory his Lordship
can display, I cannot but suspect that his unfavourable appearance in a social cir-
cle, which drew such animadversions upon him, must be owing to a cold affectation
of consequence, from being reserved and stiff. If it be so, and he might be aj) agree-
able man if he would, we cannot be sorry that he misses his ain),'
VOL. IIT, 37
'290 THE LIFE OF
1783. I had written,- which I hoped he would be so good as
^ut^ ^^ read, and pick out the good ones. Johnson. " Nay,
74. Sir, send me only the good ones ; don't make 7ne pick
them."
1 heard him once say, " Though the proverb ' Nullum
numen abest^ si sit prudential does not always prove
true, we may be certain of the converse of it, Nullum
numen adest^ si sit imprudentia"
Once, when Mr. Seward was going to Bath, and ask-
ed his commands, he said, " Tell Dr. Harrington that
1 wish he would publish another volume of the ' Nugce
antiquce /'^ it is a very pretty book."* Mr. Seward sec-
onded this wish, and recommended to Dr. Harrington
to dedicate it to Johnson, and take for his motto, what
Catullus says to Cornelius Nepos :
namque tu solehas.
" Meets esse aliquid putare NUGAS."
As a small proof of his kindliness and delicacy of feel-
ing, the following circumstance may be mentioned :
One evening when we were in the street together, and
1 told him I was going to sup at Mr. Beauclerk's, he
said, " I'll go with you." After having walked part of
the way, seeming to recollect something, he suddenly
stopped and said, " i cannot go, — but / do not love
Beauclerk the less"
On the frame of his portrait, Mr. Beauclerk had in-
scribed,
" Ingenium ingens
" Inculto latet hoc sub corpore"
After Mr. Beauclerk's death, when it became Mr. Lang-
ton's property, he made the inscription be defaced.
Johnson said complacently, " It was kind in you to
^ [Under the title of " The Hypochondriack." M.]
' It has since appeared.
* [A new and greatly improved edition of this very curious collection was pub-
lished by Mr. Park in 1804, in two volumes, octavo. In this edition the letters are
chronologically arranged, and the account of the Bishops, which was formerly print-
ed from a very corrupt copy, is taken from Sir John Harrington's original manu-
script, which he presented to Henry, Prince of Wales, and is now in the Royal Li-
brary in the Museum. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 291
take it off; and then after a short pause, added, " and 17B3.
not unkind in him to put it on." itaT.
He said, " How few of his friends^ houses would a 74.
man choose to be at, when he is sick !" He mention-
ed one or two. 1 recollect only Thrale's.
He observed, " There is a wicked inclination in most
people to suppose an old man decayed in his intellects.
If a young or middle-aged man, when leaving a com-
pany, does not recollect where he laid his hat, it is noth-
ing ; but if the same inattention is discovered in an old
man, people will shrug up their shoulders, and say,
* His memory is going."
When 1 once talked to him of some of the sayings
which every body repeats, but nobody knows where to
find, such as, Quos Deus vult perdere^ prius dementat ;
he told me that he was once offered ten guineas to point
out from whence Semel insanivimus omnes was taken.
He could not do it ; but many years afterwards met
■with it by chance in Johannes Baptista Mantuanus.^
' [The words occur, (as Mr. Bindley observes to me,) in the First Eclogue of Man-
tuanus, De bonesto Amore, iSfc.
Id commune malum ; semel insanivimus omnes.
With the following elucidation of the other sapng — Q,uos Deus (it should rather be —
Quern Jupiter) vult perdere,prius dementat — Mr.Bosweli was furnished by Mr. Richard
How, of Aspley, in Bedfordshire, as communicated to that gentleman by his fiiend
Mr. John Pitts, late Rector of Great Brickhill, in Buckinghamshire :
" Perhaps no scrap of Latin whatever has been more quoted than this. It occa-
sionally falls even from those who are scrupulous even to pedantry in their Latinity,
and will not admit a word into their compositions, which has not the sanctiun of
the first age. The word demento is of no authority, either as a verb active or neu-
ter.— After a long search for the purpose of deciding a bet, some gentlemen of
Cambridge found it among the fragments of Euripides, in what edition I do not
recollect, where it is given as a translation of a Greek lambick -.
" The above scrap was found in the hand-writing of a suicide of fashion, Sir D. O.
some years ago, lying on the table of the room where he had destroyed liimself.
The suicide was a man of classical acquirements : he left no other paper behind
him." —
Another of these proverbial sayings —
Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charyidim,
some years ago, in a Note on a passage in The Merchant of Venice, traced
^o its source. It occurs (with a slight variation) in the Alexandreis of Philip
Gualtier, (a poet of the thirteenth century) which was printed at Lyons in 1558,
Darius is the person addressed :
Quo tendis inertem.
Rex periture, fugam ? nescis, heu ! perdite, nescis
Quem fugias : hostes incurris dum fugis hostem j
Incidit in Scyllam, cupitns ■yitare Charybdim,
29^ THE LIFE OF
1783. I am very sorry that I did not take a note of an elo*
^J^queiit argument in which he maintained that the situ-
74. ' ation of Prince of Wales was the happiest of any per-
son's in the kingdom, even beyond that of the Sove-
reign. 1 recollect only — the enjoyment of hope, — the
high superiority of rank, without the anxious cares of
government, — and a great degree of power, both from
natural influence wisely used, and from the sanguine
expectations of those who look forward to the chance
of future favour.
Sir Joshua Reynolds communicated to me the follow-
ing particulars :
Johnson thought the poems published as translations
from Ossian, had so little merit, that he said, " Sir, a
man might write such stuff for ever, if he would aban-
don his mind to it."
He said, " A man should pass a part of his time with
the /augi/ers, by which means any thing ridiculous or
particular about him might be presented to his view,
and corrected." I observed, he must have been a bold
laugher who would have ventured to tell Dr. Johnson
of any of his particularities.^
Having observed the vain ostentatious importance of
many people in quoting the authority of Dukes and
Lords, as having been in their company, he said, he
went to the other extreme, and did not mention his
authority when he should have done it, had it not been
that of a Duke or a Lord.
Dr. Goldsmith said once to Dr. Johnson, that he
wished for some additional membiers to the Literary
The author of this line was first ascertained by Galleottus Martius, who died
in 1476 ; as is observed in AIenagiana, vol. iii. p. 130. edit. 1762. — For an ac-
count of Philip Gualtier, see Vossius de Poet. Latin, p. 254, fol, 1697.
A line not less frequently quoted than any of the preceding, was suggested for
enquiry, several years ago, in a Note on The Rape of Lucrece :
Solamen miseiis soclos bahuisse doloris —— :
But the author of this verse has not, I believe, been discovered. M.]
" I am happy, however, to mention a pleasing instance of his enduring with
great gentleness to hear one of his most striking particularities pointed out : — Miss
Hunter, a niece of his friend Christopher Smart, when a very young girl, struck
by his extraordinary motions, said to him, " Pray, Dr. Johnson, why do you make
such strange gestures 1" — "From bad habit, (he replied.) Do you, my dear, take
eare to guard against bad habits." This I was told by the young lady's brother
af Margate.
DR. JOHNSON. 293
Club, to give it an agreeable variety ; for (said he,) i/^s.
there can now be nothing new among us : we have ^'^
travelled over one another's minds. Johnson seemed 74.
a little angry, and said, " Sir, you have not travelled
over my mind, I promise you." Sir Joshua, however,
thought Goldsmith right ; observing, that '• when
people have lived a great deal together, they know
what each of them will say on every subject. A
new understanding, therefore, is desirable ; because
though it may only furnish the same sense upon a
question which would have been furnished by those
with whom we are accustomed to live, yet this sense
will have a different colouring ; and colouring is of
much effect in every thing else as well as in painting."
Johnson used to say that he made it a constant rule
to talk as well as he could both as to sentiment and
expression, by which means, what had been originally
effort became familiar and easy. The consequence of
this. Sir Joshua observed, was, that his common con-
versation in all companies was such as to secure him
universal attention, as something above the usual col-
loquial style was expected.
Yet, though Johnson had this habit in company,
when another mode was necessary, in order to investi-
gate truth, he could descend to a language intelligible
to the meanest capacity. An instance of this was wit-
nessed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, when they were present
at an examination of a little black-guard boy, by Mr.
Saunders Welch, the late Westminster Justice. Welch,
who imagined that he was exalting himself in Dr.
Johnson's eyes by using big words, spoke in a manner
that was utterly unintelligible to the boy ; Dr. Johnson
perceiving it, addressed himself to the boy, and chang-
ed the pompous phraseology into colloquial language.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was much amused by this
procedure, which seemed a kind of reversing of what
might have been expected from the two men, took
notice of it to Dr. Johnson, as they walked away by
themselves. Johnson said, that it was continually the
case ; and that he was always obliged to translate the
Justice's swelling diction, (smiling,) so as that his
294 THE LIFE OP
1783. meaning might be understood by the vulgar, from
^^^ whom information was to be obtained.
74. ' Sir Joshua once observed to him, that he had talked
above the capacity of some people with whom they had
been in company together. " No matter, Sir, (said
Johnson ;) they consider it as a coniphment to be
talked to, as if they were wiser than they are. So true
is this. Sir, that Baxter made it a rule in every sermon
that he preached, to say something that was above the
capacity of his audience."^
Johnson's dexterity in retort, when he seemed to be
driven to an extremity by his adversary, was very re-
markable. Of his power in this respect, our common
friend, Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, has been pleased to
furnish me with an eminent instance. However un-
favourable to Scotland, he uniformly gave liberal praise
to George Buchanan, as a writer. In a conversation
concerning the literary merits of the two countries, in
which Buchanan was introduced, a Scotchman, imagin-
ing that on this ground he should have an undoubted
triumph over him, exclaimed, " Ah, Dr. Johnson, what
would you have said of Buchanan, had he been an
Englishman I" — " AVhy, Sir, (said Johnson, after a
little pause,) 1 should not have said of Buchanan, had
he been an Englishman^ what I will now say of him as
a Scotchman^ — that he was the only man of genius his
country ever produced."
And this brings to my recollection another instance
of the same nature. 1 once reminded him that when
Dr. Adam Smith was expatiating on the beauty of Glas-
gow, he had cut him short by saying, " Pray, Sir, have
you ever seen Brentford ?" and 1 took the liberty to
add, " My dear Sir, surely that was shocking.^' —
" Why, then. Sir, (he replied,) you have never seen
Brentford."
Though his usual phrase for conversation was talk,
yet he made a distinction ; for when he once told me
*The justness of this remark is confirmed by the following story, for which I am
indebted to Lord Eliot : A country Parson, who was remarkable for quoting
scraps of Latin in his sermons, having died, one of his parishioners was asked how
lie liked his successor ; " He is a very good preacher, (was his answer,) but no
laliner"
DR. JOHNSON. ^95
that he dined the day before at a friend's house, with 1783.
" a very pretty company ;" and I asked him if there JJJ!
was good conversation, he answered, " No, Sir ; we 74.
had ta/k enough, but no conversation ; there was
nothing discussed ."
Talking of the success of the Scotch in London, he
imputed it in a considerable degree to their spirit of
nationahty. " You know, Sir, (said he,) that no
Scotchman pubhshes a book, or has a play brought
upon the stage, but there are five hundred people
ready to applaud him/'
He gave much praise to his friend. Dr. Burney's
elegant and entertaining travels, and told Mr. Seward
that he had them in his eye, when writing his '• Jour-
ney to the Western Islands of Scotland."
Such was his sensibility, and so much was he affect-
ed by pathetick poetry, that, when he was reading Dr.
Beattie's " Hermit," in my presence, it brought tears
into his eyes.^
He disapproved much of mingling real facts with
fiction. On this account he censured a book entitled
" Love and Madness."
Mr. Hoole told him, he was born in Moorfields, and
had received part of his early instruction in Grub-
street. " Sir, (said Johnson, smiling) you have been
regularlij educated," Having asked who was his in-
structor, and Mr. Hoole having answered, " My uncle.
Sir, who was a taylor ;" Johnson, recollecting himself,
said, " Sir, I knew him ; we called him the metaphys-
ical taiflor. He was of a club in Old-street, with me
and George Psalmanazar, and some others : but pray,
Sir, was he a good taylor V Mr. Hoole having answer-
ed that he believed he was too mathematical, and used
to draw squares and triangles on his shop-board, so
that he did not excel in the cut of a coat ;" — " I am
sorry for it (said Johnson,) for I would have every man
to be master of his own business."
In pleasant reference to himself and Mr. Hoole, as
' [The particular passage which excited this strong emotion, was, as I have heard'
'>oin my father, the third stanza, « 'Tis night," &c. J. B.— O.l
296 THE LIFE OF
1783. brother authours, he often said, " Let you and I, Sir,
Mut S^ together, and eat a beet-steak in Grub-street/'
74. * Sir William Chambers, that great Architect' whose
works shew a sublimity of genius, and who is esteemed
by all who know hira, for his social, hospitable, and
generous qualities, submitted the manuscript of his
" Chinese Architecture," to Dr. Johnson's perusal.
Johnson was much pleased with it, and said, " It wants
no addition nor correction, but a few lines of introduc-
tion ;" which he furnished, and Sir William adopted.*
He said to Sir William Scott, " The age is running
mad after innovation ; and all the business of the world
is to be done in a new way ; men are to be hanged in
a new way ; Tyburn itself is not safe from the fury of
innovation." It having been argued that this was an
improvement. — "No, Sir, (said he, eagerly,) his not an
improvement ; they object, that the old method drew
together a number of spectators. Sir, executions are
intended to draw spectators. If they do not draw spec-
tators, they don't answer their purpose. The old method
was most satisfactory to all parties ; the publick was
gratified by a procession ; the criminal was supported
by it. Why is all this to be swept away ?" I perfectly
agree with Dr. Johnson upon this head, and am per-
suaded that executions now, the solemn procession be-
ing discontinued, have not nearly the effect which they
formerly had. Magistrates both in London, and else-
where, have, I am afraid, in this, had too much regard
to their own ease.
' Tlie Honourable Horace Walpole, late Earl of Oxford, thus bears testimony to
this gentleman's merit as a writer: Mr. Chambers's ' Treatise on Civil Architecture,'
is the most sensible book, and the most exempt from prejudices, that ever was writ-
ten on that science. — Preface to " Anecdotes of Painting in England."
- The introductory lines are these : " It is difficult to avoid praising too little or
too much. The boundless panegyricks which have been lavished upon the Chinese
learning, policy, and arts, shew with what power novelty attracts regard, and how
naturally esteem swells into admiration.
" I am far from desiring to be numbered among the exaggerators of Chinese
excellence. 1 consider them as great, or wise, only in comparison with the nations
that surround them ; and have no intention to place them in competition either
with the ancients or with the moderns of this part of the world ; yet they must be
allowed to claim our notice as a distinct and very singular race of men : as the
inhabitants of a region divided by its situation from all civilized countries, who
have formed their own manners, and invented their own art5, v/ithout the assist-
ance of example."
DR. JOHNSON. 997
Of Dr. Hurd, Bishop of Worcester, Johnson said to i783.
a friend, — " Hurd, Sir, is one of a set of men who ac- ^J^
" count for every thing systematically ; for instance, it 74. '
" has been a fashion to wear scarlet breeches ; these
" men would tell you, that according to causes and ef-
" fects, no other wear could at that time have been
" chosen." He, however, said of him at another time
to the same gentleman, " Hurd, Sir, is a man whose
" acquaintance is a valuable acquisition."
That learned and ingenious Prelate it is well known
published at one period of his life " Moral and Political
Dialogues," with a woefully whiggish cast. Afterwards,
his Lordship having thought better, came to see hiser-
rour, and republished the work with a more constitu-
tional spirit. Johnson, however, was unwilling to al-
low him full credit for his political conversion. I re-
member when his Lordship dechned the honour of be-
ing Archbishop of Canterbury, Johnson said " I am
glad he did not go to Lambeth ; for, after all, I fear he
is a Whig in his heart."
Johnson's attention to precision and clearness in ex-
pression was very remarkable. He disapproved of a
parenthesis ; and I believe in all his voluminous writ-
ings, not half a dozen of them will be found. He never
used the phrases the former and the latter^ having ob-
served, that they often occasioned obscurity ; he there-
fore contrived to construct his sentences so as not to
have occasion for them, and would even rather repeat
the same words, in order to avoid them. Nothing is
more common than to mistake surnames, when we hear
them carelessly uttered for the first time. To prevent
this, he used not only to pronounce them slowly and
distinctly, but to take the trouble of spelling them ; a
practice which I have often followed ; and which 1 wish
were general.
Such was the heat and irritability of his blood, that
not only did he pare his nails to the quick ; but scrap-
ed the joints of his fingers with a pen-knife, till they
seemed quite red and raw.
The heterogeneous composition of human nature was
remarkably exemplified in Johnson. His liberality in
VOL. III. 38
298 THE LIFE OP
1783. giving his money to persons in distress was extraordi-
^^J^ nary. Yet there lurked about him a propensity to pal-
74. try saving. One day 1 owned to him that " I was oc-
casionally troubled with a fit of narrowness" ' Why,
Sir, (said he,) so am I. But I do not tell it* He has
now and then borrowed a shilling of me ; and when I
asked him for it again, seemed to be rather out of hu-
mour. A droll little circumstance once occurred : As
if he meant to reprimand my minute exactness as a
creditor, he thus addressed me ; — " Boswell, lend me
sixpence — not to be repaid."
This great man's attention to small things was very
remarkable. As an instance of it, he one day said to
me, " Sir, when you get silver in change for a guinea,
look carefully at it ; you may find some curious piece
of coin."
Though a stern true-born Englishman, and fully preju-
diced against all other nations, he had discernment
enough to see, and candour enough to censure, the
cold reserve too common among Englishmen towards
strangers : " Sir, (said he,) two men of any other nation
who are shewn into a room together, at a house where
they are both visitors, will immediately find some con-
versation. But two Englishmen will probably go each
to a different window, and remain in obstinate silence.
Sir, we as yet do not enough understand the common
rights of humanity."
Johnson was at a certain period of his life a good
deal with the E'arl of Shelburne, now Marquis of Lans-
down, as he doubtless could not but have a due value
for that nobleman's activity of mind, and uncommon
acquisitions of important knowledge, however much
he might disapprove of other parts of his Lordship's
character, which were widely different from his own.
Morice Morgann, Esq. authour of the very inge-
nious " Essay on the character of Falstaff,"^ being a
particular friend of his Lordship, had once an oppor-
tunity of entertaining Johnson for a day or two at Wy-
' Johnson being asked his opinion of this Essay, answered, " Why, Sir, we shall
have the man come forth again ; and as he has proved Falstaff to be tto coward, he
may prove lago to be a very good character."
DR. JOHNSON. 299
Combe, when its Lord was absent, and by him I have i783.
been favoured with two anecdotes. ^^
One is not a Httle to the credit of Johnson's can- 74.
dour. Mr. Morgann and he had a dispute pretty late
at night, in which Johnson would not give up, though
he had the wrong side, and in short, both kept the
field. Next morning, when they met in the break-
fasting-room. Dr. Johnson accosted Mr. Morgann thus:
" Sir, I have been thinking on our dispute last night —
You ZQ!ere in the right"
The other was as follows : Johnson, for sport per-
haps, or from the spirit of contradiction, eagerly
maintained that Derrick had merit as a writer. Mr.
Morgann argued with him directly, in vain. At
length he had recourse to this device. " Pray, Sir,
(said he,) whether do you reckon Derrick or Smart the
best poet ?" Johnson at once felt himself roused ;
and answered, " Sir, there is no settling the point of
precedency between a louse and a flea."
Once, when checking my boasting too frequently
of myself in company, he said to me, " Boswell, you
often vaunt so much as to provoke ridicule. You put
nie in mind of a man who was standing in the kitchen
of an inn with his back to the fire, and thus accosted
the person next him, ' Do you know. Sir, who I am V
^ No, Sir, (said the other,) 1 have not that advantage.*
' Sir, (said he,) I am the gi^eat Twalmley, who in-
vented the New Floodgate Iron."* The Bishop of
Killaloe, on my repeating the story to him, defended
Twalmley, by observing that he was entitled to the
epithet oi great ; for Virgil in his group of worthies in
the Elysian fields —
Hie manus oh pair cam pugnando vulnera passi ; &c.
mentions
Inventas aut qui vitam excoluere per artes.
He was pleased to say to me one morning when we
were left alone in his study, " Boswell, I think, I am
easier with you than with almost any body."
■•What the great Twalmley was so proud of having invented, was neither
more or less than a kind of box-iron for smoothing linen.
300 THE LIFE OP
1783. He would not allow Mr. David Hume any credit
25';^ f'^r his political principles, though similar to his own ;
74 Sci^-ing of him, " Sir, he was a Tory, by chance."
His acute observation of human life made him re-
mark, *' Sir, there is nothing by which a man exasper-
ates most people more, than by displaying a superiour
ability of brilliancy in conversation. They seem
pleased at the time ; but their envy makes them curse
him at their hearts."
My readers will probably be surprised to hear that
the oreat Dr. Johnson could amuse himself with so
o
slight and playful a species of composition as a Chu'
rade. 1 have recovered one which he made on Dr.
Barnard^ now Lord Bishop of Killaloe ;^ who has
been pleased for many years to treat me with so much
intimacy and social ease, that 1 may presume to call
him not only my Right Reverend, but my very dear
Friend. 1 therefore with peculiar pleasure give to the
world a just and elegant compliment thus paid to his
Lordship by Johnson.
Charade.
" My firsf^ shuts out thieves from your house or your
room,
" My second'' expresses a Syrian perfume.
" My zvhole^ is a man in whose converse is sharM,
" The strength of a Bar and the sweetness of Nard."
Johnson asked Richard Owen Cambridge, Esq. if
he had read the Spanish translation of Sallust, said to
be written by a Prince of Spain, with the assistance of
his tutor, who is professedly the authour of a treatise
annexed, on the Phoenician language.
Mr. Cambridge commended the work, particularly
as he thought the Translator understood his authour
better than is commonly the case with Translators ;
but said, he was disappointed in the purpose for which
he borrowed the book ; to see whether a Spaniard
could be better furnished with inscriptions from mon-
■• [Afterwards translated to the see of Limerick. M.]
' Bar. ? Nard. f Barnard.
DR. JOHNSON. 301
uments, coins, or other antiquities, which he might i783.
more probably find on a coast, so immediately oppo- ^^
site to Carthage, than the Antiquaries of other coun- 74. '
tries. Johnson. " I am very sorry you were not grat-
ified in your expectations." Cambridge. " The
language would have been of little use, as there is no
history existing in that tongue to balance the partial
accounts which the Roman writers have left us."
Johnson. " No, Sir. They have not been partial^
they have told their own story, without shame or re-
gard to equitable treatment of their injured enemy ;
they had no compunction, no feeling for a Carthagin-
ian. Why, Sir, they would never have borne VirgiPs
description of vEneas's treatment of Dido, if she had
not been a Carthaginian."
I gratefully acknowledge this and other communi-
cations from Mr. Cambridge, whom, if a beautiful villa
on the banks of the Thames, a few miles distant from
London, a numerous and excellent library, which he
accurately knows and reads, a choice collection of pic-
tures, which he understands and relishes, an easy
fortune, an amiable family, an extensive circle of friends
and acquaintance, distinguished by rank, fashion and
genius, a literary fame, various elegant and still increas-
ing, colloquial talents rarely to be found, and with all
these means of happiness, enjoying, when well advanc-
ed in years, health and vigour of body, serenity and
animation of mind, do not entitle to be addressedybr-
tunate senex ! I know not to whom, in any age, that
expression could with propriety have been used. Long
may he live to hear and to feel it !'
Johnson's love of little children, which he discovered
upon all occasions, calling them, " pretty dears," and
giving them sweetmeats, was an undoubted proof of
the real humanity and gentleness of his disposition.
His uncommon kindness to his servants, and serious
concern, not only for their comfort in this world, but
their happiness in the next, was another unquestion-
' [Mr. Cambridge enjoyed all the blessings here enumerated for many years af-
ter this passage was written. He died at his seat near Twickenhamj Sept. 17,1 802,
in his eighty-sixth year. M.]
302 THE LIFE OF
1783. able evidence of what all, who were intimately ac^
^J^ quainted with him, knew to be true.
74, Nor would it be just under this head, to omit the
fondness which he shewed for animals which he had
taken under his protection. I never shall forget the
indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat : for
whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters, lest
the servants having that trouble should take a dislike
to the poor creature. 1 am, unluckily one of those
who have an antipathy to a cat, so that I am uneasy
when in the room with one ; and I own, I frequently
suffered a good deal from the presence of this same
Hodge. I recollect him one day scrambling up Dr.
Johnson's breast, apparently with much satisfaction,
while my friend smiling and half-whistling, rubbed
down his back, and pulled him by the tail ; and when
I observed he was a fine cat, saying " why, yes. Sir,
but I have had cats whom 1 liked better than this ;"
and then as if perceiving Hodge to be out of counte-
nance, adding, " but he is a very fine cat, a very fine
cat indeed."
This reminds me of the ludicrous account which
he gave Mr. Langton, of the despicable state of a
young gentleman of good family. " Sir, when I heard
of him last, he was running about town shooting cats."
And then in a sort of kindly reverie, he bethought
himself of his own favourite cat, and said, " But
Hodge shan't be shot : no, no, Hodge shall not be shot."
He thought Mr. Beauclerk made a shrewd and judi-
cious remark to Mr. Langton, who, after having been
for the first time in company with a well known wit
about town, was warmly admiring and praising him,
"See him again," said Beauclerk.
His respect for the Hierarchy, and particularly the
Dignitaries of the Church, has been more than once
exhibited in the course of this work. Mr. Seward
saw him presented to the Archbishop of York, and
described his Bow to an Arch-Bishop, as such a stud-
ied elaboration of homage, such an extension of limb,
such a flexion of body, as have seldom or ever been
equalled.
DR. JOHNSON. 303
I cannot help mentioning with much regret, that by nss.
my own negligence 1 lost an opportunity of having the ^^^
history of my family from its founder Thomas Boswell, 74.
in 1504, recorded and illustrated by Johnson's pen.
Such was his goodriess to me, that when 1 presumed
to solicit him for so great a favour, he was pleased to
say, " Let me have all the materials you can collect,
and I will do it both in Latin and English ; then let it
be printed, and copies of it be deposited in various
places for security and preservation/' 1 can now only
do the best 1 can to make up for this loss, keeping my
great Master steadily in view. Family histories, Hke
the imagines majorum of the ancients, excite to virrue;
and 1 wish that they who really have blood, would be
more careful to trace and ascertain its course. Some
have affected to laugh at the history of the house of
Yvery:' it would be well if many others would trans-
mit their pedigrees to posterity, with the same accura-
cy and generous zeal, with which the Noble Lord who
compiled that work has honoured and perpetuated his
ancestry.
On Thursday, April 10, I introduced to him, at his
house in Bolt-court, the Honourable and Reverend
William Stuart,^ son of the Earl of Bute ; a gentleman
truly worthy of being known to Johnson ; being, with
all the advantages of high birth, learning, travel, and
elegant manners, an exemplary parish priest in every
respect.
After some compliments on both sides, the tour
which Johnson and 1 had made to the Hebrides was
mentioned. — Johnson. " 1 got an acquisition of more
ideas by it than by any thing that 1 remember. 1 savir
quite a different system of life." Boswell. "\ou
would not like to make the same journey again \"
Johnson. " Why no, Sir; not the same : it is a tale
told. Gravina, an Italian critick, observes, that every
man desires to see that of which he has read ; but no
' [Written by John, Earl of Egmont. M.]
2 [At that time Vicar of Luton in Bedfordshire, where he lived for some years,
and fully merited the character given of him in the text ; now [1806] Lord Arch-
bishop of Armagh, and Primate of Ireland. M.]
30 1< THE LIFE OF
1783. man desires to read an account of what he has seen :
2J^. so much does description fall short of reality. Descrip-
7 4. tion only excites curiosity: seeing satisfies it. Other
people may go and see the Hebrides." Boswell.
" I should wish to go and see some country totally
different from what I have been used to ; such as Tur-
key, where religion and every thing else are different."
Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; there are two objects of curios-
ity,— the Christian world, and the Mahometan world.
All the rest may be considered as barbarous." Bos-
well. "Pray, Sir, is the 'Turkish Spy' a genuine
book?" Johnson. " No, Sir. Mrs. Manley, in her
Life, says, that her father wrote the first two volumes :
and in another book, ' Dunton's Life and Errours,' we
find that the rest was written by one Sault^ at two
guineas a sheet* under the direction of Dr. Midgeley."^
Boswell. " This has been a very factious reign,
owing to the too great indulgence of Government."
Johnson. " /think so, Sir. What at first was lenity,
grew timidity. Yet this is reasoning d posteriori^ and
may not be just. Supposing a few had at first been
punished, I believe faction would have been crushed ;
but it might have been said, that it was a sanguinary
reign. A man cannot tell d pt^iori what will be best
for government to do. This reign has been very unfor-
tunate. We have had an unsuccessful war ; but that
does not prove that we have been ill governed. One
side or other must prevail in war, as one or other must
win at play. When we beat Louis, we were not better
governed ; nor were the French better governed, when
Louis beat us."
On Saturday, April 12, I visited him, in company
with Mr. Windham, of Norfolk, whom, though a Whig,
he highly valued. One of the best things he ever said
was to this gentleman ; who before he set out for Ire-
3 [" The Turkish Spy," was pretended to have been written originally in Arabiclc ;
from Arabick translated into Italian, and thence into English. The real authour of
the work, which was in fact originally written in Italian, was I. P. Marana, a Gen-
oese, who died at Paris in 1693.
John Dunton in his Ufe says, that "Mr. IVilUam Bradshaiu received from Dr
Midgeley forty shillings a sheet for writing part of the " Turkish Spy ;" but I do
not find that he any where mentions Sault as engaged in that work. M.l
DR. JOHNSON. 30^
land as Secretary to Lord Northington, when Lord 1783.
Lieutenant, expressed to the Sage some modest and j^^^
virtuous doubts, whether he could bring himself to 74.
practise those arts which it is supposed a person in
that situation has occasion to employ. " Don't be
afraid, Sir, (said Johnson, with a pleasant smile,) you
will soon make a very pretty rascal."
He talked to-day a good deal of the wonderful
extent and variety of London, and observed, that men
of curious enquiry might see in it such modes of life
as very few could even imagine. He in particular rec-
ommended to us to explore fVapping, which we resolv-
ed to do.*
Mr. Lowe, the painter, who was with him, was very
much distressed that a large picture which he had
painted was refused to be received into the Exhibition
of the Royal Academy. Mrs. Thrale knew Johnson's
character so superficially, as to represent him as unwil-
ling to do small acts of benevolence ; and mentions, in
particular, that he would hardly take the trouble to
write a letter in favour of his friends. The truth, how-
ever, is, that he was remarkable, in an extraordinary
degree, for what she denies to him ; and, above all, for
this very sort of kindness, writing letters for those to
whom his solicitations might be of service. He now
gave Mr. Lowe the following, of which 1 was diligent
enough, with his permission, to take copies at the next
coffee-house, while Mr. Windham was so good as to
stay by me.
" TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
" SIR,
" Mr. Lowe considers himself as cut off from aU
credit and all hope, by the rejection of his picture from
the Exhibition. Upon this work he has exhausted all
his powers, and suspended all his expectations : and,
" We accordingly carried our scheme into execution, in October, 1 792 ; but
whether from that uniformity which has in modern times, in a great degree, spread
through every part of the metropolis, or from our want of sufficient exertion, vfp
were disappointed.
VOL. TIT, 89
306 THE LIFE OF
1783. certainly, to be refused an opportunity of taking the
>Etat^ ^P'"'^" of the puhlick, is in itself a very great hard-
74. ship. It is to be condemned without a trial.
" If you could procure the revocation of this inca-
pacitating edict, you would dehver an unhappy man
from great affliction. The Council has sometimes re-
versed its own determination ; and 1 hope, that by your
interposition this luckless picture may be got admitted.
1 am, &c.
" April 12, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO MR. BARRY.
" SIR,
" Mr. Lowers exclusion from the exhibition gives
him more trouble than you and the other gentlemen
of the Council could imagine or intend. He considers
disgrace and ruin as the inevitable consequence of
your determination.
" He says, that some pictures have been received
after rejection ; and if there be any such precedent, 1
earnestly intreat that you will use your interest in his
favour. Of his work 1 can say nothing ; 1 pretend not
to judge of painting ; and this picture 1 never saw :
but 1 conceive it extremely hard to shut out any man
from the possibility of success ; and therefore i repeat
my request that you will propose the re-consideration
of Mr. Lowe's case ; and if there be any among the
Council with whom my name can have any weight, be
pleased to communicate to them the desire of, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" April 12, 1783. " Sam. Johnson.'
)i
Such intercession was too powerful to be resisted ;
and Mr. Lowe's performance was admitted at Somerset
Place. The subject, as I recollect, was the Deluge, at
that point of time when the water was verging to the
top of the last uncovered mountain. Near to the spot
was seen the last of the antediluvian race, exclusive of
those who were saved in the ark of Noah. This was
one of those giants, then the inhabitants of the earth,
DR. JOHNSON. 307
who bad still strength to swim, and with one of his '783.
hands held aloft his infant child. Upon the small re- ^^
maining dry spot appeared a famished lion, ready to 74.
spring at the child and devour it. Mr. Lowe told me
that Johnson said to him, " Sir, your picture is noble
and probable." — " A compliment, indeed, (said Mr.
Lowe,) from a man who cannot lie, and cannot be mis-
taken."
About this time he wrote to Mrs. Lucy Porter, men-
tioning his bad health, and that he intended a visit to
Lichfield. " It is, (says he,) with no great expectation
of amendment that I make every year a journey into
the country ; but it is pleasant to visit those whose
kindness has been often experienced."
On April 18, (being Good-Friday) I found him at
- breakfast, in his usual manner upon that day, drinking
tea without milk, and eating a cross bun to prevent
faintness ; we went to St. Clement's church, as for-
merly. When we came home from church, he placed
himself on one of the stone-seats at his garden door,
and I took the other, and thus in the open air and in a
placid frame of mind, he talked away very easily. John-
son. " Were I a country gentleman, I should not be
ve?y hospitable, I should not have crowds in my house."
BoswELL. " Sir Alexander Dick tells me, that he re-
members having a thousand people in a year to dine at
his house ; that is, reckoning each person as one, each
time that he dined there." Johnson. " That, Sir, is
about three a day." Boswell. " How your statement
lessens the idea." Johnson. " That, Sir, is the good
of counting. It brings every thing to a certainty, which
before floated in the mind indefinitely." Boswell.
" But Omne ignotum pro magmjico est : one is sorry to
have this diminished." Johnson. " Sir, you should
not allow yourself to be delighted with errour." Bos-
well. "Three a day seem but few." Johnson. " Nay,
Sir, he who entertains three a day, does very liberally.
And if there is a large family, the poor entertain those
three, for they eat what the poor would get : there must
be superfluous meat ; it must be given to the poor, or
thrown out." Boswell. " 1 observe in London, that
30S THE LIFE OF
1783. the j30or go about and gather bones, which I understand
j£f^ are manufactured. Johnson. "Yes, Sir; they boil
74. them, and extract a grease from them forgreasing wheels
and other purposes. Of the best pieces they make a
mock ivory, which is used for hafts to knives, and vari-
ous other things ; the coarser pieces they burn and
pound, and selJ the ashes." Bos well. " For, what
purpose, Sir?" Johnson. " Why, Sir, for making a fur-
nace for the chemists for melting iron. A paste made
of burnt bones will stand a strf>nger heat than any thing
else. Consider, Sir ; if you are to melt iron, you can-
not line your pot with brass, because it is softer than
iron, and would melt sooner ; nor with iron, for though
malleable iron is harder than cast iron, yet it would not
do ; but a paste of burnt-bones will not melt. Boswell.
^' Do you know, Sir, 1 have discovered a manufacture to
a great extent, of what you only piddle at, — scraping
and drying the peel of oranges.^ At a place in New-
gate-street, there is a prodigious quantity prepared,
which they sell to the distillers." Johnson. " Sir, 1 be-
lieve they make a higher thing out of them than a spirit ;
they make what is called orange-butter, the oil of the
orange inspissated, which they mix perhaps with com-
mon pomatum, and make it flagrant. The oil doesribt
flv off in the drvinff."
Boswell. " I wish to have a good walled garden."
Johnson. " 1 don't think it would be worth the ex-
pence to you. We compute in England, a park-wall at
a thousand pounds a mile ; now a garden-wall must
cost at least as much. You intend your trees should
grow higher than a dear will leap. Now let us see ; —
for a hundred pounds you could only have forty-four
square yards, which is very little ; for two hundred
pounds, you may have eighty-four square yards, which
is very well. But when will you get the value of two
hundred pounds of walls, in fruit, in your climate? No,
Sir, such contention with Nature is not worth while.
'' It is suggested to me by an anonymous Annotalor on my work, that the rea-
son why Dr. Johnson collected the peels of squeezed oranges, may be found, in the
3.58th Letter in Mrs. Piozzi's Collection, where it appears that he recommended
'• driqid orange-peel, finely powdered," as a medicine .
DR. JOHNSON. 309
I would plant an orchard, and have plenty of such fruit '783.
as ripen well in your country. My friend. Dr. Madden, ^^^
of Ireland, said, that, ' in an orchard there should be 74. *
enough to eat, enough to lay up, enough to be stolen,
and enough to rot upon the ground.' Cherries are an
early fruit, you may have them ; and you may have the
early apples and pears.'' Bos well. " We cannot have
nonpareils." — Johnson. "Sir, you can no more have
nonpareils than you can have grapes." Boswell. " We
have them, Sir ; but they are very bad." Johnson.
" Nay, Sir, never try to have a thing merely to shew
that you cannot have it. From ground that would let
for forty shillings you may have a large orchard ; and
you see it costs you only forty shillings. Nay, you
may graze the ground when the trees are grown up ;
you cannot, while they are young." Bosavell. "Is
not a good garden a very common thing in England,
Sir!" Johnson. "Not so common. Sir, as you imagine.
In Lincolnshire there is hardly an orchard; in Stafford-
shire very little fruit." Boswell. " Has Langton no
orchard?" Johnson. " No, Sir." Boswell. " Hov/
so. Sir?" Johnson. "Why, Sir, from the general neg-
ligence of the county. He has it not, because nobody
else has it." Boswell. " A hot-house is a certain
thing; I may have that." Johnson. "A hot-house is
pretty certain ; but you must first build it, then you
must keep fires in it, and you must have a gardener to
take care of it." Boswell. " But if I have a gardener
at any rate?" — Johnson. "Why, yes." Boswell.
" I'd have it near my house ; there is no need to have
it in the orchard." Johnson. " Yes, I'd have it near
my house. — 1 would plant a great many currants ; the
fruit is good, and they make a pretty sweetmeat."
I record this minute detail, which some may think
trifling, in order to shew clearly how this great man,
whose mind could grasp such large and extensive sub-
jects, as he has shewn in his literary labours, was yet
well-informed in the common affairs of life, and loved
to illustrate them.
Mr. Walker, the celebrated master of elocution,
came in, and then we went up stairs into the study. I
310 THE LIFE OP
1783. asked him if he had taught many clergymen. Johnson.
^^'j^ " I hope not." V¥alker. " 1 have taught only one,
74. and he is the best reader I ever heard, not by my
teaching, but by his own natural talents." Johnson.
" Were he the best reader in the world, I would not
have it told that he was taught." Here was one of his
peculiar prejudices. Could it be any disadvantage to
the clergyman to have it known that he was taught an
easy and graceful delivery ? Boswell. " Will you
not allow, Sir, that a man may be taught to read well ?"
Johnson. " Why, Sir, so far as to read better than he
might do without being taught, yes. Formerly it was
supposed that there was no difference in reading, but
that one read as well as another." Boswell. " it is
wonderful to see old Sheridan as enthusiastick about
oratory as ever." Walker. " His enthusiasm as to
what oratory will do, may be too great : but he reads
well." Johnson. " He reads well, but he reads low ;
and you know it is much easier to read low than to
read high ; for when you read high, you are much
more limited, your loudest note can be but one, and so
the variety is less in proportion to the loudness. Now
some people have occasion to speak to an extensive
audience, and must speak loud to be heard." Walker.
" The art is to read strong, though low."
Talking of the origin of language ; — Johnson. " It
must have come by inspiration. A thousand, nay, a
million of children could not invent a language. While
the organs are pliable, there is not understanding
enough to form a language ; by the time that there is
understanding enough, the organs are become stiff.
We know that after a certain age we cannot learn to
pronounce a new language. No foreigner, who comes
to England when advanced in life, ever pronounces
English tolerably well ; at least such instances are very
rare. When I maintain that language must have come
by inspiration, I do not mean that inspiration is requir-
ed for rhetorick, and all the beauties of language ; for
when once man has language, we can conceive that
he may gradually form modifications of it. 1 mean
only that inspiration seems to me to be necessary to
DR. JOHNSON. 311
give man the faculty of speech ; to inform him that he i783.
may have speech ; which I think he could no more ^^
find out without inspiration, than cows or hogs would 74. '
think of such a faculty." Walker. " Do you think,
Sir, that there are any perfect synonimes in any lan-
guage ?" Johnson. " Originally there were not ; but
by using words negligently, or in poetry, one word
comes to be confounded with another."
He talked of Dr. Dodd. " A friend of mine, (said
he,) came to me and told me, that a lady wished to
have Dr. Dodd's picture in a bracelet, and asked me
for a motto. 1 said, 1 could think of no better than
Currat Lex. 1 was very willing to have him pardon-
ed, that is, to have the sentence changed to transporta-
tion : but, when he was once hanged, 1 did not wish
he should be made a saint."
Mrs. Burney, wife of his friend Dr. Burney, came in,
and he seemed to be entertained with her conversation.
Garrick's funeral was talked of as extravagantly ex-
pensive. Johnson, from his dislike to exaggeration,
would not allow that it was distinguished by any ex-
traordinary pomp. " Were there not six horses to each
coach ?" said Mrs. Burney. Johnson. " Madam,
there were no more six horses than six phoenixes."
Mrs. Burney wondered that some very beautiful new
buildings should be erected in Moorfields, in so shock-
ing a situation as between Bedlam and St. Luke's Hos-
pital ; and said she could not live there. Johnson.
" Nay, Madam, you see nothing there to hurt you.
You no more think of madness by having windows
that look to Bedlam, than you think of death by having
windows that look to a church-yard." Mrs. Burney.
" We may look to a church-yard. Sir ; for it is right
that we should be kept in mind of death." Johnson.
" Nay, Madam, if you go to that, it is right that we
should be kept in mind of madness, which is occasioned
by too much indulgence of imagination. I think a
very moral use may be made of these new buildings :
I would have those who have heated imaginations live
there, and take warning." Mrs. Burney. " But,
Sir, many of the poor people that are mad, have become
312 THE LIFE OF
1783. SO from disease, or from distressing events. It is,
^77 therefore, not their fault, but their misfortune ; and,
74. ' therefore, to think of them, is a melancholy consider-
ation."
Time passed on in conversation till it was too late
for the service of the church at three o'clock. 1 took
a walk, and left him alone for some time ; then re-
turned, and we had coffee and conversation again by
ourselves.
I stated the character of a noble friend of mine, as a
curious case for his opinion : — " He is the most inex-
plicable man to me that I ever knew. Can you explain
him, Sir ! He is, I really believe, noble-minded, gen-
erous, and princely. But his most intimate friends
may be separated from him for years, without his ever
asking a question concerning them. He will meet
them with a formality, a coldness, a stately indiffer-
ence ; but when they come close to him, and fairly
engage him in conversation, they find him as easy,
pleasant, and kind, as they could wish. One then
supposes that what is so agreeable will soon be renew-
ed ; but stay away from him for half a year, and he
will neither call on you, nor send to enquire about
you." Johnson. " Why, Sir, I cannot ascertain his
character exactly, as I do not know him ; but I should
not like to have such a man for my friend. He may
love study, and wish not to be interrupted by his
friends ; Amici fares temporis. He may be a frivolous
man, and be so much occupied with petty pursuits,
that he may not want friends. Or he may have a
notion that there is a dignity in appearing indifferent,
while he in fact may not be more indifferent at his
heart than another."
We went to evening prayers at St. Clement's, at
seven, and then parted.
On Sunday, April 20, being Easter-day, after attend-
ing solemn service at St. Paul's, 1 came to Dr. John-
son, and found Mr. Lowe, the painter, sitting with him.
Mr. Lowe mentioned the great number of new build-
ings of late in London, yet that Dr. .Johnson had
observed, that the number of inhabitants was not
DR. JOHNSON. 31S
increased. Johnson. " Why, Sir, the bills of mortal- '783.
ity prove that no more people die now than formerly ; £,x^
so it is plain no more live. The register of births 74.*
proves nothing, for not one tenth of the people of
London are born there." Boswell. " I believe, Sir,
a great many of the children born in London die early."
Johnson. "Why, yes. Sir." Boswell. "But those
who do live, are as stout and strong people as any :
Dr. Price says, they must be naturally strong to get
through." Johnson. " That is system, Sir. A great
traveller observes, that it is said there are no weak or
deformed people among the Indians ; but he with
much sagacity assigns the reason of this, which is, that
the hardship of their hfe as hunters and fishers, does
not allow weak or diseased children to grow up. Now-
had I been an Indian, I must have died early ; mv
eyes would not have served me to get food. 1 indeed
now could fish, give me English tackle ; but had I
been an Indian 1 must have starved, or they would
have knocked me on the head, when they saw I could
do nothing." Boswell. " Perhaps they would have
taken care of you ; we are told they are fond of ora-
tory, you would have talked to them." Johnson.
" Nay, Sir, I should not have lived long enough to be
fit to talk ; 1 should have been dead before 1 was ten
years old. Depend upon it. Sir, a savage, when he is
hungry, will not carry about with him a looby of nine
years old, who cannot help himself. They have no af-
fection, Sir." Boswell. " 1 believe natural affection,
of which we hear so much, is very small." Johnson.
" Sir, natural affection is nothing : but affection from
principle and established duty, is sometimes wonder-
fully strong." Lowe. " A hen, Sir, will feed her
chickens in preference to herself." Johnson. " But
we don't know that the hen is hungry ; let the hen be
fairly hungry, and I'll warrant she'll peck the corn her-
self. A cock, I believe, will feed hens instead of him-
self; but we don't know that the cock is hungry."
Boswell. " And that, Sir, is not from affection but
gallantry. But some of the Indians have affection "
Johnson. " Sir, that they help some of their children
VOL. III. 40
314 THE LTFK OF
1783. is plain ; for some of them live, which they could not
^J^ do without being helped."
74.* 1 dined with him ; the company were, Mrs. Wil-
liams, Mrs. Desmoulins, and Mr. Lowe. He seemed
not to be well, talked little, grew drowsy soon after
dinner, and retired, upon which 1 went away.
Having next day gone to Mr. Burke's seat in the
country, from whence I was recalled by an express,
that a near relation of mine had killed his antagonist
in a duel, and was himself dangerously wounded, 1 saw
little of Dr. Johnson till Monday, April 28, when I
spent a considerable part of the day with him, and in-
troduced the subject, which then chiefly occupied my
mind. Johnson. " I do not see, Sir, that fighting is
absolutely forbidden in Scripture ; 1 see revenge for-
bidden, but not self-defence." Boswell. " The Qua-
kers say it is ; ' Unto him that smiteth thee on one
cheek, offer him also the other." Johnson. " But
stay. Sir ; the text is meant only to have the effect of
moderating passion ; it is plain that we are not to take
it in a literal sense. We see this from the context,
where there are other recommendations, which 1 war-
rant you the Quaker will not take literally ; as, for
instance, ' From him that would borrow of thee, turn
thou not away.' Let a man whose credit is bad, come
to a Quaker, and say, ' Well, Sir, lend me a hundred
pounds ;' he'll find him as unwilling as any other man.
No, Sir, a man may shoot the man who invades his
character, as he may shoot him who attempts to break
into his house.' So in l74o, my friend, Tom Cum-
' I think it necessary to caution my readers against concluding that in this or
any other conversation of Dr. Johnson, they have his serious and deliberate opin-
ion on the subject of duelling. In my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3 edit,
p. 386, it appears that he made this frank confession : " Nobody at times, talks
more laxly than I do ;" and, ibid. p. 231. " He fairly owned he could not explain
the rationality of duelling." We may, therefore, infer, that he could not think
that justifiable, which seems so inconsistent with the spirit of the Gospel. At the
same time it must be confessed, that from the prevalent notions of honour, a gen-
tleman who receives a challenge is reduced to a dreadful alternative. A remarka-
ble instance of this is furnished by a clause in the will of the late Colonel Thomas,
of the Guards, written the night before he fell in a duel, September f5, 1783 : " In
the first place, I commit my soul to Almighty God, in hopes of his mercy and par-
don for the irreligious step I now (in compliance with the unwarrantable customs
of this wicked worldj put myself under the necessity of taking."
DR. JOHNSON. 315.
ming the Quaker, said he would not fight, but he J783.
would drive an ammunition cart ; and we know that ^^'^
the Quakers have sent flannel waistcoats to our sol- 74.
diers, to enable them to fight better." Boswell.
" When a man is the aggressor, and by ill-usage forces
on a duel in which he is killed, have we not little
ground to hope that he is gone to a state of happiness V
Johnson. " Sir, we are not to judge determinately of
the state in which a man leaves this life. He may in
a moment have repented effectually, and it is possible
may have been accepted of God. There is in ' Cam-
den's Remains,' an epitaph upon a very wicked man,
who was killed by a fall from his horse, in which he is
supposed to say,
" Between the stirrup and the ground,
" 1 mercy ask'd, i mercy found." «
Boswell. " Is not the expression in the Burial-service*
' in the sure and certain hope of a blessed resurrec-
tion ;' too strong to be used indiscriminately, and, in-
deed, sometimes when those over whose bodies it is
said, have been notoriously profane ]" Johnson. " It
is sure and certain hope^ Sir ; not be/ief." I did not
insist further ; but cannot help thinking that less pos-
itive words would be more proper. »
Talking of a man who was grown very fat, so as to
be incommoded with corpulency ; he said, " He eats
too much. Sir." Boswell. " 1 don't know, Sir, you
* [In repeatiog this epitaph Johnson improved it. The original run» thus :
" Betivixt the stirrup and the ground,
" Mercy I asked, mercy I found." M.]
' Upon this objection the Reverend Mr. Ralph Churton, Fellow of Brazennose
College, Oxford, has favoured me with the following satisfactory observation.
•* The passage in the Burial-service, does not mean the resurrection of the person
interred, but the general resurrection ; it is in sure and certain hope of the resur-
rection ; not his resurrection. Where the deceased is really spoken of, the expres-
sion is very different, " as our hope is this our brother doth," [rest in Christ] a
mode of speech consistent with every thing but absolute certainty that the person
departed doth not rest in Christ, which no one can be assured of, without immedi-
ate revelation from Heaven. In the first of these places also, " eternal liie" does ^
not necessarily mean eternity of bliss, but merely the eternity of the state, whether
in happiness or in misery, to ensue upon the resurrection ; which is probably the
sense of " the life everlasting," in the Apostles Creed. See Wheatly and Bennet
oji the Common Prayer."
516 THE LIFE OF
1783. will see one man fat who eats moderately, and another
^■^ lean who eats a great deal." Johnson. " Nay, Sir,
74 whatever may be the quantity that a man eats, it is
plain that if he is too fat, he has eaten more than he
should have done. One man may have a digestion
that consumes food better than common ; but it is
certain that solidity is encreased by putting something
to it." Bf>s\VELL. " But ma> not solids swell anck be
distended ?" Johnson. " Yes, Sir, they may sweUi
and be distended ; but that is not fat."
We talked of the accusation agamst a gentleman for
supposed delinquencies in India. Johnson. " What
foundati<^n there is for accusation I know not, but they
will not get at him. Where bad actions are commit-
ted at so great a distance, a delinquent can obscure the
evidence till the scent becomes cold ; there is a cloud
between which cannot be penetrated : therefore all
distant power is bad. I am clear that the best plan
for the government uf India is a despotick governour ;
for if he be a good man, it is evidently the best gov-
ernment ; and supposing him to be a bad man, it i*
better to have one }>lunderer than many. A govern-
our, whose power is checked, lets others plunder, that
he himself may be allowed to plunder ; but if despot-
ick, he sees that the more he lets others plunder, the
less there will be for himself, so he restrains them ;
and though he himself plunders, the country is a
gainer, compared with being plundered by numbers.'^
1 mentioned the very liberal payment which had
been received for reviewing ; and^ as evidence of this,
that it had been proved in a trial, that Dr. Shebbeare
had received six guineas a sheet for that kind of lit-
erary labour. Johnson. " Sir, he might get six guineas
for a particular sheet, but not communihus sJieetihusP'
BoswELL. " Pray, Sir, by a sheet of review is it meant
that it shall be all of the writer's own compositicm \ or
are extracts, made from the book reviewed, deducted."
Johnson. " No, Sir ; it is a sheet, no matter of what."
BoswELL. " 1 think that it is not reasonable." John-
son. " Yes, Sir, it is. A man will more easily write a
sheet all his own, than read an octavo volume to get
DR. JOHNSON. 317
extracts." To one of Johnson's wonderful fertility of 1783.
mind, i believe writing was really easier than reading '^^
and extracting ; but with ordinary men the case is 74.
very different. A great deal, indeed, will depend upon
the care and judgement with which extracts are made.
I can suppose the operation to be tedious and difficult;
but in many instances we must observe crude morsels
cut out of books as if at random ; and when a large
extract is made from one place, it surely may be done
with very little trouble. One, however, I must ac-
knowledge, might be led, from the practice of revieyv-
ers, to suppose that they take a pleasure in original
writing; for we often find, that instead of giving an
accurate account of what has been done by the authour
whose work they are reviewing, which is surely the
proper business of a literary journal, they produce some
plausible and ingenious conceits of their own, upon the
topicks which have been discussed.
Upon being told that old Mr. Sheridan, indignant
at the neglect of his oratorical plans, had threatened to
go to America ; — Johnson. " 1 hope he will go to
America." Boswell. " The Americans don't want
oratory." Johnson. " But we can want Sheridan."
On Monday, April 29, I found him at home in the
forenoon, and Mr. Seward with him. Horace having
been mentioned; — Boswell. "There is a great deal
of thinking in his works. One finds there almost every
thing but religion." Seward. " He speaks of his
returning to it, in his Ode Parous Deorum cultor et
infrequens" Johnson. "Sir, he was not in earnest;
this was merely poetical." Boswell. " There are, I
am afraid, many people who have no religion at all."
Seward. " And sensible people too." Johnson.
" Why, Sir, not sensible in that respect. There must
be either a natural or a moral stupidity, if one lives in
a total neglect of so very important a concern." Se-
ward. "1 wonder that there should be people without
religion." Johnson. " Sir, you need not wonder at
this, when you consider how large a proportion of
almost every man's life is passed without thinking of it.
I myself was for some years totally regardless of relig-
318 THE LIFE OP
1783. ion. It had dropped out of my mind. It was at an
2^J^ early part of my life. Sickness brought it back, and I
74. hope i have never lost it since." Boswell. " My
dear Sir, what a man must you have been without re-
ligion ! Why you must have gone on drinking, and
swearing, and — "Johnson, (with a smile) "I drank
enough and swore enough to be sure." Sewakd.
" One should think that sickness, and the view of death
would make more men religious." Johnson. " Sir,
they do not know how to go about it : they have not
the first notion. A man who has never had religion
before, no more grows religious when he is sick, than a
man who has never learnt figures can count when he
has need of calculation.
I mentioned a worthy friend of ours whom we valued
much, but observed that he was too ready to introduce
religious discourse upon all occasions. Johnson.
*' Why, yes, Sir, he will introduce religious discourse
without seeing whether it will end in instruction and
improvement, or produce some profane jest. He
would introduce it in the company of Wilkes, and
twenty more such."
1 mentioned Dr. Johnson's excellent distinction be-
tween liberty of conscience and liberty of teaching.
Johnson. "Consider, Sir; if you have children whom
you wish to educate in the principles of the Church of
England, and there comes a Quaker who tries to per-
vert them to his principles, you would drive away the
Quaker. You would not trust to the predomination of
right ; which you believe is in your opinions ; you will
keep wrong out of their heads. Now the vulgar are
the children of the Slate. If any one attempts to teach
them doctrines contrary to what the State approves, the
magistrates may and ought to restrain him." Seward.
" Would you restrain private conversation. Sir ?" John-
son. " Why, Sir, it is difficult to say where private con-
versation begins, and where it ends. If we three should
discuss even the great question concerning the exist-
ence of a Supreme Being by ourselves, we should not
be restrained ; for that would be to put an end to all
improvement. But if we should discuss it in the pres-
DR. JOHNSON. 319
ence of ten boarding-school girls, and as many boys, 1 '783.
think the magistrate would do well to put us in the ^^^
stocks, to finish the debate there." 74.
Lord Hailes had sent him a present of a curious little
printed poem, on repairing the University of Aberdeen,
by David Malloch^ which he thought would please
Johnson, as affording clear evidence that Mallet had
appeared even as a literary character by the name of
Malloch ; his changing which to one of softer sound,
had given Johnson occasion to introduce him into his
Dictionary, under the article Alius. ^ I his piece was,
I suppose, one of Mallet's first essays. It is preserved
in his works, with several variations. Johnson having
read aloud, from the beginning of it, where there were
some common-place assertions as to the superiority of
ancient times ; — " How false (said he) is all this, to say
that in ancient times learning was not a disgrace to a
Peer as it is now. In ancient times a Peer was as ig-
norant as any one else. He would have been angry
to have it thought he could write his name. Men in
ancient times dared to stand forth with a degree of ig-
norance with which nobody would dare now to stand
forth. 1 am always angry, when I hear ancient times
praised at the expence of modern times. There is now
a great deal more learning in the world than there was
formerly ; for it is universally diffused. You have, per-
haps, no man who knows as much Greek and Latin as
Bentley ; no man who knows as much mathematicks as
Newton : but you may have many more men who
know Greek and Latin, and who know mathematicks."
On Thursday, May 1, 1 visited him in the evening
along with young Mr. Burke. He said, " It is strange
' [Malloch, as Mr. Bindley observes to me, " continued to write his name thus,
after be came to London. His verses prefixed to the second edition of Thomson's
' Winter' are so subscribed, and so are his Letters written in London, and pub-
lished a few years ago in ' the European Magazine ;' but he soon afterwards
adopted the alteration to Mallet, for he is so called in the list of Subscribers to
Savage's Miscellanies printed in 1726 ; and thenceforward uniformly Mallet, in
all his writings." M.]
[A notion has been entertained, that no such exemplification of Alias is to be
found in Johnson's Dictionary, and that the whole story was waggishly fabricated
by Wilkes in the North Britain. The real fact is, that it is not to be found in
the Folio, or Quarto editions, but was added by Johnson in lys ©wn Octa-vt Abridge-
ment, in 1756. J, B.~0.1
B^O THE LIFE OP
1783. that there should be so Httle reading in the world, and
so much writing. People in general do not willingly
read, if they can have any thing else to amuse them.
There must be an external impulse ; emulation, or van-
ity, or avarice. The progress which the understanding
makes through a book, has more pain than pleasure in
it. Language is scanty, and inadequate to express the
nice gradations and mixtures of our feelings. No man
reads a book of science from pure inclination. The
books that we do read with pleasure are light composi-
tions, which contain a quick succession of events.
However, I have this year read all Virgil through. I
read a book of the Mna'id every night, so it was done
in twelve nights, and I had a great delight in it. The
Georgicks did not give me so much pleasure, except
the fourth book. The Eclogues I have almost all by
heart. I do not think the story of the i^neid interest*
ing. I like the story of the Odyssey much better ; and
this not on account of the wonderful things which it
contains ; for there are wonderful things enough in the
iEneid ; — the ships of the Trojans turned to sea-
nymphs, — the tree at Polydorus's tomb dropping blood.
The story of the Odyssey is interesting, as a great part
of it is domestick. — It has been said, there is pleasure
in writing, particularly in writing verses. 1 allow, you
may have pleasure from writing, after it is over, if you
have written well ;^ but you don't go willingly to it
again. 1 know when I have been -writing verses, 1 have
run my finger down the margin, to see how many 1 had
made, and how few 1 had to make."
He seemed to be in a very placid humour, and al-
though I have no note of the particulars of young Mr.
Burke's conversation, it is but justice to mention in gen-
eral, that it was such that Dr. Johnson said to me after-
wards, " He did very well indeed ; 1 have a mind to
tell his father.
2 [Dum piDgit, fruitur arte ; postquam pmxerat, fruitur fructuartis. SzvrtCA.
K.1
DR. JOHNSON. 321
1783.
" TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. ^-^-w
^' DEAR SIR, ^4
" The gentleman who waits on you with this, is
Mr. Cruikshanks, who wishes to succeed his friend Dr.
Hunter, as professor of Anatomy in the Royal Academy.
His qualifications are very generally known, and it adds
dignity to the institution that such men^ are candidates.
I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" ^% 2, 1783. " Sam. Johnson.'^
I have no minute of any interview with Johnson till
Thursday, May 15th, when 1 find what follows: Bos-
well. " 1 wish much to be in Parhament, Sir."
Johnson. " Why, Sir, unless you come resolved to
support any administration, you would be the worse
for being in Parliament, because you would be obliged
to live more expensively." Boswell. " Perhaps, Sir,
I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I
never would sell my vote, and I should be vexed if
things went wrong." Johnson. " That's cant, Sir. It
would not vex you more in the house, than in the gal-
lery : publick affairs vex no man." Boswell. " Have
not they vexed yourself a little, Sir 1 Have not you
been vexed by all the turbulence of this reign, and by
that absurd vote of the House of Commons, ' That
the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing,
and ought to be diminished ?" Johnson. " Sir, I have
never slept an hour less, nor eat an ounce less meat.
I would have knocked the factious dogs on the head,
to be sure ; but I was not vexed" Boswell. " I de-
clare. Sir, upon my honour, I did imagine I was vexed,
and took a pride in it ; but it zo^as^ perhaps, cant ; for I
own I neither eat less, nor slept less." Johnson.
" My dear friend, clear your mind of cant. You may
talk as other people do : you may say to a man, ' Sir,
I am your most humble servant.' You are not his
most humble servant. You may say, ' These are bad
' Let it be remembered by those who accuse Dr. Johnson of iUiberality, th«
both were ScoUhmen,
VOL, IIT, 41
322 THE LIFE OF
1783. times ; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to such
^J^ times/ You don't mind the times. You tell a man,
74. ' 1 am sorry you had such bad weather the last day of
your journey, and were so much wet.* You don't care
six-pence whether he is wet or dry. You may talk
in this manner ; it is a mode of talking in Society :
but don't think foolishly."
1 talked of living in the country. Johnson. " Don't
set up for what is called hospitality : it is a waste of
time, and a waste of money ; you are eaten up, and
not the more respected for your liberality. If your
house be like an inn, nobody cares for you. A man
who stays a week with another, makes him a slave for
a week." Boswell. " But there are people. Sir, who
make their houses a home to their guests, and are
themselves quite easy." Johnson. " Then, Sir, home
must be the same to the guests, and they need not
come."
Here he discovered a notion common enough in
persons not much accustomed to entertain company,
that there must be a degree of elaborate attention,
otherwise company will think themselves neglected ;
and such attention is no doubt very fatiguing. He
proceeded : " I would not, however, be a stranger in
my own country ; I would visit my neighbours, and
receive their visits ; but 1 would not be in haste to
return visits. If a gentleman comes to see me, I tell
him he does me a great deal of honour. I do not go
to see him perhaps for ten weeks ; then we are very
Complaisant to each other. No, Sir, you will have
much more influence by giving or lending money
where it is wanted, than by hospitality."
On Saturday, May 17, 1 saw him for a short time.
Having mentioned that I had that morning been with
old Mr. Sheridan, he remembered their former intimacy
with a cordial warmth, and said to me, " Tell Mr.
Sheridan, 1 shall be glad to see him, and shake hands
with him." Boswell. " It is to me very wonderful
that resentment should be kept up so long." John-
son. " Why, Sir, it is not altogether resentment that
he does not visit me ; it is partly falling out of the
DR. JOHNSON. 323
habit, — partly disgust, as one has at a drug that has 17B3.
made him sick. Besides, he knows that 1 laugh at his ^^^
oratory.'' 74.
Another day I spoke of one of our friends, of whom
he, as well as I, had a very high opinion. He expa-
tiated in his praise ; but added, " Sir, he is a cursed
Whig, a bottomless Whig, as they all are now."
I mentioned my expectations from the interest of an
eminent person then in power ; adding, " but I have
no claim but the claim of friendship ; however, som^
people will go a great way for that motive." John-
son. " Sir, they will go all the way from that motive."
A gentleman talked of retiring. " Never think of
that," said Johnson. The gentleman urged, " I should
then do no ill." Johnson. " Nor no good either.
Sir, it would be a civil suicide."
On Monday, May 26, 1 found him at tea, and the
celebrated Miss Burney, the authour of " Evelina"
and " Cecilia," with him. I asked, if there would be
any speakers in Parliament, if there were no places to
be obtained. Johnson. " Yes, Sir. Why do you
speak here \ Either to instruct and entertain, which is
a benevolent motive ; or for distinction, which is a
selfish motive." I mentioned " Cecilia." Johnson.
(with an air of animated satisfaction) " Sir, if you talk
of ' Cecilia,' talk on."
We talked of Mr. Barry's exhibition of his pictures.
Johnson. " Whatever the hand may have done, the
mind has done its part. There is a grasp of mind
there, which you find no where else."*
1 asked, whether a man naturally virtuous, or one
who has overcome wicked inclinations, is the best.
Johnson. " Sir, to you^ the man who has overcome
wicked inchnations, is not the best. He has more
merit to himself : I would rather trust my money to a
man who has no hands, and so a physical impossibility
to steal, than to a man of the most honest principles.
There is a witty satirical story of Foote. He had a
small bust of Garrick placed upon his bureau. * You
4 In Mr. Barry's printed analysis, or description of these pictures, he speaks of
Johnson's character in the highest terms.
324 THE LIFE OF
1783. may be surprised (said he) that I allow him to be so
^'^ near my gold ; — but you will observe, he has no hands."
74. On Friday, May 29, being to set out for Scotland
next morning, 1 passed a part of the day with him in
more than usual earnestness ; as his health was in a
more precarious state than at any time when I had
parted from him. He, however, was quick and lively,
and critical, as usual. I mentioned one who was a
very learned man. Johnson. " Yes, Sir, he has a
great deal of learning ; but it never lies straight.
There is never one idea by the side of another ; ^tis all
entangled : and then he drives it so awkwardly upon
conversation !"
1 stated to him an anxious thought, by which a sin-
cere Christian might be disturbed, even when conscious
of having lived a good life, so far as is consistent with
human infirmity ; he might fear that he should after-
wards fall away, and be guilty of such crimes as would
render all his former religion vain. Could there be,
upon this aweful subject, such a thing as balancing of
accounts 1 Suppose a man who has led a good life for
seven years, commits an act of wickedness, and in-
stantly dies ; will his former good life have any effect in
his favour? Johnson. " Sir, if a man has led a good
life for seven years, and then is hurried by passion to
do what is wrong, and is suddenly carried off, depend
upon it he will have the reward of his seven years*
good life : God will not take a catch of him. Upon
this principle Richard Baxter believes that a Suicide
may be saved. ' If (says he) it should be objected that
what 1 maintain may encourage suicide, 1 answer, 1 am
not to tell a lie to prevent it." Boswell. " But does
not the text say, ' As the tree falls, so it must lie ?"
Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; as the tree falls : but,— -(after a
little pause) — that is meant as to the general state of
the tree, not what is the effect of a sudden blast." In
short, he interpreted the expression as referring to con-
dition, not to position. The common notion, therefore,
seems to be erroneous ; and Shenstone's witty remark
on Divines trying to give the tree a jerk upon a death-
bed, to make it lie favourably, is not well founded,
DR. JOHNSON. 325
I asked him what works of Richard Baxter's I should 1783.
read. He said " Read any of them ; they are all^JJ]^
good." 74.
He said, " Get as much force of mind as you can.
Live within your income. Always have something
saved at the end of the year. Let your imports be
more than your exports, and you'll never go far wrong.'"
I assured him, that in the extensive and various
range of his acquaintance there never had been any
one who had a more sincere respect and affection for
him than I had. He said " 1 believe it, Sir. Were I
in distress, there is no man to whom I should sooner
come than to you. I should like to come and have
a cottage in your park, toddle about, live mostly on
milk, and be taken care of by Mrs. Boswell. She and
1 are good friends now ; are we not ?"
Talking of devotion, he said, " Though it be true
that ' God dwelleth not in Temples made with hands/
yet in this state of being, our minds are more piously
affected in places appropriated to divine worship, than
in others. Some people have a particular room in their
houses, where they say their prayers ; of which I do
not disapprove, as it may animate their devotion."
He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual
when 1 was leaving him for any length of time. I
walked from his door to-day, with a fearful apprehen-
sion of what might happen before I returned.
^' TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM WINDHAM-
" SIR,
" The bringer of this letter is the father of Miss
Philips, 5 a singer, who comes to try her voice on the
stage at Dublin.
" Mr. Philips is one of my old friends ; and as I am
of opinion that neither he nor his daughter will do any
thing that can disgrace their benefactors, 1 take the
liberty of entreating you to countenance and protect
them so far as may be suitable to your station^ and
■' Now the celebrated Mrs. Crouch.
'■■ Mr. Windham was at this time in Dublin, Secretary to the Earl of Northing-
ton, then Lord iieutenant of Ireland.
3S6 THE LIFE OP
1783. character ; and shall consider myself as obliged by any
^^^ favourable notice which they shall have the honour of
74, * receiving from you.
" I am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" London, May 31, 1783. " Sam. Johnson.'^
The following is another instance of his active be-
nevolence :
" TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS.
" DEAR SIR.
"I HAVE sent you some of my god-son's' perform-
ances, of which 1 do not pretend to form any opinion.
When I took the liberty of mentioning him to you, I
did not know what I have since been told, that Mr.
Moser had admitted him among the Students of the
Academy. What more can be done for him, I earn-
estly entreat you to consider ; for 1 am very desirous
that he should derive some advantage from my connec-
tion with him. If you are inclined to see him, I will
bring him to wait on you, at any time that you shall
be pleased to appoint.
" I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" June 2, 1783. " Sam. Johnson.*'
My anxious apprehensions at parting with him this
year, proved to be but too well founded ; for not long
afterwards he had a dreadful stroke of the palsy, of
which there are very full and accurate accounts in let-
ters written by himself, to shew with what composure
of mind, and resignation to the Divine Will, his steady
piety enabled him to behave.
" TO MR. EDMUND ALLEN.
" DEAR SIR,
" It has pleased God, this morning, to deprive
me of the powers of speech ; and as I do not know but
' Son of Mr. Samuel Patterson.
I
DR. JOHNSON. 327
that it may be his further good pleasure to deprive me "^783.
soon of my senses, 1 request you will on the receipt of ^J^
this note, come to me, and act for me, as the exigences 74.
of my case may require.
" 1 am,
" Sincerely yours,
''June 17, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THE REVEREND DR. JOHN TAYLOR.
" DEAR SIR,
" It has pleased God, by a paralytick stroke in the
night, to deprive me of speech.
*' I am very desirous of Dr. Heberden's assistance, as
I think my case is not past remedy. Let me see you
as soon as it is possible. Bring Dr. Heberden with
you, if you can ; but come yourself at all events. I am
glad you are so well, when 1 am so dreadfully attacked.
" 1 think that by a speedy application of stimulants
much may be done. 1 question if a vomit, vigorous
and rough, would not rouse the organs of speech to ac- 1
tion. As it is too early to send, I will try to recollect '
what 1 can, that can be suspected to have brought on
this dreadful distress.
" 1 have been accustomed to bleed frequently for an
asthmatick complaint ; but have forborne for some time
by Dr. Pepys's persuasion, who perceived my legs be-
ginning to swell. 1 sometimes alleviate a painful, or '
more properly an oppressive, constriction of my chest,
by opiates ; and have lately taken opium frequently,
but the last, or two last times, in smaller quantities.
My largest dose is three grains, and last night 1 took
but two. You will suggest these things (and they are
all that I can call to mind) to Dr. Heberden.
" I am, &c.
" June 17, 1783. « Sam. Johnson."
Two days after he wrote thus to Mrs. Thrale :»
" On Monday, the 16th, I sat for my picture, and
walked a considerable way with little inconvenience.
'Vol. 11. p. 268, of Mrs. Thrale's Collection.
^28 THE LIFE OP
1783. In the afternoon and evening I felt myself light and ea-
JStat. ^y» ^"^ began to plan schemes of hfe. Thus 1 went to
74. bed, and in a short time waked and sat up, as has been
long my custom, when I felt a confusion and indis-
tinctness in my head, which lasted, i suppose, about
half a minute. I was alarmed, and prayed God, that
however he might afflict my body, he would spare my
understanding. This prayer, that 1 might try the in-
tegrity of my faculties, 1 made in Latin verse. The
lines were not very good, but 1 knew them not to be
very good : I made them easily, and concluded myself
to be unimpaired in my faculties.
" Soon after I perceived that I had suffered a paralytick
stroke, and that my speech was taken from me. I had
no pain, and so little dejection in this dreadful state,
that 1 wondered at my own apathy, and considered that
perhaps death itself, when it should come, would excite
less horrour than seems now to attend it.
" In order to rouse the vocal organs, 1 took two
drams. Wine has been celebrated for the production
of eloquence. I put myself into violent motion, and I
think repeated it ; but all was vain. I then went to
bed, and strange as it may seem, I think slept. When
I saw light, it was time to contrive what 1 should do.
Though God stopped my speech, he left me my hand ;
I enjoyed a mercy which was not granted to my dear
friend Lawrence, who now perhaps overlooks me as I
am writing, and rejoices that 1 have what he wanted.
My first note was necessarily to my servant, who came
m talking, and could not immediately comprehend why
he should read what I put into his hands.
" I then wrote a card to Mr. Allen, that I might have
a discreet friend at hand, to act as occasion should re-
quire. In penning this note, I had some difficulty ;
my hand, 1 knew not how nor why, made wrong letters.
I then wrote to Dr. Taylor to come to me, and bring
Dr. Heberden : and 1 sent to Dr. Brocklesby, who is
my neighbour. My physicians are very friendly, and
give me great hopes ; but you may imagine my situa-
tion. I have so far recovered my vocal powers, as to
repeat the Lord's Prayer with no very imperfect articu-
DR. JOHNSON. 329
Jation. My memory, I hope, yet remains as it was ! i783.
but such an attack produces solicitude for the safety of^ut!
every faculty/* 74.
" TO MR. THOMAS DAVIES.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HAVE had, indeed, a very heavy blow ; but
God, who yet spares my life, 1 humbly hope will spare
my understanding, and restore my speech. As 1 am
not at all helpless, I want no particular assistance, but
am strongly affected by Mrs. Davies's tenderness ; and
when 1 think she can do me good, shall be very glad to
call upon her. I had ordered friends to be shut out ;
but one or two have found the way in ; and if you come
you shall be admitted : for I know not whom 1 can see,
that will bring more amusement on his tongue, or more
kindness in his heart. I am, &c.
''June 18, 1783. "Sam. Johnson.*' .
It gives me great pleasure to preserve such a memorial
of Johnson's regard for Mr. Davies, to whom I was in-
debted for my introduction to him.' He indeed loved
Davies cordially, of which 1 shall give the following
little evidence. One day when he had treated him
with too much asperity, Tom, who was not without
pride and spirit, went off in a passion ; but he had
hardly reached home, when Frank, who had been sent
after him, delivered this note : — " Come, come, dear
Davies, 1 am always sorry when we quarrel ; send me
word that we are friends."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
** DEAR SIR,
" Your anxiety about my health is very friendly,
and very agreeable with your general kindness. I have,
indeed, had a very frightful blow. On the 17th of last
» Poor Derrick, however, though he did not himself introduce me to Dr. John-
son as he promised, had the merit of introducing me to Davief, the immediate
introductor.
VOL. Til. 4-2
i
330 THE LIFE OF
1783. month, about three in the morning, as near as I can .j|
^J^ guess, I perceived myself almost totally deprived of ^
74 . speech. I had no pain. My organs were so obstruct-
ed that I could say no, but could scarcely say t/es. I
wrote the necessary directions, for it pleased God to
spare my hand, and sent for Dr. Heberden and Dr.
Brocklesby. Between the time in which 1 discovered
my own disorder, and that in which 1 sent for the doc-
tors, 1 had, 1 believe, in spite of my surprize and solic-
itude, a little sleep, and Nature began to renew its ope-
rations. They came and gave the directions which the
disease required, and from that time 1 have been con-
tinually improving in articulation. I can now speak,
but the nerves are weak, and I cannot continue dis-
course long ; but strength, 1 hope, will return. The
physicians consider me as cured. 1 was last Sunday at
church. On Tuesday 1 took an airing to Hampstead,
and dined with the club, where Lord Palmerston was
proposed, and, against my opinion, was rejected. ' I
designed to go next week with Mr. Langton to Roch-
ester, where 1 purpose to stay about ten days, and then
try some other air. I have many kind invitations.
Your brother has very frequently enquired after me.
Most of my friends have, indeed, been very attentive.
Thank dear Lord Hailes for his present.
" I hope you found at your return every thing gay
and prosperous, and your lady, in particular, quite re-
covered and confirmed. Pay her my respects. I am,
dear Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
'• London^ July 3, 1783. ". Sam. Johnson.''
"to MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" DEAR MADAM,
" The account which you give of your health is
but melancholy. May it please God to restore you.
My disease affected my speech, and still continues, in
some degree, to obstruct my utterance ; my voice is
' His Lordship was soon after chosen, and is now a member of the ci.ub
DR. JOHNSON. 331
distinct enough for a while ; but the organs being still 1783.
weak are quickly weary : but in other respects 1 am, 1 J^
think, rather better than I have lately been ; and can 74.
let you know my state without the help of any other
hand.
" In the opinion of my friends, and in my own, I am
gradually mending. The physicians consider me as
cured, and I had leave four days ago, to wash the can-
tharides from my head. Last Tuesday I dined at the
CLUB.
" I am going next week into Kent, and purpose to
change the air frequently this summer ; whether I shall
wander so far as Staffordshire I cannot tell. I should
be glad to come. Return my thanks to Mrs. Cobb,
and Mr. Pearson, and all that have shewn attention to
me.
" Let us, my dear, pray for one another, and con-
sider our sufferings as notices mercifully given us to
prepare ourselves for another state.
" I live now but in a melancholy way. My old
friend Mr. Levet is dead, who hved with me in the
house, and was useful and companionable ; Mrs. Des-
moulins is gone away ; and Mrs. Williams is so much
decayed, that she can add little to another's gratifica-
tions. The world passes away, and we are passing with
it ; but there is, doubtless, another world, which will
endure for ever. Let us all fit ourselves for it. I
am, &c.
" London^ July 5, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
Such was the general vigour of his constitution, that
he recovered from this alarming and severe attack with
wonderful quickness ; so that in July he was able to
make a visit to Mr. Langton at Rochester, where he
passed about a fortnight, and made little excursions as
easily as at any time of his life. In August he went as
far as the neighbourhood of Sahsbury, to Heale, the
seat of William Bowles, Esq. a gentleman whom I have
heard him praise for exemplary religious order in his
family. In his diary I find a short but honourable
mention of this visit : — " August 28, I came to Heale
332 THE LIFE OF
1783. without fatigue. 30. I am entertained quite to my
S^ mind."*
74.
" TO DR. BROCKLESBY.
" Heale, near Salisbury, Aug. 29, 1783.
" DEAR SIR,
" Without appearing to want a just sense of
your kind attention, I cannot omit to give an account
of the day which seemed to appear in some sort peril-
ous. I rose at five, and went out at six ; and having
reached Sahsbury about nine, went forward a iew miles
in my friend's chaxhot. 1 was no more wearied with
the journey, though it was a high-hung, rough coach,
than 1 should have been forty years ago. We shall
now see what air will do. The country is all a plain ;
and the house in which I am, so far as 1 can judge from
my window, for I write before 1 have left my chamber,
is sufficiently pleasant.
" Be so kind as to continue your attention to Mrs.
Williams ; it is great consolation to the well, and
still greater to the sick, that they find themselves not
neglected ; and I know that you will be desirous of
giving comfort, even where you have no great hope of
giving help.
^ [In his letter to Mrs. Thrale, written on the 13th of August, we find the fol-
lowing melancholy paragraph :
" I am now broken with disease, without the alleviation of familiar friendship or
domestick society : I have no middle state between clamour and silence, between
general conversation and self-tormenting solitude. Levet is dead, and poor Will-
iams is making haste to die : I know not if she will ever more come out of her
chamber."
In a subsequent letter (August 26) he adds, " Mrs. Williams fancies now and then
that ."^he grows better, but her vital powers appear to be slowly burning out.
Nobody thinks, however, that she will very soon be quite wasted, and as she
suffers me to be of very little use to her, I have determined to pass some time with
Mr. Bowles near Salisbury, and have taken a place for Thursday.
" Some benefit may be perhaps received from change of air, some from change
of company, and some from mere change of place. It is not easy to grow well in
a chamber where one has long been sick, and where every thing seen, and every
person speaking, revives and impresses images of pain. Though it be true, that
no man can run away from himself, yet he may escape from many causes of use-
less uneasiness. That tbe mind is its oivn place, is the boast of a fallen angel that
had learned to lie. External locaUty has great effects, at least upon all embodied
beings. I hope this httle journey will aiFord me at least some suspense of meK
ancholy." M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 333
" Since I wrote the former part of the letter, I find '783.
that by the course of the post 1 cannot send it before J^
the thirty-first. 1 am, &c. 74.
" Sam. Johnson."
While he was here, he had a letter from Dr. Brock-
lesby, acquainting him of the death of Mrs. Williams,*
which affected him a good deal. Though for several
years her temper had not been complacent, she had
valuable qualities, and her departure left a blank in his
house. Upon this occasion he, according to his habit-
ual course of piety, composed a prayer.*
I shall here insert a few particulars concerning him,
with which 1 have been favoured by one of his friends.
" He had once conceived the design of writing the
Life of Oliver Cromwell, saying, that he thought it
must be highly curious to trace his extraordinary rise
to the supreme power, from so obscure a beginning.
He at length laid aside his scheme, on discovering that
all that can be told of him is already in print ; and
that it is impracticable to procure any authentick in-
formation in addition to what the world is already
possessed of ^
^ [In his letter to Miss Susanna Thrale, Sept. 9, 1783, he thus writes : " Pray
shew Mamma this passage of a letter from Dr. Brocklesby. ' Mrs. Williams, from
mere inanition, has at length paid the great debt to nature about three o'clock
this morning (Sept. 6.) She died without a struggle, retaining her faculties to the
very last, and, as she expressed it, having set her house in order, was prepared to
leave it, at the last summons of nature."
In his letter to Mrs. Thrale, Sept. 22, he adds, " Poor Williams has, I hope, seen
the end of her afflictions. She acted with prudence and she bore with forti-
tude. She has left me.
" Thou thy weary task has done,
" Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages."
Had she had good humour and prompt elocution, her universal curiosity and
comprehensive knowledge would have made her the delight of all that knew her.
She has left her httle to your charity-schooL" M.]
•* Prayers and Meditations, p. 226.
' Mr. Malone observes, " This, however, was entirely a mistake, as appears
from the Memoirs published by Mr. Noble. Had Johnson been furnished with
the materials which the industry ot that gentleman has procured, and with others
which, it is believed, are yet preserved in manuscript, he would, without doubt,
have produced a most valuable and curious history of Cromwell's life."
[I may add, that, had Johnson given us a Life of Cromwell, we should not hav^
been disgusted in numberless instances with — "■ My Lord Protector" and " My
Lady Protectbess ;" and certainly the brutal ruf&an who presided in the bloody
334* THE LIFE OP
J 783. " He had likewise projected, but at what part of his
I^J^ life is not known, a work to shew how small a quantity
74, of REAL FICTION there is in the world ; and that the
same images, with very little variation, have served all
the authours who have ever written."
" His thoughts in the latter part of his life were
frequently employed on his deceased friends. He
often muttered, these, or such like sentences : ' Poor
man ! and then he died."
" Speaking of a certain literary friend, ' He is a very
pompous puzzling fellow, (said he ;) he lent me a letter
once that somebody had written to him, no matter
what it was about ; but he wanted to have the letter
back, and expressed a mighty value for it ; he hoped it
was to be met with again, he would not lose it for a
thousand pounds. 1 layed my hand upon it soon af-
terwards, and gave it him. I believe, 1 said, I was
very glad to have met with it. O, then he did not
know that it signified any thing. So you see, when
the letter was lost it was worth a thousand pounds, and
when it was found it was not worth a farthing."
" The style and character of his conversation is
pretty generally known ; it was certainly conducted
in conformity with a precept of Lord Bacon, but it is
not clear, 1 apprehend, that this conformity was either
perceived or intended by Johnson. The precept al-
luded to is as follows : ' In all kinds of speech, either
pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient to
speak leisurely, and rather drawlingly than hastily :
because hasty speech confounds the memory, and oft-
entimes, besides the unseemliness, drives a man either
to stammering, a non-plus, or harping on that which
should follow ; whereas a slow speech confirmeth the
memory, addeth a conceit of wisdom to the hearers,
besides a seemliness of speech and countenance.^^ Dr.
Johnson's method of conversation was certainly calcu-
lated to excite attention, and to amuse and instruct,
assembly that murdered their sovereign, would have been characterized by very
different epithets than those which are applied to him in this work, where we
find him described as " the bold and determined Bradshaw." M.]
'• [Hints for Civil Conversation. — Bacon's Works, 4to, vol. i. p. 571. M.]
I
DR. JOHNSON. 335
(as it happened,) without wearying or confusing his ^ 783.
company. He was always most perfectly clear and ^Etat!
perspicuous ; and his language was so accurate, and 74.
his sentences so neatly constructed, that his conversa^
tion might have been all printed without any correc-
tion. At the same time, it was easy and natural ; the
accuracy of it had no appearance of labour, constraint,
or stiffness ; he seemed more correct than others, by
the force of habit, and the customary exercises of his
powerful mind."
" He spoke often in praise of French literature.
* The French are excellent in this, (he would say,)
they have a book on every subject.' From what he
had seen of them he denied them the praise of superiour
politeness, and mentioned, with very visible disgust,
the custom they have of spitting on the floors of their
apartments. ' This, (said the Doctor) is as gross a
thing as can well be done ; and one wonders how any
man, or set of men, can persist in so offensive a practice
for a whole day together ; one should expect that the
first effort towards civilization would remove it even
among savages."
" Baxter's ' Reasons of the Christian religion,' he
thought contained the best collection of the evidences
of the divinity of the Christian system."
" Chymistry was always an interesting pursuit with
Dr. Johnson. Whilst he was in Wiltshire, he attend-
ed some experiments that were made by a physician at
Salisbury, on the new kinds of air. In the course of
the experiments frequent mention being made of Dr.
Priestley, Dr. Johnson knit his brows, and in a stern
manner enquired, ' Why do we hear so much of Dr.
Priestley V^ He was very properly answered, ' Sir,
' I do not wonder at Johnson's displeasure when the name of Dr. Priestley was
mentioned ; for I know no writer who has been suffered to publish more pernicious
doctrines. I shall instance only three. Tint, Materialis??! ; by which »?/«(/ is denied
to human nature ; which, if believed, must deprive us of every elevated principle.
Secondly, Necessity ; or the doctrine that every action, whether good or bad, is in-
cluded in an unchangeable and unavoidable system ; a notion utterly subversive of
moral government. Thirdly, that we have no reason to think that the future world,
(which, as he is pleased to inform us, will be adapted to our merely impro-ved nature,)
will be materially different from this ; which, if believed, would sink wretched
mertaU into despair, as they could no longer hope for the " rest that ranaineth for
33G THE LIFE OF
1783. because we are indebted to him for these important
^J^ discoveries/ On this Dr. Johnson appeared well con-
74. tent ; and replied, * Well, well, I believe we are ; and
let every man have the honour he has merited."
" A friend was one day, about two years before his
death, struck with some instance of Dr. Johnson's
great candour. ' Well, Sir, (said he,) I will always say
that you are a very candid man.^ — ' Will you, {replied
the Doctor,) I doubt then you will be very singular.
But, indeed. Sir, (continued he,) I look upon myself
to be a man very much misunderstood. 1 am not an
uncandid, nor am 1 a severe man. 1 sometimes say
more than I mean, in jest ; and people are apt to be-
lieve me serious : however, 1 am more candid than I
was when 1 was younger. As I know more of man-
kind, 1 expect less of them, and am ready now to call
»a man a good man, upon easier terms than 1 was for-
merly."
On his return from Heale he wrote to Dr. Burney.
— " I came home on the 18th of September, at noon,
to a very disconsolate house. You and I have lost our
friends ; but you have more friends at home. My
domestick companion is taken from me. She is much
the people of God," or for that happiness which is revealed to us as something be.
yond our present conceptions ; but would feel themselves doomed to a continuation
of the uneasy state under which they now groan. I say nothing of the petulant
intemperance with which he dares to insult the venerable establishments of his
country.
As a specimen of his writings, I shall quote the following passage, which appear?
to me equally absurd and impious, and which might have been retorted upon
him by the men who were prosecuted for burning his house. " 1 cannot, (say*
he,) as a necessarian, [meaning tiecessitariani\ hate any man ; because I consider him
as being, in all respects, just what God has made him to be ; and also as doing ivitb
respect to me, nothing but what he was expressly disigned and appoi?ited to do : God
being the only cause, and men nothing more than the hnstrumtnts in his hands to
execute all his pleasure.^ -Illustrations of Philosophical Necessity, p. 1 1 J.
The Reverend Dr. Parr, in a late trace, appears to suppose that Dr. Johnson not
only endured, but almost solicited, an intervieiv ivith Dr Priestley. In justice to Dr. John-
son, I declare my firm beHef that he never did. My illustrious friend was partic-
ularly resolute in not giving countenance to men whose writings he considered a*
pernicious to society. I was present at Oxford when Dr. Price, even before he
had rendered himself so generally obnoxious by his zeal for the French revolution,
came into a company where Johnson was, who instantly left the room. Much
more would he have reprobated Dr. Priestley.
Whoever wishes to see a perfect delineation of this Literary Jacl of all Trades,
may find it in an ingenious track, entitled, " A small Whole-Length of Dr.
Priestley," printed for Rivingtons in St. Paul's Church- Yard.
DR. JOHNSON* 337
missed, for her acquisitions were many, and her curi- '783.
osity universal ; so that she partook of every conver- Jtat!
sation. I am not well enough to go much out ; and to 74.
sit, and eat, or fast alone, is very wearisome. 1 always
mean to send my compliments to all the ladies."
His fortitude and patience met with severe trials
during this year. The stroke of the palsy has been
related circumstantially ; but he was also afflicted with
the gout, and was besides troubled with a complaint
which not only was attended with immediate incon-
venience, but threatened him with a chirurgical opera-
tion, from which most men would shrink. Fhe com-
plaint was a sarcocele, which Johnson bore with
uncommon firmness, and was not at all frightened
while he looked forward to amputation. He was
attended by Mr. Pott and Mr. Cruikshank. I have
before me a letter of the 30th of July this year, to Mr.
Cruikshank, in which he says, " 1 am going to put
myself into your hands :" and another, accompanying
a set of his " Lives of the Poets," in which he says,
" 1 beg your acceptance of these volumes, as an ac-
knowledgement of the great favours which you have
bestowed on, Sir, your most obliged and most humble
servant." 1 have in my possession several more letters
from him to Mr. Cruikshank, and also to Dr. Mudge
at Plymouth, which it would be improper to insert, as
they are filled with unpleasing technical details. I
shall, however, extract from his letters to Dr. Mudge
such passages as shew either a felicity of expression or
the undaunted state of his mind.
" My conviction of your skill, and my belief of your
friendship, determine me to intreat your opinion and
advice." — " In this state I with great earnestness desire
you to tell me what is to be done. Excision is doubt-
less necessary to the cure, and I know not any means
of palliation. The operation is doubtless painful ; but
is it dangerous ? The pain 1 hope to endure with de-
cency ; but I am loth to put life into much hazard." —
" By representing the gout as an antagonist to the
palsy, you have said enough to make it welcome. This
is not strictly the first fit, but I hope it is as good as
VOL. III. 43
^36 THE LIFE OF
1783. the first ; tor it is the second that ever confined me ;
jEt*!^ and the first was ten years ago, much less fierce and
74. fiery than this." — " Write, dear Sir, what you can to
inform or encourage me. The operation is not delayed
by any fears or objections of mine."
" TO BENNET LANGTON, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" You may very reasonably charge me with insen-
sibility of your kindness, and that of lady Rothes, since
I have suffered so much time to pass without paying
any acknowledgement. I now, at last, return my thanks ;
and why 1 did it not sooner I ought to tell you. I
went into Wiltshire as soon as 1 well could, and was
there much employed in palliating my own malady.
Disease produces much selfishness. A man in pain is
looking after ease ; and lets most other things go as
chance shall dispose of them. In the mean time I have
lost a companion,^ to whom I have had recourse for do-
mestick amusement for thirty years, and whose variety
of knowledge never was exhausted ; and now return to
a habitation vacant and desolate. 1 carry about a very
troublesome and dangerous complaint, which admits no
cure but by the chirurgical knife. Let me have your
prayers. 1 am, &c.
''"London, Sept. '^9, 1783. "Sam. Johnson/'
Happily the complaint abated without his being put
to the torture of amputation. But we must surely ad-
mire the manly resolution which he discovered, while
it hung over him.
In a letter to the same gentleman he writes, " The
gout has within these four days come upon me with a
violence which I never experienced before. It made
me helpless as an infant." — And in another, having
mentioned Mrs. Williams, he says, — " whose death fol-
lowing that of Levet, has now made my house a soli-
tude. She left her little substance to a charity-school.
' Mrs. Anna Williams.
DR. JOHNSON. 339
She is, I hope, where there is neither darkness, nor want, 17B3.
nor sorrow." ^taT
1 wrote to him, begging to know the state of his 74. '
heahh, and mentioned that " Baxter's Anacreon, which
is in the library at Auchinleck, was, I find, collated by
my father in 1727, with the MS. belonging to the Uni-
versity of Leyden, and he has made a number of Notes
upon it. Would vou advise me to publish a new edi-
tion of it ?"
His answer was dated September 30. — " You should
not make your letters such rarities, when you know, or
might know, the uniform state of my health. It is very
long since I heard from you ; and that 1 have not an-
swered is a very insufficient reason for the silence of a
friend. — Your Anacreon is a very uncommon book ;
neither London nor Cambridge can supply a copy of
that edition. Whether it should be reprinted, you can-
not do better than consult Lord Hailes. — Besides my
constant and radical disease, I have been for these ten
days much harassed with the gout ; but that has now
remitted. I hope God will yet grant me a little longer
life, and make me less unfit to appear before him."
He this autumn received a visit from the celebrated
Mrs. Siddons. He gives this account of it in one of
his letters to Mrs. Thrale [October 27 : — ] " Mrs. Sid-
dons, in her visit to me, behaved with great modesty
and propriety, and left nothing behind her to be cen-
sured or despised. Neither praise nor money, the two
powerful corrupters of mankind, seem to have depraved
her. I shall be glad to see her again. Her brother
Kemble calls on me, and pleases me very well. Mrs.
Siddons and I talked of plays ; and she told me her in-
tention of exhibiting this winter the characters of Con-
stance, Catharine, and Isabella, in Shakspeare."
Mr. Kemble has favoured me with the following
minute of what passed at this visit.
" When Mrs. Siddons came into the room, there
happened to be no chair ready for her, which he observ-
ing, said with a smile, ' Madam, you who so often
occasion a want of seats to other people, will the more
easily excuse the want of one yourself."
340 THE LIFE OF
1783. " Having placed himself by her, he with great good
^^ humour entered upon a consideration of the English
74. drama ; and, among other enquiries, particularly asked
her which of Shakspeare's characters she was most
pleased with. Upon her answering that she thought
the character of Queen Catharine, in Henry the b.ighth,
the most natural : — ' 1 think so too, Madam, (said he ;)
and whenever you perform it, I will once more hobble
out to the theatre myself.' Mrs. Siddons promised she
■would do herself the honour of acting his favourite part
for him ; but many circumstances happened to prevent
the representation of King Henry the Eighth during
the Doctor's life.
" in the course of the evening he thus gave his
opinion upon the merits of some of the principal per-
formers whom he remembered to have seen upon the
stage. ' Mrs. Porter, in the vehemence of rage, and
Mrs. Clive in the sprightliness of humour, 1 have never
seen equalled. What Clive did best, she did better
than Garrick ; but could not do half so many things
well ; she was a better romp than any I ever saw in
nature. — Pritchard, in common life was a vulgar ideot ;
she would talk of her gozc?i(/ ; but, when she appeared
upon the stage, seemed to be inspired by gentility and
understanding. — 1 once talked with Colley Cibber, and
thought him ignorant of the principles of his art. — Gar-
rick, Madam, was no declaimer ; there was not one of
his own scene-shifters who could not have spoken To
be^ or not to be, better than he did ; yet he was the
only actor 1 ever saw, whom I could call a master both
in tragedy and comedy ; though 1 liked him best in
comedy. A true conception of character, and natural
expression of it, were his distinguished excellencies.^
Having expatiated^ with his usual force and eloquence,
on Mr. Garrick's extraordinary eminence as an actor,
he concluded with this compliment to his social talents ;
' And after all, Madam, I thought him less to be en-
vied on the stage, than at the head of a table."
Johnson, indeed, had thought more upon the sub-
ject of acting than might be generally supposed.
Talking of it one day to Mr. Kemble, he said, " Are
DR. JOHNSON. 341
you, Sir, one of those enthusiasts who believe yourself 1783.
transformed into the very character you represent I" ^^^^
Upon Mr. Kemble's answering — that he had never felt 74. '
so strong a persuasion himself ; " To be sure not, Sir,
(said Johnson ;) the thing is impossible. And if Gar-
rick really believed himself to be that monster, Rich-
ard the Third, he deserved to be hanged every time he
performed it.'''
[" TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" DEAR MADAM,
" The death of poor Mr. Porter, of which your
maid has sent an acct)unt, must have very much sur-
prized you. The death of a friend is almost always
unexpected : we do not love to think of it, and there-
fore are not prepared for its coming. He was, 1 think,
a religious man, and therefore that his end was happy.
" Death has likewise visited my mournful habitation.
Last month died Mrs. Williams, who had been to me
for thirty years in the place of a sister : her knowledge
was great, and her conversation pleasing. 1 now live
in cheerless solitude.
' My worthy friend, Mr. John Nichols, was present when Mr. Henderson, the
actor, paid a visit to Dr. Johnson ; and was received in a very courteous manner, —
See " Gentleman's Mag^ine." June 1791.
I found among Dr. Johnson's papers, the following letter to him, from the cele-
brated Mrs. Bellamy :
" TO DR. JOHNSON.
« SIR,
" The flattering remembrance of the partiaUty you honoured me with, some
years ago, as well as the humanity you are known to possess, has encouraged me
to solicit your patronage at my Benefit.
" By a long Chancery suit, and a complicated train of unfortunate events, I am
reduced to the greatest distress ; which obliges me, once more, to request the in-
dulgence of the pubhck.
" Give me leave to soUcit the honour of your company, and to assure you, if
you grant my request, the gratification I shall feel, from being patronized by Dr.
Johnson, will be infinitely superiour to any advantage that may arise from the Ben-
efit ; as I am, with the profoundest respect. Sir,
" Your most obedient, humble servant,
" No. 10, Duke-street, St. James's, " G. A. BELLAMy."
May 11, 1783.
I am happy In recording these particulars, which prove that my illustrious friend
lived to think much more favourably of Players than he appears to have done in
fhe early part of his life.
342 THE LIFE OP
1783. " My two last years have past under the pressure of
2J^ successive diseases. I have lately had the gout with
74. some severity. But 1 wonderfully escaped the opera-
tion which I mentioned, and am upon the whole re-
stored to health beyond my own expectation.
" As we daily see our friends die round us, we that
are left must cling closer, and, if we can do nothing
more, at least pray for one another ; and remember,
that as others die we must die too, and prepare our-
selves diligently for the last great trial. 1 am, Madam,
" Yours affectionately,
" Sam. Johnson."]
*' Bolt-court^ Fleet-street^ Nov. 10, 1783.
A pleasing instance of the generous attention of one
of his friends has been discovered by the publication of
Mrs. Thrale's collection of Letters. In a letter to one
of the Miss Thrales,' he writes, " A friend, whose
name I will tell when your mamma has tried to guess
it, sent to my physician to enquire whether this long
train of illness had brought me into difficulties for want
of money, with an invitation to send to him for what
occasion required. I shall write this night to thank
him, having no need to borrow." And afterwards, in
a letter to Mrs. Thrale, " Since you cannot guess, I
will tell you, that the generous man was Gerard Ham-
ilton. I returned him a very thankful and respectful
letter."*
I applied to Mr. Hamilton, by a common friend,
and he has been so obliging as to let me have Johnson's
letter to him upon this occasion, to adorn my collection.
" TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM GERARD
HAMILTON.
" DEAR SIR,
" Your kind enquiries after my affairs, and your
generous offers, have been communicated to me by
Dr. Brocklesby. I return thanks with great sincerity,
' Vol. IL p. 328, 3 IbiA p. 342.
DR. JOHNSON. 343
having lived long enough to know what gratitude is 1783.
due to such friendship ; and entreat that my refusal ^^
may not be imputed to suUenness or pride. I am, in- 74. *
deed, in no want. Sickness is, by the generosity of
my physicians, of little expense to me. But if any
unexpected exigence should press me, you shall see,
dear Sir, how cheerfully 1 can be obliged to so much
liberality.
" I am, Sir,
" Your most obedient,
" And most humble servant,
*' November 19, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
I find in this, as in former years, notices of his kind
attention to Mrs. Gardiner, who, though in the hum-
ble station of a tallow-chandler upon Snow-hill, was a
woman of excellent good sense, pious, and charitable.'
She told me, she had been introduced to him by Mrs.
Masters, the poetess, whose volumes he revised, and, it
is said, illuminated here and there with a ray of his own
genius. Mrs. Gardiner was very zealous for the sup-
port of the Ladies' charity-school, in the parish of St.
Sepulchre. It is confined to females ; and, I am told,
it afforded a hint for the story oi Betty Broom in " The
Idler." Johnson this year, I find, obtained for it a
sermon from the late Bishop of St. Asaph, Dr. Shipley,
whom he, in one of his letters to Mrs. Thrale, charac-
terises as " knowing and conversible ;" and whom all
who knew his Lordship, even those who differed from
him in politicks, remember with much respect.
The Earl of Carlisle having written a tragedy, en-
titled " The Father's Revenge," some of his Lord-
ship's friends applied to Mrs. Chapone, to prevail on
Dr. Johnson to read and give his opinion of it, which
he accordingly did, in a letter to that lady. Sir Joshua
Reynolds having informed me that this letter was in
Lord Carlisle's possession, though I was not fortunate
enough to have the honour of being known to his
' [In his Will Dr. Johnson left her a book " at her election, to keep as a token of
remembrance." M.]
[This excellent woman died September 13, 1789, aged 74. A. C-]
344 THE LIFE OF
1783. Lordship, trusting to the general courtesy of hterature,
^J^ I wrote to him, requesting the favour of a copy of it,
74. * and to be permitted to insert it in my hfe of Dr. John-
son. His Lordship was so good as to comply with my
request, and has thus enabled me to enrich my work
with a very fine piece of writing, which displays both
the critical skill and politeness of my illustrious friend ;
and perhaps the curiosity which it will excite, may
induce the noble and elegant Authour to gratify the
world by the publication* of a performance, of which
Dr. Johnson has spoken in such terms.
" TO MRS. CHAPOXE.
" MADAM,
" By sending the tragedy to me a second time,^ I
think that a very honourable distinction has been shewn
me, and 1 did not delay the perusal, of which 1 am now
to tell the effect.
" The construction of the play is not completely reg-
ular ; the stage is too often vacant, and the scenes are
not sufficiently connected. This, however, would be
called by Dryden only a mechanical defect ; which
takes away little from the power of the poem, and
which is seen rather than felt.
" A rigid examiner of the diction might, perhaps,
wish some words changed, and some lines more vigo-
rously terminated. But from such petty imperfections
what writer was ever free ?
" The general form and force of the dialogue is of
more importance. It seems to want that quickness of
reciprocation which characterises the English drama,
and is not always sufficiently fervid or animated.
" Of the sentiments, 1 remember not one that I wish-
ed omitted. In the imagery 1 cannot forbear to dis-
tinguish the comparison of joy succeeding grief to light
rushing on the eye accustomed to darkness. It seems
* A few copies only of this tragedy have been printed, and given to the authour 's
friends.
^ Dr. Johnson having been very ill when the tragedy was first sent to him, had
declined the consideration of it.
DR. JOHNSON. 34^
to have all that can be desired to make it please. It is '783.
new, just, and delightful. "^ ^xsx.
" With the characters, either as conceived or preserv- 74. *
ed, I have no fault to find ; but was much inclined to
congratulate a writer, who, in defiance of prejudice and
fashion, made the Archbishop a good man, and scorned
all thoughtless applause, which a vicious churchman
would have brought him.
" The catastrophe is affecting. The Father and
Daughter both culpable, both wretched, and both pen-
itent, divide between them our pity and our sorrow.
" Thus, Madam, 1 have performed what I did not
willingly undertake, and could not decently refuse.
The noble writer will be pleased to remember that sin-
cere criticism ought to raise no resentment, because
judgement is not under the control of will ; but invol-
untary criticism, as it has still less of choice, ought to
be more remote from possibility of offence.
" I am, &c.
« Nov. 28, 1783. " SaxM. Johnson.''
I consulted him on two questions of a very different
nature : one, whether the unconstitutional influence
exercised by the Peers of Scotland in the election of
the representatives of the Commons, by means of ficti-
tious qualifications, ought not to be resisted ; — the other.
What in propriety and humanity, should be done with
old horses unable to labour. I gave him some account
of my life at Auchinleck ; and expressed my satisfac-
tion that the gentlemen of the county had, at two pub-
lick meetings, elected me their Presses, or Chairman.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" Like all other men who have great friends, you
begin to feel the pangs of neglected merit ; and all the
* " I could have bom my woes ; that stranger joy
" Wounds while it smiles : — The long-imprison'd wretch,
" Emerging from the night of his damp cell,
" Shrinks from the sun's bright beams ; and that which flings
" Gladness o'er all, to him is agony."
VOL. III. 44
3i6 THE LIFE OF
1783. comfort that 1 can give you is, by telling you that you
]JJ^ have probably more pangs to feel, and more neglect to
74. suffer. You have, indeed, begun to complain too soon ;
and 1 hope I am the only confidant of your discontent.
Your friends have not yet had leisure to gratify per-
sonal kindness ; they have hitherto been busy in
strengthening their ministerial interest. If a vacancy
happens in Scotland, give them early intelligence : and
as you can serve Government as povi'erfuUy as any of
your probable competitors, you may make in some sort
a warrantable claim.
" Of the exaltations and depressions of your mind
you delight to talk, and 1 hate to hear. Drive all such
fancies from you.
" On the day when I received your letter, I think, the
foregoing page was written ; to which one disease or
another has hindered me from making any additions.
I am now a little better. But sickness and solitude
press me very heavily. 1 could bear sickness better, if
I were relieved from solitude.
" The present dreadful confusion of the publick
ought to make you wrap yourself up in your hereditary
possessions, which, though less than you may wish, are
more than you can want ; and in an hour of religious re-
tirement return thanks to God, who has exempted you
from any strong temptation to faction, treachery, plun-
der, and disloyalty.
" As your neighbours distinguish you by such hon-
ours as they can bestow, content yourself with your
station, without neglecting your profession. Your es-
tate and the Courts will find you full employment, and
your mind well occupied will be quiet.
" The usurpation of the nobility, for they apparently
usurp all the influence they gain by fraud and misrep-
resentation, I think it certainly lawful, perhaps your
duty, to resist. What is not their own, they have only
by robbery.
" Your question about the horses gives me more per-
plexity, I know not well what advice to give you. I
can only recommend a rule which you do not want ; —
give as little pain as you can. I suppose that we have
DR. JOHNSON. 347
a right to their service while their strength lasts ; what 1783.
we can do with them afterwards, I cannot so easily ^T^
determine. But let us consider. Nobody denies, that 74.
man has a right first to milk the cow, and to shear
the sheep, and then to kill them for his table. May
he not, by parity of reason, first work a horse, and then
kill him. the easiest way, that he may have the means
of another horse, or food for cows and sheep ? Man is
influenced in both cases by different motives of self-
interest. He that rejects the one must reject the
other.
" I am, &c.
" London, Dec. 24, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
" A happy and pious Christmas ; and many happv
yeai-s to you, your lady, and children."
The late ingenious Mr. Mickle, some time before his
death, wrote me a letter concerning Dr. Johnson, in
which he mentions, " I was upwards of twelve years
acquainted with him, was frequently in his company,
always talked with ease to him, and can truly say, that
I never received from him one rough word."
In this letter he relates his having, while engaged in
translating the Lusiad, had a dispute of considerable
length with Johnson, who, as usual declaimed upon
the misery and corruption of a sea life, and used this
expression : — " It had been happy for the world, Sir,
if your hero Gama, Prince Henry of Portugal, and
Columbus, had never been born, or that their schemes
had never gone farther than their own imaginations." —
" This sentiment, (says Mr. Mickle,) which is to be
found in his ' Introduction to the World displayed,' I,
in my Dissertation prefixed to the Lusiad, have con-
troverted ; and though authours are said to be bad
judges of their own works, I am not ashamed to own
to a friend, that that dissertation is my favourite above
all that I ever attempted in prose. Next year, when
the Lusiad was published, 1 waited on Dr. Johnson,
who addressed me with one of his good-humoured
smiles : — ' Well, you have remembered our dispute
348 THE LIFE OF
1783. about Prince Henry, and have cited me too. You
^JJ^ have done your part very well indeed : you have made
74. the best of' your argument ; but 1 am not convinced
* yet.'
" Before publishing the Lusiad, I sent Mr. Hoole a
proof of that part of the introduction, in which 1 make
mention of Dr. Johnson, yourself, and other well-wish-
ers to the work, begging it might be shewn to Dr.
Johnson. This was accordingly done ; and in place
of the simple mention of him which 1 had made, he
dictated to Mr. Hoole the sentence as it now stands.
" Dr. Johnson told me in 1772, that, about twenty
years before that time, he himself had a design to trans-
late the Lusiad, of the merit of which he spoke highly,
but had been prevented by a number of other engage-
ments."
Mr. Mickle reminds me in this letter, of a conver-
sation at dinner one day at Mr. Hoole's with Dr.
Johnson, when Mr. Nicol the king's Bookseller, and
I, attempted to controvert the maxmi, " better that
ten guilty should escape, than one innocent person
sutler ;" and were answered by Dr. Johnson with great
power of reasoning and eloquence. I am very sorry
that 1 have no record of that day : but I well recollect
my illustrious friend's having ably shewn that unless
civil institutions ensure protection to the innocent, all
the confidence which mankind should have in them
would be lost.
1 shall here mention what, in strict chronological
arrangement, should have appeared in my account of
last year ; but may more properly be introduced here,
the controversy havin^' not been closed till this. The
Reverend Mr. Shaw, a native of one of the Hebrides,
having entertained doubts of the authenticity of the
poems ascribed to Ossian, divested himself of national
bigotry ; and having travelled in the Highlands and
Islands of Scotland, and also in Ireland, in order to
furnish himself with materials for a Gaelick Diction-
ary, which he afterwards compiled, was so fully satis-
fied that Dr. Johnson was in the right upon the
question, that he candidly published a pamphlet, stat-
DR. JOHNSON. 349
jng his conviction, and the proofs and reasons on which '783.
it was founded. A person at Edinburgh, of the name ^^^
of Clark, answered this pamphlet with much zeal, and 74.*
much abuse of its authour. Johnson took Mr. Shaw
under his protection, and gave him his assistance in
writing a reply, which has been admired by the best
judges, and by many been considered as conclusive.
A few paragraphs, which sufficiently mark their great
Authour, shall be selected.
" My assertions are, for the most part, purely nega-
tive : 1 deny the existence of Fingal, because in a long
and curious peregrination through the Gaelick regions
I have never been able to find it. What 1 could not
see myself 1 suspect to be equally invisible to others ;
and 1 suspect with the more reason, as among all those
who have seen it no man can shew it.
" Mr. Clark compares the obstinacy of those who
disbelieve the genuineness of Ossian to a blind man,
who should dispute the reality of colours, and deny
that the British troops are clothed in red. The blind
man's doubt would be rational, if he did not know by
experience that others have a power which he himself
wants : but what perspicacity has Mr. Clark which
Nature has withheld from me or the rest of mankind I
" The true stale of the parallel must be this. Sup-
pose a man, with eyes like his neighbours, was told by
a boasting corporal, that the troops, indeed, wore red
clothes tor their ordinary dress, but that every soldier
had likewise a suit of black velvet, which he put on
when the King reviews them. This he thinks strange,
and desires to see the fine clothes, but finds nobody in
forty thousand men that can produce either coat or
waistcoat. One, indeed, has left them in his chest at
Port Mahon ; another has always heard that he ought
to have velvet clothes somewhere ; and a third has
heard somebody say, that soldiers ought to wear velvet.
Can the enquirer be blamed if he goes away believing
that a soldier's red coat is all that he has ?
*' But the most obdurate incredulity may be shamed
or silenced by facts. To overpower contradictions, let
:350 THE LIFE OF
1783. the soldier shew his velvet coat, and the Fingalist the
^^ original of Ossian.
74. " The difference between us and the blind man is
this : the blind man is unconvinced, because he cannot
see ; and we, because, though we can see, we find that
nothing can be shown."
Notwithstanding the complication of disorders under
which Johnson now laboured, he did not resign himself
to despondency and discontent, but with wisdom and
spirit endeavoured to console and amuse his mind with
as many innocent enjoyments as he could procure.
Sir John Hawkins has mentioned the cordiality with
which he insisted that such of the members of the old
club in Ivy-lane as survived, should meet again and
dine together, which they did, twice at a tavern, and
once at his house : and in order to ensure himself so-
ciety in the evening for three days in the week, he
instituted a club at the Essex-head, in Essex-street,
then kept by Samuel Greaves, an old servant of Mr.
Thrale's.
" to sir joshua reynolds.
"dear sir,
" It is inconvenient to me to come out ; I should
else have waited on you with an account of a little
evening Club which we are establishing in Essex-
street, in the Strand, and of which you ere desired to
be one. It will be held at the Essex-Head, now kept
by an old servant of Thrale's. The company is nu-
merous, and, as you will see by the list, miscellane-
ous. The terms are lax, and the expenses light. Mr.
Barry was adopted by Dr. Brocklesby, who joined with
me in forming the plan. We meet thrice a week, and
he who misses forfeits two-pence.
" If you are willing to become a member, draw a
line under your name. Return the list. We meet for
the first time on Monday at eight.
" I am, &c.
''Dec. 4, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
DR. JOHNSON. 361
It did not suit Sir Joshua to be one of this Club. 1783.
"But when 1 mention only Mr. Daines Harrington, Dr. J^
Brocklesby, Mr. Murphy, Mr. John Nichols, Mr. 74. '
Cooke, Mr. Joddrel, Mr. Paradise, Dr. Horsley, Mr.
Windham,^ 1 shall sufficiently, obviate the misrepre-
sentation of it by Sir John Havvkms, as if it had been
a low ale-house association, by which Johnson was de-
graded. Johnson himself, like his namesake Old Ben,
composed the Rules of his Club.^
In the end of this year he was seized with a spas-
modick asthma of such violence, that he vt^as confined
^ I was in Scotland when this Club was founded, and during all the winter.
Johnson, however, declared I should be a member, and invented a word upon the
occasion : " Boswell, (said he) is a very cluhahh man." When I came to town, I
was proposed by Mr. Barrington, and chosen. I believe there are few societies
where there is better conversation or more decorum. Several of us resolved to
continue it after our great founder was removed by death. Other members were
added ; and now, above eight years since that loss, we go on happily.
■ Rules.
" To-day deep thoughts with me resolve to drench
" In mirth, which after no repenting draws." — Milton.
" The Club shall consist of four-and-twenty.
" The meetings shall be on the Monday, Thursday, and Saturday of every week ;
but in the week before Easter there shall be no meeting.
" Every member is at liberty to introduce a friend once a week, but not oftener.
" Two members shall oblige themselves to attend in their turn every night
from eight to ten, or to procure two to attend in their room.
" Every member present at the Club shall spend at least sixpence ; and every
member who stays away shall forfeit three-pence
" The master of the house shall keep an account of the absent members : and
deliver to the President of the night a list of the forfeits incurred.
" When any member returns after absence, he shall immediately lay down his
forfeits ; which if he omits to do, the President shall require.
" There shall be no general reckoning, but every man shall adjust his own
expences.
" The night of indispensable attendance wll come to every member once a
month. Whoever shall for three months together omit to attend himself, or by
substitution, nor shall make any apology' in the fourth month, shall be considered
as having abdicated the Club.
" When a vacancy is to be filled, the name of the candidate, and of the mem-
ber recommending him, shall stand in the Club-room three nights. On the fourth
he may be chosen by ballot ; six members at least being present, and two-thirds of
the ballot being in his favour ; or the majority, should the numbers not be divis-
ible by three.
" The master of the house shall give notice, six days before, to each of those
members whose turn of necessary attendance is come.
" The notice may be in these words : — '■ Sir, On the of ,
wlU be your turn of presiding at the Essex-Head. Your company is therefore
earnestly requested.'
" One penny shall be left by each member for the waiter."
Johnson's definition of a Club in this sense, in his Dictionary, is, " An assembly
of good fellows, meeting under certain conditions."
352 THE LIFE OF
1783. to the house in great pain, being sometimes obliged to
^j^sit all night in his chair, a recumbent posture being so
74. hurtful to his respiration, that he could not endure ly-
ing in bed ; and there came upon him at the same time
that oppressive and fatal disease, a dropsy. It was a
very severe winter, which probably aggravated his com-
plaints ; and the solitude in which Mr. Levet and Mrs.
Williams had left him, rendered his life very gloomy.
Mrs. Desmoulins, who still lived, was herself so very ill,
that she could contribute very little to his relief. He,
however, had none of that unsocial shyness which we
commonly see in people afflicted with sickness. He
did not hide his head from the world, in solitary ab-
straction ; he did not deny himself to the visits of his
friends and acquaintances ; but at all times, when he
was not overcome by sleep, was ready for conversation
as in his best days.
" TO MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" DEAR MADAM,
" You may perhaps think me negligent that I have
not written to you again upon the loss of your brother;
but condolences and consolations are such common and
such useless things, that the omission of them is no
great crime : and my own diseases occupy my mind,
and engage my care. My nights are miserably restless,
and my days, therefore, are heavy. I try, however, to
hold up my head as high as I can.
" 1 am sorry that your health is impaired ; perhaps
the spring and the summer may, in some degree, restore
it ; but if not, we must submit to the inconvenienoies
of time, as to the other dispensations of Eternal Good-
ness. Pray for me, and write to me, or let Mr. Pear-
son write for you.
" I am, &c.
" London, Nov. 29, 1783. " Sam. Johnson."
And now I am arrived at the last year of the life of
Samuel Johnson, a year in which, although passed in
severe indisposition, he nevertheless gave many eviden-
DR. JOHNSON. 353
ces of the continuance of those wonderous powers of '784.
mind, which raised him so high in the intellectual^.'^
world. His conversation and his letters of this year 75.'
were in no respect inferiour to those of former years.
The following is a remarkable proof of his being alive
to the most minute curiosities of literature.
" TO MR. DILLY, BOOKSELLER, IN THE POULTRY.
" SIR,
" There is in the world a set of books which used
to be sold by the booksellers on the bridge, and which
I must entreat you to procure me. They are called,
Burtoii's Books, -^ the title of one is Admirable Curios-
ities^ Rarities^ and Wonders in England. 1 believe
there are about five or six of them ; they seem very
proper to allure backward readers ; be so kind as to get
thein for me, and send me them with the best printed
edition of ' Baxter's Call to the Unconverted.'
" 1 am, &c.
^^ Jan. 6, 1784. "Sam. Johnson."
" TO MR. PERKINS.
" DEAR SIR,
" I WAS very sorry not to see you when you were
so kind as to call on me ; but to disappoint friends, and
if they are not very good-natured, to disoblige them, is
one of the evils of sickness. If you will please to let
me know which of the afternoons in this week 1 shall
' [The following list comprises several of these books ; but probably is incom-
plete :
1. Historical Remarques on London and Westminster 1681
2. Wars in England, Scotland, and Ireland 1681
3. Wonderful Prodigies 1 681
4. English Empire in America 1685
5. Surprizing Miracles of Nature and Art 1 685
7. History of Scotland and Ireland 1685
8. Nine Worthies of the World 1687
9. The English Hero, or Sir Francis Drake 1687
10. Memorable Accidents, and unheard-of Transactions 1693
1 1. History of Oliver Cromwell 1 698
12. Unparalleled Varieties 1699
M.]
VOL. III. 45
35A THE LIFE OF
1784. be favoured with another visit by you and Mrs. Perkins,
^^ and the young people, 1 will take all the measures that
75. 1 can to be pretty well at that time. I am, dear Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Jan. 21, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
His attention to the Essex-head Club appears from
the following letter to Mr. Alderman Clark, a gentle-
man for whom he deservedly entertained a great regard.
" TO RICHARD CLARK, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" You will receive a requisition, according to the
rules of the Club, to be at the house as President of the
night. This turn comes once a month, and the mem-
ber is obliged to attend, or send another in his place.
You were enrolled in the Club by my invitation, and I
ought to introduce you ; but as 1 am hindered by sick-
ness, Mr. Hoole will very properly supply my place as
introductor, or yours as President. I hope in milder
weather to be a very constant attendant.
" I am, Sir, &c.
" Jan. 27, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
" You ought to be informed that the forfeits began
with the year, and that every night of non-attendaace
incurs the mulct of three-pence, that is, nine-pence a
week."
On the 8th of January I wrote to him, anxiously en-
quiring as to his health, and enclosing my " Letter to
the People of Scotland, on the present state of the na-
tion."— " 1 trust, (said 1,) that you will be liberal enough
to make allowance for my differing from you on two
points, [the Middlesex Election, and the American
War,] when my general principles of government are
according to your own heart, and when, at a crisis of
doubtful event, I stand forth with honest zeal as an an-
cient and faithful Briton. My reason for introducing
those two points was, that as my opinions with regard
DR. JOHNSON. 355
to them had been declared at the periods when they 1784.
were least favourable, 1 might have the credit of a man ^^^^
who is not a worshipper of ministerial power.^' 75.
" to james boswell, esq.
"dear sir,
" 1 HEAR of many enquiries which your kindness
has disposed you to make after me. 1 have long in-
tended you a long letter, which perhaps the imagina-
tion of its length hindered me from beginning. 1 will,
therefore, content myself with a shorter.
" Having promoted the institution of a new Club in
the neighbourhood, at the house of an old servant of
Thrale's, 1 went thither to meet the company, and was
seized with a spasmodick asthma, so violent, that with
difficulty I got to my own house, in which I have been
confined eight or nine weeks, and from which I know
not when 1 shall be able to go even to church. The
asthma, however, is not the worst. A dropsy gains
ground upon me ; my legs and thighs are very much
swollen with water, which 1 should be content if I
could keep there, but 1 am afraid that it will soon be
higher. My nights are very sleepless and very tedious.
And yet 1 am extremely afraid of dying.
" My physicians try to make me hope, that much of
my malady is the effect of cold, and that some degree
at least of recovery is to be expected from vernal
breezes and summer suns. If my life is prolonged to
autumn, 1 should be glad to try a warmer climate ;
though how to travel with a diseased body, without a
companion to conduct me, and with very little money,
I do not well see. Ramsay has recovered his limbs in
Italy ; and Fielding was sent to Lisbon, where, indeed,
he died ; but he was, 1 believe, past hope when he
went. Think for me what 1 can do.
" 1 received your pamphlet, and when I write again
may perhaps tell you some opinion about it ; but you
will forgive a man struggling with disease his neglect
of disputes, politicks, and pamphlets. Let me have
your prayers. My compliments to your lady, and
3d6 THE LIFE OF
1784. young ones. Ask your physicians about my case : and
^t^ desire Sir Alexander Dick to write me his opinion.
75. " 1 am, dear Sir, &c.
" Feb. 11, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
" to MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
" MY DEAREST LOVE,
" I HAVE been extremely ill of an asthma and
dropsy, but received by the mercy of God, sudden,
and unexpected relief last Thursday, by the discharge
of twenty pints of water. Whether I shall continue
free, or shall fill again, cannot be told. Pray for me.
" Death, my dear, is very dreadful ; let us think
nothing worth our care but how to prepare for it ;
what we know amiss in ourselves let us make haste to
amend, and put our trust in the mercy of God, and
the intercession of our Saviour. I am, dear Madam,
" Your most humble servant,
" Feb. 23, 1784. " Sam. Johnson.''
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" 1 HAVE just advanced so far towards recovery as
to read a pamphlet ; and you may reasonably suppose
that the first pamphlet which 1 read was yours. 1 am
very much of your opinion, and, like you, feel great
indignation at the indecency with which the King is
every day treated. Your paper contains very consid-
erable knowledge of history and of the constitution,
very properly produced and applied. It will certainly
raise your character, ^ though perhaps it may not make
you a Minister of State.
' I sent it to Mr. Pitt, with a letter, in which I thus expressed myself: " My
principles may appear to you too monarchical : but I know and am persuaded, they
are not inconsistent with the true principles of liberty. Be this as it may, you.
Sir, are now the Prime Minister, called by the Sovereign to maintain the right of
the Crown, as well as those of the people, against a violent faction. As such, you
are entitled to the warmest support of every good subject in every department."
He answered, " I am extremely obliged to you for the sentiments you do me the
honour to express, and have observed with great pleasure the xealous and able
support given to the Cause of the Publick in the work you were so good to
transmit to me."
DR. JOHNSON. 357
****** 1784.
" I desire you to see Mrs. Stewart once again, and ^^
tell her, that in the letter-case was a letter relating to 75. '
me, for which I will give her, if she is willing to give
it me, another guinea. The letter is of consequence
only to me.
" I am, dear Sir, &c.
" London, Feb. 27, 1784. " Sam. Johnson.'
3>
In consequence of Johnson's request that 1 should
ask our physicians about his case, and desire Sir Alex-
ander Dick to send his opinion, 1 transmitted him a
letter from that very amiable Baronet, then in his
eighty-first year, with his faculties as entire as ever :
and mentioned his expressions to me in the note ac-
companying it, — " With my most affectionate wishes
for Dr. Johnson's recovery, in which his friends, his
country, and all mankind have so deep a stake ;" and
at the same time a full opinion upon his case by Dr.
Gillespie, who, like Dr. Cullen, had the advantage of
having passed through the gradations of surgery and
pharmacy, and by study and practice had attained to
such skill, that my father settled on him two hundred
pounds a year for five years, and fifty pounds a year
during his life, as an honorarium to secure his particu-
lar attendance. The opinion was conveyed in a letter
to me, beginning, " 1 am sincerely sorry for the bad
state of health your very learned and illustrious friend,
Dr. Johnson, labours under at present."
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'' DEAR SIR,
" Presently after I had sent away my last letter,
1 received your kind medical packet. 1 am very much
obliged both to you and to your physicians for your
kind attention to my disease. Dr. Gillespie has sent
me an excellent consilium 7nediciim, all solid practical
experimental knowledge. I am at present in the opin-
ion of my physicians, (Dr. Heberden and Dr. Brock-
lesby,) as well as my own, going on very hopefully. I
358 THE LIFE OF
1784. have just begun to take vinegar of squills. The
Sat! P^^^^^ hurt my stomach so much, that it could not be
75. continued.
" Return Sir Alexander Dick my sincere thanks for
his kind letter; and bring with you the rhubarb' which
he so tenderly offers me.
" 1 hope dear Mrs. Boswell is now quite well, and
that no evil, either real or imaginary, now disturbs you.
" 1 am, &c.
" London, March 2, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
I also applied to three of the eminent physicians who
had chairs in our celebrated school of medicine at Ed-
inburgh, Doctors Cullen, Hope, and Munro, to each
of whom I sent the following letter :
" DEAR SIR,
" Dr. Johnson has been very ill for some time ;
and in a letter of anxious apprehension he writes to
me, ' Ask your physicians about my case.'
" This you see, is not authority for a regular con-
sultation : but I have no doubt of your readiness to
give your advice to a man so eminent, and who, in his
Life of Garth, has paid your profession a just and ele-
gant compliment : " I believe every man has found in
physicians great liberality and dignity of sentiment,
very prompt effusions of beneficence, and willingness
to exert a lucrative art, where there is no hope of
lucre."
" Dr. Johnson is aged seventy-four. Last summer
he had a stroke of the palsy, from which he recovered
almost entirely. He had, before that, been troubled
with a catarrhous cough. This winter he was seized
with a spasmodick asthma, by which he has been con-
fined to his house for about three months. Dr. Brock-
lesby writes to me, that upon the least admission of
cold, there is such a constriction upon his breast, that
he cannot lie down in his bed, but is obliged to sit up
' From his garden at Prestonfield, where he cultivated that plant with such suc-
cess, that he was presented with a gold medal by the Society of London for the
Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce.
DR. JOHNSON. 359
all night, and gets rest and sometimes sleep, only by 1784.
means of laudanum and syrup of poppies; and that ^J^^
there are osdematous tumours in his legs and thighs. 75. *
Dr. Brocklesby trusts a good deal to the return of mild
weather. Dr. Johnson says, that a dropsy gains ground
upon him ; and he seems to think that a warmer cli-
mate would do him good. 1 understand he is now
rather better, and is using vinegar of squills. 1 am,
with great esteem, dear Sir,
" Your most obedient humble servant,
" March 7, 1784. " James Boswell."
All of them paid the most polite attention to my
letter, and its venerable object. Dr. Cullen's words
concerning him were, " It would give me the greatest
pleasure to be of any service to a man whom the pub-
lick properly esteem, and whom I esteem and respect
as much as I do Dr. Johnson." Dr. Hope's, "Few
people have a better claim on me than your friend, as
hardly a day passes that I do not ask his opinion about
this or that word." Dr. Munro's, " 1 most sincerely
join you in sympathising with that very worthy and
ingenious character, from whom his country has deriv-
ed much instruction and entertainment."
Dr. Hope corresponded with his friend Dr. Blocklesby.
Doctors Cullen and Munro wrote their opinions and
prescriptions to me, which I afterwards carried with
me to London, and, so far as they were encouraging,
communicated to Johnson. The liberality on one
hand, and grateful sense of it on the other, I have
great satisfaction in recording.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" I AM too much pleased with the attention which
you and your dear lady^ show to my welfare, not to
be diligent in letting you know the progress which I
make towards health. The dropsy, by God's blessing,
- Who had written him a very kind letter.
360 THE LIFE OP
1784. has now run almost totally away bv natural evacuation :
"^^^ and the asthma, if not irritated by cold, gives me httle
75, trouble. While I am writing this, 1 have not any
sensation of debility or disease. But 1 do not yet ven-
ture out, having been confined to the house from the
thirteenth of December, now a quarter of a year.
" When it will be fit for me to travel as far as
Aui'hinleck, I am not able to guess ; but such a letter
as Mrs. Boswell's might draw any man, not wholly
motionless, a great way. Pray tell the dear lady how
much her civility and kindness have touched and grat-
ified me.
" Our parliamentary tumults have now begun to
subside, and the King's authority is in some measure
re-established. Mr. Pitt will have great power ; but
you must remember, that what he has to give, must,
at least for some time, be given to those who gave, and
those who preserve, his power. A new minister can
sacrifice little to esteem or friendship ; he must, till he
is settled, think only of extending his interest.
yf yp w ^ ^ ^
"If you come hither through Edinburgh, send for
Mrs. Stewart, and give from me another guinea for the
letter in the old case, to which 1 shall not be satisfied
with my claim, till she gives it me.
" Please to bring with you Baxter's Anacreon ; and
if you procure heads of Hector Boece, the historian,
and Arthur Johnston, the poet, 1 will put them in my
room ; or any other of the father's of Scottish literature.
" 1 wish you an easy and happy journey, and hope
I need not tell you that you will be welcome to, dear
Sir,
" Your most affectionate humble servant,
" London, March 18, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
I wrote to him, March 28, from York, informing him
that I had a high gratification in the triumph of mo-
narchical principles over aristocratical influence, in that
great countv, in an address to the King ; that 1 was
thus far on my way to him, but that news of the disso-
lution of Parliament having arrived, 1 was to hasten
DR. JOHNSON. 261
back to my own county, where I had carried an Address 1784.
to his Majesty by a great majority, and had some in- j^J^
tention of being a candidate to represent the county in 75. *
Parliament.
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" You could do nothing so proper as to hasten
back when you found the Parliament dissolved. With
the influence which your address must have gained
you, it may reasonably be expected that your presence
will be of importance, and your activity of effect.
" Your solicitude for me gives me that pleasure
which every man feels from the kindness of such a
friend ; and it is with delight 1 relieve it by telling, that
Dr. Brockksby's account is true, and that I am, by
the blessing of God, wonderfully relieved.
*' You are entering upon a transaction which re-
quires much prudence. You must endeavour to
oppose without exasperating ; to practise temporary
hostility, without producing enemies for life. This is,
perhaps, hard to be done ; yet it has been done by
many, and seems most likely to be effected by oppos-
ing merely upon general principles, without descending
to personal or particular censures or objections. One
thing 1 must enjoin you, which is seldom observed in
the conduct of elections ; — I must entreat you to be
scrupulous in the use of strong liquors. One night^s
drunkenness may defeat the labours of forty days well
employed. Be firm, but not clamorous ; be active,
but not malicious ; and you may form such an interest,
as may not only exalt yourself, but dignify your family.
" We are, as you may suppose, all busy here. Mr.
Fox resolutely stands for W^estminster, and his friends
say will carry the election. However that be, he will
certainly have a seat. Mr. Hoole has just told me,
that the city leans towards the King.
" Let me hear from time to time, how you are em-
ployed, and what progress you make.
" Make dear Mrs. Boswell, and all the young Bos-
voL. III. A6
362 THE LIFE OF
1784. wells, the sincere compliments of, Sir, your affection-
^J^ ate humble servant,
75,. ' " London, March 30, 1784. " Sam. Johxson."
To Mr. Langton he wrote with that cordiality which
was suitable to the long friendship which had subsisted
between him and that gentleman.
March 27. " Since you left me, I have continued
in my own opinion, and in Dr. Brocklesby's, to grow
better with respect to all my formidable and dangerous
distempers ; though to a body battered and shaken as
mine has lately been, it is to be feared that weak at-
tacks may be sometimes mischievous. I have, indeed,
by standing carelessly at an open window, got a very
troublesome cough, which it has been necessary to
appease by opium, in larger quantities than 1 like to
take, and I have not found it give way so readily as I
expected ; its obstinacy, however, seems at last dis-
posed to submit to the remedy, and 1 know not whether
I should then have a right to complain of any morbid
sensation. My asthma is, I am afraid, constitutional
' and incurable ; but it is only occasional, and unless it
be excited by labour or by cold, gives me no molesta-
tion, nor does it lay very close siege to life ; for Sir
John Floyer, whom the physical race consider as au-
thour of one of the best books upon it, panted on
to ninety, as was supposed ; and why were we con-
tent with supposing a fact so interesting, of a man so
conspicuous I because he corrupted, at perhaps seventy
or eighty, the register, that he might pass for younger
than he was. He was not much less than eighty,
when to a man of rank who modestly asked his age,
he answered, ' Go look ;' though he was in general a
man of civility and elegance.
" The ladies, I find, are at your house all well,
except Miss Langton, who will probably soon recover
her health by light suppers. Let her eat at dinner as
she will, but not take a full stomach to bed. — Pay my
sincere respects to dear Miss Langton in Lincolnshire,
let her know that I mean not to break our league of
DR. JOHNSON. 363
friendship, and that I have a set of Lives for her, when '784.
I have the means of sending it." Mt^
April 8. " 1 am still disturbed by my cough ; but 75.
what thanks have 1 not to pay, when my cough is the
most painful sensation that 1 feel ? and from that 1
expect hardly to be released, while winter continues to
gripe us with so much pertinacity. The 3'ear has now
advanced eighteen days beyond the equinox, and still
there is very little remission of the cold. When warm
weather comes, which surely must come at last, I hope
it will help both me and your young lady.
" The man so busy about addresses is neither more
nor less than our own Boswell, who had come as far as
York towards London, but turned back on the disso-
lution, and is said now to stand for some place.
Whether to wish him success, his best friends hesitate.
" Let me have your prayers for the completion of
my recovery : I am now better than I ever expected
to have been. May God add to his mercies the grace
that may enable me to use them according to his will.
My compliments to all."
April 13. "I had this evening a note from Lord
Portmore,^ desiring that I would give you an account
of my health. You might have had it with less cir-
cumduction. I am, by God's blessing, I believe free
from all morbid sensations, except a cough, which is
only troublesome. But 1 am still weak, and can have
no great hope of strength till the weather shall be
softer. The summer, if it be kindly, will, I hope,
enable me to support the winter. God, who has so
wonderfully restored me, can preserve me in all seasons.
" Let me enquire in my turn after the state of your
family, great and little. 1 hope Lady Rothes and Miss
Langton are both well. That is a good basis of content.
Then how goes George on with his studies ? How does
Miss Mary ? And how does my own Jenny 1 1 think I
^ To which Johnson returned this answer :
" TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EARL OF rORTMORE.
"Dr. Johnson acknowledges with great respect the honour of I.ord Port'
more's notice. He is better than he was ; and will, as his Lordship directs, write
t'9 Mr. Langton.
" Bolt-court, Fleet-street, Apr. 13, 1784."
364 THE LIFE OF
1784. owe Jenny a letter, which 1 will take care to pay. In
^J^ the mean time tell her that 1 acknowledge the debt.
75.' " Be pleased to make my compliments to the ladies.
If Mrs. Langton comes to London, she will favour me
with a visit, for 1 am not well enough to go out."
" TO OZIAS HUMPHRY,* ESQ.
"SIR,
" Mr. Hoole has told me with what benevolence
you listened to a request which I was almost afraid to
make, of leave to a young painter ^ to attend you from
time to time in your painting-room, to see your opera-
tions, and receive your instructions.
" The young man has perhaps good parts, but has
been without a regular education. He is my god-son,
and therefore 1 interest myself in his progress and suc-
cess, and shall think myself much favoured if 1 receive
from you a permission to send him.
" My health is, by God's blessing, much restored,
but I am not yet allowed by my physicians to go
abroad ; nor, indeed, do 1 think myself yet able to en-
dure the weather. 1 am, Sir,
" Your most humble Servant,
" Aprils, IZS^. " Sam. Johnson."
" to the same.
" sir,
" The bearer is my god-son, whom I take the lib-
erty of recommending to your kindness ; which 1 hope
'' The eminent painter, representative of the ancient family of Homfrey (now
Humphry) in the west of England ; who, as appears from their arms which they
have invariably used, have been, (as I have seen authenticated by the best author-
ity,) one of those among the Knights and Esquires of honour who are represented
by Holinshed as having issued from the Tower of 1/Ondon on coursers apparalled
for the justes, accompanied by ladies of honour, leading every one a Knight, with
a chain of gold, passing through the streets of London into Smithfield, on Sunday,
at three o'clock in the afternoon, being the first Sunday after Michaelmas, in the
fourteenth year of King Richard the Second. Tliis family once enjoyed large
possessions, but, like others, have lost them in the progress of ages. Their blood,
however, remains to them well ascertained ; and they may hope in the revolution
of events, to recover that rank in society for which, in modern times, fortune
seems to be an indispensable requisite.
' Son of Mr. Samuel Patterson, eminent for his knowledge of books.
DR. JOHNSON. 365
he will deserve by his respect to your excellence, and »784.
his gratitude for your favours. JtaT
" 1 am, Sir, 75. '
" Your most humble servant,
''April 10, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO THE SAME.
" SIR,
" I AM very much obliged by your civilities to my
god-son, but must beg of you to add to them the fa-
vour of permitting him to see you paint, that he may
know how a picture is begun, advanced, and completed.
" if he may attend you in a few of your operations,
I hope he will shew that the benefit has been properly
conferred, both by his proficiency and his gratitude.
At least 1 shall consider you as enlarging your kindness
to, Sir,
" Your humble servant,
" May 31, 1784. " Sam. Johnson.'
»
" TO THE REVEREND DR. TAYLOR, ASHBOURNE,
DERBYSHIRE.
" DEAR SIR,
" V7hat can be the reason that T hear nothing
from you \ I hope nothing disables you from writing.
What I have seen, and what 1 have felt, gives me reason
to fear every thing. Do not omit giving me the com-
fort of knowing, that after all my losses 1 have yet a
friend left.
" I want every comfort. My life is very solitary
and very cheerless. Though it has pleased God won-
derfully to deliver me from the dropsy. 1 am yet very
weak, and have not passed the door since the 13th of
December. J hope for some help from warm weather,
which will surely come in time.
" I could not have the consent of the phj^sicians to
go to church yesterday ; 1 therefore received the holy
sacrament at home, in the room where 1 communicated
with dear Mrs. Williams, a little before her death. O !
my friend, the approach of death is very dreadful. I
am afraid to think on that which 1 know I cannot
366 THE LIFE OF
1784. avoid. It is vain to look round and round for that
2J^ help which cannot be had. Yet we hope and hope,
75. and fancy that he who has Hved to-day may Hve to-
morrow. But let us learn to derive our hope only
from God.
" In the mean time, let us be kind to one another.
I have no friend now living but you*^ and Mr. Hector,
that was the friend of my youth. Do not neglect,
dear Sir,
" Yours affectionately,
" Sam. Johnson."
" London, Easier- Mo?idai/y April 12, 1784.
[to MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.
"my dear,
" I WRITE to you now, to tell you that I am so
far recovered that on the 21st 1 went to church, to
return thanks, after a confinement of more than four
long months.
" My recovery is such as neither myself nor the phy-
sicians at all expected, and it is such as that very few
examples have been known of the like. Join with me,
my dear love, in returning thanks to God.
" Dr. Vyse has been with [me] this evening : he
tells me that you likewise have been much disordered,
but that you are now better. I hope that we shall
sometime have a cheerful interview. In the mean
time let us pray for one another.
" 1 am, Madam,
" Your humble servant,
" London, April 26, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."]
What follows is a beautiful specimen of his gentle-
ness 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 print-
ed characters, that she might have the satisfaction of
' [This friend of Johnson's voiith survired him somewhat more than three years,
having died Feb. 19, 1788. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 367
reading it herself. The original hes before me, but 1784.
shall be faithfully restored to her ; and I dare say will J^
be preserved by her as a jewel, as long as she lives. 75.
" 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, 1 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 respect-
ed ; 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 arith-
metick; 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,
''May 10, 1784. "Sam. Johnson.'
w
On Wednesday, May 5, 1 arrived in London, and next
morning had the pleasure to find Dr. Johnson greatly
recovered. I but just saw him ; for a coach was \\2i\X-
ing 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, vi^hen 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, humili-
ation, and prayer. On a sudden he obtained extraor-
dinary rehef, for which he looked up to Heaven with
grateful devotion. He made no direct inference from
^6S THE LIFE OP
J784. this fact ; but from his manner of tellinj^ it, I could
2Etj^j perceive that it appeared to him as something more than
75. an incident in the common course of events. For my
own part, 1 have no difficulty to avow that cast of think-
ing, which, by many modern pretenders to wisdom, is
called superstitious. But here 1 think even men of dry
rationahty may beheve, that there was an intermediate
interposition of divine Providence, and that " the fer-
vent prayer of this righteous man" availed.^
On Sunday, May 9, I found Colonel V^allancy, the
celebrated Antiquary, and Engineer of Ireland, with
him. On Monday, the 10th, 1 dined with him at Mr.
Paradise's, where was a large company ; Mr. Bryant,
Mr. Joddrel, Mr. Hawkins Browne, &c. On Thurs-
day, the 13th, 1 dined with him at Mr. JoddreFs, with
another large company ; the Bishop of Exeter, Lord
Monboddo,^ Mr. Murphy, &c.
On Saturday, May lo, 1 dined with him at Dr.
Brocklesby's, where were Colonel Valiancy, Mr. Mur-
phy, and that ever-cheerful companion Mr. Uevaynes,
apothecary to his Majesty. Of these days, and others
on which 1 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
■ Upon this subject there is a very fair and judicious remark in the Life of Dr.
Abernethy, in the first edition of the B'wgraphla Britannka, which I should liave
been glad to see in his Life which has been written for the second edition of that
valuable work. " To deny the exercise of a particular providence in the Deity's
government of the world, is certainly impious, yet nothing serves the cause of the
scorner more than an incautious forward zeal in determining the particular in-
stances of it." .
In confirmation of my sentiments, I am also happy to quote that sensible and
elegant writer Mr. Melmoth, in Letter VIII. of his coUection, published under the
name of Fitzosbome. " We may safely assert, that the belief of a particular Provi-
dence is founded upon such probable reasons as may well justify our assent. It would
scarce, therefore, be wise to renounce an opinion which affords so firm a support
to the soul, in those seasons wherein she stands in most need of assistance, merely
because it is not possible, in questions of this kind, to solve every difficulty which
attends them."
' I was sorry to observe Lord Monboddo avoid any communication with Dr.
Johnson. I flattered myself that I had made them very good friends, (see " Jour-
nal of a Tour to the Hebrides," third edition, page 67,) but unhappily his Lord-
ship had resumed and cherished a violent prejudice against my illustrious friend,
to whom I must do the justice to say, there was on his part not the least anger,
but a good humoured sportiveness. Nay, though he knew of his Lordship's indis-
position towards him, he was even kindly ; as appeared from liis enquiring of
me after him, bv an abbreviation of his name, " Well, how does Monny ?"
DR. JOHNSON. 369
as the youngest man. I find only these three small >784.
particulars :— When a person was mentioned, vvho^^^^
said, " 1 have lived fifty-one years in this world, with- 75. *
out having had ten minutes of uneasiness ; he exclaim-
ed, " 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 1 learnt
afterwards, that Johnson did not find out that the per-
son 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,
whom he reverenced for his piety, he said, " 1 should
as soon think of contradicting a Bishop." One of the
company 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 ?"'
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 quota-
tion 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,'^ Here was exempli-
fied what Goldsmith said of him, with the aid of a very
witty image from one of Gibber's Comedies : " There
is no arguing with Johnson : for if his pistol misses
fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it."
Another was this : when a gentleman of eminence
in the literary world was violently censured for attack-
ing people by anonymous paragraphs in news-papers ;
he, from the spirit of contradiction as 1 thought, took
up his defence, and said, " Come, come, this is not so
terrible a crime ; he means only to vex them a little.
' [Dr. John Ross.j " Verses on the death of Mr. Levet.
VOL. III. 47
370 THE LIFE OF
1784. T do not say that I should do it ; but there is a great
^taT <^^'fference between him and me ; what is fit for He-
75. phiEstion is not fit for Alexander.'' — Another, when 1
told him that a young and handsome Countess had
said to me, " 1 should think that to be praised by Dr.
Johnson would make one a fool all one's life ;" and
that I answered, ' Madam, [ shall make him a fool to-
day, by repeatii^ this to him ;' he said, " 1 am too
old to be made a fool ; but if you say 1 am made a
fool, I shall not deny it. 1 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,
Miss Hannah More, and Miss Fanny Burney. Three
such women are not to be found : 1 know not where I
could find a fourth, except Mrs. Lenox, who is supe-
riour to them all." Boswell. " What ! had you
them all to yourself, Sir ?" Johnson. " 1 had them
all as much as they were had ; but it might have been
better had there been more company there." Bos-
well. " Might not Mrs. Montagu have been a
fourth I" 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 al-
ways meaning." Bosavell. " Mr. Burke has a con-
stant 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." Bos-
well. " Foote was a man who never failed in conver-
sation. If he had gone into a stable — " Johnson.
" Sir, if he had gone into the 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 say-
ing is." Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; and Foote would have
DR. JOHNSON. 371
answered the ostler. When Burke does not descend ^784.
to be merry, his conversation is very superiour indeed. ^"^
There is no proportion between the powers which he 75. '
shews in serious talk and in jocularity. When he lets
himself down to that, he is in the kennel." 1 have in
another place* opposed, and 1 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 ob-
servation ; 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 some-
thing more rough, and at any rate would probablv 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 Rus-
sia has ordered the ' Rambler' to be translated into the
Russian language :^ 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 ; now the Wolga is
farther from me than the Rhone was from Horace."
BoswELL. " You must certainly be pleased with this,
Sir." Johnson. " 1 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 exceed-
ingly well, notwithstanding his^4^at age. Johnson.
" Ah, Sir ; that is nothing. Bacon observes, that a
stout healthy old man is like a tower undermined."
On Sunday, May I6, 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
^ " Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," third edition, p. 20.
2 I have since heard that the report was not well founded ; hut the elation dis-
covered by Johnson in the belief that it was true, shewed a noble ardour for lit-
erary fame.
37'2 THE LIFE OF
1/84. circumstances which fiave since been the subject of
MtAt'. publick discussion, when he was interrupted by the
75. arrival of Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Sahsbury.
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 dis-
patch of business, the appeal never can be heard. Dr.
Douglas observed, that this was founded upon igno-
rance ; for that the Bishops have sufficient power to
maintain discipline, and that the sitting of the convo-
cation 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 etfect 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 salva-
tion as conditional ; and as they never can be sure that
they have complied with the conditions, they are afraid."
In one of his little manuscript diaries, about this
time, I find a short notice, which marks his amiable
dispositions more certainly than a thousand studied de-
clarations.— " Afternoon spent cheerfully and elegant-
ly, 1 hope without offence to GpD or man ; though in
no holy duty, yet in the general exercise and cultiva-
tion of benevolence."
On Monday, May 17, I dined with him at Mr. Dil-
ly's, where were Colonel A'allancy, the Reverend Dr.
Gibbons, and Mr. Capel Lofft, who, though a most
zealous Whig, has a mind so full of learning and knowl-
edge, 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. There was also Mr. Braithwaite
of the Post-office, that amiable and friendly man, who,
DR. JOHNSON. 373
with modest and unassuming manners, has associated ''784,
with many of the wits of the age. Johnson was very ^^taT
quiescent to-day. Perhaps too 1 was indolent. 1 find 75.
nothing more of him in my notes, but that when I men-
tioned that I had seen in the King's hbrary sixty-three
editions of my favourite Thomas a Kempis, — amono;st
which it was in eight languages, Latin, German, French,
Itahan, Spanish, Enghsh, 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 varia-
tions in the text. He approved of the famous collec-
tion of editions of Horace by Douglas, mentioned by
Pope, who is said to have had a closet filled w^th them ;
and he added, " every man should try to collect one
book in that manner, and present it to a publick
hbrary."
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, " No Fox — No Fox," which I did
not like. He said, " They were right, Sir." 1 said, I
thought not ; for it seemed to be making Mr. Fox the
King's competitor. There being no audience, so that
there could be no triumph in a victory, he fairly agreed
with me. 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 zv/iere his de-
parted friends are, or whether they will be his friends
in the other world. How many friendships have you
known formed upon principles of virtue? Most friend-
ships are formed by caprice or by chance, mere confed-
eracies in vice or leagues in folly."
^74 THE LIFE OF
1784, We talked of our worthy friend Mr. Langton. He
^^ said, " 1 know not who will go to Heaven if Langton
75. does not. Sir, I could almost say, Sif anima mea cum
LangtonoP 1 mentioned a very eminent friend as a
virtuous man. Johnson. " Yes, Sir ; but has
not the evangelical virtue of Langton. , 1 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 occa-
sion. " When 1 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 1 questioned him what
occasion 1 had given for such an animadversion, all that
he could say amounted to this, — that 1 sometimes con-
tradicted 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 weaker nerves,"
Johnson. " I know no such weak-nerved people." Mr.
Burke, to whom 1 related this conference, said, " It is
well, if when a man comes to die, he has nothing heav-
ier 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.*
* After all, I cannot but be of opinion, that as Mr. Langton was seriously
requested by Dr. Johnson to mention what appeared to him erroneous in the
character of his friend, he was bound as an honest man, to intimate what he
really thought, which he certainly did in the most delicate manner ; so that John-
son himself, when in a quiet frame of mind, was pleased with it. The texts sug-
gested arc now before me, and I shall quote a few of them. " Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth." Mat. v. 5. — ' I Therefore, the prisoner of the
Lord, beseech you, that ye walk, worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called,
with all lowliness and me^ness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in
love." Ephes. V. 1 , 2, — " And aljove all these things put on charity, which is the
DR. JOHNSON. 37o
1 have preserved no more of his conversation at the 1784.
times when 1 saw him during the rest of this month, ^J^
till Sunday, the 30th of May, when 1 met him in the 7S.
evening at Mr. IJoole's, where there was a large com-
pany both of ladies and gentlemen. Sir James John-
ston happened to sav, that he paid no regard to the
arguments of counsel at the bar of the House of Com-
mons, 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 5 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 :"^ Johnson read it over, and when this
elegant, and accomplished young lady^ was presented
to him, he took her by the hand in the most courteous
manner, and repeated the finest stanza of her poem ;
bond of perfectness." Col. iii. 14. — " Charity sufFereth long, and is kind : charity,
envieth not, charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up : doth not behave itself un-
seemly, is not easily provoked." 1 Cor. xiii. 4, 5.
' [Dr. Johnson's memory deceived him. The passage referred to is not Bacon's,
but Boyle's : and may be found, with a slight variation, in Johnson's Dictionary,
under the word — Crossbow. — So happily selected are the greater part of the
examples in that incomparable work, that i. the most striking passages found in it
were collected by one of our modern book-makers, under the title of The Beau-
ties of Johnson's Dictionary, they would form a very pleasing and popular
volume. M.]
* The Peace made by that very able statesman, the Earl of Shelburne, now Mar-
quis of Lansdown, which niav fairly be considered as the foundation of all the pros-
perity of Great Britain since that time.
In the first edition of my Work, the epithet amiable was given. I was sotry
to be obliged to strike it out ; but I could not in justice suffer it to remain, after
this young lady had not only written in favour of the savage Anarchy with
which France has been visited, but had (as I have been informed by good au-
thority,) walked, without horrour, over the ground at the Thuilleries when it was
strewed with the naked bodies of the faithful Swiss Guards, who were barbarously
massacred for having bravely defended, against a crew of rufBans, the Monarch
whom they had taken an oath to defend. From Dr. Johnson she could now ex-
pect not endearment but repuliion.
376 THE LIFE OF
1784. this was the most delicate and pleasing compliment he
^^^ could pay. Her respectable friend, Dr. Kippis, from
75. whom 1 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 " 1 am
very ill indeed. Madam. 1 am very ill even when you
are near me ; what should 1 be were you at a distance."
He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his
iirst jaunt after his illness; we talked of it for some
days, and 1 had promised to accompany him. He was
impatient and fretful to-night, because 1 did not at
once agree to go with him on Thursday. When 1
considered how ill he had been, and what allowance
should be made for the influence of sickness upon his
temper, 1 resolved to indulge him, though with some
inconvenience to myself, as 1 wished to attend the
musical meeting in honour of Handel, 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, 1 hope, I have given what 1 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 1 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 !" 1 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.
DR. JOHNSON. 377
that her husband had been a member of the American '784.
Congress, I cautioned her to beware of introducing^^
that subject, as she must know how very violent John* 75.*
son was against the people of that country. He talked
a great deal. But 1 am sorry 1 have preserved little of
the conversation. Miss Beresford was so much charm-
ed, 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."
I was surprized 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 Rich-
ard in ' The Journey to London,' " Vm never strange
in a strange placed He was truly social. He strong-
ly 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 uncivilized as not to understand
the common rights of humanity."
At the inn where we stopped he was exceedingly
dissatisfied with some roast mutton which he 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."
He bore the journey very well, and seemed to feel
himself elevated as he approached Oxford, that mag-
nificent and venerable seat of Learning, Orthodoxy,
VOJ,. ITT. 1'8
37f> THE LIFE OF
'784. and Toryism. Frank came in the heavy coach, in
iEtaT J'^'^diness to attend him ; and we were received with
75. the most pohte hospitahty 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 engag-
ed to return to London directly, for the reason 1 have
mentioned, but that! would hasten back to him again.
He was pleased that 1 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, who was here on a
visit. He soon dispatched the enquiries which were
made about his illness and recovery, by a short and
distinct narrative ; and then assuming a gay air, repeat-
ed from Swift,
" Nor think on our approaching ills,
" And talked of spectacles and pills."
Dr. Newton, the Bishop of Bristol, having been men-
tioned, Johnson, recollecting the manner in which he
had been censured by that Prelate,* thus retaliated: —
" Tom knew he should be dead before what he has
said of me would appear. He durst not have primed
it while he was alive." Dr. Adams. " 1 believe his
^ Dr. Newton In his account of his own Life, after animadverting upoa, Mr.
Gibbon's History, says, " Dr. Johnson's ' Lives of the Poets' afforded more amuse-
ment ; but candour was much hurt and offended at the malevolence that predom-
inates in every part. Some passages, it must be allowed, are judicious and well
written, but make not sufficient compensation for so much spleen and ill-humour.
Never was any biographer more sparing of his praise, or more abundant in his
censures. He seemingly delights more in exposing blemishes, than in recommend-
ing beauties ; slightly passes over excellencies, enlarges upon imperfections, and
not content writh his own severe reflections, revives old scandal, and produces
large quotations from the forgotten works of former criticks. His reputation was
so high in the republick of letters, that it wanted not to be raised upon the ruins
of otliers. But these Essays, instead of raising a higher idea than was before en-
tertained of his understanding, have certainly given the world a worse opinion of
his temper. — The Bishop was therefore the more surprized and concerned for his
townsman, for he respected him not only for his genius and learning, but -valued him much
for the more amiable part of his character, his humanity and charity, his morality and relig-
ion." The last sentence we may consider as the general and permanent opinion
of Bishop Newton ; the remarks which precede it must, by all who have read
Johnson's admirable work, be imputed to the disgust and peevishness of old age.
I wish they had not appeared, and that Dr. Johnson had not been provoked by
them to express himself not in respectful terms, of a Prelate, whose labours were
certainly of considerable advantage both to literature and religion.
DR. JOHNSON. 379
' Dissertations on the Prophecies' is his great work." '784.
Johnson. " Why, Sir, it is Tom's great work ; but how 2t^^
far it is great, or how much of it is Tom's, are other 7.5.'
questions. 1 fancy a considerable part of it was bor-
rowed." Dr. Adams. " He was a very successful
man." Johnson. " 1 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. 1 be-
Jieve he was a gross flatterer."
I fulfilled my intention by going to London, and re-
turned 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 com-
fortable prospect of making some stay. Johnson wel-
comed 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 Inve-
rary ;^ 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. " 1 never (said he) knew a nonjuror who
could reason."' Surely he did not mean to deny that
faculty to many of their writers ; to Hickes, Brett, 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. The
nonjuring clergy of Scotland, indeed, who, ex«'epting a
few, have lately, by a sudden stroke, cut off all ties of
allegiance to the house of Stuart, and resolved to pray
•* " Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," third edit. p. 371.
' The Rev. Mr. Agutter has favoured me with a note of a dialogue between Mr.
John Henderson and Dr. Johnson on this topick, as related by Mr. Henderson,
and it is evidently so authentick that I shall here insert it : — Henderson. " What do
you think, Sir, of William Law ?" Johnson. " William Law, Sir, wrote the best
piece of Parenetick Divinity ; but William Law was no reasoner." Henderson.
" Jeremy Collier, Sir ?" Johnson. " Jeremy Collier fought without a rival, and
therefore could not claim the victory." Mr. Henderson mentioned Kenn and
Kettlewell ; but some objections were made ; at last he said, but. Sir, " What do
you think of Lesley .<"' Johnson. « Charles Lesley I had forgotten. Lesley -was a
reasoner, and a reasoner luho zvas not it he reasoned against."
380 THE LIFE OF
1784. for our present lawful Sovereign by name, may be
Mr^ thought to have confirmed this remark ; as it may be
75. 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
1 mention, that Johnson assured me he bad never in
his life been in a nonjuring meeting-house.
Next morning at breakfast, he pointed out a passage
in Savage's " Wanderer," saying " These are fine
verses." — " If (said he) 1 had written with hostility of
Warburton in my Shakspeare, 1 should have quoted
this couplet :
* Here Learning, blinded first, and then beguiPd,
' Looks dark as Ignorance, as Frenzy wild/
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."
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 Ro-
man 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, 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. " iVll 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 some-
times 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 1 would apply
DR. JOHNSON. 381
a stanza of a poem which 1 remember to have seen in i784.
some old collection : SaT.
75.
* Henceforth be quiet and agree,
* Each kiss his empty brother;
* Religion scorns a foe like thee,
' But dreads a friend like t'other/
Tlie point is well, though the expression is not correct;
one, and not thee^ should be opposed to i* other P^
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 reas-
oning Papist believes every article of their faith.
There is one side on which a good man might be per-
suaded to embrace it. A good man of a timorous dis-
position, in great doubt of his acceptance with God,
and pretty credulous, may be glad to be of a church
where there are so many helps to get to Heaven. I
would be a Papist if 1 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. " Be-
cause they are less wicked." Dr. Adams. " They
are more pious." Johnson. " No, hang e'm, 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
^ I have inserted the stanza as Johnson repeated it from memory ; but I hare
since found the poem itself, in " The Foundling Hospital for Wit," printed at Lon-
don, 1749. It is as follows :
" Epigram, occasioned by a religious dispute at Bath.
" On Reason, Faith, and Mystery high,
" Two \vits harangue the table ;
'* B ^y believes he knows not why,
" N— — — swears 'tis all a fable.
" Peace, coxcombs, peace, and both agre^,
" N , kiss thy empty brother ;
•• Religion laughs at foes like thee,
" And dreads a friend Uke t'*ther."
382 THE LIFE OP
1784. only to the laity, he said, " They may think, that in
^j^j. what is merely ritual, deviations from the primitive
75. mode may be admitted on the ground of convenience ;
and I think they are as well v^■arranted to make this al-
teration, as we are to substitute sprinkling m the room
of the ancient baptism." As to the invocation of saints,
he said, " Though 1 do not think it authorised, it ap-
pears 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."'
He admitted the influence of evil spirits 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
Devi/, and he imll flij from you." James iv. 7. 1 was
happy to produce so judicious and elegant a supporter*
^ Waller, in his " Divine Poesie," Canto first, has the same thought finely ex-
pressed :
" The Church triumphant, and the Church below,
" In songs of praise their present union show ;
" Their joys are fuU ; our expectation long,
" In life we differ, but we join in song ;
" Angels and we assisted by this art,
" May sing together, though we dwell apart."
" The Sermon thus opens : — ^" That there are angels and spirits good and bad ;
that at the head of these last there is one more considerable and malignant than
the rest, who, in the form, or under the name of a serpent, was deeply concerned
in the fall of man, and whose head, as the prophetick language is, the son of man
was one day to bruise ; that this evil spirit, though that prophecy be in part com-
pleted, has not yet received his death's wound, but is still permitted, for ends un-
searchable to us, and in ways which we cannot particularly explain, to have a
certain degree of power in this world hostile to its virtue and happiness, and
sometimes exerted with too much success ; all this is so clear from Scripture, that
no believer, unless he be first of all spoiled by philosophy and -vain deceit, can possibly
entertain a doubt of it."
Having treated oi possessions, his Lordship says, " As I have no authority to affirm
that there are now any such, so neither may I presume to say with confidence,
that there are not any."
" But then with regard to the influence of evil spirits at this day upon the
30ULS of men, I shall take leave to be a great deal more peremptory. — [Then, hav-
ing stated the various proofs, he adds,] All this, I say, is so manifest to every one
who reads the Scriptures, that, if we respect their authority, the question concern-
ing the reality of the demoniack influence upon the minds of men is clearly de-
termined."
Let it be remembered, that these are not the words of an antiquated or obscure
enthusiast, but of a learned and polite Prelate now alive ; and were spoken, not
to a vulgar congregation, but to the Honourable Society of Lincoln 's-Inn. His
DR. JOHNSON. 388
of a doctrine, which, I know not why, should, in this i784.
world of imperfect knowledge, and, therefore, of won- ^^
der and mystery in a thousand instances, be contested 75, *
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 re-
luctance. But indeed, in a matter of much more con-
cern than political tenets, and that is religion, men and
women do not concern themselves much about ditfer-
ence 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 threepence 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 con-
sequence to us than our own, so far as concerns this
world."
Miss Adams mentioned a gentleman of licentious
character, and said, " Suppose 1 had a mind to marry
that gentleman, would my parents consent !" Johnson.
" Yes. theyM 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
Lordsliip in this Sermon explains the words, " deliver us from evil," in the Lord's
Prayer, as signifying a request to be protected from " the evil one," that is, the
Devil. This is well illustrated in a short but excellent Commentary by my late
worthy friend, the Reverend Dr. Lort, of whom it may truly be said, Multu ille
bonis Jlebilis occidit. It is remarkable that Waller in his " Reflections on the several
Petitions, in that sacred form of devotion," has understood this in the same sense:
" Guard us from all temptations of the Foe."
JS* THE LIFE OF
i784. well ; you'd take one whom you think a bad man, to
2J^ have the pleasure of vexing your parents. You put
75. me in mind of Dr. Barrowby, the physician, who was
very fond of swine's flesh. One day, when he was eat-
ing it, he said, ' I wish 1 was a Jew.' — ' Why so ? (said
somebody,) the Jews are not allowed to eat your fa-
vourite 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 1 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 depruv'itij^
is strange."
Indeed, this lady's good qualities, merit, and accom-
plishments, 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 him
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."
" Fox, (added he,) is a most extraordinary man ♦,
here is a man (describing him in strong terms of ob-
jection in some respects according as he apprehended,
but which exalted his abilities the more,) who has
divided the Kingdom with Caesar ; so that it was a
doubt whether the nation should be ruled by thr
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 com-
pany 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 have done. 1
know nothing that has been imported by them ; yet
DR. JOHNSON. 385
many additions to our medical knowledge might be ^784.
got in foreign countries. Inoculation, for instance, ^i."^^
has saved more lives than war destroys : and the cures 75. *
performed by the Feruvian-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 : Pd send them out of Christen-
dom ; 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. Ad-
ams, (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 1 have thought of getting to-
gether 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 seem-
ed to be a little displeased at the manner of our im-
portunity, 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 upoa
the table.
I mentioned Jeremy Taylor's using, in his forms of
prayer, " I am the chief of sinners," and other such
self-condemning expressions. " Now, (said 1) this can-
not 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 ivill not say so.
Johnson. " A man may know, that physically, that iSj
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
VOL. III. 49
660 THE LIFE OF
1784. of in others/ 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 Sa-
viour's having died to save sinners, says, ' of whom I
am the chief :' yet he certainly did not think himself
so bad as Judas Iscariot." Boswell. " But, Sir, Tay-
lor means it literally, for he founds a conceit upon it.
When praying for the conversion of sinners, and of him-
self in particular, he says, 'Lord, thou wilt not leave
thy c/iief work undone." Johnson. " 1 do not approve
of figurative expressions in addressing the Supreme Be-
ing ; and I never use them. 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." I recollected this precept in his ' Gol-
den Grove ;' but his example for prayer contradicts his
precept.
Dr. Johnson and I went in Dr. Adams's coach to
dine with Mr. Nowell, Principal of St. Mary Hall, at
his beautiful villa at Iffley, on the banks of the Isi^,
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. 1 proceeded to
answer myself thus : " Perhaps it has been of advan-
tage, as it has given w^eight 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 repress-
ed in my company." Boswell. "True, Sir; and that
is more than can be said of every Bishop. Greater lib-
erties 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 conver-
sation, have been frightened away. A worthy friend of
ours has told me, that he has often been afraid to talk
10 you." Johnson. " Sir, he need not have been
DR. JOHNSON. 387
afraid, if he had any thing rational to say.' If he had '"84.
not, it was better he did not talk." Sat!
Dr. Nowell is celebrated for having preached a ser- 75.
nion before the House of Conamons, on the 30th of
January, 1772, 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. This strange con-
duct 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
ray 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 beine
like Butler's steady and generous Royalist,
" True as the dial to the sun,
" Although it be not shone upon."
We were well entertained and very happy at Dr.
NowelPs, where was a very agreeable company ; and vve
drank " Church and King" after dinner, with true
Tory cordiality.
We talked of a certain clergyman of extraordinary
character, who by exerting his talents in writing on
temporary topicks, and displaying uncommon intrepid-
ity, 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
■ [The words of Erasmus (as my learned friend Dr. Kearney observes to me,)
may be applied to Johnson : " Qui Lngenium, sensum dictionem hominis noverant,
multis non oSenduntur, quibus graviter erant ofFendendi, qui hxc ignorarunt."
388 THE LIFE OF
1784. a quality so necessary for maintaining virtue, that it is
JEtat. ^Ivv'ays respected, even when it is associated with vice."
75. 1 censured the coarse invectives which were become
fashionable in the House of Commons, and said that if
members of parliament must attack each other person-
ally in the heat of debate, it should be done more gen-
teelly, 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 ditFerence
between being bruised by a club, and wounded by a
poisoned arr'»w.'^ — 1 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."
On Saturday, June 12, there drank tea with us at
Dr. Adams's, Mr, John Henderson, student of Pem-
broke-College, celebrated for his wonderful acquire-
ments in Alchymy, Judicial Astrology, and other
abstruse and curious learning ;^ and the Reverend
Herbert Croft, who, I am afraid, was somewhat morti-
fied by Dr. Johnson's nut being highly pleased with
some " I'amily Discourses," which he had printed ;
they were in too fan)iliar 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 1 men-
tioned Thomas Lord Lyttelion's vision, 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. 1 heard it with my own ears,
from his uncle, Lord Westcote,^ I am so glad to have
every evidence of the spiritual world, that 1 am willing
to believe it." Dr. Adams. " You have evidence
enough ; good evidence, which needs not such sup-
port." Johnson. " 1 like to have more."
Mr. Henders(.)n, with whom 1 had sauntered in the
venerable walks of Merton-College, and found him a
* See an account of him, in a sermon by the Reverend Mr. Agutter.
' [A correct account of Lord Lyttelton's supposed Vision may be found in
Nash's " History of Worcestersliire ;" — Additions and Corrections, p. 36. M.]
DR. JOHNSON.
very learned and pious man, supped with us. Dr. i7B4.
Johnson surprised him not a little, by acknowledging ^tTt!
with a look of horrour, that he was much oppressed by 7ji.
the fear of death. 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 pun-
ished. As to an individual^ therefore, he is not infi-
nitely 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 everlasting-
ly." Dr. Adams. " 1 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 ?" John-
son. " 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,
" V\\ have no more on't." — 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 melan-
choly, of which such direful apprehensions of futurity
«re often a common effect. We shall presently see,
390 THE LIFE OF
^784. that when he approached nearer to his aweful change,
Sat^ his mind became tranquil, and he exhibited as much
75. 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 mis-
erable. Johnson was decidedly for the balance of
misery:'' in confirmation of which I maintained, that
^ The Reverend Mr. Ralph Churton, Fellow of Brazen-Nose College, Oxford,
has favoured me writh the foUowring remarks on my Work, which he is pleased
to say, " I have hitherto extolled, and cordially approve."
" The chief part of what I have to observe is contained in the following trans-
cript from a letter to a friend, which, with his concurrence, I copied for this
purpose ; and, whatever may be the merit or justness of the remarks, you may
be sure that being written to a most intimate friend, without any intention that
tliey ever should go further, they are the genuine and undisguised sentiments of
the writer :
' Jan. 6, 1792.
* Last week, I was reading the second volume of Boswell's Johnson, with
increasing esteem for the worthy authour, and increasing veneration of the won-
derful and excellent man who is the subject of it. The writer throws in, now and
then, very properly some serious religious reflections ; but there is one remark, in my
mind an obvious and just one, which I think he has not made, that Johnson's
" morbid melancholy," and constitutional infirmities, were intended by Provi-
dence, like St. Paul's thorn in the flesh, to check intellectual conceit and arro-
gance ; which the consciousness of his extraordinary talents, awake as he was to
the voice of praise, might otherwise have generated in a very culpable degree.
Another observation strikes me, that in consequence of the same natural indispo-
sition, and habitual sickliness, (for he says he scarcely passed one day without
pain after his twentieth year,) he considered and represented human life, as a
scene of much greater misery than is generally experienced. There may be per-
sons bowed down with affliction all their days ; and there are those, no doubt,
whose iniquities rob them of rest ; but neither calamities nor crimes, I hope and
believe, do so much and so generally abound, as to justify the dark picture of life
which Johnson's imagination designed, and his strong pencil delineated. This I
am sure, the colouring is far too gloomy for what I have experienced, though as
far as I can remember, I have had more sickness, (I do not say more severe, but
only more in quantity,) than falls to the lot of most people. But then daily de-
bility and occasional sickness were far overbalanced by intervenient days, and,
perhaps, weeks void of pain, and overflowing with comfort. So that in short,
to return to the subject, human life, as far as I can perceive from experience or
observation, is not that state of constant wretchedness which Johnson always in-
sisted it was : which misrepresentation, (for such it surely is,) his Biographer has
not corrected, I suppose, because, unhappily, he has himselfa large portion of mel-
ancholy in his constitution, and fancied the portrait a faithful copy of life.'
The learned writer then proceeds thus in his letter to me :
" I have conversed with some sensible men on this subject, who all seem to en-
tertain the same sentiments respecting life with those which are expressed or im-
plied in the foregoing paragraph. It might be added that as the representation
here spoken of, appears not consistent with fact and experience, so neither does
it seem to be countenanced by Scripture. There is, perhaps, no part of the sacred
\^olume which at first sight promises so much to lend its sanction to these dark
and desponding notions as the book of Ecclesiastes, which so often, and so em-
phatically, proclaims the vanity of things sublunary. But ' the de^'gn of this
whole book, (as it has been justly observed,) is not to put us out of conceit with
life, but to cure our vain expectations of a complete and perfect happiness in this
DR. JOHNSON. 391
no man would choose to lead over again the life which 1784.
he had experienced. Johnson acceded to that opinion ^J^
in the strongest terms. This is an enquiry often made; 75.
world ; to convince us, that there is no such thing to be found in mere external
enjoyments ; — and to teach us — to seek for happiness in the practice of virtue, in
the knowledge and love of God, and in the hopes of a better life. For this is the
application of all : Let us hear, &c. xii. 13. Not only his duty, but his happiness
too : For God, &c. ver. 14. — See' Sherlock on Providence,' p. 299.
" The New Testament tells us, indeed, and most truly, that ' sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof ;' and, therefore, wisely forbids us to increase our burdens
by forebodings of sorrows ; but I think it now here says that even our ordinary
afflictions are not consistent with a very considerable degree of positive comfort
and satisfaction. And, accordingly, one whose sufferings as well as merits were
conspicuous, assures us, that in proportion ' as the sufferings of Christ abounded
in them, so their consolation also abounded by Christ.' 2 Cor. i. 5. It is needless to
cite, as indeed it would be endless even to refer to, the multitude of passages in
both Testaments holding out, in the strongest language, promises of blessings,
even in this world, to the faithful servants of God. I will only refer to St. Luke
xviii. 29, 30. and 1 Tim. iv. 8.
" Upon the whole, setting aside instances of great and lasting bodily pain, of
minds peculiarly oppressed by melancholy, and of severe temporal calamities,
from which extraordinary cases we surely should not form our estimate of the
general tenour and complexion of life ; excluding these from the account, 1 am
convinced that as well the gracious constitution of things which Providence has
ordained, as the declarations of Scripture and the actual experience of individuals,
authorize the sincere Christian to hope that his humble and constant endeavours to
perform his duty, checquered as the best life is with many failings, will be crowned
with a greater degree of present peace, serenity and comfort, than he could rea-
sonably permit himself to expect, if he measured his views and judged of life from
the opinion of Dr. Johnson, often and energetically expressed in the Memoirs of
him, without any animadversion or censure by his ingenious Biographer. If He
himself, upon reviewing the subject, shall see the matter in this light, he will, in
an octavo edition, which is eagerly expected, make such additional remarks or
corrections as he shall judge fit ; lest the impressions which these discouraging
passages may leave on the reader's mind, should in any degree hinder what oth-
erwise the whole spirit and energj- of the work tends, and, I hope, successfully, to
promote, — pure morality and true religion."
Though I have, in some degree, obviated any reflections against my illustrious
friend's dark views of life, when considering, in the course of this Work, his
" Rambler" and his " Rasselas," I am obliged to Mr. Churton for complying with
my request of his permission to insert his Remarks, being conscious of the weight
of what he judiciously suggests as to the melancholy in my own constitution.
His more pleasing views of life, I hope, are just. Valeant, quantum valere fossunt.
Mr. Churton^concludes his letter to me in these words : " Once, and only once,
I had the satisfaction of seeing your illustrious friend ; and as I feel a particular
regard for all whom he distinguished with his esteem and friendship, so I derive
much pleasure from reflecting that I once beheld, though but transiently near our
College-gate, one whose works will for ever delight and improve the world, who
was a sincere and zealous son of the Church of England, an honour to his coimtry, >
and an ornament to human nature."
His letter was accompanied with a present from himself of his " Sermons at the
Bampton Lecture," and from his friend. Dr. Townson, the venerable Rector of
Malpas in Cheshire, of his " Discourse* on the Gospels," together with the follow-
ing extract of a letter from that excellent person, who is now gone to receive
the reward of his labours ; " Mr. Boswell is not only very entertaining in his
works, but they are so replete with moral and religious sentiments, without an in-
stance, as far as I know, of a contrary tendency, that I carmot help having a great
39!^ THE LIFE OF
1784. and its being a subject of disquisition is a proof that
^^ much misery presses upon human feelings ; for those
76. who are conscious of a felicity of existence, would
never hesitate to accept of a repetition of it. 1 have met
with very few who would. 1 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. We are for wise
purposes " Condemned to Hope's delusive mine," as
Johnson finely says ; and I may also quote the cele-
brated .lines of Dryden, equally philosophical and
poetical :
" When T 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."'
It was observed to Dr. Johnson, that it seemed
strange that he, who has so often delighte'd his com-
pany by his lively and brilliant conversation, should
say he was miserable. Johnson. " Alas ! it is all
outside ; 1 may be cracking my joke, and cursing the
esteem for him ; and if you think such a trifle as a copy of the Discourses, ex don*
ituthoris, would he acceptable to him, I should be happy to give him this small
testimony of my regard."
Such spontaneous testimonies of approbation from such men, without any per-
^nal acquaintance with me, are truly valuable and encouraging.
" AURENGZEBE, Act. iv. Sc. 1.
DR. JOHNSON. 393
sun. Sun, how I hate thij beams /" I knew not well 1784.
what to think of this declaration ; whether to hold it aa ^J^
a genuine picture of his mind.' or as the effect of his 75. *
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. Grev-
ille's " Maxin^s, Characters, and Reflections ;"^ a book
which is entitled to much more praise than it has re-
ceived : " Akistarchus 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.''
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 vt'onder that the poet who had written
" Paradise Lost," should write such poor Sonnets : —
" Milton, Madam, was a genius that could cut a Colos-
-sus from a rock, but could not carve heads upon cher-
ry-stones."
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 import-
ance to the comfort of life, that we should have a full
security by mutual faith ; and occasional inconveni-
ences should be willingly suffered, that we may pre-
serve 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
' Yet there is no doubt that a man may appear very gay in company, who is
sad at heart. His merriment is hke the sound of drums and trumpets in a battle,
to drown the groans of the wounded and dying.
' Page 139.
VOL. III. 50
.'^94' THE LIFE OF
1784. betray a man to a murderer." Boswell. "Supposing
Sat^ the person who wrote Junius were asked whether he
75. 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 ; and there is no other effectual mode of
preserving a secret and an important secret, the dis-
covery 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 1 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 conse-
quences ; 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, 1 have the greatest
abhorrence of this, because 1 believe it has been fre-
quently practised on myself."
1 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 ac-
count 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 in-
stances 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," we find the follow-
ing verses, addressed to Pope :^
3 The annotator calls tham " amiable versos."
DR. JOHNSON. 395
" While malice, Pope, denies thy page •784.
" Its own celestial fire ; ^Sat!
" While criticks, and while bards in rage, 75.*
" 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 established 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, knowing Dr.
Johnson's almost universal and minute literary informa-
tion, 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-shcool,
and published a Miscellany, in which " Grongar Hill"
first came out."* Johnson praised them highly, and
" [Lewis's Verses addressed to Pope, (as Mr. Bindley suggests to me,) were first
published in a collection of Pieces in verse and prose on occasion of " the Dunciad,"
8vo. 1732. They are there called an Epigram. — " Grongar Hill," the same gen-
tleman observes, was first printed in Savage's Miscellanies, as an Ode, (it is singular,
that Johnson should not have recollected this,) and was reprinted in the same year,
(1726,) in Lewis's Miscellany, in the form it now bears.
In that Mi»cellany, (as the Reverend Mr. Blakeway observes to me,) " the beau-
tiful poem, • Away, let nought to love displeasing,' &c. (reprinted in Percy's
Reliques, vol. i. b. iii. No. 14,) first appeared."
Lewis was authour of " Philip of Macedon," a tragedy, published in 1 727, and
dedicated to Pope ; and in 1730, he pubhshed a second volume of miscellaneous
poems.
Ai Dr. Johnson settled in London not long after the Verses addressed to Pope
first appeared, he probably then obtained some information concerning their au-
thour, David Lewis, whom he has described as an Usher of Westminster-school :
yet the Dean of Westminster, who has been pleased at my request to make some
enquiry on this subject, has not found any vestige of his having ever been em-
ployed in this situation. — A late writer (" Environs of London," iv. 171,) supposed
that the following inscription in the church-yard of the church of Low Leyton iu
Essex, was intended to commemorate this poet :
396 THE LIFE OF
1784. repeated them with a noble animation. In the twelfth
^^ line, instead of " one establish'd fame," he repeated
75. "one unclouded flame," which he thought was the
reading in former editions ; but 1 believe was a flash
of his own genius. It is much more poetical than the
other.
On Monday, June 14, and Tuesday, 15, Dr. John-
son and I dined, on one of them, 1 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. W'etherell, Master of Uni-
versity-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 ; 1 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 pathetick narrative was
strangely diversified with the grave and earnest defence
of a man's having married his maid. 1 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
" Sacred to the memory of David Lewis, Esq. who died the 8th Day of April,
1760, aged 77 years ; a great favourite of the Muses, as his many excellent pieces
in poetry sufficiently testify.
" Inspired verse may on this marble live, •
" But can no honour to thy ashes give."
Also Mary, the wife of the above-named David Lewis, fourth daughter
of Newdigate Owsley, Esq. who departed this life the 10th of October, 1774, aged
90 years.
But it appears to me improbable that this monument was erected for the authour
of the Verses to Pope, and of the Tragedy already mentioned ; the language both
of the dedication prefixed to that piece, and of the dedication addressed to the
Earl of Shaftesbury, and prefixed to the Aliscellanies, 1 730, denoting a person who
moved in a lower sphere than this Essex 'Squire seems to have done. M.]
i [He died at Oxford in his 89th year, Dec. 10, 1796. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 397
Reverend Herbert Croft, to a young gentleman who '784.
had been his pupil, in which he advised him to read to ^^^
the end of whatever books he should begin to read. 75. *
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 ! These Voyages, (pointing to the three large
volumes of ' Voyages to the South Sea,' which were
just come out) w/io will read them through I 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. " 1 do not think the people of
Otaheite can be reckoned Savages." Johnson. " Don't
cant in defence of Savages." 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." 1 perceived this was none of the mollia
tempora fundi ; so desisted.
Upon his mentioning that when he came to College
he wrote his first exercise twice over, but never did so
afterwards ; 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 1 could." Boswell. " I'll lay a bet. Sir,
you cannot." Johnson. " But I will. Sir, if 1 choose.
1 shall make the best of them you shall pick out, bet-
ter."— 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, — ad-
ding,— or correcting."
During our visit at Oxford, the following conversa-
tion passed between him and me on the subject of my
trying my fortune at the English bar. Having asked,
whether a very extensive acquaintance in London,
598 THE LIFE OF
1784. which was very valuable, and of great advantage to a
^^^ man at large, might not be prejudicial to a lawyer, by
75. preventing him from giving sufficient attention to his
business? — Johnson. "Sir, vou will attend to business,
as business lays hold of you. When not actually em-
ployed, 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.
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 represent-
ation of what is required in a Barrister who would hope
for success, to be much too indulgent ; but certain it is,
that as
" The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame,"
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, 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 him-
self to his grave, though he were of a very strong con-
stitution, and after reduced himself to eight hours ; but
that he would not advise any body to so much ; that he
DR. JOHNSON. 399
thought six hours a day, with attention and constancy, 1784.
was sufficient ; that a man must use his body as he S^
would his horse, and his stomach ; not tire him at once, 75, *
but rise with an appetite/'
On Wednesday, June 19, Dr. Johnson and I return-
ed 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 observ-
ing sufficiently the various objects upon the road. " If
1 had your eyes, Sir, (said he) 1 should count the pas-
sengers." It was wonderful how accurate his observa-
tions of visual objects was, notwithstanding his imper-
fect eyesight, owing to a habit of attention. — 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."«
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 Derby-
shire, brother to the learned and ingenious Thomas
Astle, Esq. was from his early years known to Dr. John-
son, 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.) — RolUji's Ancient History — Puffen"
dorf^s Introduction to History. — Vertot^s History of
Knights of Malta. — Vertofs Revolution of Portugal. —
Vertot^s Revolution of Sweden. — Cartels History of
England. — Present State of England. — Geographical
Gramma? . — Prideaux\ Connection. — Nelson's Feasts
and Fas s. — Duty of Man. — Gentleman's Religion. —
Clarendj7i\s History. — Watts' Improvement of the
" Letters to Mrs. Thrale," Vol. II, p. S72.
400 THE LIFE OF
1784. Mind. — Watts^ Logick. — Nature Displatjed. — Loivth^s
^^^j English Grammar. — Blackivell on the Classicks. —
75, S her lock's Sermons. — Burnetts Life of Hale. — Dupin's
Historu of the Church. — Skuckford's Connections. —
Law's Serious Call. — Walton's Complete Angler. —
Sandifs's Travels. — Sprat's Historij of the Roiful Soci-
etij. — Ru;j;land's Gazetteer. — Goldsmith's Roman His-
toru.— Some Commentaries on the Bible.
It having been mentioned to Dr. Johnson that a gen-
tleman 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."
Speaking of a gentleman whose house was much
frequented by low compvmy ; " Rags, Sir, (said he,)
will aKvays 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 doina^ 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."
A dull country magistrate gave Johnson a long
tedious account of his exercising his criminal jurisdic-
tion, 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."
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
DR. JOHNSON. 401
trust, and thus describes him :^ "There is much '784.
good in his character, and much usefuhiess in his '^[^
knowledge." He found a cordial solace at that gentle- 75.
man's seat at Beckenham, in Kent, which is indeed
one of the finest places at which I ever was a guest ;
and where 1 find more and more a hosjDitable welcome.
Johnson seldom encouraged general censure of any
profession ; but he was willing to allow a due share
of merit to the various departments necessary in civil-
ized life. In a splenetick, sarcastical, or jocular frame
of mind, however, he would sometimes utter a pointed
saying of that nature. One instance has been men-
tioned,^ where he gave a sudden satirical stroke to the
character of an attonieij. The too indiscriminate ad-
mission to that employment, which requires both
abilities and integrity, has given rise to injurious re-
flections, which are totally inapplicable to many very
respectable men who exercise it with reputation and
honour.
Johnson having argued for some time with a perti-
nacious gentleman ; his opponent, who had talked in
a very puzzling manner, happened to say, " 1 don't
understand you, Sir ;" upon which Johnson observed,
" Sir, I have found you an argument ; but 1 am not
obliged to find you an understanding."
Talking to me of Horry Walpole, (as Horace late
Earl of Orford was often called,) Johnson allowed that
he got together a great many curious little things,
and told them in an elegant manner. Mr. Walpole
thought Johnson a more amiable character after read-
ing his Letters to Mrs. Thrale : but never was one of
the true admirers of that great man.^ W^e may sup-
pose a prejudice conceived, if he ever heard Johnson's
account to Sir George Staunton, that when he made
the speeches in parliament for the Gentleman's Maga-
zine, " he always took care to put Sir Robert Walpole
in the wrong, and to say every thing he could against
» " Letters to Mrs. Thrale," Vol. II. p. 284.
^ See Vol. 1. p. 486.
' [In his Posthumous Works, he has spoken of Johnson in the most contempt-
uous manner ! M.]
VOL. III. 51
402 THE LIFE OF
1784. the electorate of Hanover." The celebrated Heroick
^J^ Epistle, in which Johnson is satyrically introduced, has
75. ' been ascribed both to Mr. Walpole and Mr. Mason.
One day at Mr. Courtenay's, when a gentleman ex-
pressed 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 buckrantCd by Mason."'
He disapproved of Lord Hailes, for having modern-
ised the language of the ever-memorable John Hales
of Eton, 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 :
1 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 Fal-
stafF^s " 1 deny your Major."
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 pleas-
ures."
1 have mentioned Johnson's general aversion to pun.
He once, however, endured one of mine. When we
were talking of a numerous company in which he had
rit is now ri804) inttvn, that the " Heroick Epistle" was written by Mason.
M.}
DR. JOHNSON. 403
distinguished himself highly, I said, " Sir, you were a i7i^4.
Cod surrounded by smelts. Is not this enough for Jj^
you ? at a time too when you were not fishing for a 75.
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^
he might have given us an admirable work. When
the Duke of Bedford attacked the ministry as vehe-
mently as he could, for having taken upon them to
extend the time for the importation of corn, Lord
Chatham, in his first speech in the House of Lords,
boldly avowed himself to be an adviser of that meas-
ure. " My colleagues, (said he,) as 1 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 observ-
ed, " Now, Sir, we see that he took these words as he
found them ; without considering, that though the ex-
pression in Scripture, take up thij bed and walk, 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 news-paper one
of Mr. Grattan's animated and glowing speeches, in
favour of the freedom of Ireland, in which this ex-
pression 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 mean-
404 THE LIFE OP
1784. est beg.^ar in Ireland ;" — " Nay, Sir, (said Johnson,)
SaT <^^"'^ y^^ perceive that one link cannot clank ?"
75. Mrs. rhrale ha^^ published,* as Johnson's, a kind of
parody or counterpart f)t" a fine poetical passage in one
of Mr. Burke's speeches on American Taxation. It is
vigorously but somewhat coarsely executed ; and 1 arn
inclined to suppose, is not quite correctly exhibited.
1 h(^pe he did not use the words " vile agoits^' for the
Americans in the House f)f Parliament ; and if he did
so, in an extempore effusion, 1 wish the lady had not
committed it to writing.
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. 1 am well assured, that Mr. Townshend's attack
upon Johnson was the occasion of his " hitching in a
rhyme ;" 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. Towns-
hend is now introduced :
" Though fraught with all learning kept straining
his throat,
" To persuade Tommy TownsJiend to lend him a
vote."
It may be worth remarking, among the minutice 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 uj)on that occasion provided
' " Anecdotes," p. 43.
DR. JOHNSON. 405
himself with a musket, and with a sword and belt, i784.
which I have seen hanging in his closet. Mtai.
He was very constant to those whom he once em- 75.
ployed, if they gave him no reason to be displeased.
W hen somebody talked of being inijDosed on in the pur-
chase of tea and sugar, and such articles : " That will
not be the case, (said he,) if you go to a stutelij ahop^ as
1 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 fiud 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: iov perhaps \\\q money
might he founds and he was sure that his wife was^owe."
A foppish physician once reminded Johnson of his
having been in company with him on a former occa-
sion, " 1 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, 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. Talking of the
Comedy of " The Rehearsal," he said, " It has not wit
enough to keep it sweet." This was easy ; — he there-
fore caught himself, and pronounced a more round sen-
406 THE LIFE OF
1784. tence ; " It has not vitality enough to preserve it from
^^ putrefaction."
75, He censured a writer of entertaining Travels for as-
suming a feigned character, saying, (in his sense of the
word,) " He carries out one lye ; we know not how
many he brings back." 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 treat-
ed of his art, in his " Discourses to the Royal Acade-
my." 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 in-
feriour to Poetry, that the story or even emblem which
it communicates must be previously known, and men-
tioned as a natural and laughable instance of this, that
a httle 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 illus-
trate, but cannot inform."
No man was more ready to make an apology when
he had censured unjustly, than Johnson. VV^hen 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 ar-
ranged, refused to read it, and in a passion desired that
the compositor 3 might be sent to him. The compos-
itor 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.
5 Compositor in the Printing-house means, the person who adjusts the types in
the order in which they are to stand for printing ; aad arranges what is called the
firm, from which an impression is taken.
DR. JOHNSON. 407
Baldwin's printing-house, composed a part of the first 1784.
edition of this work concerning him. By producing ^tat*
the manuscript, he at once satisfied Dr. Johnson that 75. '
he was not to blame. Upon which Johnson candidly
and earnestly said to him, " Mr. Compositor, 1 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 at-
tested : 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 car-
ried 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 a considerable
cxpence, till she was restored to health, and endeav-
oured to put her into a virtuous way of living.*
He thought Mr. Caleb Whitefoord singularly happy
in hitting on the signature of Pupijrius Cur.<>or, to his
ingenious and diverting cross readings of the newspa-
pers ; it being a real name of an ancient Roman, and
clearly expressive of the thing done in this lively
conceit.
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 attkudenise." 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.
An authour of considerable eminence having engross-
" The circumstance therefore alluded to in Mr/Courtenay's " Poetical Character"
of him is strictly true. My informer was Mrs. Desmoulins, who lived many year*
in Dr. Johnson's house.
408 THE LIFE OF
1784. ed a good share of the conversation in the company of
^'^ Johnson, and having said nothing but what was trifling
75. ' and insignificant ; Johnson wlien he was gone, observ-
ed to us, " It is wonderful what a difference there some-
times 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 sup-
posed him to have been restrained by modesty ; but
he has spoken a great deal to-day ; and have you heard
what stuff it was."
A gentleman having said that a conge cPelire has not,
perhaps, the force of a command, but may be consid-
ered only as a strong recommendation ; — " Sir, (replied
Johnson, who overheard him,) it is such a recommen-
dation, as if 1 should throw you out of a two pair of
stairs window, and recommend to you to fall soft. "^
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 Apoph-
thegms, &c. in the Collection of " Johnson's Works."
But he has been pleased to favour me with the follow-
ing, which are original :
" One evening, previous to the trial of Baretti, a con-
sultation of his friends was held at the house of Mr.
Cox, the solicitor, in Southampton-buildings, Chance-
ry-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. Stee-
vens observed, that the question between him and his
friend had been agitated with rather too much warmth.
' It may be so, Sir, (replind the Doctor,) for Burke
and I should have been of one opinion, if we had had
no audience."
" Dr. Johnson once assumed a character in which
perhaps even Mr. Boswell never saw him. His curi-
' This has been printed in other publications, " fall to the ground." But Johnson
kimself gave me the true expression which he had used as above ; meaning that
the recommendation left as little choice in the one case as the other.
DR. JOHNSON. 409
osity having been excited by the praises bestowed on ^84.
the celebrated Torre's fireworks at Marybone-Gardens, ^J^
he desired Mr. Steevens to accompany him thither. 75. *
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-snaked, that it was im-
possible 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 both
hold up our sticks, and threaten to break those colour-
ed lamps that surround the Orchestra, and we shall
soon have our wishes gratified. The core of the fire-
works 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 re-
ceived the smallest damage ; but to little purpose were
they lighted, for most of them completely failed. —
The authour of ' The Rambler/ however, may be con-
sidered on this occasion, as the ringleader of a success-
ful 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 fol-
lowing slight instance may show : — Goldsmith's last
Comedy was to be represented during some court-
mourning ; and ^Ir. 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 clothes ; yet being
told that he would find every one else in black, receiv-
ed the intelligence with a profusion of thanks, hastened
to change his attire, all the while repeating his grati-
tude 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
■?o retrograde to any general observance."
VOL. in. .52
410 THE LIFE OF
1784. « He would sometimes found his dislikes on very
^j^ slender circumst.mces. ila|>pening one day to men-
75. tion Mr. Flexman, a Dissenting Minister, witli some
compliment to his exact memory in chronological
matters ; the Doctor replied, ' Let me hear no more
of him, wSir. That is tiie fellow who made the Index
to my Ramblers, and set down the name of Milton
thus : — Milton, Mr. John."
Mr. Steevens adds this testimony : " It is unfortu-
nate, however, for Johnson, that his particularities and
frailties can be more distinctly traced than his good
and amiable exertions. (Jould the many bounties he
studiously concealed, the many acts of humanity he
performed in private, be displayed with equal circum-
stantiality, his defects would be so far lost in the blaze
of his virtues, that the latter only would be regarded."
Though from my very high admiration of Johnson,
1 have wondered that he was not courted by all the
great and all the eminent persons of his time, it ought
fairly to be considered, that no man of humble birth,
who lived entirely by literature, in short no aulhour
by profession, ever rose in this country into that per-
sonal notice which he did. in the course of this
w^ork a numerous variety of names lYas been mention-
ed, to which many might be added. I cannot omit
Lord and Lady Lucan, at whose house he often en-
joyed all that an elegant table and the best comjjany
can contribute to happiness ; he found hospitality
united with extraordinary accomplishments, and em-
bellished with charms of which no man could be in-
sensible.
On Tuesday, June 22, I dined with him at The
Litf!rary Club* the last time of his being in that
respectable society. The other members present were
the Bishop of St. Asaph, Lord Eliot, Lord Palmerston,
Dr. Fordyce, and Mr. Malone. He looked ill ; but
had such a manly fortitude, that he did not trouble the
company with melancholy complaints. They all shew-
ed evident marks of kind concern about him, with
which he was much pleased, and he exerted himself
to be as entertaining as his indisposition allowed him.
DR. JOHNSON. 411
The anxiety of his friends to preserve so estimable a '784.
life, as long as human means might be supposed to ^^
have influence, made them plan for him a retreat from 75."
the severity of a British winter, to the mild climate of
Italy. This scheme was at last brought to a serious
resolution at General Paoli's, where I had often talked
of it. One essential matter, however, I understood
was necessary to be previously settled, which was ob-
taining such an addition to his income, as would be
sufficient to enable him to defray the expence in a
manner becoming the first literary character of a great
nation, and, independent of all his other merits, the
Authourof The Dictionary of the English Lan-
guage. The person to whom I above all others
thought I should apply to negociate this business, was
the Lord Chancellor,^ because I knew that he highly
valued Johnson, and that Johnson highly valued his
Lordship ; so that it was no degradation of my illus-
trious friend to solicit for him the favour of such a
man. 1 have mentioned what Johnson said of him to
me when he was at the bar ; and after his Lordship
was advanced to the seals, he said of him, " I would
prepare myself for no man in England but Lord fhur-
low." When I afii to meet with him, " I should wish
to know a day before." How he would have prepared
himself, 1 cannot conjecture. Would he have selected
certain topirks, and considered them in every view, so
as to be in readiness to argue them at all points ? and
what may we suppose those topicks to have been ? I
once started the curious enquiry to the great man who
was the subject of this compliment : he smiled, but
did not pursue it.
1 first consulted with Sir Joshua Reynolds, who per-
fectly coincided in opinion with me ; and 1 therefore,
though personally very little known to his Lordship,
wrote to him,^ stating the case, and requesting his
' Edward Lord Thurlow, [who died September 11, 1806. M.]
" It is strange that Sir John Hawkins should have related that the apphcation
was made by Sir Joshua Reynolds, when he could so easily have been informed of
the truth by enquiring of Sir Joshua. Sir John's carelessness to ascertain facts is
very remarkable.
412 THE LIFE OF
1784. good offices for Dr. Johnson. I mentioned that I was
^^J^ obliged to set out for Scotland early in the following
75. week, so that if his Lordship should have any com-
mands for me as to this pious negociation, he would
be pleased to send them before that time ; otherwise
Sir Joshua Reynolds would give all attention to it.
This application was made not only without any
suggestion on the part of Johnson himself, but was
utterly unknown to him, nor had he the smallest sus-
picion of it. Any insinuations, therefore, which since
his death have been thrown out, as if he had stooped
to ask what was siiperfluous, are without any founda-
tion. But, had he asked it, it would not have been
superfluous ; for though the money he had saved
proved to be more than his friends imagined, or than 1
believe he himself, in his carelessness concerning
worldly matters, knew it to be, had he travelled upon
the Continent, an augmentation of his income would
by no means have been unnecessary.
On Wednesday, June 93,- 1 visited him in the morn-
ing, after having been present at the shocking sight of
fifteen men executed before Newgate. I said to him,
I was sure that human life was not machinery, that is
to say, a chain of fatality planned and directed by the
Supreme Being, as it had in it so much wickedness
and misery, so many instances of both, as that by which
my mind was now clouded.
Were it machinery, it would be better than it is in
these respects, though less noble, as not being a sys-
tem of moral government. He agreed with me now,
as he always did, upon the great question of the liberty
of the human will, which has been in all ages perplex-
ed with so much sophistry, " But, Sir, as to the doc-
trine of Necessity, no man believes it. If a man should
give me arguments that 1 do not see, though I could
not answer them, should I believe that 1 do not see ?"
It will be observed, that Johnson at all times made the
just distinction between doctrines contrary to reason,
and doctrines above reason.
Talking of the religious discipline proper for unhappy
convicts, he said, "Sir, one of our regular clergy wiM
DR. JOHNSON. 413
probably not impress their minds sufficiently : they ^784.
should be attended by a Methodist preacher ;^ or a Po- ^^^
pish priest." Let me however observe, in justice to the 75.
Reverend Mr. Vilette, who has been Ordinary of New-
gate for no less than eighteen years, in the course of
which he has attended many hundreds of wretched
criminals, that his earnest and humane exhortations
have been very effectual. His extraordinary diligence
is highly praise-worthy, and merits a distinguished
reward. 5'
On Thursday, June 24, I dined with him at Mr.
Dilly's, where were the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Knox,
master of Tunbridge-school, Mr. Smith, Vicar of Southill,
Dr. Beattie, Mr. Jpinkerton, authour of various literary
peformances, and the Rev. Dr. Mayo. At my desire
old Mr. I^heridan was invited, as 1 was earnest to have
Johnson and him brought together again by chance,
that a reconcilation might be effected. Mr. Sheridan
happened to come early, and having learnt that Dr.
Johnson was to be there, went away ; so 1 found, with
sincere regret, that my friendly intentions were hope-
less. I recollect nothing that passed this day, except
Johnson's quickness, who, when Dr. Beattie observed,
as something remarkable which had happened to him,
that he had chanced to see both No. 1, and No. 1000,
of the hacknev-coaches, the first and the last ; " Why,
Sir, (said Johnson,) there is an equal chance for one's
seeing those two numbers as any other two." He was
clearly right ; yet the seeing of the two extremes, each
of which is in some degree more conspicuous than the
rest, could not but strike one in a stronger manner than
the sight of any other two numbers. — Though 1 have
neglected to preserve his conversation, it was perhaps
at this interview that Dr. Knox formed the notion of it
which he has exhibited in his "Winter Evenings."
On Friday, June 25, I dined with him at General
Paoli's, where, he says in one of his letters to Mrs.
' A friend of mine happened to be passing by 2ifeld congregation in the environs
cf London, when a Methodist preacher quoted this passage with triumph.
' I trust that The City of London, no w happily in unison with The Court,
TviU have the justice and generosity to obtain preferment for this Reverend Gen-
T.eman. now a worthy old servant of that magnificent Corporation.
il^ THE LIFE OF
1784. Thrale, " I love to dine." There was a variety of dish-
2^ es much to his taste, of all which he seemed to me to
75. eat so much, that 1 was afraid he might be hurt by it ;
and 1 whispered to the General my fear, and begged he
might not press him. "Alas! (said the General,) see
how very ill he looks ; he can live but a very short
time. Would you refuse any slight gratifications to a
man under sentence of death I There is a humane
custom in Italy, by which persons in that melancholy
situation are indulged with having whatever they like
best to eat and drink, even with expensive delicacies."
I shewed him some verses on Lichfield bv Miss
Seward, which I had that day received from her, and
had the pleasure to hear hmi approve of them. He
confirmed to me the truth of a high compliment which
I had been told he had paid to that lady, when she
mentioned to him " The Colombiade," an epick poem,
by Madame du Boccage : — " Madam, there is not any
thing equal to your description of the sea round the
North Pole, in your Ode on the death of Captain
Cooke."
On Sunday, June 27, I found him rather better. I
mentioned to him a young man who was going to
Jamaica with his wife and children, in expectation of
being provided for by two of her brothers settled in
that island, one a clergyman, and the other a physician.
Johnson. " It is a wild scheme. Sir, unless he has a
positive and deliberate invitation. There was a poor
girl, who used to come about me, who had a cousin in
Barbadoes, that, in a letter to her, expressed a wish she
should come out to that Island, and expatiated on the
comforts and happiness of her situation. The poor girl
went out : her cousin was much surprized, and asked
her how she could think of coming ! 'Because, (said
she,) you invited me.' — ' Not 1,' answered the cousin.
The letter was then produced. ' 1 see it is true, (said
she,) that 1 did invite you : but I did not think you
would come.' They lodged her in an out-house,
where she passed her time miserably ; and as soon as
she had an opportunity she returned to England. Al-
ways tell this, when you hear of people going abroad
DR. JOHNSON. 415
to relations, upon a notion of being well received. In 1784.
the case which you mention, it is probable the clergy- ^J^
man spends all he gets, and the physician does not 75. '
know how much he is to get."
We this day dined at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, with
General Paoli, Lord Eliot, (formerly Mr. Eliot, of Port
Eliot,) Dr. Beattie, and some other company. Talking
of Lord Chesterfield ; — Johnson. " His manner was
exquisitely elegant, and he had more knowledge than
I expected." Boswell. " Did you find. Sir, his con-
versation to be of a superiour style." Johnson. " Sir,
in the conversation which 1 had with him 1 had the
best right to superiority, for it was upon philology and
literature." Lord Eliot, who had travelled at the same
time with Mr. Stanhope, Lord Chesterfield's natural
son, justly observed, that it was strange that a man
who shewed he had so much affection for his son as
Lord Chesterfield did, by writing so many long and
anxious letters to him, almost all of them w^hen he was
Secretary of State, which certainly was a proof of great
goodness of disposition, should endeavour to make his
son a rascal. IJis Lordship told us, that Foote had
intended to bring on the stage a father who had thus
tutored his son, and to shew the son an honest man to
every one else, but practising his father's maxims upon
him, and cheating him. Johnson. " 1 am much pleas-
ed with this design ; but I think there was no occasion
to make the son honest at all. No ; he should be a
consummate rogue : the contrast between honesty and
knavery would be the stronger. It should be contrived
so that the father should be the only sufferer by the
son's villany, and thus there would be poetical prej-
udice.
He put Lord Eliot in mind of Dr. Walter Harte. " I
know, (said he,) Harte was your Lordship's tutor, and
he was also tutor to the Peterborough family. Pray,
my Lord, do you recollect any particulars that he told
you of Lord Peterborough 1 He is a favourite of mine,
and is not enough known ; his character has been only
ventilated in party pamphlets," Lord Eliot said, if Dr.
Johnson would be so good as to ask him any questions,
416 THE LIFE OF
J784. lie would tell what he could recollect. Accordingly
^[^sorae things were mentioned. " But, (said his Lord-
75. ship,) the best account of Lord Peterborough that I have
happened to meet with, is in, ' Captain Carleton's Me-
moirs.' Carleton was descended of an ancestor who
had distinguished himself at the siege of Derry. He
was an officer; and, what was rare at that time, had
some knowledge of engineering." Johnson said, he had
never heard of the book. Lord Eliot had it at Port El-
iot ; but, after a good deal of enquiry, procured a copy
in London, and sent it to Johnson, who told Sir Joshua
Reynolds that he was going to bed when it came, but
was so much pleased with it, that he sat up till he had
read it through, and found in it such an air of truth,
that he could not doubt of its authenticity ; adding,
with a smile, (in allusion to Lord Eliot's having recently
been raised to the peerage,) " 1 did not think di young
Lord could have mentioned to me a book in the Eng-
lish history that was not known to me."
An addition to our company came after we went up
to the drawing room ; Dr. Johnson seemed to rise in
spirits as his audience increased. He said, " He wished
Lord Orford's pictures, and Sir Ashton Lever's Museum,
might be purchased by the publick, because both the
money, and the pictures, and the curiosities would re-
main in the country ; whereas if they were sold into
another kingdom, the nation would indeed get some
money, but would lose the pictures and curiosities,
which it would be desirable we should have, for im-
provement in taste and natural history. The only quest-
ion was, as the nation was much in want of money,
whether it would not be better to take a large price
from a foreign State ?"
He entered upon a curious discussion of the differ-
ence between intuition and sagacity ; one being imme-
diate in its effect, the other requiring a circuitous pro-
cess ; one he observed was the eije of the mind, the
other the nose of the mind.
A young gentleman present took up the argument
against him, and maintained that no man ever thinks of
the nose of the mind, not adverting that though that fig-
DR. JOHNSON. 417
urative sense seems strange to us, as very unusual, it is ^784.
truly not more forced than Hamlet's '^ In my 7)wtd's ^(^
ei/e, Horatio." He persisted much too long, and ap- 75. *
peared to Johnson as putting himself forward as his an-
tagonist with too much presumption : upon which he
called to him in a loud tone, " What is it you are con-
tending for, if you be contending !" — And afterwards
imagining that the gentleman retorted upon him with
a kind of smart drollery, he said, " Mr. *****, jt does
not become you to talk so to me. Besides, ridicule is
not your talent ; you have t/iere neither intuition nor
sagacity." — The gentleman protested that he had in-
tended no improper freedom, but had the greatest re-
spect for Dr. Johnson. After a short pause, during
which we were somewhat uneasy. — Johnson. " Give
me your hand, Sir. You were too tedious, and I was
too short. Mr. *****, " Sir, I am honoured by your
attention in any way." Johnson. "Come, Sir, let's
have no more of it. We offended one another by our
contention ; let us not offend the company by our com-
pliments."
He now said, " He wished much to go to Italy, and
that he dreaded passing the winter in England." I said
nothing ; but enjoyed a secret satisfaction in thinking
that 1 had taken the most effectual measures to make
such a scheme practicable.
On Monday, June 28, I had the honour to receive
from the Lord Chancellor the following letter :
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
'•SIR,
" I SHOULD have answered your letter immedi-
ately ; if, (being much engaged when 1 received it) I
had not put it in my pocket, and forgot to open it till
this morning.
" I am much obliged to you for the suggestion ; and
I will adopt and press it as far as I can. The best ar-
gument, 1 am sure, and I hope it is not likely to fail, is
Dr Johnson's merit. — But it will be necessary, if I
should be so unfortunate as to miss seeing you, to con-
VOL. III. .53
418 THE LIFE OF
1784. verse with Sir Joshua on the sum it will be proper to
^J^ ask, — in short, upon the means of setting him out. It
75. * would be a reflection on us ail, if such a man should
perish for want of the means to take care of his health.
" Your's, &c.
" Thurlow."
This letter gave me a very high satisfaction ; I next
day went and shewed it to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who
was exceedingly pleased with it. He thought that I
should now communicate the negociation to Dr. John-
son, who might afterwards complain if the attention
with which he had been honoured, should be too long
concealed from him. 1 intended to set out for Scot-
land next morning ; but Sir Joshua cordially insisted
that I should stay another day, that Johnson and I
might dine with him, that we three might talk of his
Italian Tour, and, as Sir Joshua expressed himself,
" have it all out." I hastened to Johnson, and was
told by him that he was rather better to-day. Bos-
well. " I am very anxious about you. Sir, and par-
ticularly that you should go to Italy for the winter,
which I believe is your own wish." Johnson. " It is,
Sir." BoswELL. " You have no objection, I presume,
but the money it would require." Johnson. " Why,
no. Sir." — Upon which 1 gave him a particular account
of what had been done, and read to him the Lord
Chancellor's letter. — He listened with much attention;
then warmly said, " This is taking prodigious pains
about a man." — " O, Sir, (said I, with most sincere
affection,) your friends would do every thing for you."
He paused, — grew more and more agitated, — till tears
started into his eyes, and he exclaimed with fervent
emotion, " God bless you all." 1 was so affected
that I also shed tears. — After a short silence, he re-
newed and extended his grateful benediction, " God
bless you all, for Jesus Christ's sake." We both
remained for some time unable to speak. — He rose
suddenly and quitted the room, quite melted in ten-
derness. He staid but a short time, till he had recov-
ered his firmness ; soon after he returned I left him,
DR. JOHNSON. 419
having first engaged him to dine at Sir Joshua Rey- '784.
nolds's next day. — I never was again under that roof ^^
which 1 had so long reverenced. 75.
On Wednesday, June 30, the friendly confidential
dinner with Sir Joshua Reynolds took place, no other
company being present. Had 1 known that this was
the last time that I should enjoy in this world, the
conversation of a friend whom 1 so much respected,
and from whom I derived so much instruction and en-
tertainment, 1 should have been deeply affected. When
I now look back to it, I am vexed that a single word
should have been forgotten.
Both Sir Joshua and 1 were so sanguine in our ex-
pectations, that we expatiated with confidence on the
liberal provision which we were sure would be made for
him, conjecturing whether munificence would be dis-
played in one large donation, or in an ample increase
of his pension. He himself catched so much of our
enthusiasm, as to allow himself to suppose it not im-
possible that our hopes might in one way or other be
realised. He said that he would rather have his pension
doubled than a grant of a thousand pounds ; " For,
(said he,) though probably I may not live to receive as
much as a thousand pounds, a man would have the
consciousness that he should pass the remainder of his
life in splendour, how long soever it might be." Con-
sidering what a moderate proportion an income of six
hundred pounds a year bears to innumerable fortunes
in this country, it is worthy of remark, that a man so
truly great should think it splendour.
As an instance of extraordinary liberality of friend-
ship, he told us, that Dr. Brocklesby had upon this
occasion oflfered him a hundred a year for his life. A
grateful tear started into his eye, as he spoke this in a
faltering tone.
Sir Joshua and 1 endeavoured to flatter his imagina-
tion with agreeable prospects of happiness in Italy.
" Nay, (said he,) 1 must not expect much of that ;
when a man goes to Italy merely to feel how he
breathes the air, he can enjoy very little/'
420 THE LIFE OF
1/84. Our conversation turned upon living in the country,
2^ which Johnson, whose melancholy mind required the
75. dissipation of quick successive variety, had habituated
himself to consider as a kind of mental imprisonment.
*' Yet, Sir, (said 1,) there are many people who are
content to live in the country." Johnson. " Sir, it is
in the intellectual world as in the physical world ; we
are told by natural philosophers that a body is at rest
in the place that is fit for it ; they who are content to
live in the country, are^V for the country."
Talking of various enjoyments, 1 argued that a re-
finement of taste was a disadvantage, as they who have
attained to it must be seldomer pleased than those who
have no nice discrimination, and are therefore satisfied
with every thing that comes in their way. Johnson.
"Nay, Sir; that is a paltry notion. Endeavour to be
as perfect as you can in every respect."
1 accompanied him in Sir Joshua Reynolds's coach,
to the entry of Bolt-court. He asked me whether I
would not go with him to his house ; I declined it,
irom an apprehension that my spirits would sink. We
bade adieu to each other affectionately in the carriage.
When he had got down upon the foot-pavement, he
called out, *' Fare you well ;" and without looking
back, sprung away with a kind of pathetick briskness,
if 1 may use that expression, which seemed to indicate
a struggle to conceal uneasiness, and impressed ijDe
with a foreboding of our long, long separation.
I remained one day more in town, to have the chance
of talking over my negociation with the Lord Chancel-
lor ; but the multiplicity of his Lordship's important
engagements did not allow of it ; so I left the manage-
ment of the business in the hands of Sir Joshua
Reynolds.
Soon after this time Dr. Johnson had the mortifica-
tion of being informed by Mrs. Thrale, that, " what
she supposed he never believed,"' was true ; namely,
that she was actually going to marry Signor Piozzi, an
Italian musick-master. He endeavoured tp prevent it;
' •« Letters to Mrs. Thrale," Vol, II. page 375,
DR. JOHNSON. 421
but in vain. If she would publish the whole of the 1784.
correspondence that passed between Dr. Johnson and ^^
her on the subject, we should have a full view of his 75. *
real sentiments. As it is, our judgement must be
biassed by that characteristick specimen which Sir John
Hawkins has given us : '• Poor Thrale, 1 thought that
either her virtue or her vice would have restrained her
from such a marriage. She is now become a subject
for her enemies to exult over ; and for her friends, if
she has any left, to forget, or pity."^
It must be admitted that Johnson derived a consider-
able portion of happiness from the comforts and ele-
gancies which he enjoyed in Mr. Thrale's family ; but
Mrs. Thrale assures us he was indebted for these to her
husband alone, who certainly respected him sincerely.
Her words are. Veneration for his virtue^ reverence Jor
his talents^ delight in his conversation^ and habitual
endurance of a yoke ray husband first put upon me,
and of which he contentedly bore Itis share for sixteen
or seventeen years^ made me go on so long with Mr.
Johnson; hut the perpetual confinement I imll own to
have been terrifying «/z the first years of our friendship^
and irksome in the last ; nor could I pretend to support
it imthout help^ when my coadjutor zvas no more."^ Alas !
how different is this from the declarations which I have
heard Mrs. Thrale make in his life time, without a sin-
gle murmur against any peculiarities, or against any
one circumstance which attended their intimacy.
As a sincere friend of the great man whose Life 1
am writing, I think it necessary to guard my readers
against the mistaken notion of Dr. Johnson's character,
which this lady's " Anecdotes" of him suggest ; for
from the very nature and form of her book, " it lends
deception lighter wings to fly."
" Let it be remembered, (says an eminent critick,*)
that she has comprised in a small volume all that she
could recollect of Dr. Johnson in twentif years, during
^ Dr. Johnson's Letter to Sir John Hawkins, " Life," p. 570.
• " Anecdotes," p. 29S.
* Who has been pleased to furnish me with his remarks.
422 THE LIFE OF
1784. which period, doubtless, some severe things were said
^j^ by him ; and they who read the book in two hours, nat-
75, urally enough suppose that his whole conversation was
of this complexion. But the fact is, I have been often
in his company, and never once heard him say a severe
thing to any one ; and many others can attest the same.
When he did say a severe thmg, it was generally extort-
ed by ignorance pretending to knowledge, or by extreme
vanity or affectation.
" Two instances of inaccuracy, (adds he,) are pecu-
liarly worthy of notice :
" It is said, ^ ' That natural roughness of his manner so
often mentioned, ziaould, tiotwithstanding the regularity
of his notions, burst through them all from time to time;
and he once bade a very celebrated lady, x<Dho praised
him with too much zeal perhaps, or perhaps too strong
an emphasis, f which always offended him,) consider what
herfatterif zvas worth, before she choaked him zoitk it.'
" Now let the genuine anecdote be contrasted with
this. — The person thus represented as being harshly
treated, though a very celebrated lady, was then just
come to London from an obscure situation in the coun-
try. At Sir Joshua Reynolds's one evening, she met
Dr. Johnson. She very soon began to pay her court to
him in the most fulsome strain. ' Spare me, I beseech
you, dear Madam,^ was his reply. She still laid it on.
' Pray, Madam, let us have no more of this ;' he re-
joined. Not paying any attention to these warnings,
she continued still her eulogy. At length, provoked
by this indelicate and :,'«/« obtrusion of compliment, he
exclaimed, ' Dearest lady, consider with yourself what
your flattery is worth, before you bestow it so freely.'
" How different does this story appear, when accom-
panied with all these circumstances which really belong
to it, but which Mrs. Thrale either did not know, or
has suppressed.
" She says, in another place, ^ ' One gentleman, how-
ever, who dined at a nobleman\s house in his company, and
^ '' " Anecdotes," p. 1 83.
' " Anecdotes," p. 242,
DR. JOHNSON. 423
that o/Mr. Thrale, to zvhom I was obliged for the anec- •784.
dote^ zaas usilling to enter the lists in defence of King ^^^
William's character; and having opposed and contra- 75,
dieted Johnson tzvo or three timeSy petulantly enough,
the master of the house began to feel uneasy, and expect
disagreeable consequences ; to avoid which he said, loud
enough for the Doctor to hear, — ' Our friend here has
no meaning noi<o in all this, except just to relate at club
to-morroiv hozv he teazed Johnson at dinner to-day ; this
is all to do himself honour.' — * No, upon my zfaord, (re-
plied the other,) I see no honour in it, zohatever you
may do.' — ' Well, Sir, (returned Mr. Johnson, sternly, J
if you do not see the honour, I am sure I feel the dis-
grace.'
" This is all sophisticated. Mr. Thrale was not in
the company, though he might have related the story
to Mrs. Thrale. A friend, from whom I had the story,
was present ; and it was not at the house of a noble-
man. On the observation being made by the master
of the house on a gentleman's contradicting Johnson,
that he had talked for the honour, &c. the gentleman
muttered in a low voice, ' I see no honour in it ;' and
Dr. Johnson said nothing : so all the rest, {though bieft
trouvee) is mere garnish.
I have had occasion several times, in the course of
this work, to point out the incorrectness of Mrs.
Thrale, as to particulars which consisted with my own
knowledge. But indeed she has, in flippant terms
enough, expressed her disapprobation of that anxious
desire of authenticity which prompts a person who is to
record conversations, to write them down at the mo-
ment. ^ Unquestionably, if they are to be recorded at
all, the sooner it is done the better. This lady herself
says, ^ " To recollect, however, and to repeat the sayings
o/"Dr. Johnson, is almost all that can be done by the
Zi>riters of his Lfe ; as his life, at least since my ac-
quaintance zmth him, consisted in little else than talk-
ing^ zohen he was not employed in some serious piece of
zmrk." She boasts of her having kept a common-place
" " Anecdotes " p. 44. » Ibid. p. 23.
424; THE LIFE OF
1784. book ; anrd we find she noted, at one time or other, in
SaT ^ "^^^y ^^^^^y inanner, specimens of the conversation of
75. ' Dr. Johnson, and of those who talked with him ; but
had she done it recently, they probably would have
been less erroneous ; and we should have been relieved
from those disagreeable doubts of their authenticity,
with which we must now peruse them.
She says of him.' He was the most charitable of
mot^ta/s, zaithoiit being vohat we call an active friend.
Admirable at giving cowisel ; ?io man saw his way so
clearly ; but he would not stir a finger for the assist-
ance of those to whom he was ivilling enough to give ad-
vice." And again on the same page, " If you wanted
a slight favour, you must apply to people of other dis-
positions ; for not a step would Johnson move to
obtain a man a vote in a society, to repaij a compliment
which might be useful or pleasing, to zvrite a letter of
request, ^'C. or to obtain a hundred pounds a year more
for a friend who perhaps had already two or three. No
force could urge him to diligence, no importunity could
conquer his resolution to stand still."
It is amazing that one who had such opportunities
of knowing Dr. Johnson, should appear so little ac-
quainted with his real character. I am sorry this lady
does not advert, that she herself contradicts the asser-
tion of his being obstinately defective in the petites
morales, in the little endearing charities of social life,
in conferring smaller favours ; for she says,* " Dr.
Johnson was liberal enough in granting Uteranj assist-
ance to others, I think ; and irihiumerable are the Pre-
faces, Sermons, Lectures, and Dedications which he
used to make for people zvho begged of him." I am
certain that a more active friend has rarely been found
in any age. This work, which I fondly hope will
rescue his memory from obloquy, contains a thousand
instances of his benevolent exertions in almost every
way that can be conceived ; and particularly in em-
ploying his pen with a generous readiness for those to
whom its aid could be useful. Indeed his obliging
' " Anecdotes," p. 51. ' Ibid. p. 193.
DR. JOHNSON. 425
activity in doing little offices of kindness, both by letters '784.
and personal application, was one of the most remark- ^tat^
able features in his cliaracter ; and for the truth of this 75.
I can appeal to a number of his respectable friends :
Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Langton, Mr. Hamilton,
Mr. Burke, Mr. Windham, Mr. Malone, the Bishop of
Dromore, Sir William Scott, Sir Robert Chambers. —
And can Mrs. Thrale forget the advertisements which
he wrote for her husband at the time of his election
contest ; the epitaphs on him and her mother ; the
playful and even trifling verses, for the amusement of
her and her daughters ; his corresponding with her
children, and entering into their minute concerns, which
shews him in the most amiable light ?
She relates,^ that Mr. Ch — Im — ley unexpectedly
rode up to Mr. Thrale's carriage, in which Mr. Thrale
and she, and Dr. Johnson were travelling ; that he paid
them all his proper compliments, but observing that
Dr. Johnson, who was reading, did not see him, " tupt
him gently on the shoulder. ' ^Tis Mr. Ch — Im-— ley ;'
saijs rnij husband. ' WeU., Sir — cmd what if it is
Mr. Ch — Im — ley •' says the other., sternlij., just lift-
ing his eijes a moment from his book, and returning to
it again z<Dith renewed avidity.^^ This surely conveys a
notion of Johnson, as if he had been grossly rude to
Mr. Cholmondley,^ a gentleman whom he always
loved and esteemed. If, therefore, there was an abso-
lute necessity for mentioning the story at all, it might
have been thought that her tenderness for Dr. John-
son's character would have disposed her to state any
thing that could soften it. Why then is there a total
silence as to what Mr. Cholmondley told her \ — that
Johnson, who had known him from his earliest years,
havinsf been made sensible of what had doubtless a
strange appearance, took occasion, when he afterwards
met him, to make a very courteous and kind apology.
There is another little circumstance which 1 cannot
2 " Anecdotes," p. 258.
3 George James Choimondley, Esq. grandson of George, third Earl of Chol-
mondley, and one of the Commissioners of Excise; a gentleman respected for his
abilities, and elegance of manners.
VOL. III. 54"
11'6 lllE LIFE OF
1784. but remark. Her book was published in l?8d, she
^!^ had then in her possession a letter from Dr. Johnson,
75. ' dated in 1777,-^ which begins thus; " Cholraondley's
story shocks me, if it be true, which 1 can hardly think,
for I am utterly unconscious of it : I am very sorry,
and very much ashamed." Why then publish the
anecdote I Or if she did, why not add the circum-
stances, with which she was well acquainted ]
In his social intercourse she thus describes him :^
" Ever musing till he ikjcis called out to converse, and
conversing till the fatigue of hisjriends, or the prompt-
itude of his own temper to take offence, consigned him
hack again to silent meditation.''^ Yet, in the same
book,*^ she tells us, " He was, however, seldom inclined
to be silent, when any moral or Uterarij question loas
started ; and it was on such occasions tliat, like the Sage
in ' Rasselas,' he spoke, and attention ivatched his lips ;
he reasoned, and conviction closed his periods." — His
conversation, indeed, was so far from e\ ex fatiguing his
friends, that they regretted when it was interrupted or
ceased, and could exclaim in Milton's language,
" With thee conversing, I forgot all time."
I certainly, then, do not claim too much in behal*
of my illustrious friend in saying, that however smart
and entertaining Mrs. Thrale's " Anecdotes" are, they
must not be held as good evidence against him ; for
wherever an instance of harshness and severity is told,
I beg leave to doubt its perfect authenticity ; for
♦ though there may have been some foundation for it,
yet, like that of his reproof to the '' very celebrated
lady," it may be so exhibited in the narration as to be
verv unlike the real fact.
The evident tendency of the following anecdote^ is
to represent Dr. Johnson as extremely deficient in af-
fection, tenderness, or even common civility. " When
I one day lamented the loss of a first cousin kHled in
" " Letters to Mrs. Thrale," Vol. II. p. 12.
' " zlnecdotes," p. 23. « Ibid p. 302.
■ " Anecdotes," p. 63.
DR. JOHNSON. 427
America, — ' Prithee^ mij dear^ (said he J have done •7^'*'
with canting ; how i<i)Ould the zvor/d be the icorse for it^ ^^
1 may ask^ ij' all your relations tuyere at once spitted like 7.5.
larks, and roasted for Presto's supper V — Presto iidus
the dog that lay under the table ivhile k'<? talked.^' — I
suspect this too of exaggeration and distortion. 1 allow
that he made her an angry speech ; but let the cir-
cumstances fairly appear, as told by Mr. Baretti, who
Avas present : ,
" Mrs. Thrale, while supping very heartily upon
larks, laid down her knife and fork, and abruptly ex-
claimed, ' O, my dear Johnson, do you know what has
happened ? The last letters from abroad have brought
us an account that our poor cousin's head was taken
off by a cannon-ball.' Johnson, who was shocked both
at the fact, and her light unfeeling manner of mention-
ing it, replied, " Madam, it would give you very little
concern if all your relations were spitted like those
larks, and drest for Presto's supper."^
It is with concern that I find myself obliged to ani-
madvert on the inaccuracies of Mrs. Piozzi's " Anec-
dotes," and perhaps 1 may be thought to have dwelt
too long upon her little collection. But as fronl
Johnson's long residence under Mr. Thrale's roof, and
his intimacy with her, the account which she has given
of him may have made an unfavourable and unjust
impression, my duty, as *a faithful biographer, has
obliged me reluctantly to perform this unpleasing task.
Having left the pious negociation, as I called it, in
the best hands, I shall here insert what relates to it.
Johnson wrote to Sir Joshua Reynolds on July 6, as
follows ; " I am going, 1 hope, in a few days, to try
« Upon mentioning this to my friend Mr. Wilkes, he, with his usual readiness,
pleasantly matched it with the following sentimental anecdote. He was invited by a
young man of fasliion at Paris, to sup with him and a lady, who had been for
some time his mistress, but with whom he was going to part. He said to Mr.
Wilkes that he really felt very much for her, she was in such distress ; and that
he meant to make her a present of two hundred louis-d'ors. Mr. Wilkes observed
the behaviour of Mademoiselle, who sighed indeed very piteously, and assumed
every pathetick air of grief; but eat no less than three French pigeons, which are as
large as English partridges, besides other things. Mr. Wilkes whispered the gentle-
man, " We often say in England, Excessi'ue sorroiv is exceeding dry, hut I never heard
Excessive sorroiv is exceeding hungry. Perhaps one -hundred will do." The gentle-
man took the hint.
428 THE LIFE OF
1784. the air of Derbyshire, but hope to see you before I go.
^^ Let me, however, mention to you what 1 have much
75. at heart. — If the Chancellor should continue his atten-
tion to Mr. Boswell's request, and confer with you on
the means of relieving my languid state, 1 am very
desirous to avoid the appearance of asking money upon
false pretences. 1 desire you to represent to his Lord-
ship, what, as soon as it is suggested, he will perceive
to be reasonable, — That, if I grow much worse, 1 shall
be afraid to leave my physicians, to suffer the incon-
veniences of travel, and pine in the solitude of a foreign
country ; — That, if 1 grow much better, of which in-
deed there is now little app( arance, 1 shall not wish to
leave my friends and my domestick comforts ; for 1 do
not travel for pleasure or curiosity ; yet if 1 should re-
cover, curiosity would revive. — In my present state, I
am desirous to make a struggle for a little longer life,
and hope to obtain some help from a softer climate.
Do for me what you can." He wrote to me July 26 :
" 1 wish your affairs could have permitted a longer and
continued exertion of your zeal and kindness. They
that have your kindness may want your ardour. In
the mean time I am very feeble, and very dt jected."
By a letter from Sir Joshua Reynolds 1 was informed,
that the Lord Chancellor had called on him, and ac-
quainted him that the application had not been suc-
cessful ; but that his Lordship, after speaking highly
in praise of Johnson, as a man who was an honour to
his country, desired Sir Joshua to let him know, that
on granting a mortgage of his pension, he should draw
on his Lordship to the amount of five or six hundred
pounds ; and that his Lordship explained the meaning
of the mortgage to be, that he wished the business to
be conducted in such a manner, that Dr. Johnson
should appear to be, under the least possible obligation.
Sir Joshua mentioned, that he had by the same post
communicated all this to Dr. Johnson.
How Johnson was affected upon the occasion will
appear from what he wrote to Sir Joshua Reynolds :
Ashbourne, Sept. 9. " Many words 1 hope are not
necessary between you and me, to convince you what
DR. JOHNSON. 429
gratitude is excited in my heart by the Chancellor's i784.
liberality, and your kind offices. ******. ^^
" I have enclosed a letter to the Chancellor, which, 75. '
when you have read it, you will be pleased to seal with
a head, or any other general seal, and convey it to him :
had 1 sent it directly to him, 1 should have seemed to
overlook the favour of your intervention."
" TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR."
" MY LORD,
" After a long and not inattentive observation of
mankind, the generosity of your Lordship's offer raises
in me not less wonder than gratitude. Bounty, so lib-
erally bestowed, 1 should gladly receive, if my condition
made it necessary ; for, to such a mind, who would not
be proud to own his obligations I But it has pleased
God to restore me to so great a measure of health, that
if 1 should now appropriate so much of a fortune des-
tined to do good, 1 could not escape from myself the
charge of advancing a false claim. My journey to the
continent, though 1 once thought it necessary, was
never much encouraged by my physicians ; and I was
very desirous that your Lordship should be told of it by
Sir Joshua Reynolds, as an event very uncertain ; for
if I grew much better, 1 should not be willing, if much
worse, not able, to migrate. — Your Lordship was first
solicited without my knowledge ; but, when 1 was told
that you w^ere pleased to honour me with your patron-
age, 1 did not expect to hear of a refusal ; yet, as 1 have
had no long time to brood hope, and have not rioted in
imaginary opulence, this cold reception has been scarce
a disappointment ; and, from your Lordship's kindness,
1 have received a benefit, which only men like you are
"> sir Joshua Reynolds, on account of the excellence both of the sentiment and
expression of this letter, took a copy of it, which he shewed to some of his friends ;
one of whom, who admired it, being allowed to peruse it leisurely at home, a copy
was made, and found its way into the newspapers and magazines. It was tran-
scribed with some inaccuracies. I print it from the original draft in Johnson's
own hand-writing.
m
430 THE LIFE OF
1784. able to bestow. I shall now live mihi carior, with a
2J^^ higher opinion of my own merit.
75. " I am, my Lord,
"Your Lordship's most obliged,
" Most grateful, and
" Most humble servant,
" September, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
Upon this unexpected failure I abstain from presum-
ing to make any remarks, or to offer any conjectures.
Having, after repeated reasonings, brought Dr. John-
son to agree to my removing to London, and even to
furnish me with arguments in favour of what he had
opposed ; 1 wrote to him requesting he would write
them for me ; he was so good as to comply, and 1 shall
extract that part of his letter to me of June 11, as a
proof how well he could exhibit a cautious yet encour-
aging view of it :
" 1 remember, and intreat you to remember, that vir-
tus est vitium fugere ; the first approach to riches is se-
curity froin poverty. The condition upon which you
have my consent to settle in London is, that your ex-
pence never exceeds your annual income. Fixing this
basis of security, you cannot be hurt, and you may be
very much advanced. The loss of your Scottish busi-
ness, which is all that you can lose, is not to be reckon-
ed as any equivalent to the hopes and possibilities that
open here upon you. If you succeed, the question of
prudence is at an end ; every b9dy will think that done
right which ends happily ; and though your expecta-
tions, of which I would not advise you to talk too much,
should not be totally answered, you can hardly fail to
get friends who will do for you all that your present sit-
uation allows you to hope ; and if, after a few years,
you should return to Scotland, you will return with a
mind supplied by various conversation, and many op-
portunities of enquiry, with much knowledge, and ma-'
terials for reflection and instruction."
Let us now contemplate Johnson thirty years after
the death of his wife, still retaining for her all the ten-
derness of affection.
I
DR. JOHNSON. 431
4784.
Etat
75.
" TO THE REVEREND MR. BAGSHAW, AT BROMLEY.* ^tat.
" SIR,
" Perhaps you may remember, that in the year
1753, you committed to the ground my dear wife. I
now entreat your permission to lay a stone upon her ;
and have sent the inscription, th^t, if you find it proper,
you ma}' signify your allowance.
" You will do me a great favour by showing the place
where she lies, that the stone may protect her remains.
" Mr. Ryland will wait on you for the inscription,^
and procure it to be engraved. You will easily believe
that I shrink from this mournful office. When it is
done, if J have strength remaining, I will visit Bromley
once again, and pay you part of the respect to which
you have a right from, Reverend Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" J«/y 12, 1784. "Sam. Johnson."
On the same day he wrote to Mr. Langton : " I can-
not but think that in my languid and anxious state, I
have some reason to complain that I receive from you
neither enquiry nor consolation. You know how much
I value your friendship, and with what confidence I ex-
pect your kindness, if 1 wanted any act of tenderness
that you could perform ; at least, if you do not know it,
I think your ignorance is your own fault. Yet how
long is it that I have lived almost in your neighbour-
hood without the least notice. — I do not, however,
consider this neglect as particularly shown to me ; I
hear two of your most valuable friends make the
same complaint. But why are all thus overlooked !
You are not oppressed by sickness, you are not dis-
tracted by business ; if you are sick, you are sick of
leisure : — And allow yourself to be told, that no disease
is more to be dreaded or avoided. Rather to do noth-
ing than to do good, is the lowest state of a degraded
mind. Boileau says to his pupil,
'See Vol, II. p 98. : Printed in Ws Work?.
432 THE LIFE OP
J 784. « Que les vers ne soient pas vdtre eternel emploi^
Mint. ' Cultivez vos amis.^
That voluntary debility, which modern language is con-
tent to term indolence, will, if it is not counteracted by
resolution, render in time the strongest faculties lifeless,
and turn the flame to the smoke of virtue. — i do not ex-
pect nor desire to see you, because 1 am much pleased
to find that your mother stays so long with you, and I
should think you neither elegant nor grateful, if you did
not study her gratification. You will pay my respects
to both the ladies, and to all the young people. — I am
going Northward for a while, to try what help the coun-
try can give me ; but, if you will write, the letter will
come after me."
Next day he set out on a jaunt to Staffordshire and
Derbyshire, flattering himself that he might be in some
degree relieved.
During his absence from London he kept up a cor-
respondence with several of his friends, from which I
shall select what appears to me proper for publication,
without attending nicely to chronological order.
To Dr. Brocklesby, he writes, Ashbourne, July 20.
" The kind attention which you have so long shewn to
my health and happiness, makes it as much a debt of
gratitude as a call of interest, to give you an account of
what befalls me, when accident recovers^ me from your
immediate care. — The journey of the first day was per-
formed with very little sense of fatigue ; the second day
brought me to Lichfield, without much lassitude ; but
I am afraid that 1 could not have bore such violent
agitation for many days together. Tell Dr. Heberden,
that in the coach I read ' Ciceronian us' which I con-
cluded as I entered Lichfield. My affection and under-
standing went along with Erasmus, except that once or
twice he somewhat unskilfully entangles Cicero's civil
or moral, with his rhetorical character. — I staid five days
at Lichfield, but, being unable to walk, had no great
^ [This is probably an errour either of the transcript or the press. Remo-^'n
seems to be the word intended M.^
DR. JOHNSON. 433
pleasure, and yesterday (1 9th) I came hither, where I »784.
am to try what air and attention can perform. — Of any ^^^
improvement in my health I cannot yet please myself 75. *
with the perception. ***** *. — Xhe asthma has no
abatement. Opiates stop the fit, so as that 1 can sit
and sometimes lie easy, but they do not now procure
me the power of motion ; and 1 am afraid that my gen-
eral strength of body does not encrease. The weather
indeed is not benign ; but how low is he sunk whose
strength depends upon the weather ! — 1 am now looking
into Fioyer, who lived with his asthma to almost his
ninetieth year. His book by want of order is obscure ;
and his asthma, I think, not of the same kind with mine.
Something however I may perhaps learn — My appetite
still continues keen enough ; and what I consider as a
symptom of radical health, I have a voracious delight in
raw summer fruit, of which 1 was less eager a few years
ago. — You will be pleased to communicate this account
to Dr. Heberden, and if any thing is to be done, let
me have your joint opinion. — Now — abite curce ; — let
me enquire after the Club."*
July 31. " Not recollecting that Dr. Heberden
might be at Windsor, I thought your letter long in
coming. But, you know, nocitiira petuntur^ the letter
which I so much desired, tells me that 1 have lost one
of my best and tenderest friends. ^ My comfort is,
that he appeared to live like a man that had always
before his eyes the fragility of our present existence,
and was therefore, I hope, not unprepared to meet his
judge. — Your attention, dear Sir, and that of Dr. He-
berden, to my health, is extremely kind, I am loath
to think that 1 grow worse ; and cannot fairly prove
even to my own partiality, that I grow much better."
August 5. " 1 return you thanks, dear Sir, for your
unwearied attention, both medicinal and friendly, and
hope to prove the effect of your care by living to ac-
knowledge it."
August 12. " Pray be so kind as to have me in
your thoughts, and mention my case to others as you
"* At the Essex Head, Essex-street.
■ Mr. Allen, the prmter.
VOL. ITT. .5.5
4.'34 THE LIFE OF
^784. have opportunity. I seetn to myself neither to gain
^J^ nor lose strength. 1 have lately tried milk, but have
75. yet found no advantage, and am afraid of it merely as a
liquid. My appetite is still good, which 1 know is dear
Dr. Heberden's criterion of the vis vitce. — As we cannot
now see each other, do not omit to write, for you can-
not think with what warmth of expectation 1 reckon
the hours of a post-day." ^
August 14. "1 have hitherto sent you only melan-
choly letters, you will be glad to hear some better
account. Yesterday the asthma remitted, perceptibly
remitted, and I moved with more ease than I have en-
joyed for many weeks. May God continue his mercy.
— This account I would not delay, because I am not a
lover of complaints, or complainers, and yet I have since
we parted, uttered nothing till now but terrour and sor-
row. Write to me, dear Sir."
August 16. " Better I hope, and better. My res-
piration gets more and more ease and liberty. I went
to church yesterday, after a very liberal dinner, without
any inconvenience ; it is indeed no long walk, but I
never walked it without difficulty, since I came, before.
****** the intention was only to overpower the
seeming vis Iner/iceo^ the pectoral and pulmonary mus-
cles.— I am favoured with a desfree of ease that verv
much delights me, and do not despair of another race
upon the stairs of the Academy. — If I were, however,
of a humour to see, or to show the state of my body,
on the dark side, I might say,
' Quid te exempta juvat sjnnis de phtribus una ?'
The nights are still sleepless, and the water rises,
though it does not rise very fast. Let us, however,
rejoice in all the good that we have. The remission
of one disease will enable nature to combat the rest. —
The squills 1 have not neglected ; for I have taken
more than a hundred drops a day, and one day took
two hundred and fifty, which, according to the popular
equivalent of a drop to a grain, is more than half an
ounce. — I thank you, dear Sir, for your attention in
ordering the medicines ; your attention to me has never
DR. JOHNSON. 435
failed. If the virtue of medicines could be enforced i784.
by the benevolence of the prescriber, how soon should ^^
Tbe well." 75. '
August 19. " The relaxation of the asthma still
continues, yet I do not trust it wholly to itself, but
soothe it now and then with an opiate. I not only
perform the perpetual act of respiration with less labour,
but I can walk with fewer intervals of rest, and with
greater freedom of motion. — I never thought well of
Dr. James's compounded medicines ; his ingredients
appear to me sometimes inefficacious and trifling, and
sometimes heterogeneous and destructive of each other.
This prescription exhibits a composition of about three
hundred and thirty grains, in which there are four
grains of emetick tartar, and six drops [of] thebaick
tincture. He that writes thus surely writes for show.
The basis of his medicine is the gum ammoniacum.
which dear Dr. Lawrence used to give, but of which
I never saw any effect. We will, if you please, let this
medicine alone. The squills have every suffrage, and
in the squills we will rest for the present."
August 21. "The kindness which you show by
having me in your thoughts upon all occasions, will, I
hope, always fill my heart with gratitude. Be pleased
to return my thanks to Sir George Baker, for the con-
sideration which he has bestowed upon me. — Is this
the balloon that has been so long expected, this bal-
loon to which I subscribed, but without payment ? it is
pity that philosophers have been disappointed, and
shame that they have been cheated ; but 1 know not
well how to prevent either. Of this experiment I have
read nothing ; where was it exhibited! and who was
the man that ran away with so much money ! — Con-
tinue, dear Sir, to write often and more at a time ; for
none of your prescriptions operate to their proper uses
more certainly than your letters operate as cordials."
August 26. " 1 suffered you to escape last post
without a letter, but you are not to expect such indul-
gence very often ; for I write not so much because I
have any thing to say, as because 1 hope for an answer^
and the vacancy of my life here makes a letter of
436 THE LIFE OP
1784. great value.— I have here little company and little
^jj^ amusement, and thus abandoned to the contemplation
75. of my own miseries, I am something gloomy and de-
pressed ; this too 1 resist as 1 can, and find opium, I
think, useful, but I seldom fake more than one grain. —
Is not this strange weather ? Winter absorbed the
spring, and now autumn is come before we have had
summer. But let not our kindness for each other imi-
tate the inconstancy of the seasons."
Sept. 2. " Mr. Windham has been here to see me ;
he came, 1 think, forty miles out of his way, and staid
about a day and a half, perhaps 1 make the time shorter
than it was. Such conversation I shall not have again
till [ come back to the regions of literature ; and there
Windham is, inter Stellas'^ Lima minores" He then
mentions the effects of certain medicines, as taken ;
that " Nature is recovering its original powers, and the
functions returning to their proper state. God contin-
ue his mercies, and grant me to use them rightly."
Sept. 9- " Do you know the Duke and Duchess of
Devonshire 1 And have you ever seen Chatsworth ? I
was at Chatsworth on Monday : 1 had seen it before,
but never when its owner was at home ; I was very
kindly received, and honestly pressed to stay ; but I
told them that a sick man is not a fit inmate of a great
house. But 1 hope to go again some time."
Sept. 11 . " I think nothing grows worse, but all rather
better, except sleep, and that of late has been at its old
pranks. Last evening, 1 felt what I had not known for
a long time, an inclination to walk for amusement ; I
took a short walk, and came back again neither breath-
less nor fatigued. — This has been a gloomy, frigid, un-
genial summer, but of late it seems to mend ; 1 hear
the heat sometimes mentioned, but 1 do not feel it ;
' Prceterea minimus gelido jam in corpore sanguis
* Febre calet sold!'
I hope, however, with good help, to find means of sup-
' It is remarkable that so good a Latin scholar as Johnson, should have been
«q inattentive to tlie metre, as by mistake to have written stellas instead of ignes.
DR. JOHNSON. 437
porting a winter at home, and to hear and tell at the 1784.
Club what is doing, and what ought to be doing in the^^
world. I have no company here, and shall naturally 75.
come home hungry for conversation. — To wish you,
dear Sir, more leisure, would not be kind ; but what
leisure you have, you must bestow upon me."
Sept. 16. "1 have now let you alone for along time,
having indeed little to say. You charge me somewhat
unjustly with luxury. At Chatsworth, you should re-
member, that 1 have eaten but once ; and the Dpctor,
with whom 1 live, follows a milk diet. 1 grow no fat-
ter, though my stomach, if it be not disturbed by phys-
ick, never fails me. — I now grow weary of solitude, and
think of removing next week to Lichfield, a place of
more society, but otherwise of less convenience. When
I am settled, 1 shall write again. — Of the hot weather
that you mentioned, we have [not] had in Derbyshire
very much, and for myself 1 seldom feel heat, and sup-
pose that my frigidity is the effect of my distemper ; a
supposition which naturally leads me to hope that a
hotter climate may be useful. But 1 hope to stand
another English winter.
Lichfield, Sept. 29- " On one day I had three letters
about the air balloon : yours was far the best, and has
enabled me to impart to my friends in the country an
idea of this species of amusement. In amusement,
mere amusement, 1 am afraid it must end, for 1 do not
find that its course can be directed so as that it should
serve any purposes of communication : and it can give
no new intelligence of the state of the air at different
heights, till they have ascended above the height of
mountains, which they seem never hkely to do. — I
came hither on the 27th. How long I shall stay, I
have not determined. My dropsy is gone, and my asth-
ma much remitted, but I have felt myself a little declin-
ing these two days, or at least to-day ; but such vicissi-
tudes must be expected. One day may be worse than
another ; but this last month is far better than the
former ; if the next should be as much better than this,
I shall run about the town on my own legs."
k
438 ' THE LIFE OF
1784. October 6. " The fate of the balloon I do not much
J2^ lament : to make new balloons, is to repeat the jest
75. ' again. We now know a method of mounting into the
air, and, I think, are not likely to know more. The ve-
hicles can serve no use till we can guide them ; and
they can gratify no curiosity till we mount with them
to greater heights than we can reach without ; till we
rise above the tops of the highest mountains, which we
have yet not done. We know the state of the air in all
its regions, to the top of Teneriffe, and therefore, learn
nothing from those who navigate a balloon below the
clouds. The first experiment, however, was bold, and
deserved applause and reward. But since it has beet^
performed, and its event is known, 1 had rather now
find a medicine that can ease an asthma."
October 2o. " You write to me with a zeal that an-
imates, and a tenderness that melts me. I am not
afraid either of a journey to London, or a residence in
it. 1 came down with little fatigue, and am now not
weaker. In the smoky atmosphere I was delivered
from the dropsy, which I consider as the original and
radical disease. The town is m^^^^iaa^l ;^ there are
my friends, there are my books, To which I have not yet
bid farewell, and there are my amusements. Sir .loshua
told me long ago, that my vocation was to publick life,
and 1 hope still to keep my station, till God shall bid
me Go in peace." *
To Mr. HooLE. Ashbourne, Aug. 7- " Since I
was here, I have two little letters from you, and have"
not had the gratitude to write. But every man is most
free with his best friends, because he does not suppose
that they can suspect him of intentional incivility. —
One reason for my omission is, that being in a place to
■ His love of London continually appears. In a letter from him to Mrs. Smart,
wife of his friend the Poet, which is published in a well-written life of him, pre-
fixed to an edition of his Poems, in 1791, there is the following sentence: "To
one that has passed so many years in the pleasures and opulence of London, there
are few places that can give much delight."
Once, upon reading that line in the curious epitaph quoted in " The Spectator."
" Born in New-England, did in London die :"
he laughed and said, " I do not wonder at this. It would have been strange, if
born in London, he had died in New-England."
DR. JOHNSON. 439
which you are wholly a stranger, I have no topicks of 1784.
correspondence. If you had any knowledge of Ash- ^J^
bourne, 1 could tell you of two Ashbourne men, who, 75.
being last week condemned at Derby to be hanged for
a robbery, went and hanged themselves in their cell.
But this, however it may supply us with talk, is noth- '
ing to you. — Your kindness, I know, would make you
glad to hear some good of me, but I have not much
good to tell ; if 1 grow not worse, it is all that I can
say. — { hope Mrs. Hoole receives more help from her
migration. Make her my compliments, and write again
to, dear Sir, your affectionate servant."
Aug. 13. "I thank you for your affectionate letter.
I hope we shall both be the better for each other's friend-
ship, and I hope we shall not very quickly be parted. — Tell
Mr. Nichols that I shall be glad of his correspondence,
when his business allows him a little remission ; though
to wish him less business, that I may have more pleas-
ure, would be too selfish. — To pay for seats at the bal-
loon is not very necessary, because in less than a min-
ute, they who gaze at a mile's distance will see all that
can be seen. About the wings I am of your mind ;
they cannot at all assist it, nor I think regulate its mo-
tion.— I am now grown somewhat easier in my body,
but my mind is some times depressed. — About the Club
I am in no great pain. The forfeitures go on, and the
house, 1 hear, is improved for our future meetings. I
hope we shall meet often and sit long."
Sept. 4. " Your letter was, indeed, long in coming,
but it was very welcome. Our acquaintance has now
subsisted long, and our recollection of each other in-
volves a great space, and many little occurrences, which
melt the thoughts to tenderness. — Write to me, there-
fore, as frequently as you can. — I hear from Dr. Brock-
lesby and Mr. Ryland, that the Club is not crouded. I
hope we shall enliven it when winter brings us together.'^
To Dr. Burney. August 2. " The weather, you
know, has not been balmy ; I am now reduced to think,
and am at last content to talk of the weather. Pride
44^0 THE LIFE OF
1784. must have a fall.* — I have lost dear Mr. Allen ; and
^ry wherever 1 turn, the dead or the dying meet m/ notice,
75 * and force my attention upon misery and mortality. Mrs.
Burney's escape from so much clanger, and her ease
after so much pain, throws, however, some radiance of
hope upon the gloomy prospect. May her recovery be
perfect, and her continuance long. — [struggle hard for
life. 1 take physick, and take air ; my friend's chariot
is always ready. — We have run this morning twenty-
four miles, and could run forty-eight more. Buf x<oho
can run the race with death /"
Sept. 4. [Concerning a private transaction, in which
his opinion was asked, and after giving it, he makes the
following reflections, which are applicable on other oc-
casions.] " Nothing deserves more compassion than,,
wrong conduct with good meaning ; than loss or oblo-
quy suffered by one, who, as he is conscious only of
good intentions, wonders why he loses that kindness
which he wishes to preserve ; and not knowing his own
fault, if, as may sometimes happen, nobody will tell him,
goes on to offend by his endeavours to please. — 1 am
delighted by finding that our opinions are the same. —
You will do me a real kindness by continuing to write.
A post-day has now been long a day of recreation."
Nov. 1. " Our correspondence paused for want of
topicks. 1 had said what I had to say on the matter
proposed to my consideration ; and nothing remained
but to tell you, that I waked or slept ; that 1 was more
or less sick. 1 drew my thoughts in upon myself, and
supposed yours employed upon your book. — That your
book has been delayed 1 am glad, since you have
gained an opportunity of being more exact. — Of the
caution necessary in adjusting narratives there is no end.
Some tell what they do not know, that they may not
^ There was no information for which Dr. Johnson was less grateful than for
that which concerned the weather. It was in allusion to his impatience witii
those who were reduced to keep conversation alive by observations on the weather,
that he applied the old proverb to himself. If any one of his intimate acquaint-
ance told him it was hot or cold, wet or dry, windy or calm, he would stop ihem„
baying, " Poll ! poh ! you are telling us that of which none but men in a mine or
a dungeon can be ignorant. Let us bear with patience, or enjoy in quiet, ele-
mentary changes, whether for the better or the worse, as they are never se-
crets." R.
DR. JOHNSON. 441
seem ignorant, and others from mere indifference about 1784.
truth. All truth is not, indeed, of equal importance ; ^^
but, if little violations are allowed, every violation will 75.*
in time be thought little ; and a writer should keep
himself vigilantly on his guard against the first tempta-
tions to negligence or supineness. — 1 had ceased to
write, because respecting you 1 had no more to say, and
respecting myself could say little good. 1 cannot boast
of advancement, and in case of convalescence it may
be said, with few exceptions, non pt^ogredi, est regredi.
I hope 1 may be excepted. — My great difficulty was
with my sweet Fanny, ^ who, by her artifice of inserting
her letter in yours, had given me a precept of frugality
which 1 was not at liberty to neglect ; and 1 know not
who were in town under whose cover 1 could send my
letter. 1 rejoice to hear that you are so well, and have
a delight particularly sympathetick in the recovery of
Mrs. Burney."
To Mr. Laington. Aug. 2v5. " The kindness of
your last letter, and my omission to answer it, begins
to give you, even in my opinion, a right to recriminate,
and to charge me with forgetfulness for the absent. I
will, therefore, delay no longer to give an account of
myself, and wish 1 could relate what would please
either myself or my friend. — On July 13, I left Lon-
don, partly in hope of help from new air and change of
place, and partly excited by the sick man's impatience
of the present. I got to Lichfield in a stage vehicle,
with very little fatigue, in two days, and had the con-
solation' to find, that since my last visit my three old
acquaintance are all dead. — July 20, I went to Ash-
bourne, where I have been till now ; the house in
which we live is repairing. I live in too much soli-
tude, and am often deeply dejected : I wish we were
nearer, and rejoice in your removal to Lo«jdon. A
, ' The celebrated Miss Fanny Burney. ^
' [Probably some word has been here omitted before consolation ; perhaps sad,
ar miserable ; or the word consolation, has been printed by mistake, instead of mor-
tification : — but the original letter not being now [17981 in Mr. Langton's hands,
the errour (if it be one) cannot be corrected. M.]
TOL. IIT. 56
442 THE LIFE OF
1784. friend, at once cheerful and serious, is a great acquisi-
^J^ tion. Let us not neglect one another for the little
75. time which Providence allows us to hope. — Of my
health I cannot tell you, what my wishes persuaded
me to expect, that it is much improved by the season
or by remedies. I am sleepless ; my legs grow weary
with a very few steps, and the water breaks its bounda-
ries in some degree. The asthma, however, has remit-
ted ; my breath is still much obstructed, but is more
free than it was. Nights of watchfulness produce
torpid days ; I read very little, though 1 am alone ; for
I am tempted to supply in the day what ! lost in bed.
This is my history ; like all other histories, a narrative
of misery. Yet I am so much better than in the be-
ginning of the year, that I ought to be ashamed of com-
plaining. 1 now sit and write with very little sensibil-
ity of pain or weakness ; but when I rise, 1 shall find
my legs betraying me. Of the money which you
mentioned, I have no immediate need, keep it, how-
ever for me, unless some exigence requires it. Your
papers I will shew you certainly, when you would see
them ; but I am a little angry at you for not keeping
minutes of your own acceptum et expensum^ and think
a little time might be spared from Aristophanes, for the
res familiar es. Forgive me, for 1 mean well. 1 hope,
dear Sir, that you and Lady Rothes, and all the young
people, too many to enumerate, are well and happy.
God bless you all."
To Mr. AVindham. August. " The tenderness
with which you have been pleased to treat me, through
my long illness, neither health nor sickness can, 1 hope,
make me forget ; and you are not to suppose, that
after we parted you were no longer in my mind. But
what can a sick man say, but that he is sick ? His
thoughts are necessarily concentered in himself : he
neither receives nor can give delight ; his enquiries are
after allieviations of pain, and his efforts are to catch
some momentary comfort. — Though I am now in the
neigh l:)ourhood of the Peak, you must expect no ac-
count of its wonders, of its hills, its waters, its caverns.
DR. JOHNSOX. 443
or its mines ; but I will tell you, dear Sir, what I hope 1784.
you will not hear with less satisfaction, that, for about ^^
a week past, my asthma has been less afflictive." 75. *
Lichfield, October 2. " I believe you had been long
enough acquainted with the phcenomena of sickness,
not to be surprised that a sick man wishes to be where
he is not, and where it appears to every body but him-
self that he might easily be, without having the resolu-
tion to remove. I thought Ashbourne a solitary place,
but did not come hither till last Monday. — 1 have here
more company, but my health has for this last week
not advanced ; and in the languor of disease how little
can be done \ Whither or when I shall make my next
remove, I cannot tell ; but 1 entreat you, dear Sir, to
let me know from time to time, where you may be
found, for your residence is a very powerful attractive
to, Sir, your most humble servant."
" TO MR. PERKINS.
" DEAR SIR,
" I CANNOT but flatter myself that your kindness
for me will make you glad to know where I am, and in
what state.
" 1 have been struggling very hard with my diseases.
My breath has been very much obstructed, and the
water has attempted to encroach upon me again. I
past the first part of the summer at Oxford, afterwards
I went to Lichfield, thence to Ashbourne, in Derby-
shire, and a week ago 1 returned to Lichfield.
" My breath is now much easier, and the water is in
a great measure run away, so that I hope to see you
again before winter.
" Please make my compliments to Mrs. Perkins, and
to Mr. and Mrs. Barclay. I am, dear Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" LicJifield, Oct. 4, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
444
THE LIFE OF
^784. tc ^Q ^jjj, jjjQjj^ jjQjj WILLIAM GERARD HAMILTON.
y^ " DEAR SIR,
" Considering what reason you gave me in the
spring to conclude that you took part in whatever good
or evil might befall me, 1 ought not to have omitted so
long the account which I am now about to give you. —
My diseases are an asthma and a dropsy, and, what is
less curable, seventy-five. Of the dropsy, in the be-
ginning of the summer, or in the spring, 1 recovered to
a degree which struck with wonder both me and my
physicians : the asthma now is likewise, for a time,
very much relieved. 1 went to Oxford, where the
asthma was very tyrannical, and the dropsy began again
to threaten me ; but seasonable physick stopped the
inundation : 1 then returned to London, and in July
took a resolution to visit Staffordshire and Derbyshire,
where I am yet struggling with my disease. The
dropsy made another attack, and was not easily ejected,
but at last gave way. The asthma suddenly remitted
in bed, on the 13th of August, and, though now very
oppressive, is, 1 think, still something gentler than it
was before the remission. My limbs are miserably
debilitated, and my nights are sleepless and tedious. —
AVhen you read this, dear Sir, you are not sorry that I
wrote no sooner. 1 will not prolong my complaints.
I hope still to see you hi a huppier hour^ to talk over
what we have often talked, and perhaps to find new
topicks of merriment, or new incitements to curiosity.
" 1 am, dear Sir, &c.
" Lichfield, Oct. 20, 1784. ^' Sam. Johnson."
" TO JOHN paradise, ESQ.*
" DEAR SIR,
" Though in all my summer's excursion 1 have
given you no account of myself, I hope you think
^ Son of the late Peter Paradise, Esq. his Britannick Majesty's Consul at Salonica,
in Macedonia, by his lady, a native of that country. He studied at Oxford, and
has been honoured by that University with the degree of LL. D. He is distin-
guished not only by lus learning and talents, but by an amiable disposition, gei\-
DR. JOHNSON. 445
better of me than to imagine it possible for me to forget ^784.
you, whose kindness to me has been too great and too ^^
constant not to have made its impression on a harder 75.
breast than mine. — Silence is not very culpable, when
nothing pleasing is suppressed. It would have allevi-
ated none of your complaints to have read my vicissi-
tudes of evil. 1 have struggled hard with very formi-
dable and obstinate maladies; and though I cannot talk
of health, think all praise due to my Creator and Pre-
server for the continuance of my life. The dropsy has
made two attacks, and has given way to medicine ; the
asthma is very oppressive, but that has likewise once
remitted. I am very weak, and very sleepless ; but it
is time to conclude the tale of misery. — I hope, dear
Sir, that you grow hetter, for you have likewise your
share of human evil, and that your lady and the young
charmers are well.
" I am, dear Sir, &c.
'' Lic/i^eld, Oct. 27, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO MR. GEORGE NICOL.^
" DEAR SIR,
"Since we parted, I have been much oppressed
by my asthma, but it has lately been less laborious.
When 1 sit 1 am almost at ease, and I can walk, though
yet very little, with less difficulty for this week past,
than before. I hope I shall again enjoy my friends, and
that you and I shall have a little more literary conversa-
tion.— Where I now am, every thing is very liberally
provided for me but conversation. My friend is sick
himself, and the reciprocation of complaints and groans
afford not much of either pleasure or instruction. What
we have not at home this town does not supply, and I
shall be glad of a little imported intelligence, and hope
tleness of manners, and a very general acquaintance with well informed and accom-
plished persons of almost all nations.
(Mr. Paradise died, December 12, 1795. M.]
' 3ookseller to his Majesty,
446
THE LIFE OF
1784. that you will bestow, now and then, a little time on
]JJ^the relief and entertainment of, Sir,
75.' " Yours, &c.
" Ashbourne, Aug. 19, 17S4. " Sam. Johnson."
" TO MR. CRUIKSHANK.
" DEAR SIR,
" Do not suppose that I forget you ; I hope I shall
never be accused of forgetting my benefactors. I had,
till lately, nothing to write but complaints upon com-
plaints, of miseries upon miseries; but within this fort-
night I have received great relief. — Have your Lecturers
any vacation ? If you are released from the necessity of
daily study, you may find time for a letter to me. — [In
this letter he states the particulars of his case.] — In re-
turn for this account of my health let me have a good
account of yours, and of your prosperity in all your un-
dertakings.
" 1 am, dear Sir, yours, &c.
" Ashbourne, Sept. 4, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
To Mr. Thomas Davies. August 14. — " The ten-
derness with which you always treat me, makes me
culpable in my own eyes for having omitted to write in
so long a separation ; 1 had, indeed, nothing to say that
you could wish to hear. All has been hitherto misery
accumulated upon misery, disease corroborating disease,
till yesterday my asthma was perceptibly and unexpect-
edly mitigated. 1 am much comforted with this short
relief, and am willing to flatter myself that it may con-
tinue and improve. 1 have at present, such a degree of
ease, as not only may admit the comforts, but the duties
of life. Make my compliments to Mrs. Davies. — Poor
dear Allen, he was a good man."
To Sir Joshua Reynolds. Ashbourne, July 21.
" The tenderness with which 1 am treated by my friends,
make it reasonable to suppose that they are desirous to
know the state of my health, and a desire so benevolent
ought to be gratified. — I came to Lichfield in two days
\
DR. JOHNSON. 447
Without any painful fatigue, and on Monday came hith- 1784.
er, where i purpose to stay and try what air and regu- ^J^,
iarity will effect. I cannot yet persuade myself that I 75.*
have made much progress in recovery. My sleep is
little, my breath is very much encumbered, and my
legs are verv weak. The water has increased a little,
but has again run off. The most distressing symptom
is want of sleep."
August 19. " Having had since our separation, little
to say that could please you or myself by saying, 1 have
not been lavish of useless letters ; but I flatter myself
that you will partake of the pleasure with which 1 can
now tell you that about a week ago, 1 felt suddenly a
sensible remission of my asthma, and consequently a
greater lightness of action and motion. — Of this grate-
ful alleviation I know not the cause, nor dare depend
upon its continuance, but while it lasts I endeavour to
enjoy it, and am desirous of communicating, while it
lasts, my pleasure to my friends. — Hitherto, dear Sir, I
had written before the post, which stays in this town
but a little while, brought me your letter. Mr. Davies
seems to have represented my little tendency to recov-
ery in terms too splendid. I am still restless, still weak,
still watery, but the asthma is less oppressive. — Poor
Ramsay !* On which side soever 1 turn, mortality pre-
sents its formidable frown. I left three old friends at
Lichfield, when I was last there, and now found them
all dead. I no sooner lost sight of dear Allan, than I
am told that I shall see him no more. That we must
all die, we always knew ; 1 wish 1 had sooner remem-
bered it. Do not think me intrusive or importunate, if
I now call, dear Sir, on you to remember it."
Sept. 2. " I am glad that a little favour from the
court has intercepted your furious purposes. I could
not in any case have approved such publick violence of
resentment, and should have considered any who en^
couraged it, as rather seeking sport for themselves, than
honour for you. Resentment gratifies him who intend-
ed an injury, and pains him unjustly who did not in-
•• Allan Ramsay, Esq. painler to his Majesty, who died August 10, 1784, in the
71st year of his age, much rej;retted by his friends.
44S THE LIFE OF
1784. tend it. But all this is now superfluous. — I still con-
^t^ tinue by God's mercy to mend. My breath is easier,
75. my nights are quieter, and my legs are less in bulk, and
stronger in use. 1 have, however, yet a great deal to
overcome, before I can yet attain even an old man's
health. — Write, do write to me now and then; we are
now old acquaintance, and perhaps few people have
lived so much and so long together, with less cause of
complaint on either side. The retrospection of this is
very pleasant, and 1 hope we shall never think on each
other with less kindness."
Sept. 9. " 1 could not answer your letter before this
day, because I went on the sixth to Chatsworth, and
did not come back till the post was gone. — Many words,
I hope, are not necessary between you and me, to
convince you what gratitude is excited in my heart, by
the Chancellor's liberality and your kind offices. 1 did
not indeed expect that what was asked by the Chan-
cellor would have been refused, but since it has, we
will not tell that any thing has been asked. — 1 have
enclosed a letter to the Chancellor, which, when you
have read it, you will be pleased to seal with a head,
or other general seal, and convey it to him ; had I sent
it directly to him, 1 should have seemed to overlook
the favour of your intervention. — My last letter told
you of my advance in health, which, I think, in the
whole still continues. Of the hydropick tumour there
is now very little appearance ; the asthma is much less
troublesome, and seems to remit something day after
day. 1 do not despair of supporting an English winter.
— At Chatsworth, 1 met young Mr. Burke, who led
me very commodiously into conversation with the
Duke and Duchess. We had a very good morning.
The dinner was publick."
Sept. IS. "1 flattered myself that this week would
have given me a letter from you, but none has come.
Write to me now and then, but direct your next to
Lichfield. — 1 think, and 1 hope am sure, that I still
grow better ; 1 have sometimes good nights ; but am
still in my legs weak, but so much mended, that I go
to Lichfield in hope of being able to pay my visits on
DR. JOHNSON. 449
foot, for there are no coaches. — I have three letters this ^^4.
day, all about the balloon, I could have been content ^^'^
with one. Do not write about the balloon, whatever 75.
else you may think proper to say."
October 2. "1 am always proud of your approba-
tion, and therefore was much pleased that you liked
my letter. When you copied it, you invaded the
Chancellor's risfht rather than mine. — The refusal I did
not expect, but I had never thought much about it,
for 1 doubted whether the Chancellor had so much
tenderness for me as to ask. He, being keeper of the
King's conscience, ought not to be supposed capable
of an improper petition. — All is not gold that glitters,
as we have often been told ; and the adage is verified
in your place and my favour; but if what happens does
not make us richer, we must bid it welcome, if it makes
us wiser. — 1 do not at present grow better, nor much
worse ; my hopes, however, are somewhat abated, and
a very great loss is the loss of hopp, but 1 struggle on
as 1 can."
To Mr. John Nichols. Lichfield, Oct. ^0.
" When you were here, you were pleased, as I am told,
to think my absence an inconvenience, i should cer-
tainly have been very glad to give so skilful a lover of
antiquities any information about my native place, of
which, however, 1 know not much, and have reason to
believe that not much is known. — Though 1 have not
given you any amusement, I have received amusement
from you. At Ashbourne, where 1 had very little
company, I had the luck to borrow 'Mr. Bowyer's
Life;' a book so full of contemporary history, that a
literary man must find some of his old friends. I
thought that I could, now and then, have told you
some hints worth your notice ; and perhaps we may
talk a life over. 1 hope we shall be much together;
you must now be to me what you were before, and
what dear Mr. Allen was, besides. He was taken
unexpectedly away, but 1 think he was a very good,
man. — 1 have made little progress in recovery. I am
very weak, and very sleepless : but 1 live on and hope."
VOL. ITT. .57
450 THE LIFE OF
1784. This various mass of correspondence, which I have
^g^ thus brought together, is valuable, both as an addition
75. to the store which the publick already has of Johnson's
writings, and as exhibiting a genuine and noble speci-
men of vigour and vivacity of mind, which neither age
nor sickness could impair or diminish.
It may be observed, that his writings in every way,
whether for the publick, or privately to his friends, was
by fits and starts; for we see frequently, that many
letters are written on the same day. When he had
once overcome his aversion to begin, he was, I suppose,
desirous to go on, in order to relieve his mind from the
uneasy reflection of delaying what he ought to do.
While in the country, notwithstanding the accumu-
lation of illness which he endured, his mind did not
lose its powers. He translated an Ode of Horace,
which is printed in his works, and composed several
prayers. I shall insert one of them, which is so wise
and energetick, so philosophical and so pious, that I
doubt not of its afFordins: consolation to manv a sincere
Christian, when in a state of mind to which 1 believe
the best are sometimes liable.^
And here I am enabled fully to refute a very unjust
reflection, by Sir John Hawkins, both against Dr. John-
son, and his faithful servant, Mr. Francis Barber ; as if
both of them had been guilty of culpable neglect to-
wards a person of the name of Heely, whom Sir John
chooses to call a relation of Dr. Johnson's. The fact
is, that Mr. Heely was not his relation ; he had indeed
been married to one of his cousins, but she had died
without having children, and he had married another
'• Against inquisitive and perplexing thoughts. " O Lord, my Maker and Protector,
who hast graciously sent me into this world to work out my salvation, enable me
to drive from me all such unquiet and perplexing thoughts as may mislead or hin-
der nie in tiie practice of those duties which Thou hast required. When I behold
the works of thy hands, and consider the course of thy providence, give me grace
always to remember that thy thoughts are not my thoughts, nor thy ways my
ways. And while it shall please thee to continue me in this world, where much
is to be done, and little to be known, teach me by thy Holy Spirit, to withdraw
my mind from unprofitable and dangerous enquiries, from difficulties vainly curi-
ous, and doubts impossible to be solved. Let me rejoice in the light which Thou
hast imparted, let me serve Thee with active zeal and humble confidence, and
wait with patient expectation for the time in which the soul which Thou receiv-
est shall be satisfied with knowledge. Grant this, O Lord, for Jesus Christ's
sake. Amen."
DR. JOHNSON. 4Jl
woman ; so that even the slight connection which there ^ 784.
once had been by ai/iance was dissolved. Dr. Johnson, JJ^
wlio had shewn very great liberality to this man while his 75.
first w^ite was alive, as has appeared in a former part of
this work,'' was humane and charitable enough to con-
tinue his bounty to him occasionally ; but surely there
was no strong call of duty upon him or upon his legatee,
to do more. The following letter, obligingly commu-
nicated to me by Mr. Andrew Strahan, will confirm
what i have stated :
" TO MR. HEELY, NO. 6, IN PYE-STREET, WEST-
MINSTER.
" SIR,
" As necessity obliges you to call so soon again
upon me, you should at least have told the smallest
sum that will supply your present want ; you cannot
suppose that I have much to spare. Two guineas is as
much as you ought to be behind with your creditor. —
If you wait on Mr. Strahan, in New-street, Fetter-lane,
or in his absence, on Mr. Andrew Strahan, show this,
by which they are entreated to advance you two guin-
eas, and to keep this as a voucher.
" 1 am, Sir,
" Your humble servant,
''Ashbourne, Aug. 12, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
Indeed it is very necessary to keep in mind that Sir
John Hawkins has unaccountably viewed Johnson's
character and conduct in almost every particular, with
an unhappy prejudice.^
« Vol.!. p. 414.
» 1 shall add one instance only to those which I have thought it incumbent on
me to point out. Talking of Mr. Garrick's having signified his wiUingness to let
Johnson have the loan of any of his books to assist him in his edition of Shak-
speare ; Sir John says, (page 444,) " Mr. Garrick knew not what risque he ran by
this offer. Johnson had so strange a forgetfulness of obligations of this sort, that few
who lent him books ever saw them again." This surely conveys a most unfa-
vourable insinuation, and has been so understood. Sir John mentions the single
case of a curious edition of PoHtian, which he tells us, " appeared to belong to
Pembroke CoOege, which, probably, had been considered by Johnson as his own,
for upwards of fifty years." Would it not be fairer to consider this as an inad-
452 THE LIFE OF
1784. W^e now behold Johnson for the last time, in his
^'^ native city, for which he ever retained a warm affec-
75. ' tion, and which, by a sudden apostrophe, under the
word Lich, he introduces with reverence, into his im-
mortal Work, The English Dictionary : — ' Saive,
magna parens /"^ While here, he felt a revival of all
the tenderness of filial affection, an instance of which
appeared in his ordering the grave-stone and inscrip-
tion over Elizabeth Blaney to be substantially and
carefully renewed.
To Mr. Henry White, a young clergyman, with
whom he now formed an intimacy, so as to talk to him
with great freedom, he mentioned that he could not in
general accuse himself of having been an undutiful son.
" Once, indeed, (said he,) 1 was disobedient ; I refused
to attend my father to Uttoxeter-market. Pride was
the source of that refusal, and the remembrance of it
vertence, and draw no general inference ? the truth Is, that Johnson vras so atten-
tive, that in one of his manuscripts in my possession, he has marked in two columns,
books borrowed, and books lent.
In Sir John Hawkins's compilation, there are, however, some passages concern-
ing Johnson which have unquestionable merit. One of them I shall transcribe,
in justice to a writer whom I have had too much occasion to censure, and to shew
my fairness as the biographer of my illustrious friend : " There was wanting in
his conduct and behaviour, that dignity which results from a regular and or-
derly course of action, and by an irresistible power commands esteem. He could
not be said to be a stayed man, nor so to have adjusted in his mind the balance
of reason and passion, as to give occasion to say what may be observed of some
men, that all they do is just, fit, and right." Yet a judicious friend well suggests,
" It might, however, have been added, that such men are often merely just, and
rigidly correct, while their hearts are cold and unfeeling ; and that Johnson's vir-
tues were of a much higher tone than those of the stayed, orderly man, here de-
scribed."
" The following circumstance, mutually to the honour of Johnson and the cor-
poration of his native city, has been communicated to me by the Reverend Dr. Vyse,
from the Town-Clerk : " Mr. Simpson has now before him, a record of the re-
spect and veneration which the Corporation of Lichfield, in the year 1767, had for
the merits and learning of Dr. Johnson. His father built the corner house in the
Market-place, the two fronts of which, towards Market and Broad-market-street,
stood upon waste land of the Corporation, under a forty years' lease, which was
then expired. On the 1 5th of August, 17G7, at a common-hall of the bailiffs and
citizens, it was ordered (and that without any sohcitation,) that a lease should
be granted to Samuel Johnson, Doctor of Laws, of the encroachments at his house,
for the term of ninety-nine years, at the old rent, which was five shillings. Of
which, as Town-Clerk, Mr. Simpson had the honour and pleasure of informing
him, and that he was desired to accept it, without paying any fine on the occa-
sion, which lease was afterwards granted, and the Doctor died possessed of this
property."
♦ See Vol. I. p. 35.
DR. JOHNSON.
A53
was painful. A few years ago I desired to atone for i784.
this fault, 1 went to Uttoxeter in very bad weather, and ^J^
stood for a considerable time bareheaded in the rain, 75.
on the spot where my father's stall used to stand. In
contrition 1 stood, and 1 hope the penance was ex-
piatory."
" 1 told him (says Miss Seward) in one of my latest
visits to him, of a wonderful learned pig, which 1 had
seen at Nottingham ; and which did all that we have
observed exhibited by dogs and horses. The subject
amused him. ' Then, (said he,) the pigs are a race un-
justly calumniated. Pig has, it seems, not been want-
ing to mem, but mem to pig. We do not allow time for
his education, we kill him at a year old.^ Mr. Henry
White, who was present, observed that if this instance
had happened in or before Pope's time, he would not
have been justified in instancing the swine as the lowest
degree of groveling instinct. Dr. Johnson seemed
pleased with the observation, while the person who
made it proceeded to remark, that great torture must
have been employed, ere the indocility of the animal
could have been subdued. — ' Certainly, (said the Doc-
tor ;) but, (turning to me,) how old is your pig^' I
told him, three years old. ' Then, (said he,) the pig
has no cause to complain ; he would have been killed
the first year if he had not been educated, and protract-
ed existence is a good recom pence for very considerable
degrees of torture."
As Johnson had now very faint hopes of recovery,
and as Mrs. Thrale was no longer devoted to him, it
might have been supposed that he would naturally
have chosen to remain in the comfortable house of his
beloved wife's daughter, and end his life where he
began it. But there was in him an animated and lofty
spirit, 5 and however complicated diseases might de-
press ordinary mortals, all who saw him beheld and
' Mr. Burke suggested to me as applicable to Johnson, what Cicero in his Cato
Major, says of Appius : " Ititentum enim animum tanquam arcum hahebat, nee languescens
tnccumbebat senectuti ;" repeating, at the same time, the following noble words in
the same passage : " Ita enim senectus bonesta est li se ipsa defendit, si jus suum retinet,
lijiimini tmancipata est, si usgitt ad extremum •vita spiritum I'indicemjus luutn,"
451 THE LIFE OF
1784. acknowledged the invictum auimum Caionis.' Such
^tat^ vvas his intellfctual ardour even at this time, that he
75, said to one friend, " Sir, 1 look upon every day to be
lost, in which 1 do not make a new acquaintance ;" and
to another, when talking of his illness, " 1 will be con-
quered ; 1 will not capitulate." And such was his
love of London, so high a relish had he of its magnifi-
cent extent, and variety of intellectual entertainment,
that he languished when absent from it, his mind hav-
ing become Cjuite luxurious from the long habit of en-
joying the metropolis ; and, therefore, although at
Lichfield, surrounded with friends who loved and
revered him, and for whom he had a very sincere affec-
tion, he still found, that such conversation as London
affords, could be found no where else. These feel-
ings, joined, probably, to some flattering hopes of aid
from the eminent physicians and surgeons in London,
who kindly and generously attended him without ac-
cepting fees, made him resolve to return to the capital.
From Lichfield he came to Birmingham, where he
passed a few days with his worthy old schoolfellow, Mr.
Hector, who thus writes to me : " He^was very solicit-
ous with me to recollect some of our most early trans-
actions, and transmit them to him, for 1 perceived noth-
ing gave him greater pleasure than calling to mind those
days of our innocence. I complied with his request,
and he only received them a few days before his death.
I have transcribed for your inspection, exactly the min-
utes I wrote to him.'^ This paper having been found
in his repositories after his death, Sir John Hawkins has
inserted it entire, and 1 have made occasional use of it
and other communications from Mr. Hector,* in the
■ [Atrocem animum Catonis, are Horace's words, and it may be doubted whether
etrox is used by any other original writer in the same sense. Stubborn is perhaps
the most correct translation of this epithet. M.]
^ It is a most agreeable circumstance attending the publication of this Work,
that Mr. Hector has survived his illustrious school-fellow so many years ; that he
•till retains his health and spirits ; and has gratified me with the following ac-
knowledgement : " I thank you, most sincerely thank you, for the great and long
continued entertainment your I-ife of Dr. Johnson has afforded me, and others, of
my particular friends." Mr. Hector, besides setting me right as to the verse on a
sprig of Myrtle, (see Vol. I. p. 76, note,) has favoured me with two English odes,
DR. JOHNSON. 453
course of this Work. I have both visited and corres- •784.
ponded with him since Dr. Johnson's death, and by my ^J^
enquiries concerning a great variety of particulars have 75.
obtained additional information. 1 followed the same
mode with the Reverend Dr. Taylor, in whose presence
I wrote down a good deal of what he could tell ; and
he, at my request, signed his name, to give it authenti-
city. It is very rare to find any person who is able to
give a distinct account of the life even of one whom he
has known intimately, without questions being put to
them. My friend Dr. Kippis, has told me, that on
this account it is a practice with him to draw out a bi-
ographical catechism.
Johnson then proceeded to Oxford, where he was
again kindly received by Dr. Adams,^ who was pleased
to give me the following account in one of his letters,
svritten by Dr. Johnson, at an early period of his life, which will appear in my
edition of his Poems.
[This early and worthy friend of Johnson died at Birmingham, September 2,
1794. M.]
3 [This amiable and excellent man survived Dr. Johnson about four years, hav-
ing died in January 1 789, at Gloucester, where a Monument is erected to his
Memory, with the following Inscription : —
Sacred to the Memory of
William Adams, D. D.
Master of Pembroke College, Oxford,
Prebendary of this Cathedral, and
Archdeacon of LandafF.
Ingenious, Learned, Eloquent,
He ably defended the Truth of Christianity ;
Pious, Benevolent, and Charitable,
He successfully inculcated its sacred Precepts.
Pure, and undeviating in his own Conduct,
He was tender and compassionate to the Failings of others.
Ever anxious for the welfare and happiness of Mankind,
He was on all occasions forward to encourage
Works of publick UtiHty, and extensive Beneficence.
In the Government of the College over which he presided,
His vigilant Attention was uniformly exerted
To promote the important Objects of the institution ;
Whilst the mild Dignity of his Deportment,
His gentleness of Disposition, and urbanity of Manners,
Inspired Esteem, Gratitude, and Affection.
Full of Days, and matured in Virtue,
He died Jan. 13th, 1789, aged 82.
A very just character of Dr. Adams may also be found in " The Gentleman's
Magazine," for 1789, Vol. LIX. p. 214. His only daughter (see p. 315,) was
married, in July 1788, to B. Hyatt of Pains^vick in Gloucestershire, Esq. M.]
4j6 the life of
1784. (Feb. 17th, 1785:) " His last visit was, I believe, to
2J^ my house, which he left, after a stay of four or five
75. days. We had much serious talk together, for which I
ought to be the better as long as i live. You will re-
member some discourse which we had in the summer
upon the subject of prayer, and the difficulty of this
sort of composition. He reminded me of this, and of
my having wished him to try his hand, and to give us
a specimen of the style and manner that he approved.
He added, that he was now in a right frame of mind,
and as he could not possibly employ his time better, he
would in earnest set about it. But 1 find upon en-
quiry, that no papers of this sort were left behind him,
except a few short ejaculatory forms suitable to his
present situation."
Dr. Adams had not then received accurate informa-
tion on this subject ; for it has since appeared that
various prayers had been composed by him at diflfer-
cnt periods, vfhich intermingled with pious resolutions,
and some short notes of his life, were entitled by him
" Prayers and Meditations," and have, in pursuance
of his earnest requisition, in the hopes of doing good,
been published, with a judicious well written Preface,
by the Reverend Mr. Strahan, to whom he delivered
them. This admirable collection, to which I have
frequently referred in the course of this Work, evinces,
beyond all his compositions for the publick, and all the
eulogies of his friends and admirers, the sincere virtue
and piety of Johnson, it proves with unquestionable
authenticity, that amidst all his constitutional infirmities,
his earnestness to conform his practice to the precepts
of Christianity was unceasing, and that he habitually
endeavoured to refer every transaction of his life to the
will of the Supreme Being.
He arrived in London on the l6th of November,
and next day sent to Dr. Burney the following note,
which 1 insert as the last token of his remembrance
of that ingenious and amiable man, and as another of
the many proofs of the tenderness and benignity of
his heart :
DR. JOHNSON. 45/
*' Mr. Johnson, who came home last nighty sends '784.
his respects to dear Dr. Burney, and all the dear Bur- ^^.^
neys, little and great." 75.
" TO MR. HECTOR, IN BIRMINGHAlVl.
^' DEAR SIR,
" 1 DID not reach Oxford until Friday morning,
and then I sent Francis to see the balloon fly, but
could not go myself. I staid at Oxford till Tuesday,
and then came in the common vehicle easily to Lon-^
dun. I am as I was, and having seen Dr. Brocklesby,
am to ply the squills ; but, whatever be their efficacy,
this world must soon pass away. Let us think serious-
ly on our duty. — I send my kindest respects to dear
Mrs. Careless: let me have the prayers of both. We
have all lived long, and must soon part. God have
mercy on us, for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen. " I am, &c.
*' London, Nov. 17, 1784. " Sam. Johnson.^*
His correspondence with me, after his letter on the
subject of ray settling in London, shall now, so far as
is proper, be produced in one series.
July 26, he wrote to me from Ashbourne : " On
the 1 4th I came to Lichfield, and found every body
glad enough to see me. On the 20th, I came hither*
and found a house half-built, of very uncomfortable
appearance ; but my own room has not been altered.
That a man worn with diseases, in his seventy-second
or third year, should condemn part of his remaining
life to pass among ruins and rubbish, and that no in-
considerable part, appears to me very strange. — I know
that your kindness makes you, impatient to know the
state of my health, in which 1 cannot boast of much
improvement. I came through the journey without
much inconvenience, but when 1 attempt self-qiotion
1 find my legs weak, and my breath very short ; this
day I have been much disordered. I have no com-
pany ; the Doctor* is busy in his fields, and goes to
•♦ The Rev. Dr. Taylor.
VOL. Ill, /)8
4JS THE LIFE OF
1784 bed at nine, and his whole system is so different from
^^^ mine, that we seem formed for different elements ; I have,
75. therefore, all my amusement to seek within myself."
Having written to him in bad spirits, a letter filled
with dejection and fretfulness, and at the same time
expressing anxious apprehensions concerning him, on
account of a dream which had disturbed me ; his an-
swer Avas chiefly in terms of reproach, for a supposed
charge of " affecting discontent, and indulging the
vanity of complaint." It, however, proceeded, " Write
to me often, and write like a man. I consider your
fidelity and tenderness as a great part of the comforts
which are yet left me, and sincerely wish we could be
nearer to each other. — * ****** *. — My dear
friend, life is very short and very uncertain ; let us
spend it as well as we can. My worthy neighbour,
Allen, is dead. Love me as well as you can. Pay
my respects to dear Mrs. Boswell. — Nothing ailed me
at that time ; let your superstition at last have an end."
Feeling very soon, that the manner in which he had
written might hurt me, he two days afterwards, July
28, wrote to me again, giving me an account of his
sufferings ; after which, he thus proceeds : " Before
this letter, you will have had one which I hope you
will not take amiss ; for it contains only truth, and that
truth kindly intended. ******* Spartam quam
nactus es orna ; make the most and best of your lot,
and compare yourself not with the few that are above
you, but with the multitudes which are below you.
******. Go steadily forwards with lawful busi-
ness or honest diversions. ' Be^ (as Temple says of
the Dutchman,) well when you are not ill, and pleased
when you are not angry ' — * *****. This may
seem but an ill return for your tenderness ; but 1 mean
it well, for I love you with great ardour and sincerity.
Pay my respects to dear Mrs. Boswell, and teach the
young ones to love me."
1 unfortunately was so much indisposed during a
considerable part of the year, that it was not, or at least
I thought it was not, in my power to write to my
illustrious friend as formerly, or without expressing
DR. JOHNSON. 459
such complaints as offended him. Having conjured J784.
him not to do me the injustice of charging me with ^^
affectation, 1 was with much regret long silent. His 75.
last letter to me then came, and affected me very ten-
derly :
" TO JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ.
" DEAR SIR,
" I HAVE this summer sometimes amended, and
sometimes relapsed, but, upon the whole, have lost
ground very much. My legs are extremely weak, and
my breath very short, and the water is now encreasing
upon me. In this uncomfortable state your letters
used to relieve ; what is the reason that 1 have them
no longer ? Are you sick, or are you sullen ? What-
ever be the reason, if it be less than necessity, drive it
away ; and of the short life that we have, make the
best use for yourself and for your friends. ******.
I am sometimes afraid that your omission to write has
some real cause, and shall be glad to know that you
are not sick, and that nothing ill has befallen dear Mrs.
Boswell, or any of your family.
" I am. Sir, your, &c.
" Lichjield^ Nov. 5, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
Yet it was not a little painful to me to find, that in
a paragraph of this letter, which I have omitted, he
still persevered in arraigning me as before, which was
strange in him who had so much experience of what I
suffered. I, however, wrote to him two as kind letters
as I could ; the last of which came too late to be read
by him, for his illness encreased more rapidly upon
him than I had apprehended ; but I had the consola-
tion of being informed that he spoke of me on his
death-bed, with affection, and 1 look forward with
humble hope of renewing our friendship in a better
world.
I now relieve the readers of this Work from any
farther personal notice of its authour ; who, if he
should be thought to have obtruded himself too much
46U THE LIFE OF
1784. upon their attention, request them to consider the pe-
2t'^t;uliar plan of his biographical undertaking-.
75. Soon after Johnson's return to the metropolis, both
the asthma and dropsy became more vif)lent and dis-
tressful. He had for some time kept a journal in J^atin
of the state of his illness, and the remedies which he
used, under the title of ^o-W Ephemeris^ which he be-
gan on the 6th of July, but continued it no longer than
the 8th of November; finding, I suppose, that it was a
mournful and unavailing register. It is in my posses-
sion ; and is written with great care and accuracy.
Still his love of literature^ did not fail. A very few
* It is truly wonderful to consider the extent and constancy of Johnson's literary
ardour, notwithstanding the melancholy which clouded and embittered his exist-
ence. Besides the numerous and various works which he executed, he had. at dif-
ferent times, formed schemes of a great many more, of which the following cata-
logue was given by him to Mr. Langton, and by that gentleman presented to his
Majesty.
" Divinity.
" A small book of precepts and directions for piety : the hint taken from the
directions in Morton's exercise.
" Philosophv, History, and Literature in general.
" History of Criticism, as it relates to judging of authours, from Aristotle to the
present age. An account of the rise and improvements of that art ; of the differ-
ent opinions of authours, ancient and modern.
" Translation of the History of Hcrodian.
" New edition of Fairfax's Translation of Tasso, with notes, glossary, &c.
" Chaucer, a new edition of him, from manuscripts and old editions, with va-
rious readings, conjectures, remarks on his language, and the changes it had un-
dergone from the earliest times to his age, and from his to the present ; with notes
explanatory of customs, &c. and references to Boccace, and other authours from
whom he has borrowed, with an account of the liberties he has taken in telling
the stories ; his life, and an exact etymological glossary.
" Aristotle's Rhetorick, a translation of it into English.
" A collection of Letters, translated from the modern writers, with some account
of the several authours.
" Oldham's Poems, with notes, historical and critical.
" Roscommon's Poems, with notes.
" Lives of the Philosophers, written with a polite air, in such a manner as may
divert as well as instruct.
" History of the Heathen Mvthology, with an explication of the fables, botli
allegorical and historical ; v/ith references to the poets.
" History of the State of Venice, in a compendious manner.
" Aristotle's Ethicks, an English translation of them, with notes.
" Geographical Dictionary, from the French.
" Hierocles upon Pythagoras, translated into English, perhaps with notes. This
is done by Norris.
" A book ot Letters, upon all kind of subjects.
" Claudian, a new edition of his works, cum notis variorum, in the manner of
Burman.
" TuUy's Tusculan questions, a translation of them.
" TuUy's De Natura Deorum, a translation of those books.
•' Be&zo's New History of the Ntw World, to be translated
DR. JOHNSON. 461
days before his death he transmitted to his friend Mr. 1784.
John Nichols, a hst of the authours of the Universal 2t^
75.
" Machiavel's History of Florence, to be translated.
" History of the Revival of Learning- in Europe, containing an account of
whatever contributed to the restoration of literature ; such as controversies, print-
ing, the destruction of the Greek empire, the encouragement of great men, with
the lives of the most eminent patrons, and most eminen.t early professors of all
kinds of learning in different countries.
" A Body of Chronology, in verse, with historical notes.
" A table of the Spectators, Tatlers, and Guardians, distinguished by figures
into six degrees of vsJue, with notes, giving the reasons of preference or degrad-
ation.
" A Collection of Letters from English authours, with a preface giving some ac-
count of the writers ; with reasons for selection, and criticism upon styles ; remarks
on each letter, if needful.
" A Collection of Proverbs from various languages. Jan. 6, — 53.
" A Dictionary to the Common Prayer, in imitation of Calmet's Dictionary of
tlie Bible. March, — 52.
" A collection of Stories and Examples, like those of Valerius Maximus. Jaa.
10,-53.
" From .^lian, a volume of select Stories, perhaps from others. Jan. 28, — 53.
" Collection of Travels, Voyages, Adventures, and Descriptions of Countries.
" Dictionary of Ancient History and Mythology.
" Treatise on the Study of Polite Literature, containing the history of learning,
directions for editions, commentaries, &c.
" Maxims, Characters, and Sentiments, after the manner of Bruyere, collected
out of ancient authours, particularly the Greek with Apophthegms.
" Classical Miscellanies, Select Translations from ancient Greek and Latin au-
thours.
•' Lives of Illustrious Persons, as well of the active as the learned, in imitation of
Plurarch.
" Judgement of the learned upon English authours.
" Poetical Dictionary of the English tongue.
" Considerations upon the present state of London.
" Collection of Epigrams, with notes and observations.
" Observations on the English language, relating to words, phrases, and modes
of Speech.
" Minutix Literarise, Miscellaneous reflections, criticisms, emendations, notes.
" History of the Constitution.
" Comparison of Philosophical and Christian Morality, by sentences collected
from the moralists and fathers.
" Plutarch's Lives, in English, with notes.
Poetry and works of Imagination.
" Hymn to Ignorance.
" The Palace of Sloth, —a vision.
" Coluthus, to be translated.
" Prejudice, — a poetical essay.
" The Palace of Nonsense, — a vision."
Johnson's extraordinary facility of composition, when he shook ofF his consti-
tutional indolence, and resolutely sat down to write, is admirably described by
Mr. Courtenay, in his " Poetical Review," which I have several times quoted :
" While through life's maze he sent a piercing view,
" His mind expansive to the object grew.
" With various stores of erudition fraught,
" The lively image, the deep-searching thought,
"Slept in repose ; — but when the mom^ent press'd,
462 THE LIFE OF
1784. History, mentioning their several shares in that work.
5^^ it has, according to his direction, been deposited in the
75.
" The bright ideas stood at once confess'd ;
" Instant his genius sped its vigorous rays,
" And o'er tlie letter 'd world difTiis'd a blaze :
" As womb'd with fire the cloud electrick flies,
" And calmly o'er th' horizon seems to rise :
"Touch'd by the pointed steel, the lightning flows,
" And all th" expanse with rich effulgence glows."
We shall in vain endeavour to know virith exact precision every production »f
Johnson's pen. He owned to me, that he had written about forty sermons ; but
as I understood that he had given or sold them to different persons, who were to
preach them as their own, he did not consider himself at liberty to acknowledge
them. Would those who were thus aided by him, who are still alive, and the
friends of those who are dead, fairly inform the world, it would be obligingly
gratifying a reasonable curiosity, to which there should, I think, now be no objec-
tion. Two volumes of them, pubhshed since his death, are sufficiently ascer-
tained ; see Vol. II. p. 430. — I have before me, in his hand-writing, a fragment of
twenty quarto leaves, of a translation into English of Sallust, De Bella Catilinario.
When it was done I have no notion ; but it seems to have no very superiour
merit to mark it as his. Besides the pubHcatiohs heretofore mentioned, I am sat-
isfied, from internal evidence, to admit also as genuine the following, which, not-
wthstanding all my chronological care, escaped me in the course of this work :
"Considerations on the Case of Dr. Trapp's Sermons,"f published in 1739, in
the Gentleman's Magazine. It is a very ingenious defence of the right of abridging
an authour's work, without being held as infringing his property. This is one of
the nicest questions in the Zi^if o/ZzVcra/are; and I cannot help thinking, that
the indulgence of abridging is oftpn exceedingly injurious to authours and book-
sellers, and should in very few cases be permitted. At any rate, to prevent diffi-
cult and uncertain discussion, and give an absolute security to authours in the
property of their labours, no abridgement whatever should be permitted, till after
the expiration of such a number of years as the Legislature may be pleased to fix.
But, though it has been confidently ascribed to him, I cannot allow that he
wrote a Dedication to both Houses of Parliament of a book entitled " The Evan-
gelical History Harmonized." He was no croaker ; no declaimer against the times.
He would not have written, " That we are fallen upon an age in which corrup-
tion is not barely universal, is universally confessed." Nor, " Rapine preys on
the publick without opposition, and perjury betrays it without inquiry." Nor
would he, to excite a speedy reformation, have conjured up such phantoms of
terrour as these : " A few years longer, and perhaps all endeavours will be in vain.
We may be swallowed by an earthquake : we may be delivered to our enemies."
This is not Johnsonian.
There are, indeed, in this Dedication several sentences constructed upon the
model of those of Johnson. But the imitation of the form, without the spirit of
his style, has been so general, that this of itself is not sufficient evidence. Even
our newspaper writers aspire to it. In an account of the funeral of Edwin, the
comedian, in " The Diary" of Nov. 9, 1790, that son of drollery is thus described :
'■'■ A man who had so often cheered the sullenness of vacancy, and suspended the
approaches of sorrow." And in " The Dublin Evening Post," August 16, 1791,
there is the following paragraph : " It is a singular circumstance, that in a city
like this, containing 200,000 people, there are three months in the year during
which no place of publick amusement is open. Long vacation is here a vacation
from pleasure, as well as business ; nor is there any mode of passing the listless
evenings of declining summer, but in the riots of a tavern, or the stupidity of a
coffee-house."
I have not thought it necessary to specify every copy of verses written by
Johnson, it being my intention to publish an authentick edition of all his Poetry.
with notes.
DR. JOHNSON. 463
British Museum, and is printed in the Gentleman's i784.
Magazine for December, 1784.^ ^tau
During his sleepless nights he amused himself by 75.
translating into Latin verse, from the Greek, many of
the epigrams in the Anthologia. These translations,
with some other poems by him in Latin, he gave to his
friend Mr. Langton, who, having added a few notes,
sold them to the booksellers for a small sum to be given,
to some of Johnson's relations, which was accordingly
done ; and they are printed in the collection of his
works.
' [As the letter accompanying this list, (which fully supports the observation in
the text,) was written but a week before Dr. Johnson's death, the reader may not
be displeased to find it here preserved :
" TO MR. NICHOLS.
" The late learned Mr. Swinton, having one day remarked that one man, mean-
ing, I suppose, no man but himself, could assign all the parts of the Ancient Uni-
versal History to their proper authours, at the request of Sir Robert Chambers, or
of myself, gave the account which I now transmit to you in his own hand ; being
willing that of so great a work the history should be known, and that each writer
should receive his due proportion of praise from posterity.
" I recommend to you to preserve this scrap of literary intelligence in Mr.
Swinton's own hand, or to desposite it in the Museum, that the veracity of this
account may never be doubted.
" I am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
« Dec. 6, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
Mr. S n.
The History of the Carthaginians.
Numidians.
^— — — ^^— Mauritanians.
Gsetulians.
Garamanthcs.
Melano Gstulians.
Nigrits.
Cyrenaica.
Marmarica.
Regio Syrtica.
Turks, Tartars, and Moguls.
Indians.
• Chinese.
Dissertation on the peopling of America.
— on the independency of the Arabs. —
The Cosmogony, and a small part of the Historv immediately following ; by
Mr. Sale.
To the birth of Abraham ; chiefly by Mr. Shelvock.
History of the Jews, Gauls, and Spaniards ; by Mr. Psalmanazar.
Xenophon's Retreat ; by the same.
History of the Persians and the Constantinopolitan Empire ; by Dr. Campbell.
History of the Romans ; by Mr. Bower.]
464 THE LIFE OF
J 784. A very erroneous notion has circulated as to John-^
2j^ son's deficiency in the knowledge of the Greek lan-
75. gnage, partly owing to the modesty with which, fr(»m
knowins: how much there was to be learnt, he used
to mention his own comparative acquisitions. When
Mr. Cumberland^ talked to him of the Greek fragments
which are so well illustrated in " The Observer," and
of the Greek dramatists in general, he candidly ac-
knowledged his insufficiency in that particular branch
of Greek literature. Yet it may be said, that though
not a great, he was a good Greek scholar. Dr. Charles
Burney, the younger, who is universally acknowledged
by the best judges, to be one of the few men of this
age who are very eminent for their skill in that noble
language, has assured me, that Johnson could give a
Greek word for almost every English one ; and that al-
though not sufficiently conversant in the niceties of the
language, he, upon some occasions discovered, even in
these, a considerable degree of critical acumen. Mr.
Dalzel, Professor of Greek at Edinburgh, whose skill in
it is unquesti')nable, mentioned to me, in very liberal
terms, the impression which was made upon him by
Johnson, in a conversation which they had in London
concerning that language. As Johnson, therefore,
was undoubtedly one of the first Latin scholars in mod-
ern times, let us not deny to his fame some additional
splendour from Greek.
1 shall now fulfil my promise of exhibiting specimens
of various sorts of imitation of Johnson's style.
In the " Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy,
1787," there is an " Essay on the Style of Dr. Samuel
Johnson," by the Reverend Robert Burrowes, whose
respect for the great object of his criticism^ is thus evinc-
■ Mr. Cumberland assures me, that he was always treated with great courtesy
by Dr. Johnson, who, in his ' Letters to Mrs. Thrale," Vol. 11. p. 68, thus speaks
of that learned, ingenious, and accomplished gentleman : " The want of company
is an inconvenience, but Mr. Cumberland is a million."
" We must smile at a little inaccuracy or metaphor in the Preface to the Trans-
actions, which is written by Mr. Burrowes. The critici of the style of Johnson
having, with a just zeal for literature, observed, that the whole nation are called
on to exert themselves, afterwards says ; " They are called on by every tye which
can have a laudable influence on the heart of man."
DR. JOHNSON. 46^3
ed in the concluding paragraph : I have singled him 1784.
out from the whole body of English writers, because his ^^
universally-acknowledged beauties would be most apt 75. '
to induce imitation ; and I have treated rather on his
faults, than his perfections, because an essay might com-
prize all the observations 1 could make upon his faults,
while volumes would not be sufficient for a treatise on
his perfections."
Mr. Burrowes has analysed the composition of
Johnson, and pointed out its peculiarities with much
acuteness ; and 1 would recommend a careful perusal
of his Essay to those, who being captivated by the
union of perspicuity and splendour which the writings
of Johnson contain, without having a sufficient portion
of his vigour of mind, may be in danger of becoming
bad copyists of his manner. I, however, cannot but
observe, and I observe it to his credit, that this learned
gentleman has himself caught no mean degree of the
expansion and harmony, which, independent of all other
circumstances, characterise the sentences of Johnson.
Thus, in the Preface to the volume in which the Essay
appears, we find, " If it be said that in societies of this
sort, too much attention is frequently bestowed on sub-
jects barren and speculative, it may be answered, that
no one science is so little connected with the rest, as
not to afford many principles whose use may extend
considerably beyond the science to which they pri-
marily belong ; and that no proposition is so purely
theoretical as to be totally incapable of being applied
to practical purposes. There is no apparent connection
between duration and the cycloidal arch, the proper-
ties of which duly attended to, have furnished us with
our best regulated methods of measuring time : and he
who has made himself master of the nature and affec-
tions of the logarithmick curve, is not aware that he has
advanced considerably towards ascertaining the propor-
tionable density of the air at its various distances from
the surface of the earth."
The ludicrous imitators of Johnson's style are innu-
merable. Their general method is to accumulate hard,
words, without considering, that, although he was fond
VOL. III. 59
466 THE LIFE OF
17B4. of introducing them occasionally, there is not a single ^i
^^ sentence in all his writings where they are crowded ■
75.' together, as in the first verse of the following imaginary fl
Ode by him to Mrs. Thrale," which appeared in the
newspapers :
" Cervisial coctor^s vidtiate dame,
" Opins^t thou his gigantick fame,
" Procumbing at that shrine ;
" Shall, catenated by thy charms,
" A captive in thy ambient arms,
" Perennially be thine ?"
This, and a thousand other such attempts, are totally
unlike the original, which the writers imagined they
were turning into ridicule. There is not similarity
enough for burlesque, or even for caricature.
Mr. CoLMAN, in his " Prose on several occasions,"
has " A Letter from Lexiphanes ; containing Pro-
posals for a Glossary or Vocabularif of the Vulgar
Tongue : intended as a Supplement to a large Dic-
tionary." It is evidently meant as a sportive sally
of ridicule on Johnson, whose style is thus imitated,
without beings grossly overcharged. "It is easy to
foresee, that the idle and illiterate will complain that I
have increased their labours by endeavouring to dimin-
ish them ; and that I have explained what is more easy
"■ Johnson's wishing to unite himself with this rich widow, was much talked of,
but I believe without foundation. The report, however, gave occasion to a poem,
not without characteristical merit, entitled, " Ode to Mrs. Thrale, by Samuel John-
son, LL. D. on their supposed approaching Nuptials ;" printed for Mr. Faulder, in
Bond-street. — I shall quote as a specimen, the first three stanzas ;
." If e'er my fingers touch'd the lyre,
" In satire fierce, in pleasure gay ;
" Shall not my Thralia's smiles inspire ?
" Shall Sam refuse the sportive lay .'
" My dearest Lady ! view your slave,
" Behold him as your very Scrub ;
" Eager to write as authour grave,
" Or govern well, the brewing-tub.
" To rich felicity thus raised,
" My bosom glows with amorous fire ;
" Porter no longer shall be praised,
^ " 'Tis I MYSELF am Thrale s £ntire."
DR. JOHNSON. 467
by what is more difficult — ignotmn per ignotius. I ^784.
expect, on the other hand, the liberal acknowledge- ^^^
ments of the learned. He who is buried in scholas- 75.
tick retirement, secluded from the assemblies of the
gay, and remote from the circles of the polite, will at
once comprehend the definitions, and be grateful for
such a seasonable and necessary' elucidation of his
mother-tongue." Annexed to this letter is a short
specimen of the work, thrown together in a vague and
desultory manner, not even adhering to alphabetical
concatenation.'
The serious imitators of Johnson's style, whether
intentionally or by the imperceptible effect of its
strength and animation, are, as 1 have had already
occasion to observe, so many, that I might introduce
quotations from a numerous body of writers in our
language, since he appeared in the literary world. 1
shall point out the following :
WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D. D.
" In other parts of the globe, man, in his rudest state,
appears as Lord of the creation, giving law to various
tribes of animals which he has tamed and reduced to
subjection. The Tartar follows his prey on the horse
which he has reared, or tends his numerous herds
which furnish him both with food and clothing ; the
Arab has rendered the camel docile, and avails himself
of its persevering strength ; the Laplander has formed
the rein-deer to be subservient to his will ; and even
the people of Kamschatka have trained their dogs to
labour. This command over the inferiour creatures is
one of the noblest prerogatives of man, and among the
greatest efforts of his wisdom and power. Without
' " Higgledy piggledy, — -Conglomeration and confusion.
" Hedge-podge, — A culinary mixture of heterogeneous ingredients : applied met-
aphorically to all discordant combinations.
" Tit for Tat, — Adequate retaliation.
" Sh'dly Shally, — ^Hesitation and irresolution.
" Fee ! fa ! fum ! — Gigantick intonations.
" Rigmarole,— Yi\%zo\yc?,Q, incoherent and rhapsodical,
" Crincurrfcrancum, — Lines of irregularity and involution.
" Ding-dong, — Tintinabulary chimes, used metaphorically to signify dispatcb^and
vehemence."
46^8 THE LIFE OP
1784. this, his dominion is incomplete. He is a monarch
"^^ who has no subjects ; a master without servants ; and
75. must perform every operation by the strength of his
own arm.^'^
EDWARD GIBBON, ESQ.
" Of all our passions and appetites, the love of power
is of the most imperious and unsociable nature, since
the pride of one man requires the submission of the
multitude. In the tumult of civil discord the laws of
Society lose their force, and their place is seldom sup-
plied by those of humanity. The ardour of contention,
the pride of victory, the despair of success, the memory
of past injuries, and the fear of future dangers, all con-
tribute to inflame the mind, and to silence the voice
of pity." 3
MISS BURNEY.
" My family, mistaking ambition for honour, and
rank for dignity, have long planned a splendid con-
nection for me, to which, though my invariable repug-
nance has stopped any advances, their wishes and their
views immoveably adhere, I am but too certain they
will now listen to no other. 1 dread, therefore, to make
a trial where I despair of success ; 1 know not how to
risk a prayer with those who may silence me by a
command."* ^
REV. MR. NARES.5
" In an enlightened and improving age, much per-
haps is not to be apprehended from the inroads of mere
caprice ; at such a period it will generally be perceived,
^ " History of America :" Vol. I. quarto, p. 332.
^ " Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," Vol. I. Chap. IV.
' " Cecilia," Book VII. Chap. I.
' The passages which I quote are taken from that gentleman's " Elements at
Orthoept ; containing a distinct View of the whole Analogy of the English
Language, so far as relates to Pronunciation, Accent, and Quantity, London, 1784.
I beg leave to ofFer my particular acknowledgements to the authour of a work of
uncommon merit and great utility. I know no book which contains, in the same
compass, more learning, polite Uteratnre, sonnd sense, accuracy o/ arrangement,
and perspicuity of expression.
DR. JOHNSON. 469
that needless irregularity is the worst of all deformities, 1784.
and that nothing is so truly elegant in language as the ^T^^
simplicity of unviolated analogy. — Rules will, there- ^^^^'
fore, be observed, so far as they are known and ac-
knowledged : but, at the same time, the desire of
improvement having been once excited will not remain
inactive ; and its efforts, unless assisted by knowledge,
as much as they are prompted by zeal, will not un-
frequently be found pernicious ; so that the very
persons whose intention it is to perfect the instrument
of reason, will deprave and disorder it unknowingly.
At such a time, then, it becomes peculiarly necessary
that the analogy of language should be fully examined
and understood ; that its rules should be carefully laid
down ; and that it should be clearly known how much
it contains, which being already right should be de-
fended from change and violation ; how much it has
that demands amendment ; and how much that, for
fear of greater inconveniences, must, perhaps, be left,
unaltered, though irregular."
A distinguished authour in " The Mirror,"^ a
periodical paper, published at Edinburgh, has imitated
Johnson very closely. Thus, in No. 16. — " The effects
of the return of spring have been frequently remarked
as well in relation to the human mind as to the animal
and vegetable world. The reviving power of this
season has been traced from the fields to the herds
that inhabit them, and from the lower classes of beings
up to man. Gladness and joy are described as prevad-
ing through universal nature, animating the low of the
cattle, the carol of the birds, and the pipe of the shep-
herd."
The Reverend Dr. Knox, master of Tunbridge
school, appears to have the imitari aveo of Johnson's
style perpetually in his mind ; and to his assiduous,
though not servile study of it, we may partly ascribe
the extensive popularity of his writings.^
' That collection was presented to Dr. Johnson, I believe by its authours ; and
I heard him speak very well of it.
' It were to be wished, that he had imitated that great man in every respect,
and had not followed the example of Dr. Adam Smith, in ungraciously attacking
470 THE LIFE OP
1784. In his " Essays, Moral and Literary," No. 3, we
2^J^ find the following passage : — " The polish of external
75. grace may indeed be deferred till the approach of man-
hood. When solidity is obtained by pursuing the
modes prescribed by our fore-fathers, then may the file
be used. The firm substance will bear attrition, and
the lustre then acquired will be durable."
There is, however, one in No. 11, which is blown
up into such tumidity, as to be truly ludicrous. The
writer means to tell us, that Members of Parliament,
who have run in debt by extravagance, will sell their
votes to avoid an arrest,^ which he thus expresses ; —
" They who build houses and collect costly pictures and
furnitures, with the money of an honest artisan or me-
chanick, will be very glad of emancipation from the
hands of a bailiff, by a sale of their senatorial suffrage."
But 1 think the most perfect imitation of Johnson is
a professed one, entitled " A Criticism on Gray's
Elegy in a Country Church-Yard," said to be written
by Mr. Young, Professor of Greek, at Glasgovi^, and
of which let him have the credit, unless a better title
can be shewn. It has not only the particularities of
Johnson's style, but that very species of literary discus-
sion and illustration for which he was eminent. Hav-
ing already quoted so much from others, I shall refer
the curious to this performance, with an assurance of
much entertainment.
his venerable Alma Mater, Oxford. It must, however, be observed, that he is
much less to blame than Smith : he only objects to certain particulars ; Smith to
the whole institution ; though indebted for much of his learning to an exhibition
which he enjoyed, for many years at Balliol College. Neither of them, however,
will do any hurt to the noblest university in the world. While I animadvert on
what appears to me, exceptionable in some of the works of Dr. Knox, I cannot
refuse due praise to others of his productions ; particularly his sermons, and to
the spirit with which he maintains, against presumptuous hereticks, the consola-
tory doctrines peculiar to the Christian Revelation. This he has done in a man-
ner equally strenuous and conciliating. Neither ought I to omit mentioning a
remarkable instance of his candour. Notwithstanding the wide difference of our
opinions, upon the important subject of University education, in a letter to me
concerning this Work, he thus expresses himself : " I thank you for the very great
entertainment your Life of Johnson gives me. It is a most valuable work. Yours
is a new species of biography. Happy for Johnson, that he had so able a record-
er of his wit and wisdom."
« " Dr. Knox/in his " Moral and Literary" abstraction, may be excused for not
knowing the political regulations of liis country. No senator can be in the hands
of a bailiff.
DR. iJOHNSON. 471
Yet whatever merit there may be in any imitations 1784.
of Johnson^s style, every good judge must see that they "^^^
are obviously different from the original ; for all of them 75, '
are either deficient in its force, or overloaded with its
peculiarities ; and the powerful sentiment to which it
is suited is not to be found.
Johnson's affection for his departed relations seemed
to grow warmer as he approached nearer to the time
when he might hope to see them again. It probably
appeared to him that he should upbraid himself with
unkind inattention, were he to leave the world without
having paid a tribute of respect to their memory.
"to MR. GREEN, APOTHECARY, AT LICHFIELD. «
" DEAR SIR,
" I HAVE enclosed the Epitaph for my Father,
Mother, and Brother, to be all engraved on the large
size, and laid in the middle aisle in St. Michael's church,
which I request the clergyman and church- wardens to
permit.
" The first care must be to find the exact place of
interment, that the stone may protect the bodies. Then
let the stone be deep, massy, and hard ; and do not let
the difference of ten pounds, or more, defeat our
purpose.
" I have enclosed ten pounds, and Mrs. Porter will
pay you ten more, which I gave her for the same pur-
pose. What more is wanted shall be sent ; and I beg
that all possible haste may be made, for I wish to have .
it done while I am yet alive. Let me know, dear Sir,
that you receive this.
" I am. Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Dec. 2, 1784. " Sam. Johnson.''
♦ See Vol. II. p. 269.
472 THE LIFE OF
J784.
75.
"to MRS. LUCY PORTER, IN LICHFIELD.'
' DEAR MADAM,
" 1 AM very ill, and desire your prayers. I have
sent Mr. Green the Epitaph, and a power to call on you
for ten pounds.
" 1 laid this summer a stone over Tetty, in the chapel
of Bromley, in Kent. The inscription is in Latin, of
which this is the English. [Here a translation.]
" That this is done, I thought it fit that you should
know. What care will be taken of us, who can tell ?
May God pardon and bless us, for Jesus Christ's
sake.
" I am, &c.
" Dec. 2, 1784. " Sam. Johnson."
My readers are now, at last, to behold Samuel
Johnson preparing hims.^lf for that doom, from which
the most exalted powers afford no exemption to man.
Death had always been to him an object of terrour ; so
that, though by no means happy, he still clung to life
with an eagerness at which many have wondered. At
any time when he was ill, he was very much pleased to
be told that he looked better. An ingenious member
of the Eumelian Club'' informs me, that upon one oc-
casion, when he said to him that he saw health return-
ing to his cheek, Johnson seized him by the hand and
exclaimed, " Sir, you are one of the kindest friends I
ever had."
His own state of his views o^ futurity will appear
truly rational ; and may, perhaps, impress the unthink-
ing with seriousness.
" You know, (says he, 3) I never thought confidence
with respect to futurity, any part of the character of a
' [This lady, whose name so frequently occurs in the course of tliis work, sur-
▼ived Dr. Johnson just thirteen months. She died at Lichfield in her 7 1st year,
January 13, 17X6, and bequeathed the principal part of her fortune to the Rev.
Mr. Pearson, of Lichfield. M.]
^ A club in London, founded by the learned and ingenious physician. Dr. Ash,
in honour of whose name it was called Eumdian^ from the Greek Ei/afXia? : though
it was warmly contended, and even put to a vote, that it should have the more
obvious appellation of Fraxinean, from the Latin.
• Mrs. Thrale's Collection, March 10, 1784. Vol. II. p. 3.
,//
Jl;
jlif.Xvv^,
p-
/
(
wiyi^mm^J^
1
DR. JOHNSON. 47s
brave, a wise, or a good man. Bravery has no place 1784,
where it can avail nothing; wisdom impresses strongly ^^
the consciousness of those faults, of which it is, perhaps, 75. '
itself an aggravation ; and goodness, always wishing to
be better, and imputing every deficience to criminal neg-
ligence, and every faidt to voluntary corruption, never
dares to suppose the condition of forgiveness fulfilled,
nor what is wanting in the crime supplied by penitence.
" This is ttie state of the best ; but what must be
•the condition of him whose heart will not suffer him to
rank himself among the best, or among the good ? Such
must be his dread of the approaching trial, as will leave
him little attention to the opinion of those whom he is
leaving for ever ; and the serenity that is not felt, it can
be no virtue to feign."
His great fear of death, and the strange dark manner
in which Sir John Hawkins imparts the uneasiness
which he expressed on account of offences with which
he charged himself, may give occasion to injurious
suspicions, as if there had been something of more than
ordinary criminality weighing upon his conscience.
On that account, therefore, as well as from the regard
to truth which he inculcated,* 1 am to mention, (with
all possible respect and delicacy, however,) that his
conduct, after he came to London, and had associated
with Savage and others, was not so strictly virtuous, in
one respect, as when he was a younger man. It was
well known, that his amorous inclinations were uncom-
monly strong and impetuous. He owned to many of
his friends, that he used to take women of the town to
taverns, and hear them relate their history. — In short,
it must not be concealed, that, like many other good
and pious men, among whom we may place the apostle
Paul upon his own authority, Johnson was not free,
from propensities which were ever "warring against
the law of his mind," — and that in his combats with
them, he was sometimes overcome.
Here let the profane and licentious pause ; let them
not thoughtlessly say that Johnson was an hijpQcrite^
See what he taid to Mr. Malone, pp. 181, 182, of this Tohime,
VOL. III. 60
47-1 XHE LIFE OP
1784, or that his principles were not firm, because his jor«c-
^^ tice was not uniformly conformable to what he professed.
75. ' Let the question be considered independent of moral
and religious associations ; and no man will deny that
thousands, in many instances, act against conviction.
Is a prodigal, for example, an hjpocrite^ when he owns
he is satisfied that his extravagance will bring him to
ruin and misery \ We are sure he believes it ; but im-
mediate inclination, strengthened by indulgence, pre-
vails over that belief in influencing his conduct. Why
then shall credit be refused to the sincerity of those
who acknowledge their persuasion of moial and relig-
ious duty, yet sometimes f^^il of living as it requires ? I
heard Dr. Johnson once observe, " 1 here is something
noble in publishing truth, though it condemns one's
self."^ And one who said in his presence, " he had no
notion of people being in earnest in their good profes-
sions, whose practice was not suitable to them," was
thus reprimanded by him : — " Sir, are you so grossly
ignorant of human nature as not to know that a man
may be very sincere in good principles, without having
good practice !" ^
But let no man encourage or soothe himself in " pre-
sumptuous sin," from knowing that Johnson was some-
times hurried into indulgences which he thought crim-
inal. I have exhibited this circumstance as a shade in
so great a character, both from my sacred love of truth,
and to shew that he was not so weakly scrupulous as
he has been represented by those who imagine that the
sins, of which a deep sense was upon his mind, were
merely such little venial trifles as pouring milk into his
tea on Good Friday. His understanding will be de-
fended by my statement, if his consistency of conduct
be in some degree impaired. But what wise man would,
for momentary gratifications, deliberately subject him-
■■ Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, 3d. edit. p. 209. On the same subject, in
his Letter to Mrs. Thrale, dated Nov. 29, 1783, he makes the following just obser-
vation : " Life, to be worthy of a rational being, must be always in progression ;
we must always purpose to do more or better than in time past. The mind is en-
larged and elevated by mere purposes, though they end as they began, bv air\
contemplation. We compare and judge, though we do not practise."
0 Ibid. p. 374.
DR. JOHNSON. 47o
self to suffer such uneasiness as we find was experienc- •784.
ed by Johnson in reviewing his conduct as compared ^^
with his notion of the ethicks of the gospel ? Let the 75.
following passages be kept in remembrance : " O, God,
giver and preserver of all life, by whose power 1 was
created, and by whose providence 1 am sustained, look
down upon me with tenderness and mercy ; grant that
I may not have been created to be finally destroyed ;
that I may not be preserved to add wickedness to wick-
edness.^' ^ — " O, Lord, let me not sink into total de-
pravity ; look down upon me, and rescue me at last
from the captivity of sin." ^ — " Almighty and most
merciful Father, who hast continued my life from year
to year, grant that by longer life I may become less de-
sirous of sinful pleasures, and more careful of eternal
happiness.'' 5 — " Let not my years be multiplied to in-
crease my guilt ; but as my age advances, let me be-
come more pure in my thoughts, more regular in my
desires, and more obedient to thy laws."' " Forgive,
O merciful Lord, whatever 1 have done contrary to
thy laws. Give me such a sense of my wickedness as
may produce true contrition and effectual repentance ;
so that when I shall be called into another state, I may
be received among the sinners to whom sorrow and
reformation have obtained pardon, for Jesus Christ's
sake. Amen."^
Such was the distress of mind, such the penitence of
Johnson, in his hours of privacy, and in his devout ap-
proaches to his Maker. His sincerity^ therefore, must
appear to every candid mind unquestionable.
It is of essential consequence to keep in view, that
there was in this excellent man's conduct no false prin-
ciple of cominufution^ no deliberate indulgence in sin,
in consideration of a counterbalance of duty. His of-
fending, and his repenting, were distinct and separate :^
and when we consider his almost unexampled attention
' Prayers and Meditations, p. 47. s i^id. p. 68.
Ibid. p. 84. ' Ibid. p. 120. ^ Ibid. p. 130.
' Dr. Johnson related, with very earnest approbation, a story of a gentleman,
who, in an impulse of passion, overcame the virtue of a young woman. When
she said to him, " I am afraid we have done wrong !" he answered, " Yes, we have
done wrong ; — for I would not debauch her mind."
47() THE LIFE OP
17B4. to truth, his inflexible integrity, his constant piety, who
^^ will dare to " cast a stone at him !" Besides, let it never
75. be forgotten, that he cannot be charged with any of-
fence indicating badness oi heart, any thing dishonest,
base, or malignant ; but, that, on the contrary, he was
charitable in an extraordinary degree : so that even in
one of his own rigid judgements of himself, (!^2aster-eve,
1781,) while he says, " 1 have corrected no ext<^rnal
habits ;" he is obliged to own, " 1 hope that since my
last communion 1 have advanced, by pious refl(^ctions,
fn my submission to God, and my benevolence to
man."*
1 am conscious that this is the most diffif^ult and dan-
gerous part of my biographical work, and 1 cannot but
be very anxious concerning it. 1 trust that I have got
through it, preserving at once my regard to truth, — to
my friend, — and to the interests of virtue and religion.
Nor can I apprehend that more harm can ensue from
the knowledge of the irregularities of Johnson, guarded
as 1 have stated it, than from knowing that Addison
and Parnell were intemperate in the use of wine; which
he himself, in his Lives of those celebrated writers and
pious men, has not forborne to record.
It is not my intention to give a very minute detail f>f
the particulars of Johnson's remaining days, of whom it
was now evident, that the crisis was fast approaching,
■when he must " die like men, and fall like one of the
Princes" Yet it will be instructive, as well as grati-
fying to the curiosity of my readers, to record a {ew
circumstances, on the authenticity of which they may
perfectly rely, as I have been at the utmost pains to
obtain an accurate account of his last illness, from the
best authority.
Dr. Heberden, Dr. Brooklesby, Dr. Warren, and Dr.
Butter, physicians, generously attended him, without
accepting any fees, as did Mr. Cruikshank, surgeon ;
and all that could be done from professional skill and
ability, was tried, to prolong a life so truly valuable.
He himself, indeed, having, on account of his very bad
* Prayers and Meditations, p. ISS*.
DR. JOHNSON. 477
constitution, been perpetually applying himself to med- 1 784.
ical enquiries, united his own effbits uith those of the ^^
gentlemen who attended him ; and imagining that the 75. '
dropsical colleciion of water which oppressed hmi might
be drawn off by making incisions in his body, he, with
his usual resolute dtfiance of pain, cut deep when he
thought that his surgeon had done it too tenderly. ^
About eight or ten days before his death, when Dr.
Brocklesby paid him his morning visit, he seemed very
low and desponding, and said, " I have been as a dying
man all night." He then emphatically broke out in
the words of Shakspeare,
" Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseased ;
" Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ;
" Raze out the written troubles of the brain ;
" And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
" Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
" Which weighs upon the heart I"
To which Dr. Brocklesby readily answered, from the
same great poet :
therein the patient
" Must minister to himselt."
Johnson expressed himself much satisfied with th^ ap-
plication.
On another day after this, when talking on the sub-
ject of prayer, Dr. Brocklesby repeated from Juvenal,
" Orandum est, ut sit mens Sana in corporae sano"
and so on to the end of the tenth satire ; but in running
it quickly over, he happened, in the line,
" Qui spntium vitce extremum inter munera ponat"
' This bold experiment, Sir John Hawkins has related In such a manner as to
suggest a charge against Johnson of intentionally hastening his end ; a charge so
very inconsistent with his character in every respect, that it is injurious even to
refute it, as Sir John has thought it necessary to do. It is evident, that what
Johnson did in hopes *i relief, indicated ^a extraordinary eagerness to retard his
•dissolution.
478 THE LIFE OF
1784. to pronounce supremuin for cxtremum ; at which John-
^^ son's critical ear instantly took offence, and discoursing
75. vehemently on the un metrical efl^ect of such a lapse, he
shewed himself as full as ever of the spirit of the gram-
marian.
Having no other relations,'^ it had been for some
time Johnson's intention to make a liberal provision for
his faithful servant, Mr. Francis Barber, whom he look-
ed upon as particularly under his protection, and whom
he had all along treated truly as an humble friend.
Having asked Dr. Brocklesby what would be a proper
annuity to a favourite servant, and being answered that
it must depend on the circumstances of the master ;
and, that in the case of a nobleman, fifty pounds a year
was considered as an adequate reward for many years*
faithful service ; — " Then, (said Johnson.) shall I be
nobUissimus^ for I mean to leave Frank seventy pounds
a year, and 1 desire you to tell him so." It is strange,
however, to think, that .lohnson was not free from that
general weakness of being averse to execute a will, so
that he delayed it from time to time ; and had it not
been for Sir John Hawkins's repeatedly urging it, I
think it is probable that his kind resolution would not
have been fulfilled. After making one, which, as Sir
'' [The authour in a former page has shewn the injustice of Sir John Hawkins's
charge against Johnson, with respect to a person of the name of Heely, whom he
has inaccurately represented as a relation of Johnson's. See p. 450. — That John-
son was anxious to discover whether any of his relations w^ere hving, is evinced
by the following letter, written not long before he made his Will :
" TO THE REV. DR. VYSE, IDftAMBETH.
" SIR,
" I AM desirous to know whether Charles Scrimshaw of Woodsease
(I think,) in your father's neighbourhood be now living ; what is his condition,
and where he may be found. If you can conveniently make any enquiry about him,
and can do it without delay, it will be an act of great kindness to me, he being
very nearly related to me. I beg [you] to pardon this trouble.
" I am, Sir,
" Your most humble servant,
" Bolt-court, Fleet-street, " Sam. Johnson."
Nov. 29, 1 784.
In conformity to the wish expressed in the preceding letter, an enquiry was
made, but no descendants of Charles Scrimshaw or of his sisters, were discovered
to be hving. Dr. Vyse informs mc, that Dr. Johnson told him, " he was disap-
pointed in the enquiries he had made after his relations." There is therefore no
ground whatsoever for supposing that he was unmindful of them, or neglected
thera. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 479
John Hawkins informs us, extended no further than >784.
the promised annuity, Johnson's final disposition <J^ his ^J^
property was estabhshed by a Will and Codicil, of which 75. '
copies are subjoined.^
' " In the Name of God. Amen. I, Samuel Johnson, being in full posses-
sion of my faculties, but fearing tiiis night may put an end to my life, do ordain
this my last Will and Testament. I bequeath to God, a soul polluted by many
sins, but I hope purified by Jesus Christ. — I leave seven hundred and fifty
pounds in the hands of Bennet Langton, Esq. ; three hundred pounds in the
hands of Mr. Barclay and Mr. Perkins, brewers ; one hundred and filty pounds
in the hands of Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore ; one thousand pounds, three per
cent, annuities iji the publick funds ; and one hundred pounds now lying by me
in ready money : all these before-mentioned sums and property I leave, I say, to
Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir John Hawkins, and Dr. William bcott, of Doctors Com-
mons, in trust, for the following uses : — That is to say, to pay to the representa-
tives of the late William Innys, bookseller, in St. Paul's Church-yard, the sum of two
hundred pounds ; to A'Irs. White, my female servant, one hundred pounds stock
in the three /c-r cent, annuities aforesaid. The rest of the aforesaid sums of money
and property, together with my books, plate, and household furniture, 1 leave
to the before-mentioned Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sir John Hawkins, and Dr. Will-
iam Scott, also in trust, to be apphed, after paying my debts, to the use of Fran-
cis Barber, my man-servant, a negro, in such manner as they shall judge most fit
and available to his benefit. And I appoint the aforesaid Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Sir John Hawkins, and Dr. William Scott, sole executors of this my last wll and
testament, hereby revoking all former wills and testaments whatever. In wimess
whereof I hereunto subscribe my name, and affix my seal, this eighth day of De-
cember, 1784.
" Sam. Johnson, (L. S.)
" Signed, sealed, published, declared and delivered, by the said testator, aj
his last will and testament, in the presence of us, the word tivo being
£rst inserted in the opposite page.
" George Strauan.
" John Desmoulins."
•' By way of Codicil to my last will and testament, I, Saml el Johnson, give,
devise, and bequeath, my messuage or tenement situate at Lichfield, in the county
of Stafford, Vvith the appurtenances in the tenure and occupation o. Mrs. Bond,
of Lichfield aforesaid, or of Mr. Hinchman, her under-tenant, to my executors, in
trust, to sell and dispose of the same ; and the money arising from such sale I
give and bequeath as follows, viz. to Thomas and Benjamin, the sons of Fisher
Johnson, late of Leicester, and Whiting, daughter of Thomas Johnson,
late of Coventry, and the grand-daughter of the said Thomas Johnson, one full
and equal fourth part each ; but in case there shall be more grand-daughters
than one of the said Thomas Johnson, Hving at the time of my decease, 1 give
and bequeath the part or share of that one to and equally between such grand-
daughters. I give and bequeath to the Rev. Mr. Rogers, of Berkley, near Froom,
in the county of Somerset, the sum of one hundred pounds, requesting him to
apply the same towards the maintenance of Elizabeth Heme, a lunatick. I also
give and bequeath to my god-children, the son and daughter of Mauritius Lowe,
painter, each of them, one hundred pounds of my stock in the three per cent.
consolidated annuities to be applied and disposed of by and at the discretion of
my executors, in the education or settlement in the world of them my said
legatees. Also I give and bequeath to Sir John Hawkins, one of my Executors,
the Annales Ecclessiastici of Baronius, and Holinshed's and Stowe's Chronicles,
and also an octavo Common Prayer-Book. To Bennet Langton, Esq. I give and
bequeath my Polyglot Bible. To Sir Joshua Reynolds, my great French Diction-
ary, by Martiniere, and mv own copy of my folio English Dictionary, of ihe last
480 THE LIFE OF
J784. The consideration of numerous papers of which he
^^ was possessed, seems to have struck Johnson's mind,
75. with a sudden anxiety, and as they were in great con-
re\'ision. To Dr. William Scott, one of my Executors, the Dictionnaire de Com-
merce, and Lectius's edition of the Greek Poets. To Mr. Windham, Poetae Grxci
Heroic! per Henricum Stephanum. To the Rev. Mr. Strahan, vicar of Islington,
in Middlesex, Mill's Greek Testament, Beza's Greek Testament, by Stephens, ail
my Latin Bibles, and my Greek Bible, by Wechelius. To Dr. Heberden, Dr.
Brocklesby, Dr. Butter, and Mr. Cruikshank, the surgeon who attended me, Mr.
Holder, my apothecary, Gerard Hamilton, Esq. Mrs. Gardiner, of Snow-hill, Mrs.
Frances Reynolds, Mr. Hoole, and the Reverend Mr. Hoole, his son, each a book
at their election, to keep as a token of remembrance. I also give and bequeath to
Mr. John Desmoulins, two hundred pounds consolidated three per cent, annuities ;
and to Mr. Sastres, the Italian Master, the sum of five pounds, to be laid out in
books of piety for his own use. And whereas the said Bennet 1 .angton hath
agreed in consideration of the sum of seven hundred and fifty pounds, mentioned
in my will to be in his hands, to grant and secure an annuity of seventy pound*
payable during the life of me and my servant, Francis Barber, and the Ufe of the
survivor of us, to Mr. George Stubbs, in trust for us ; my mind and will is, that
in case of my decease before the said agreement shall be pertected, the said sum
of seven hundred and fifty pounds, and the bond for securing the said sum, shall
fo to the said Francis Barber ; and I hereby give and bequeath to him the same,
in lieu of the bequest in his favour, contained in my said will. And I hereby em-
power my Executors to deduct and retain all expences that shall or may be incur-
red in the execution of my said Will, or of this Codicil thereto, out of such estate
and effects as I shall die possessed of. All the rest, residue, and remainder, of my
estate and effects I give and bequeath to my said Executors, in trust for the said
Francis Barber, his Executors, and Administrators. Witness my hand and seal,
this ninth day of December, 1784.
" Sam. Johnson, (L. S.)
" Signed, sealed, published, declared and delivered, by the said Samuel John-
son, as, and for a Codicil to his last Will and Testament, in the presence
of us, who, in his presence, and at his request, and also in the presence ot
each other, have hereto subscribed our names as witnesses.
" John Copely.
" William Gibson.
" Henry Cole."
Upon these testamentary deeds it is proper to make a few observations.
His express declaration with his dying breath as a christian, as it had been
often practised in such solemn writings, was of real consequence from this great
man, for the conviction of a mind equally acute and strong, might well overbal-
ance the doubts of others who were his contemporaries. The expression polluted,
may, to some, convey an impression of more than ordinary contamination ; but
that is not warranted by its genuine meaning, as appears from " The Rambler,"
No. 42. The same word is used in the will of Dr. Sanderson, Bishop of lincoln^
who was piety itself.
His legacy of two hundred pounds to the representatives of Mr. Innys, book-
seller, in St. Paul's Church-yard, proceeded from a very worthy motive. He told
Sir John Hawkins, that his father having become a bankrupt, Mr. Innys had as-
sisted him with money or credit to continue his business. " This, (said he) 1 con-
sider as an obligation on me to be grateful to his descendants."
The amount of his property proved to be considerably more than he had sup-
posed it to be. Sir John Hawkins estimates the bequest to Francis Barber at a sum
little short of fifteen hundred pounds, including an annuity of seventy pounds to
be paid to him by Mr. Langton, in consideration of seven hundred and fifty
pounds, which Johnson had lent to that gentleman. Sir Jehn seems not a little
DR. JOHNSON. 481
fusion, it is much to be lamented that he had not en- '784.
trusted some faithful and discreet person with the care ^^^
and selection of them ; instead of which, he, in a pre- 75.
cipitate manner, burnt large masses of them, with little
regard, as I apprehend, to discrimination. Not that I
suppose we have thus been deprived of any composi-
tions which he had ever intended for the publick eye ;
but from what escaped the flames, I judge that many
curious circumstances relating both to himself and
other literary characters, have perished.
Two very valuable articles, I am sure, we have lost,
which were two quarto volumes, containing a full, fair,
and most particular account of his own life, from his
earliest recollection. I owned to him, that having acci-
dentally seen them, I had read a great deal in them ;
and apolugizing for tlie liberty I had taken, asketl him
anjry at this bequest, and mutters " a caveat against ostentatious bounty antf
favour to negroes." But surely when a man has money entirely of his own ac-
quisition, especially w^hen he has no near relations, he may, without blame, dis-
pose of it as he pleases, and with great propriety to a faithful servant. Mr. Bar-
ber, by the recommendation of his master, retired to Lichfield, where he might
pass the rest of his days in comfort.
It has been objected that Johnson has omitted many of his best friends, when
leaving books to several as tokens of his last remembrance. The names of Dr.
Adams, Dr. Taylor, Dr. Burney, Mr. Hector, Mr. Murphy, the Authour of this
work and others who were intimate with him, are not to be found in his Will.
This may be accounted for by considering, that as he was very near his dissolu-
tion at the time, he probably mentioned such as happened to occur to him ; and
that he may have recollected, that he had formerly shewn others such proofs of
his regard, that it was not necessary to crowd his Will with their names. Mrs.
l.,ucy Porter was much displeased that nothing was left to her ; but besides what
I have now stated, she should have considered, that she had left nothing to John-
son by her Will, which was made during his life-time, as appeared at her decease.
His enumerating several persons in one group, and leaving them " each a book
at their election," might possibly have given occasion to a curious question as to
the order of choice, had they not luckily fixed on di£Ferent books. His library,
though bv no means handsome in its appearance, was sold by Mr. Christie, for
two hundred and forty-seven pounds, nine shillings ; many people being desirous
to have a book which had belonged to Johnson. In many of them he had writ-
ten little notes : sometimes tender memorials of his departed wife ; as, " This was
dear Tetty's book :" sometimes occasional remarks of diflFerent sorts. Mr. Ly-
Bons, of Clifford's Inn, has favoured me with the two following :
In " Holy Rules and Helps to Devotions, by Bryan Duppa, Lord Bishop of
Wmton," " Prices quidam videtur ddigenter tractasse ; spero non inaud'itus.
In " The Rossicrucian infallible Axiomata, by John Heydon, Gent." prefixed
to which are some verses addressed to the authour, signed Ambr. Waters, A. M.
Coll. Ex. Oxon. " These Latin -verses -were ivritten to Hobbes by Bathurst, upon hit
Treatise on Human Nature, and have no relation to the book. An odd fraud.
[Francis Barber, Dr. Johnson's principal legatee, died in the infirmary at Staf>
ford, after undergoing a painful operation, Feb. 13, ISOl. M.]
VOL. III. fel
482 THE LIFE OF
1784. if I could help it. He placidly answered, " Why, Sir,
^J!^ I do not think you could have helped it." 1 said that
75. I had, for once in my life, felt half an inclination to
commit theft. It had come into my mind to carry otf
those two volumes, and never see him more. Upon my
enquiring how this would have affected him, " Sir,
(said he,) 1 believe I should have gone mad."^
During his last illness, Johnson experienced the
steady and kind attachment of his numerous friends.
Mr. Hoole has drawn up a narrative of what passed in
the visits which he paid him during that time, from the
loth of November to the 13th of December, the day
of his death, inclusive, and has favoured me with a
perusal of it, with permission to make extracts, which
I have done. Nobody was more attentive to him than
Mr. Langton,^ to whom he tenderly said, Te teneam
mor'iens (lejiciente nianu. And 1 think it highly to the
honour of Mr. Windham, that his important occupa-
tions as an active statesman did not prevent him from
paying assiduous respect to the dying Sage whom he
revered. Mr. Langton informs me, that, " one day he
found Mr. Burke and four or five more friends sitting
with Johnson. Mr. Burke said to him, ' I am afraid,
Sir, such a number of us may be oppressive to you.' —
' No, Sir, (said Johnson,) it is not so ; and I must be
in a wretched state, indeed, when your company would
not be a delight to me.' Mr. Burke, in a tremulous
* One of these volumes, Sir John Hawkins informs us, he put into his pocket ;
for which the excuse he states is, that he meant to preserve it from falling int»
the hands of a person whom he describes so as to make it sufficiently clear who is
meant ; " having strong reasons, (said he,) to suspect that this man might find
and make an ill use of the book." Why Sir John should suppose that the gentle-
man alluded to would act in this manner, he has not thought fit to explain. But
what he did was not approved of by Johnson ; who, upon being acquainted of it
without delay by a friend, expressed great indigTiation, and warmly insisted on
the book being delivered up ; and, afterwards, in the supposition of his missing
it, without knowing by whom it had been taken, he said, " Sir, I should have
gone out of the world distrusting half mankind." Sir John next day wrote a let-
ter to Johnson, assigning reasons for his conduct ; upon which Johnson observed
to Mr. Langton, " Bishop Sanderson could not have dictated a better letter. I
could almost say, Melius est sic penituisse quam non errasse." The agitation into
which Johnson was thrown by this incident, probably made him hastily bum
those precious records which must ever be regretted.
■' [Mr. Langton, whose name so often occurs in these volumes, survived John-
' son several years. He died at Southampton, Dec. 18, 1801. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 48o
voice, expressive of being very tenderly affected, re- 1784.
plied, ' My dear Sir, you have always been too good to ^^
me.' Immediately afterwards he went away. This 75.
was the last circumstance in the acquaintance of these
two eminent men."
The following particulars of his conversation within
a few days of his death, 1 give on the authority of Mr.
John Nichols :'
' On the same undoubted authority, I give a few articles, which should have
¥een inserted in chronological order ; but which, now that they are before me, I
should be sorry to omit :
" In 1736, Dr. Johnson had a particular inclination to have been engaged as an
assistant to the Reverend Mr. Budworth, then head master of the Grammar-school,
at Brewood, in Staffordshire, ' an excellent person, who possessed every talent of
a perfect instructor of youth, in a degree which, (to use the words of one of the
brightest ornaments of literature, the Reverend Dr. Hurd, Bishop of W^orcester,)
has been rarely found in any of that profession since the days of Ouintilian.'
Mr. Budworth, ' who was less known in his life-time, from that obscure situation
to which the caprice of fortune oft condemns the most accomplished characters,
than his highest merit deserved,' had been bred under Mr. Blackwell, at market
Bosworth, where Johnson was some time an usher ; which might naturally lead to
the application. Mr. Budworth was certainly no stranger to the learning or
abilities of Johnson, as he more than once lamented his having been under the
necessity of declining the engagement, from an apprehension that the paralytick
affection, under which our great Philologist laboured through life, might become
the object of imitation or of ridicule, among his pupils." — Captain Budworth, his
grandson, has confirmed to me this anecdote.
" Among the early associates of Johnson, at St. John's Gate, was Samuel Boyce,
well known by his ingenious productions ; and not less noted for his imprudence.
It was not unusual for Boyce to be a customer to the pawnbroker. On one of
these occasions. Dr. Johnson collected a sum of money to redeem his friend's
clothes, which in two days after were pawned again. ' The sum, (said Johnson,)
was collected by sixpences, at a time when to me sixpence was a serious consid-
eration.'
" Speaking one day of a person for whom he had a real friendship, but in
whom vanity was somewhat too predominant, he observed, that ' Kelly was so
fond of displaying on his side-board the plate which he possessed, that he added
to it his spurs. For my part (said he,) I never was master of a pair of spurs, but
once ; and they are now at the bottom of the ocean. By the carelessness of Bos-
well's servant, they were dropped from the end of the boat, on our return from
the Isle of Sky.'
The late Reverend Mr. Samuel Badcock, having been introduced to Dr. John-
son, by Mr. Nichols, some years before his death, thus expressed himself in a letter
to that gentleman :
" How much I am obliged to you for the favour you did me in introducing me
to Dr. Johnson ! Tantum -jidi Virgilium. But to have seen him, and to have re-
ceived a testimony of respect from him, was enough. I recollect all the conver-
sation and shall never forget one of his expressions — Speaking of Dr. p*******^
(whose writings, I saw, he estimated at a low rate,) he said, ' You have proved
him as deficient In probity as he is in learning.' — I called him an ' Index-scholar ;'
but he was not willing to allow him a claim even to that merit. He said, ' that
he borrowed from those who had been borrowers themselves, and did not know
that the mistakes he adopted had been answered by others.' — I often think of our
short, but precious, visit to this great man. I shall consider it as a kind of an era
in my life.
484 THE LIFE OF
17B4. " He said, that the Parliamentary Debates were the
^i^ only part of his writings whirh then gave hiin any com-
75. punction : but that at the time he wrote them, he had
no conception he was imposing upon the world, though
they were frequently written from very slender mate-
rials, and often, from none at all, — the mere coinage of
his own imagination. He never wrote any part of his
•works with equal velocity. Three columns of the
Magazine, in an hour, was no uncommon effort, which
was faster than most persons could have transcribed
that quantity."
" Of his friend 'Cave, he always spoke with great af-
fection. ' Yet, (said he,) Cave, (who never looked out
of his window, but with a view to the Gentleman's
Magazine.) was a penurious pay-master ; he would
contract for hnes by the hundred, and expect the long
hundred ; but he was a good man, and always delighted
to have his friends at his table."
" When talking of a regular edition of his own works,
he said, that he had power, [from the booksellers,] to
print such an edition, if his health admitted it ; but had
no power to assign over any edition, unless he could
add notes, and so alter them as to make them new
works ; which his slate of health forbade him to think
of. 1 may possibly live, (said he,) or rather breathe,
three da3's, or perhaps three weeks ; but find myself
daily and gradually weaker."
" He said at another time, three or four days only be-
fore his death, speaking of the little fear he had of un-
dergoing a chirurgical operation, ' 1 would give one of
these legs for a year more of life, I mean of comfortable
life, not such as that w hich 1 now suffer ;' — and la-
mented much his inability to read during his hours of
restlessness. ' 1 used formerly, (he added,) w hen sleep-
less in bed, fo read itke a Tur/c."
" Whilst confined by his last illness, it was his regu-
lar practice to have the church-service read to him, by
some attentive and friendly Divine. The Rev. Mr.
Hoole performed this kind office in my presence for
the last time, when, by his own desire, no more than
the litany was read ; in which his responses were m
DR. JOHNSON. 485
the deep and sonorous voice which Mr. Boswell has i784.
occasionally noticed, and with the most profound devo- ^J|^
ti(»n that can be imagined. His hearing not being 75.
quite perfect, he more than once interrupted Mr. Hoole,
with, ' Louder, my dear Sir, louder, I entreat you, or
you pray in vain !' — and, when the service was ended,
he, with great earnestness, turned round to an excellent
lady who was present, saying, " 1 thank you, Madam,
very heartily, for your kindness in joining me in this
solemn exercise. Live well, 1 conjure you ; and you
will not feel the compunction at the last, which 1 now
feel." So truly humble were the thoughts which this
great and good man entertained of his own approaches
to religious perfection.
" He was earnestly invited to publish a volume of
Devotional Exercises ; but this, (though he listened
to the proposal with much complacency, and a large
sum of money was offered for it,) he declined, from
motives of the sincerest modesty.
" He seriously entertained the thought of translating
Thucmus. He often talked to me on the subject ; and
once, in particular, when 1 was rather wishing that he
would favour the world, and gratify his Sovereign, by
a Life of Spencer, (which he said that he would readily
have done, had he been able to obtain any new mate-
rials for the purpose,) he added, " I have been thinking
again. Sir, of Thucmus : it would not be the laborious
task which you have supposed it. 1 should have no
trouble but that of dictation, which would be perform-
ed as speedily as an amanuensis could write."
It is to the mutual credit of Johnson and Divines of
different communions, that although he was a steady
Church-of-England man, there was, nevertheless, much
agreeable intercourse between him and them. Let me
particularly name the late Mr. La Trobe, and Mr. Hut-
ton, of the Moravian profession. His intimacy with
the English Benedictines, at Paris, lias been mentioned ;
and as an additional proof of the charity in which he
lived with good men of the Romish Church, I am hap-
py in this opportunity of recording his friendship with
the Reverend Thomas Hussey, D. D. His Calholick
486 THE LIFE OF
1784. Majesty's Chaplain of Embassy at the Court of London,
^^ that very respectable man, eminent not only for his
75. ' powerful eloquence as a preacher, but for his various
abilities and acquisitions. — Nay, though Johnson loved
a Presbyterian the least of all, this did not prevent his
having a long and uninterrupted social connection with
the Reverend Dr. James Fordyce, who, since his death,
hath gratefully celebrated him in a warm strain of devo-
tional composition.
Amidst the melancholy clouds which hung over the
dying Johnson, his characteristical manner shewed itself
on different occasions.
When Dr. Warren, in the usual style, hoped that he
was better ; his answer was, " No, Sir ; you cannot con-
ceive with what acceleration I advance towards death."
A man whom he had never seen before was employed
one night to sit up with him. Being asked next morn-
ing how he liked his attendant, his answer was, " Not
at all. Sir : the fellow's an ideot ; he is as aukward as
a turn-spit when first put into the wheel, and as sleepy
as a dormouse."
Mr. Windham having placed a pillow conveniently to
support him, he thanked him for his kindness, and said,
" That will do, — all that a pillow can do."
He repeated with great spirit a poem, consisting of
several stanzas, in four lines, in alternate rhyme, which
he said he had composed some years before,* on occa-
sion of a rich, extravagant young gentleman's coming of
age ; saying he had never repeated it but once since he
composed it, and had given but one copy of it. That
copy was given to Mrs. Thrale, now Piozzi, who has
published it in a Book which she entitles " British Sy-
nonimy," but which is truly a collection of entertain-
ing remarks and stories, no matter whether accurate or
not. Being a piece of exquisite satire, conveyed in a
strain of pointed vivacity and humour, and in a manner
^ [In 1780. See his Letter to Mrs. Thrale, dated August 8, 1780 : "You
liave heard in the papers how *** is come to age : I have enclosed a short song
of congratulation, which you must not shew to any body.— It is odd that it should
come into any body's head. I hope you will read it with candour ; it is, I believe,
one of the authour's 6rst essays in that way of writing, and a beginner is always to
be treated with tenderness." M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 487
of which no other instance is to be found in Johnson's 1784.
writings, 1 shall here insert it : ^^
Long-expected one-and-tvventy,
Ling'ring year, at length is flown ;
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great *** ****, are now your own.
Loosen'd from the Minor's tether.
Free to mortgage or to sell,
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.
Call the Betseys, Kates, and Jennies,
All the names that banish care ;
Lavish of your grandsire's guineas,
Shew the spirit of an heir.
All that prey on vice and folly
Joy to see their quarry fly ;
There the gamester, light and jolly,
There the lender, grave and sly.
Wealth, my lad, was made to wander.
Let it wander as it will ;
Call the jockey, call the pander,
Bid them come and take their fill.
When the bonny blade carouses,
Pockets full, and spirits high —
What are acres ? what are houses ?
Only dirt, or wet or dry.
Should the guardian friend or mother
Tell the woes of wilful waste :
Scorn their counsel, scorn their pother, —
You can hang or drown at last.
As he opened a note which his servant brought to
him, he said, " An odd thought strikes me : — we shall
receive no letters in the grave."
He requested three things of Sir Joshua Reynolds :
— To forgive him thirty pounds which he had borrowed
of him ; — to read the Bible ; — and never to use his
7').
488 THE LIFE OF
1784. pencil on a Sunday. Sir Joshua readily acquiesced.
^(^ Indeed he shewed the greatest anxiety for the rehg;-
75. ious improvement of his friends, to whom he discoursed
of its infinite consequence. He begorpcl of Mr. Hoole
to think of what he had said, and to commit it to writ-
ing; and, upon being afterwards assured that this was
done, pressed his hands, and in an earnest tone thanked
him. Dr. Brockleshy having attended him with the
utmost assiduity and kindness as his physician and
friend, he was pecuharly desirous that this gentleman
should not entertain any loose speculative notions, but
be confirmed in the truths of Christianity, and insisted
on his writing down in his presence, as nearly as he
could collect it, the import of what passed on the sub-
ject : and Dr. Brocklesby having complied with the
request, he made him sign the paper, and urged him
to keep it in his own custody as long as he lived.
Johnson, with that native fortitude, which, amidst
all his bodily distress and mental sufferings, never
forsook him, asked Dr. Brocklesby, as a man in whom
he had confidence, to tell him plainly whether he
could recover. " Give me (said he) a direct answer."
The Doctor having first asked him if he could bear
the whole truth, which way soever it might lead, and
being answered that he could, declared that, in his
opinion, he could not recover without a miracle.
" Then, (said Johnson,) I vvill take no more phxsick,
not even my opiates ; for I have prayed that 1 may
render up my soul to God unclouded." In this reso-
lution he persevered, and, at the same time, used only
the weakest kinds of sustenance. Being pressed by
Mr. Windham to take somewhat more generous nour-
ishment, lest too low a diet should have'the very eflfect
which he dreaded, by debilitating his mind, he said,
" 1 will take any thing but inebriating sustenance."
The Reverend Mr. Strahan, who was the son of his
friend, and had been always one of his great favourites,
had, during his last illness, the satisfa^^tion of contrib-
uting to soothe and comfort him. That gentleman's
house, at Islington, of which he is Vicar, afforded
Johnson, occasionally and easily, an agreeable change
DR. JOHNSON. 48$
of place and fresh air ; and he attended also upon him »784.
in town in the discharge of the sacred offices of his ^J^
profession. 75.
Mr. Strahan has given me the agreeable assurance,
that, after being in much agitation, Johnson became
quite composed, and continued so till his death.
Dr. Brockiesby, who will not be suspected of fanati-
cism, obliged me with the following accounts :
" For some time before his death, all his fears were
calmed and absorbed by the prevalence of his faith, and
his trust in the merits and propitiation of Jesus
Christ.
" He talked often to me about the necessity of faith
in the sacrifice of Jesus, as necessary beyond all good
works whatever, for the salvation of mankind.
" He pressed me to study Dr. Clarke and to read
his Sermons. 1 asked him why he pressed Dr. Clarke,
an Arian.^ ' Because, (said he,) he is fullest on the
propitiatorif sacrifice"
Johnson having thus in his mind the true Christian
scheme, at once rational and consolatory, uniting justice
and mercy in the Divinity, with the improvement of
human nature, previous to his receiving the Holy
Sacrament in his apartment, composed and fervently
uttered this prayer :*
" Almighty and most merciful Father, I am now as
to human eyes it seems, about to commemorate, for
the last time, the death of thy Son Jesus Christ, our
Saviour and Redeemer. Grant, O Lord, that my
whole hope and confidence ma\'^ be in his merits, and
thy mercy ; enforce and accept my imperfect repent-
' The change of his sentiments with regard to Dr. Clarke, is thus mentioned to
me in a letter from the late Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, Oxford.—
" The Doctor's prejudices were the strongest, and certainly in another sense the
weakest, that ever possessed a sensible man. You know his extreme zeal for or-
thodoxy. But did you ever hear what he told me himself ? That he had made
it a rule not to admit Dr. Clarke's name in his Dictionary. This, however, wore
off. At some distance of time he advised with me what books he should read in
defence of the Christian Religion. I recommened ' Clarke's Evidences of Natural
and Revealed Religion,' as the best of the kind ; and I find in what is called his
' Prayers and Meditations,' that he was frequently employed in the latter part of
his time in reading Clarke's Sermons."
The Reverend Mr. Strahan took care to have it preserved, and has inserted it
in " Prayers and Meditations," p. 216.
VOL, III. 62
490 THE LIFE OF
1784. ance ; make this commemoration available to the con-
^^ firmation of my faith, the establishment of my hope,
75. ' and the enlargement of my charity ; and make the
death of thy Son Jesus Christ effectual to my re-
demption. Have mercy upon me, and pardon the
multitude of my offences. Bless my friends ; have
mercy upon all men. Support me, by thy Holy Spirit,
in the days of weakness, and at the hour of death ; and
receive me, at my death, to everlasting happiness, for
the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen."
Having, as has been already mentioned, made his
will on the 8th and 9th of December, and settled al!
his worldly aflPairs, he languished till Monday, the 13th
of that month, when he expired, about seven o'clock in
the evening, with so little apparent pain that his attend-
ants hardly perceived when his dissolution took place.
Of his last moments, my brother, Thomas David,
has furnished me with the following particulars :
" The Doctor, from the time that he was certain his
death was near, appeared to be perfectly resigned, was
seldom or never fretful or out of temper, and often said
to his faithful servant, who gave me this account,
' Attend, Francis, to the salvation of your soul, which
is the object of greatest importance :' he also explain-
ed to him passages in the scripture, and seemed to
have pleasure in talking upon religious subjects.
"On Monday, the 13th of December, the day on
which he died, a Miss Morris, daughter to a particular
friend of his, called, and said to Francis, that she beg-
ged to be permitted to see the Doctor, that she might
earnestly request him to give her his blessing. Francis
went into his room, followed by the young lady, and
delivered the message. The Doctor turned himself in
the bed, and said, ' God bless you, my dear !' These
were the last words he spoke. — His difficulty of breath-
ing increased till about seven o'clock in the evening,
when Mr. Barber and Mrs. Desmoulins, who were
sitting in the room, observing that the noise he made
in breathing had ceased, went to the bed, and found
he was dead."
DR. JOHNSON. 49i
About two days after his death, the following very 1784.
agreeable account was communicated to Mr. Malone, ^^,
in a letter by the Honourable John Byng, to whom 1 75.
am much obliged for granting me permission to intro-
duce it in my work.
" DEAR SIR,
" Since I saw you, I have had a long conversa-
tion with Cawston,^ who sat up with Dr. Johnson,
from nine o'clock on Sunday evening, till ten o'clock
on Monday morning. And, from what I can gather
from him, it should seem, that Dr. Johnson was per-
fectly composed, steady in hope, and resigned to
death. At the interval of each hour, they assisted
him to sit up in his bed, and move his legs, which
were in much pain ; when he regularly addressed him-
self to fervent prayer ; and though, sometimes, his
voice failed him, his sense never did, during that time.
The only sustenance he received, was cyder and water-
He said his mind was prepared, and the time to his
dissolution seemed long. At six in the morning, he
enquired the hour, and, on being informed, said that
all went on regularly, and he felt he had but a few
hours to live.
*' At ten o'clock in the morning, he parted from
Cawston, saying, ' You should not detain Mr. Wind-
ham's servant : — I thank you ; bear my remembrance
to your master.' Cawston says, that no man could
appear more collected, more devout, or less terrified
at the thoughts of the approaching minute.
" This account, which is so much more agreeable
than, and somewhat different from, yours, has given us
the satisfaction of thinking that that great man died as
he lived, full of resignation, strengthened in faith, and
joyful in hope."
A few davs before his death, he had asked Sir John
Hawkins, as one of his executors, where he should be
buried ; and on being answered, " Doubtless, in West-
minster-Abbey," seemed to feel a satisfaction, very
i Servant to the Right HoDOurable William Windham.
492 THE LIFE OF
1784. natural to a Poet ; and indeed in my opinion very
^"^ natural to every n^an of any imagination, who has no
75. family sepulchre in which he can be laid with his
fathers. Accordingly, upon Monday, December 20,
his remains were deposited in that noble and renowned
edifice ; and over his grave was placed a large blue
flag-stone, with this inscription :
" Samuel Johnson, LL. D.
" Obiit XIII die Decembris^
" Anno Domini
" M. DCC. LXXXIV.
" JEtatis suce lxxv."
His funeral was attended by a respectable number of
his friends, particularly such of the members of The
Literary Club as were then in town ; and was also
honoured with the presence of several of the Reverend
Chapter of Westminster. Mr. Burke, Sir Joseph Banks,
^Ir. Windham, Mr. Langton, Sir Charles Bunbury, and
Mr. Colman, bore his pall. His school-fellow, Dr. Tay-
lor, performed the mournful office of reading the burial
service.
I trust, I shall not be accused of affectation, when I
declare, that I find myself unable to express all that I
felt upon the loss of such a " Guide, Philosopher, and
Friend."^ I shall, therefore, not say one Avord of my
own, but adopt thoi:e of an eminent friend,^ which he
" On the subject of Johnson I may adopt the words of Sir John Harrington,
concerning his venerable Tutor and Diocesan, Dr. John Still, Bishop of Bath and
Wells ; " who hath given me some helps, more hopes, all encouragements in
my best studies : to whom I never came but I grew more religious ; from whom
I never went, but I parted better instructed. Of him therefore, my acquaintance,
my friend, my instructor, if I speak much, it were not to be marvelled ; if I speak
frankly, it is not to be blamed ; and though I speak partially, it were to be par-
doned." Nuga Antiijute, Vol. I. p. 136. There is one circumstance in Sir John's
character of Bishop Still, which is peculiarly applicable to Johnson ; " He became
so famous a disputer, tliat tlie learnedest were even afraid to dispute with him :
and he finding his own strength, could not stick to warn them in their arguments
to take heed to their answers, hke a i)erfect fencer that will tell aforehand in which
button he will give the venew, or hke a cunning chess-player that will appoint
aforehand with which pawn and in what place he will give the mate." Jbid.
[The late Right Hon. William Gerard Hamilton, who had been intimately
acquainted with Dr. Johnson near thirty years. He died in London, July 16,
1796, in his 69th or 70tb year. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 493
Uttered with an abrupt felicity, superiour to all studied *784.
compositions : — " He has made a chasm, which not ^'^
only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a ten- 75. '
dency to fill up. — Johnson is dead. — Let us go to the
next best : — there is nobody ; no man can be said to
put you in mind of Johnson."
As Johnson had abundant homage paid to him dur-
ing his life,^ so no writer in this nation ever had such
8 Beside the Dedications to him by Dr. Goldsmith, the Reverend Dr. Franklin,
and the Reverend Mr. Wilson, which I have mentioned according to their dates,
there was one by a lady, of a versification of " Aningait and Ajut," and one by the
ingenious Mr. Walker, of his " Rhetorical Grammar." I have introduced into this
work several compliments paid to him in the writings of his contemporaries ; but
the number of them is so great , that we may fairly say that there was almost a
general tribute.
Let me not be forgetful of the honour done to him by Colonel Myddleton, of
Gwaynynog, near Denbigh ; who, on the banks of a rivulet in his park, where
Johnson delighted to stand and repeat verses, erected an urn with the following
Inscription :
" This spot was often dignified by the presence of
" Samuel Johnson, JLX. D.
" Whose moral writings, exactly conformable to the precepts of Christianity,
" Gave ardour to Virtue and confidence to Truth."
As no inconsiderable circumstance of his fame, we must reckon the extraordina-
ry zeal of the artists to extend and perpetuate his image. I can enumerate a bust
by Mr. Nollekens, and the many casts which are made from it ; several pictures
by Sir Joshua Reynolds, from one of which, in the possession of the Duke of Dorset,
Mr. Humphrey executed a beautiful miniature in enamel ; one by Mrs. Frances
Reynolds, Sir Joshua's sister : one by Mr. ZofFanij ; and one by Mr. Opie ; and
the following engravings of his portrait : 1 . One by Cooke, from Sir Joshua, for
the Proprietors' edition of his folio Dictionary.— 2. One from ditto, by ditto, for
their quarto edition. — 3. One from Opie, by Heath, for Harrison's edition of his
Dictionary. — 4. One from Nollekens' bust of him, by Bartolozzi, for Fielding's
quarto edition of his Dictionary. — 5. One small, from Harding, by Trotter, for
his " Beauties." — 6. One small, from Sir Joshua, by Trotter, for his " Lives of the
Poets."— 7. One small, from Sir Joshua, by Hall, for " The Rambler." — 8. One
small, from an original drawing, in the possession of Mr. John Simco, etched by
Trotter, for another edition of his " Lives of the Poets." — 9. One small, no painter's
name, etched by Taylor, for his Johnsoniana. - 10. One folio whole-length, with
his oak-stick, as described in Boswell's " Tour," drawn and etched by Trotter. —
1 L One large mezzotinto, from Sir Joshua, by Doughty. — 1 2. One large Roman
head, from Sir Joshua, by Marchi.— 13. One octavo, holding a book to his eye,
from Sir Joshua, by Hall, for his works. — 14. One small, from a drawing from
the life, and engraved by Trotter, for his Life published by Kearsley. — 15. One
large, from Opie, by Mr. Townley, (brother of Mr. Townley, of the Commons)
an ingenious artist, who resided some time at Berlin, and has the honour of being
engraver to his Majesty the King of Prussia. This is one of the finest mezzotintos
that ever was executed ; and what renders it of extraordinary value, the plate
was destroyed after four or five impressions only were taken off. One of them
is in the possession of Sir William Scott. Mr. Townley has lately been prevailed
with to execute and publish another of the same, that it may be more generally
circulated among the admirers of Dr. Johnson. — 1 6. One large, from Sir Joshua's
first picture of him, by Heath, for this work, in quarto. — 17. One octavo, by
Baker, for the ectavo editiflo.-»18. And one for « Lavater's Essays on Physiog-
494r THE LIFE OF
1784. an accumulation of literary honours after his death. A
2^ sermon upon that event was preached in St. Mary's
75. church, Oxford, before the University, by the Reverend
Mr. Agutter, of Magdalen College. » The Lives, the
Memoirs, the Essays, both in prose and verse, which
have been published concerning him, would make many
volumes. The numerous attacks too upon him, 1 con-
sider as part of his consequence, upon the principle
which he himself so well knew and asserted. Many
who trembled at his presence, were forward in assault,
when they no longer apprehended danger. When one
of his little pragmatical foes was invidiously snarling at
his fame, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's table, the Reverend
Dr. Parr exclaimed, with his usual bold animation,
" Ay, now that the old lion is dead, every ass thinks
he may kick at him."
A monument for him, in Westminster- Abbey, was
resolved upon soon after his death, and was supported
by a most respectable contribution ; but the Dean and
Chapter of St. Paul's having come to a resolution of
admitting monuments there, upon a liberal and magnifi-
cent plan, that Cathedral was afterwards fixed on, as
the place in which a cenotaph should be erected to his
memory : and in the cathedral of his native city of Lich-
field, a smaller one is to be erected.' To compose his
nomy," in which Johnson's countenance is analysed upon the principles of that
fanciful writer. — There are also several seals with his head cut on them, particu-
larly a very fine one by that eminent artist, Edward Burch, Esq. R. A. in the pos-
session of the younger Dr. Charles Bumey.
Let me add, as a proof of the popularity of his character, that there are cop-
per pieces struck at Birmingham, with his head impressed on them, which pass
current as half-pence there, and in the neighbouring parts of the country.
' It is not yet published. — In a letter to me, Mr. Agutter says, " My sermon
before the University was more engaged with Dr. Johnson's moral than his intel-
lectual character. It particularly examined his fear of death, and suggested sev-
eral reasons for the apprehensions of the good, and the indifference of the infidel in
their last hours ; this was illustrated by contrasting the death of Dr. Johnson and
Mr. Hume : the text was Job xxi. 22 — 26."
' [This monument has been since erected. It consists of a Medallion, with a
tablet beneath, on which is this inscription :
" The friends of Samuel Johnson, LL. D.
" A Native of Lichfield,
" Erected this Monument,
" As a tribute of respect
" To the Memory of a man of extensive learning,
■' A distinguished moral writer, and a sincere Christian,
" He died Dec 13, 1784, aged 75. M.]
DR. JOHNSON. 495
epitaph, could not but excite the warmest competition ^84.
of genius."^ If laudari a laudato viro be praise which ^^
is highly estimable, I should not forgive myself were I 75. '
to omit the following sepulchral verses on the authour
of The English Dictionary, written by the Right
Honourable Henry Flood :^
^ The Reverend Dr. Parr, on being requested to undertake it, thus expressed
himself in a letter to William Seward, Esq.
" I leave this mighty task to some hardier and some abler writer. The variety
and splendour of Johnson's attainments, the peculiarities of his character, his pri-
vate virtues, and his literary publications, fill me with confusion and dismay,
when I reflect upon the confined and diflScult species of composition, in which
alone they can be expressed, with propriety, upon his monument."
But I understand that this great scholar, and warm admirer of Johnson, has
yielded to repeated solicitations, and executed the very difficult undertaking.
[Dr. Johnson's Monument, consisting of a Colossal Figure leaning against a
column, (but not very strongly resembling him,) has since the death of our au-
thour been placed in St. Paul's Cathedral, having been first opened to publick
view, Feb. 23, 1796. The Epitaph was written by the Rev. Dr. Parr, and is as
follows :
A gg XI
SAMVELI • lOHNSON
GRAMMATICO • ET • CRITICO
SCRIPTORVM • ANGLICORVM • LITTERATE • PERITO
POETAE • LVMINIBVS • SENTENTIARVM
ET • PONDERIBVS • VERBORVM • ADMIRABILI
MAGISTRO • VIRTVTIS • GRAVISSIMO
HOMINI • OPTIMO • ET • SINGVLARIS • EXEMPLI
QVI • VIXIT • ANN • txxv • MENS • il. • DIEB • xiiil
DECESSIT • IDIB ■ DECEMBR • ANN • CHRIST • da • Idcc • lxxxiiiI
SEPVLT • IN • AED • SANCT • PETR • WESTMONASTERIENS.
xiil • KAL • lANVAR • ANN • CHRIST • cId • locc • lxxxv
AMICI • ET • SODALES • LITTERARII
PECVNIA • CONLATA
H • M • FACIVND • CV RAVER.
On a scroll in his hand are the following words :
ENMAKAPESSinONnNANTASIOSEIHAIklOIBH
On one side of the monument —
Faciebat Johannes Bacon Scvlpeor Ann. Christ, m.dcc.i.xxxxv.
The Subscription for this monument, which cost eleven hundred guineas, was
begun by the Literary Club, and completed by the aid of Dr. Johnson's other
friends and admirers. M.]
^ To prevent any misconception on this subject, Mr. Malone, by whom these
lines were obligingly communicated, requests me to add the following remark :
" In justice to the late Mr. Flood, now himself wanting, and highly meriting,
an epitaph from his country, to which his transcendent talents did the highest hon-
our, as well as the most important service ; it should be observed, that these Unes
were by no means intended as a regular monumental inscription for Dr. Johnson.
Had he undertaken to write an appropriated and discriminative epitaph for that
excellent and extraordinary man, those who knew Mr. Flood's vigour of mind, will
496 THE LIFE OP
1784. " No need of Latin or of Greek to grace
" Our Johnson's memory, or inscribe his grave ,-
" His native language claims this mournful space,
" To pay the immortality he gave."
The character of Samuel Johnson has, I trust,
been so developed in the course of this work, that
they who have honoured it with a perusal, may be
considered as well acquainted with him. As, however,
it may be expected that 1 should collect into one view
the capital and distinguishing features of this extraor-
dinary man, I shall endeavour to acquit myself of that
part of my biographical undertaking,* however ditficult
it may be to do that vvhich many of my readers will do
better for themselves.
His figure was large and well formed, and his coun-
tenance of the cast of an ancient statue ; yet his
appearance was rendered strange and somewhat un-
couth, by convulsive cramps, by the scars of that dis-
temper which it was once imagined the royal touch
could cure, and by a slovenly mode of dress. He had
the use only of one eye ; yet so much does mind govern
and even supply the deficiency of organs, that his visual
perceptions, as far as they extended, were uncommonly
quick and accurate. So morbid was his temperament,
that he never knew the natural joy of a free and vigor-
ous use of his limbs : when he walked, it was like the
struggling gait of one in fetters ; when he rode, he had
no command or direction of his l^orse, but was carried
as if in a balloon. That with his constitution and
habits of life he should have lived seventy-five years,
liave no doubt that he would have produced one worthy of his illustrious subject.
But the fact was merely this : In Dec. 1789, after a large subscription had been
made for Dr. Johnson's monument, to which Mr. Flood liberally contributed, Mr.
Malone happened to call on him at his house, in Berners-street, and the conver-
sation turning on the proposed monument, Mr. Malone maintained that the epi-
taph, by whomsoever it should be written, ought to be in Latin. Mr. Flood
thought differently. The next morning, in the postscript to a note on another
subject, he mentioned that he continued of the same opinion as on the preceding
day, and subjoined the lines above given."
^ As I do not see any reason to give a different character of my illustrious
friend now, from what I formerly gave, the greatest part of the sketch of him in
my " Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," is here adopted.
DR. JOHNSON. . 497
is a proof that an inherent vivida vis is a powerful pre- 1784.
servative of the human frame. ^v^
Man IS, in general, made up ot contradictory qual- 75,
ities ; and these will ever shew themselves in strange
succession, where a consistency in appearance at least,
if not reality, has not been attained by long habits of
philosophical discipline. In proportion to the native
vigour of the mind, the contradictory qualities will be
the more prominent, and more difficult to be adjusted ;
and, therefore, we are not to wonder, that Johnson
exhibited an eminent example of this remark which I
have made upon human nature. At different times,
he seemed a different man, in some respects ; not, how-
ever, in any great or essential article, upon which he
had fully employed his mind, and settled certain prin-
ciples of duty, but only in his manners, and in the
display of argument and fancy in his talk. He was
prone to superstition, but not to credulity. Though
his imagination might incline him to a belief of the
marvellous and the mysteri(^us, his vigorous reason
examined the evidence with jealousy. He was a sin-
cere and zealous Christian, of high Church-of-England
and monarchical principles, which he would not tamely
suffer to be questioned ; and had, perhaps, at an early
period, narrowed his mind somewhat too much, both
as to religion and politicks. His being impressed with
the danger of extreme latitude in either, though he was
of a very independent spirit, occasioned his appearing
somewhat unfavourable to the prevalence of that noble
freedom of sentimrnt which is the best possession of
man. Nor can it be denied, that he had many preju-
dices ; which, however, frequently suggested many of
his pointed sayings, that rather shew a playfulness of
fancy than any settled malignity. He was steady and
inflexible in maintaining the obligations of religion and
morality ; both from a regard for the order of society,
and from a veneration for the Great Source of all
order ; correct, nay stern in his taste ; hard to please,
and easily offended ; impetuous and irritable in his
temper, but of a most humane and benevolent heart,^
> In the Olla Podrida, a collection of Essays published at Oxford, there is an adr
VOJ,. III. 63
498 IHE LIFE Ot
J 784. which shewed itself not only in a most liberal charity,
^J^ as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a thou-
75. sand instances of active benevolence. He was afflicted
with a bodily disease, which made him often restless
and fretful ; and with a constitutional melancholy, the
clouds of which darkened the brightness of his fancy,
and gave a gloomy cast to his whole course of think-
ing: we, therefore, ought not to wonder at his sallies
of impatience and passion at any time ; especially
when provoked by obtrusive ignorance, or presuming
petulance ; and allowance must be made for his utter-
ing hasty and satirical sallies even against his best
friends. And, surely, when it is considered, that,
*' amidst sickness and sorrow,'* he exerted his faculties
in so many works for the benefit of mankind, and par-
ticularly that he achieved the great and admirable
Dictionary of our language, we must be astonished
at his resolution. The solemn text, "of him to whom
much is given, much will be required," seems to have
been ever present to his mind, in a rigorous sense, and
to have made him dissatisfied with his labours and acts
of goodness, however comparatively great ; so that the
unavoidable consciousness of his superiority was, in
that respect, a cause of disquiet. He suffered so much
from this, and from the gloom which perpetually
haunted him, and made solitude frightful, that it may
be said of him, " If in this life only he had hope, he
was of all men most miserable." He loved praise,
when it was brought to him ; but was too proud to
seek for it. He was somewhat susceptible of flattery.
As he was general and unconfined in his studies, he
cannot be considered as master of any one particular
science ; but he had accumulated a vast and various
collection of learning and knowledge, which was so
arranged in his mind, as to be ever in readiness to be
brought forth. But his superiority over other learned
men consisted chiefly in what may be called the art of
piirable paper upon the character of Johnson, written by the Reverend Dr. Home,
the last excellent Bishop of Norwich. The following passage is eminently happy :
— "• To reject wi^,dom, because the person of him who communicates it is uncouth,
and his manners are inelegant ; — what is it, but to throw away a pine-apple, and
aesign for a reason the roughness of its coat .•'
DR. JOHNSON. 499
thinking, the art of using his mind ; a certain continual 1784.
power of" seizing the useful substance of all that he ^^
knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and forcible manner ; 75.
so that knowledge, which we often see to be no better
than lumber in men of dull understanding, was, in him,
true, evident, and actual wisdom. His moral precepts
are practical ; for they are drawn from an intimate ac-
quaintance with human nature. His maxims carry
conviction ; for they are founded on the basis (jf com-
mon sense, and a very attentive and minute survey of
real life. His mind was so full of imagery, that he
might have been perpetually a poet ; yet it is remark-
able, that, however rich his prose is in this respect, his
poetical pieces, in general, have not much of that splen-
dour, but are rather distinguished by strong sentiment,
and acute observation, conveyed in harmonious and
energetick verse, particularly in heroick couplets.
Though usually grave, and even aweful in his deport-
ment, he possessed uncommon and peculiar powers of
wit and humour ; he frequently indulged himself in
colloquial pleasantry ; and the heartiest merriment was
often enjoyed in his company ; with this great advan-
tage, that it was entirely free from any poisonous tinc-
ture of vice or impiety, it was salutary to those who
shared in it. He had accustomed himself to such ac-
curacy in his common conversation,- that he at all
" Though a perfect resemblance of Johnson is not to be found in any age, parts
of his character are admirably expressed by Clarendon, in dra-wing that of Lord
Falkland, whom the noble and masterly historian describes at his seat near Ox-
ford : — " Such an immenseness of wt, such a sohdity of judgement, so infinite a
fancy, bound in by a most logical ratiocination.— His acquaintance was cultivated
by the most polite and accurate men, so that his house was an University in less
volume, whither they came, not so much for repose as study, and to examine and
refine those grosser propositions, wliich laziness and consent made current in con-
versation."
Bayle's account of Menage may also be quoted as exceedingly applicable to the
great subject of this work. — " His illustrious friends erected a very glorious mon-
ument to him in the collection entitled Menagiana. Those who judge of things
aright, will confess that this collection is very proper to shew the extent of
genius and learning which was the character of Menage. And I may be bold to
say, that the excellent ivorks be published luill not distinvuish him from other learned tnen
io advantageously as this. To publish books of great learning, to make Greek and
Latin verses exceedingly well turned, is not a common talent, I own ; neither is
it extremely rare. It is incomparably more difficult to find men who can furnish
discourse about an infinite number of things, and who can diversify them an
hundred ways. How many authours are there, who are admired for their works,
on account of the vast learning that is displayed in them, who are jjot able to
oOO THE LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON.
1784. times expressed his thoughts with great force, and an
^j^ elegant choice of language, the effect of which was
75. aided by his having a loud voice, and a slow deliberate
utterance. In him were united a most logical head
with a most fertile imagination, which gave him an
extraordinary advantage in arguing : for he could rea-
son close or wide, as he saw best for the moment.
Exulting in his intellectual strength and dexterity, he
could, when he pleased, be the greatest sophist that
ever contended in the lists of declamation ; and, from
a spirit of contradiction, and a delight in shewing his
powers, he wotdd often maintain the wrong side with
equal warmth and ingenuity ; so that, when there was
an audience, his real opinions could seldom be gathered
from his talk ; though when he was in company with
a single friend, he would discuss a subject with genuine
fairness ; but he was too conscientious to make errour
permanent and pernirious, by deliberately writing it ;
and, in all his numerous works, he earnestly inculcated
what appeared to him to be the truth ; his piety being
constant, and the ruling principle of all his conduct.
Such was Samuel Johnson, a man whose talents,
acquirements, and virtues, were so extraordinary, that
the more his character is considered, the more he will
be regarded by the present age, and by posterity, with
admiration and reverence.
sustain a conversation. Those who know Menage only by his books, might
think he resembled those learned men : but if you shew the Menagiana, you
distinguish him from them, and make him known by a talent which is gfivea
to very few learned men. There it appears that he was a man who spoke off-
hand a thousand good things. His memory extended to what was ancient and
modern ; to the court and to the city ; to the dead and to the living languages ;
to things serious and things jocose ; in a word, to a thousand sorts of subjects.
That which appeared a trifle to some readers of the Mena^riana, who did not con-
sider circumstances, caused admiration in other readers, who minded the difTer-
ence between what a man speaks without preparation, and that which he pre-
pares for the press. And, therefore, we cannot sufficiently commend the care
which his illustrious friends took to erect a monument so capable of giving him
immortal glory. They were not obliged to rectify what they had heard him say ;
for, in so doing, they had not been faithful historians of his conversation."
INDEX
ABERCROMBIE, JAMES, Esq. of Philadelphia, his communi-
cations concerning Dr. Johnson, vol. ii. p. 55.
Abingdon, Lord, bon-mot of, iii. 133.
Abington, Mrs. ii. 151, 154, 157-
Abjuration, oath of, ii. 152.
Absentees from their estates, how far justifiable, ii. 427, 428, 487.
Abyssinia, see Lobo, Rasselas.
Academy, Royal, instituted, i. 440.
Action in publick speaking, ii. 59.
Actors, i. J 36, 137, 159, 456 ; ii. 77, 217, 268, 433 ; iii. 146,
339, 340.
Adams, Rev. Dr. i. 8, 52, 53, 62, 63, 107, 109, 144, 150, 157,
206, 207, 208, 224 ; ii. 251 ; iii. 378, 388, 389, 455.
Adams, Miss, iii. 378, 383.
Addison, Johnson's opinion of, i. 202, 333 ; ii. 169, 312 ; iii. 52.
. - - — his style compared with Johnson's, i. 202.
----- Johnson's Life of, iii. 181, 216.
Adye, Miss Mary, i. 36 ; ii. 270 ; iii. 112.
'Adventurer,' Hawkesworth's, i. 165, 185, 197, 198, 199, 200.
Adultery, i. 432 ; ii. 88 ; iii. 59, 60.
JEgri Mphemens, Johnson's, iii. 460.
Agar, W. E. Esq. ii. 374, n.
Agutter, Rev. Mr. his sermon on Johnson's death, iii. 494.
Agriculture, i. 241.
Akenside's Poetry, ii. 20, 301.
_ . - his early friendship with Charles Townshend, ii. 280.
Akerman, Mr. Keeper of Newgate, character and anecdotes of,
128, 129.
Alchymy, ii. 193
' Aleppo, Siege of,' a tragedy, ii. 495.
Alfred, i. 144.
.his WiU, iii. 251.
Allen, Mr. the printer, i. 366 ; ii. 503 ; iii. 4^3, 458.
Johnson's letter to, iii. 326.
America and Americans, ii. 129, 130, 145, 146, 147, 449, 450 ',
iii. 12, 157, 208.
VOL, III. 64
i02 INDEX.
Amyat, Dr. his anecdote of Dr. Johnson, i. 297-
A'.derson, Professor, at Glasgow, ii. 375.
Angeloni's letters, iii. 232.
Angels, iii. 382.
^ntbologia, iii. 463.
Antiquities, study of, iii. 11 4.
Arbuthnot, iii. 333.
Argyle, Archibald, Duke of, iii. 334.
Armorial bearings, as ancient as the Siege of Troy, ii. 32;
Armstrong, Dr. i. 275, n ; ii. 373.
Arnold, Dr. on insanity, ii. 426.
Articles, thirty-nine, i. 465 ; ii. 10.
Ascham, Roger, Johnson's Life of, i. 363.
Ash, John, M. D. founder of the Eumelian Club, iii. 472.
Ashbourne, mistress of an inn there, ii. 451.
Astle, Thomas, Esq. iii. 250.
Rev. Mr. iii. 399.
Aston, Molly, i. 68 ; iii. 53, 186, «.
Mrs. her maiden sister, ii. 389 ; iii. 112.
Athol porridge, iii. 206.
Atterbury, Bishop, his funeral sermon on Lady Cutts, ii. 470.
Attornies, Johnson's notion of them, i. 486.
Avarice, iii. 37-
Auchinleck, Lord, (the Authour's father) ii. 226.
. place of, ii. 224.
Authours, of deciding on their MSS. ii. 44, 494 ; iii. 35, 36, 81.
- - . of their writing for profit, ii. 414.
-..-._ respect due to them, iii. 28, 233. See Books.
_ should put as much into their books as they will hold, ii. 79-
_..-.- had better be attacked than unnoticed, iii. 82.
Authour, the young, (Johnson's poem,) i. 49.
Authourship, iii. 46.
B.
Bacon, Lord Verulam, ii. 440, 441.
_ - . _ his rules for conversation, iii. 334*
Badcock, Rev. Mr. iii. 483.
Bagshaw, Rev. Thomas, ii. 98, n.
. - . Johnson's letters to, ii. 98 ; iii. 431.
Baker, Sir George, iii. 435.
Ballads, (ancient) ii. 60.
Balloons, iii. 437.
Ballovv, Thomas, Esq. (the lawyer,) ii. 294.
Baltick, Johnson's proposed expedition to the, ii. 391.
Banks, Sir Joseph's Epigram on his Goat, ii. 3.
- - - - his Voyages, ii. 7.
Barber, Mr. Francis, i. 187, 189, 275, 437 ; ii. 6 ; iii. 47S.
- - - - Johnson's letters to him, i. 475, 476.
Barclay, Mr. the young authour, i. 388.
INDEX. 503
Barclay, Mr. one of Mr. Thrale's successors, iii. 236.
Baretti, Joseph, i. 238, 278, 285, 433 ; ii. 256, 424 ; iii. 166.
the first who received copy money in Italy, ii. 415.
his frustra litteraria, ii. 424.
his trial, i. 459.
Johnson's letters to him, i. 285, 292, 299.
Barnard, Rev. Dr. (Bishop of Limerick,) i. 141, 342 ; iii. 233.
Barretier, J. P. Johnson's Life of, i. 120, 121.
Barrington, Hon. Daines, ii. 89 ; iii. 31.
BaiTow, Rev. Dr. his Sennons, iii. 226, n.
Barrowby, Dr. iii. 384.
Barry, Sir Edward, M. D. his notion that pulsation occasions death
by attrition : refuted by Johnson, ii. 303.
James, Esq. (the painter,) Johnson's letter to, iii. 306.
— - his paintings, iii. 323.
Barter, the enthusiast, ii. 20.
Bateman, Edward, Tutor of Christ's Church, his lectures, i. 64.
Bath, Johnson's visit to, ii. 310.
Bathurst, Dr. Richard, i. 148, 153, 191, 197, 199 ; iii. 162, 166.
Baxter, Richard, his works, ii. 94 ; iii. 294, 324.
Anacreon, iii 277, 339, 360.
Bayle's Dictionary, i. 333.
Beech, Thomas, ii. 82, n.
Beattie, Dr. i. 498 ; ii. 5, 102 ; iii. 295.
letter from Johnson to, iii. 131.
Beauclerk, Topham, Esq. i. 194 ; ii. 128 ; iii. 4, 93, 123, 148, 290.
- his violent altercation with Johnson, iii. 88.
his death, iii. 123.
Beauty, manly, described by Shakspeare and Milton, iii. 201.
Beauties of Johnson, i. 171 ; iii. 264.
Bedlam, ii. 192 ; iii. 311.
Beggars, iii. 102, 250.
* Beggars Opera,' ii. 185, 186 ; iii. 36.
Belchier, Surgeon, ii. 319.
Bellamy, Mrs. her letter to Johnson, iii. 341.
Belsham, Mr. his ' Essay on Dramatick Poetry,' i. 306, n.
Bentham, the Rev. Dr. ii. 253.
Bentley, Dr. verses by, iii. 158.
Berenger, Richard, Esq. iii. 215.
Beresford, Mrs. and Miss, iii, 376.
Berkeley, Bishop, i. 367, 490 ; iii. 162.
Berwick, Duke of, his Memoirs, iii. 9.
Bevill, Rev. Mr. his ingenious defence of Hammond, iii. 192, n.
Bewley, Mr. his enthusiastick veneration for Johnson, iii. 251.
Bible, the, should be read with the comments by Lowth, Patrick,
and Hammond, ii. 320.
* Bihliotheca Harle'iana^ i. 124.
Bicknell, Mr. i. 247.
Bickerstaff, Mr. Isaac, i. 451.
* Biddulph, Mios Sydney,' the Novel, i. 306.
504 INDEX.
* Biographia Britannica,' i. 425 ; iii. 368, n.
Biography, remarks on, i. 25, 32, 338 ; ii. 333, 408 ; iii. 476.
Birch, Rev. Dr. Thomas, i. 122, 123, 131, 180.
- - - Johnson's letters to, i. 131, 180, 225.
- - - his letter to Johnson on his Dictionary, i. 225.
Birds, their migration, ii. 89.
Bishops, iii. 372. See Clergy.
Blackfriars Bridge, i. 276.
Black-lcttei books, their value, i. 481.
Blacklock's poetry, i, 364.
Blackmore, Sir Richard, assisted in his ' Creation,' i. 469.
...-.- Johnson's Life of, iii. 84.
Blackstone, Sir William, ii. 176, n. 226, n ; iii. 215.
Blackwall, Anthony, i. 69.
Blagden, Dr. iii. 164.
Blair, Rev. Dr. Hugh, his Sermons, ii. 364, 360, 419, 423 ; iii.
52, 221.
- - - his account of Pope's ' Essay on Man,' iii. 104.
- - - Rev. Robert, authour of the ' Grave,' ii. 312.
- - - Robert, Esq. Solicitor General for Scotland, ii. 312.
Blake, Admiral, Johnson's Life of, i. 120.
Blaney, Ehzabeth, i. 35 ; iii. 452.
Blank verse, i. 335, 484 ; ii. 493 ; iii. 47, 156, 174, 189.
Blenheim Park, ii. 256.
Blue-stocking Club, iii. 228.
Boerhaave, Johnson s Life of, i. 114.
Boetius magis Ph'ilosophus quam Christianas, i. 486. ^
Bolingbroke, Henry St. John, first Viscount, his works, i. 210.
Bolton, Mr. Birmingham, ii. 264.
Bonaventura, i. 389.
Books and Booksellers, ii. 337, 422 ; iii. 8, 373.
Boothby, Miss Hill, some account of, iii. 186, «.
_ . . . . Johnson's letter to, iii. 186, n.
Boscawen, Hon. Mrs. iii. 45.
Boscovitch, Prere, i. 485 ; ii. 219.
Bosville, Godfrey, Esq. iii. 136.
Mrs. ii. 24.
Boswell, (the Authour of this Work.)
introduced to Johnson, i. 307, 309, 310.
his ' Account of Corsica,' i. 425, 434, 442.
- - . . - elected of the Literary Club, ii. 81.
his ' Letter to the People of Scotland,' iii. 285.
.... -his Letter on Fox's India Bill, iii. 354, 356.
For other matters, see, i. 368, 392, 424, 467, 469 ; ii.
61, 224 ; iii. 13, 57, HI, 113, 270.
. ■ - . - Johnson's argument in favour of his trying his fortune in
in London, iii. 430.
. . . - . Johnson's excellent letter to him on his succeeding to his
estate, iii. 270.
INDEX. 505
Boswell, Johnson's other letters to him, i. 369, 390, iO*, 433,
442, 471, 497 ; H. 4, 54, 102, 103, 104, 106, 108, 109,
111, 112, 114, 115, 116, 120, 123, 126, 127, 130, 132,
143, 194, 196, 198, 201, 222, 223, 226, 227, 231, 232,
234, 235, 236, 310, 345, 346, 350, 352, 360, 362, 365,
376, 379, 383, 386, 387, 388, 392, 453, 457, 458, 510 ;
iii. 71, 94, 98, 99, 114, 116, 119, 132, 140, 199, 264,
267, 329, 339, 345, 355, 356, 357, 359, 361, 428, 457,
459.
letters to Johnson from him, i. 406, 434, 497, 498 ; ii. 4,
52, 107, 115, 118, 120, 126, 129, 130, 141, 200, 219,
234, 345, 347, 349, 361, 363, 364, 372, 382, 386, 387,
390, 452, 457, 462, 463, 464, 510 ; iii. 68, 94, 98, 111,
115, 130, 339.
Mrs. ii. 106, 109, 458 ; iii. 116.
Johnson's letters to, ii. 344, 385 ; iii. 272.
her answer, iii. 273.
. Dr. his character of Johnson, ii. 283.
. . _ - - Thomas David, Esq. iii 131, 490.
.... - James, Esq. (the authour's second son,) ii. 287, 506, a.
Veronica, (the authour's eldest daughter,) ii. 387.
Bourchier, Govemour, iii. 212.
Boufflers, Mad. de, ii. 219.
*' Boulter's Monument," a poem, i. 249.
Bowles, WiUiam, Esq. iii. 331.
Bowyer, Printer, his Life, iii. 449.
Boyse, Mr. Samuel, iii. 483, n.
Braithwaite, Daniel, Esq. iii. 372.
Bramhall, Archbishop, his work on Liberty and Necessity, i. 466.
Bribery, i. 171.
Brocklesby, Dr. his kind attention to Johnson, iii. 286, 328, 333,
358, 361, 419, 476, 488.
.... ... Johnson's letters to him, iii. 332, 432.
Brodie, Captain, i. 68 ; ii. 270.
Brown, Mr. Thomas, Johnson's English teacher, i. 40.
- - - - Isaac Hawkins, Esq. ii. 164.
Dr. John, i. 489.
_ - - - Rev. Mr. Robert, of Utrecht, his confutation of Hume,
iii. 11.
- . . . (capabiHty,) iii. 102.
Browne, Sir Thomas, Johnson's Life of, i. 176, 242.
his style, how far imitated by Johnson, i. 176.
Brutes, the hardships suffered by them recompensed by the care of
man, ii. 316.
not endued with reason, ii. 90.
Brutus, a ruffian, i. 306.
Brydone's Tour, iii. 66.
Buchan, Earl of, anecdote of, ii. 30.
Buchanan, i. 358, 459 ; iii. 294.
Buckingham, Catharine, Duchess of, ii. 479.
1
S06 INDEX.
Budgell, Eustace, ii. 312.
Bud worth, Mr. iii. 483, n.
BufFon, remark on, ii. 343, n.
Bunyan's ' Pilgrims Progress,' ii. 80.
Burial Service, iii. 31.5.
Burke, Right Hon. Edmund, anecdotes of, and remarks on, i. 72,
272, 400, 496 ; ii. 256, 339 ; iii. 28, 84, 161, 280, 370,
371, 392, 404, 482, 483.
- . _ . his bon-mots, iii. 38.
- - - - his universal knowledge, iii, 1.55.
the Authour introduced to him, ii. 81.
, - - - his Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol censured by JohnsQUj
ii. 435.
- - - • his * Essay on the Sublime,' &c. i. 4,5.5.
his ' Letters on the affairs of America,' ii. 435.
- - - - Richard, jun. Esq. iii. 319, 320.
Burman, Johnson's Life of, i. 124.
Burnet's History of his own Times, ii. 60.
_ - . . - his Life of Rochester, ii. 439.
Burney, Dr. iii. 74, 295, 464.
- - - - Johnson's letters to him, i. 226, 253, 256, 389 ; iii. 3^
439, 457.
- - - - his Anecdotes of Johnson, i. 257 ; ii. 220 ; iii. 251.
- - - - Mrs. i. 385, n ; iii. 311.
Miss, and her works, iii. 323, 370, 441, 468.
Burrowes, Rev. Robert, remarks and imitations by, iii. 464.
Burton's books, iii. 353.
' Anatomy of Melancholy,' i. 53, 481 ; iii. 250.
Bute, Earl of, i. 294 ; ii. 175 ; iii. 244.
- - - Johnson's letters to, i. 296, 299.
Butler, Dr. ii. 278, 408, 415 ; iii. 476.
Byng, Admiral, i. 487-
- - - - his Epitaph, i. 246. ^
.... Hon. John, his Letter to Mr. Malone, iii. 491.
C.
Callimachus, iii. 143.
Cambridge, Richard Owen, Esq. ii. 184 ; iii. 300, 301,48V.
... University, Johnson's visit to, i. 380.
Camden, Charles, first Lord, iii. 28, 29.
Cameron, Dr. Archibald, i. 119.
Campbell, Hon. Archibald, ii. 63 ; iii. 379.
Dr. John, i. 327, 429 ; ii. 62, 482.
his ' Political Survey,' ii. 254.
- Rev. Dr. Thomas, ii. 164, 167«
Mungo, ii. 436, 437.
Candidates at Elections, instructions for them, ii. 320.
...... Johnson's excellent advice to them, for their conduct
during the contest, iii. 361.
INDEX. 507
Canus Meichior, ii. 206.
Capel's Shakspeare, iii. 145.
Cardon, his method of composing his mind, ii. 426, n.
Careless, Mrs, Johnson's first love, ii. 264.
'Careless Husband,' Comedy of, i. 142.
Carleton, Captain, his ' Memoirs,' iii. 416.
Carlisle, Earl of, iii. 233, 343.
Carte, Thomas, the historian, i. 39-
Carter, Mrs. Elizabeth, i. 101, 113, 161 j ii. 419 ; iii. 220, 370.
Carthusians, ii. 246.
Cathcart, Lord, iii. 58.
Catholicks, see Religion.
Cator, John, Esq. Johnson's Character of him, and his fine seat, iii.
300, 301.
Cattle, extraordinary, ii. 405.
Cave, Mr. Edward, Johnson's Life of, i. 201 ; ii. 31 ; iii. 37, 484.
- - - Johnson's letters to him, i. 75, 88, 99, 100, 101, 102, 111,
112, 113, 126, 128.
Chamberlayne, Rev. Mr. iii. 380.
Chambers, Catharine, i. 266, 423.
Chambers, Ephraim, his proposal for his Dictionary, (probably for
the second edition of it,) and Sir W. Temple's writ-
ings contributed to form Johnson's style, i. 175.
Sir Robert, ii. 99, 102.
_ - . _ - . Johnson's letter to him, i. 214.
— Sir William, iii. 296. — ' Heroick Epistle,' to him approv-
ed by Johnson, iii. 232.
Chamier, Anthony, Esq. i. 373 ; ii. 489.
Chapone, Mrs. i, 161.
- Johnson's, letter to, iii. 344.
Charade, Johnson's on Dr. Barnard, Lord Bishop of Limerick,
iii. 300.
Charlemont, James, first Earl of, iii. 205.
Charles L ii. 187. 7 t t. , • • r
Charles IL ii. 166. j •^°^"'°" ^ °P""°" °^'
Charles V. his celebration of his funeral obsequies in his life time,
ii. 485.
Chastity, ii. 261. See Marriage.
Chatham, Earl of, iii. 403.
Chatterton's Poems, ii. 315.
Chesterfield, Lord, i. 148, 201, 207, 208 ; ii. 59, 157 ; iii. 62, 91;,
285, 415.
his Letters, i. 209 ; ii. 157.
- - - . might be made a pretty book, ii. 316, 317.
. . Johnson's severe letter to him, i. 205.
Cheney's * English Malady,' ii. 298, 345.
Cheynel, Johnson's Life of, i. 182.
Children, i. 41, 352, 462 ; ii. 299, 385. See Education.
----- always cruel, i. 344.
Cholmondeley, Hon. Mrs. ii. 497 ,; iii. 34.
^8 INDEX.
Cholmondelly, George James, Esq. iii. 425.
Christian, Rev. Mr. his solution of a strange fact at St. Kilda, i. 429.
Christian Rehgion, evidence of, i. 313, 335, 362 ; ii. 436 ; iii. 33.-
Churchill's poetry, i. 327.
Churton, Rev. Mr. Ralph, his excellent remarks, iii. 315, 390, n.
Chymistry, iii. 335.
Cibber, Colley, i. 121, 142, 315, 456 ; ii. 165, 333, 432 ; iii. 340.
See George II.
- . - - Theophilus, his ' Lives of the Poets,' i. 151 ; ii. 300, 301.
Clarendon, Lord, continuation of his ' History,' ii. 236.
_ his style, ii. 494.
. - - commendation of, i. 449.
Claret, its inefficacy as viMne, iii. 86.
Clarke, Richard, Esq. Johnson's letter to, iii. 354.
Clarke, Dr. his works, iii. 489.
* Cleone,' Dodsley's, i. 255 ; iii. 156.
« Cleonice,' Hoole's, ii. 125.
Clergy, the, i. 483 ; ii. 27, 83, &c. 394 ; iii. 23, 31, 213, 294,
Clergyman, advice to a young one, iii. 133.
Clerk, Sir P. J. iii. 207.
Climate, contributes to happiness, ii. 44.
Clive, Lord, iii. 102.
Clive, Mrs. the Actress, iii. 146, 340.
Club, Essex-head, iii, 350.
Eumehan, iii, 472.
- - - Literary, see L.
Coachmakers-hall Debating Society, iii. 218.
Cobb, Mrs, iii, 112,
Cock-lane Ghost, i. 319 ; iii. 501.
Colchester, i. 364.
Collections in writing, their use, i. 456.
College Tutor, an old one's advice to one of his pupils relative te
composition, ii, 79,
Collins, the poet, i. 301,
Colman, George, Esq. ii, 150, 162, 352 ; iii. 148.
----- his ♦ Letter from Lexiphanes,' iii. 466.
Combabus, ii. 478.
Commandment, the ninth, i. 137.
Condescension, ii. 279.
Confession, auricular, i. 467 ; iii. 322.
Conge d'elire, iii. 408.
Congreve, his works, i. 452, 459 ; ii. 435.
. . Johnson's Life of, iii, 185.
Rev. Mr. i. 41 ; ii. 265, 277.
* Connoisseur,' the, i. 329.
O'Connor, Charles, Esq. his * Account of Ireland,' i. 251,
- Johnson's letters to, i, 251 ; ii. 368.
Const, Francis, Esq, ii, 289, n.
Controversial writings, ii. 251, 286,
Convents, i. 395.
INDEX. 509
Conversation, ii. 96, 252, 256, 818, 434 ; iii. 52, 294, 295, 296, 334.
Conversation, solid, disagreeable to men of moderate capacity,
because they are left out of company by it, ii. 319.
Converts, i. 467-
Cook, Captain, ii. 283.
Cooper, John Gilbert, Esq. ii. 164 ; iii. 144.
Convocation, the, of the Clergy, i. 362.
Coriat, Tom, ii. 28.
Cork and Orrery, John, Earl of, i. 48? ; ii. 432, 479, 487 ; iii. 31,
154, 285.
Corn laws of Ireland, i. 489.
Corsican language, i. 396, 442, 449.
Cotterell, Misses, i. 193.
Country Gentlemen, ii. 43.
-__------. should visit London with their wives, to acquire
topicks of conversation, ii. 429.
Country life, ii. 490.
Courtship of great men, how far allowable, i. 395 ; ii. 437.
Courtenay, John, Esq. his poem on Johnson's character, i. 55f 177,
247, 272 ; ii. 105.
Coverly, Sir Roger de, ii. 188.
Cowley, Johnson's Life of, ii. 299 ; iii. 170.
the edition of his select works, by Bishop Hurd, ii. 299,
469.
Coxeter, Thomas, Esq. his great collection of English Poetry, ii.
411.
- - - - the Lives of the Poets, by Shields and Cibber, compiled
from his manuscripts, ii. 411, n.
Crabbe, Rev. Mr. his ' Village,' iii. 286.
Cradock, Joseph, Esq. ii. 306.
Craven, Lady, (now Margravine of Anspach,) ii. 294.
Croft, Rev. Herbert, iii. 388, 397.
his ' Life of Young,' iii. 187, 188.
Cromwell, the Usurper, Johnson's design of writing his Life, iii. 333.
Crosbie, Sir Andrew, ii. 143.
Crouch, Mrs. iii. 325.
Crousaz, i. 113, 128.
Cruikshank, Mr. Johnson's letter to, iii. 446, 476.
Cullen, Dr. iii. 359.
Cumberland, Richard, Esq. ii. 310 ; iii. 193, 464.
Curates, the question of raising their salaries discussed, ii. 394,
D.
Dalrymple, Sir John, his Memoirs, ii. 58.
----- Sir David, see Hailes, Lord.
Dalzel, Mr. Professor of Greek at Edinburgh, iii. 464.
Dartineuf, ii. 254.
Davies, Mr. Thomas, character and anecdotes of, i. 306, 307, 437,
438, 457 ; ii. 108, 168, 172, 306, 466, 486 ; iii. 147, 329.
VOL. III. 65
alO INDEX.
Davies, Johnson*s kind letters to, iii. 329, 446.
- - - his ' Memoirs of Garrlck,' iii. 1^1.
Dawkins, , Esq. the traveller, iii. 243.
Deane's * Future Life of Brutes,' i. 430.
Death, reflections on, i. 264, 468 ; iii. 16, 29, 372, 389. See
Johnso?i.
Debts, contracting them, the source of much evil and calamity, iii.
268, 270.
Dedications, Prefaces, Introductions, &c. by Johnson, and remarks
on, i. 130, 142, 146, 153, 201, 248, 273, 289, 302, 389, 409,
424 ; ii. 53, 69, 125, 363, 370, 463.
Defoe, Daniel, ii. 501.
Delany's ' Observation on Swift,* ii. 287-
Dempster, George, Esq. i. 320, 340, 341 ; ii. 137-
Dennis, John, his critical works worth collecting, ii. 307.
Derby, some particulars relating to, ii. 415.
Derrick, Samuel, Esq. i. 303, 310, 354 ; iii. 79, 299, 329-
Desmoulins, Mrs. i. 56, 188 ; ii. 465 ; iii. 490.
Devaynes, John, Esq. iii. 368.
Devil, the first Whig, iii. 40.
- - - his influence upon the souls of men, iii. 382.
Devonshire, Duke of, ii. 434 ; iii. 82.
_ _ _ . - Duchess of, iii. 436.
Diamond, Mr. i. 191.
Dibden, Mr. i. 471.
Dick, Sir Alexander, letters of, ii. 358 ; iii. 357.
- - - Johnson's praise of his liberality as a Scotchman, ii. 384.
Dictionary of the Enghsh Language, Johnson's, i. 147, 148, 149,
150, 346 ; ii. 13, 53, 54, 371 ; iii. 106, 144.
.__.-.---------.--- first pubhshed, i. 231.
_-■__---.---------- epitome of, i. 240.
_..__._._-----.--.- Garrick's epigram on, i 237.
.._-----------.---- Mr. Harris of Salisbury's
praise of, ii. 371.
Dilly, Messrs. ii. 328, 366 ; iii. 236, 248.
Johnson's letters to, ii. 382 ; iii. 97, 353.
Diomed, his father's noble exhortation to him in the Iliad, i. 488.
* Distressed Mother,' Johnson's epilogue to, i. 50.
Dixie, Sir Wolstan, Bart. i. 70.
Dodd, Rev. Dr. ii. 376, 396, 397, 398, 399, 418, 503 ; iii: 4.
- - - Johnson's assistance to him, ii, 396, 399, 400.
- - - Johnson's opinion concerning him, iii. 311.
- - - Johnson's letters to him, ii. 400, 402.
Dodington, George Bubb, Esq. (afterwards Lord Melcombe,) i.
173 ; iii. 189, «.
Dodsley, Robert, i. 103, 207 ; ii. 254, 305 ; iii. 156.
Dogs, do not compare, i. 459.
Dominicetti's baths, i. 461.
Do66ie, Mr. iii. 149, 182,
HNDEX. 511
Douglas, Rev. Dr. (Bishop of Salisbury,) i. 104, 204, 319, 439 ;
iii. 372.
Douglas Cause, i. 428 ; ii. 73.
Drake, Sir Francis, Johnson's Life of, i, 120, 121.
Draughts, game of, i. 248.
Dreams, i. 145.
" Drelincourt on Death," ii. 20.
Drumgould, Colonel, ii. 216.
Drummond, Mr. WiUiam, Johnson's letters to, i. 410, 413, 414.
Dr. ii. 346.
Drunkeness, see IVine.
Dryden, Johnson's Life of, ii. 24, 333 ; iii. 59, 170, 174.
- - - - compared with Pope, i. 392.
- - - - has sometimes a profundity which Pope could never reach,
ii. 452.
- - - - his style easily distinguished from that of others, iii. 4.
- - - - his description of life, iii. 392.
* - - - his character at Will's Coffee-house, ii. 334.
- - - - his lines on Royal patronage, ii. 68.
- - - - his Prologues, ii. 154.
- - - - puzzled himself about predestination, iii. 59.
DueUing, ii. 32, 71 ; iii. 314.
Du Halde's ' Account of China,* i. 432.
Dunbar, Dr. iii. 133.
Dunciad, Pope's, written primarily for fame, ii. 162.
Duncombe, William, Esq. iii. 31.
Dundas, Right Hon. Henry, ii. 456.
Dunning, Mr. his high compliment to Johnson, ii. 480.
Dury, Major-General Alexander, i. 263.
Dyer's ' Farce,' ii. 258.
Dyer, Samuel, Esq. i. 374.
E.
Easter, ii. 112.
Eccles, Rev. Mr. i. 284.
, , Esq. i. 331.
Economy, petty, hardly worth while, iii. 298.
Edinburgh Royal Society transactions, absurd criticism on Johnson
in, iii. 160.
Education, i. 80, 352, 356, 393 ; ii. 220, 247, 287, 420 ; iii. 67,
90, 400.
Johnson of opinion that we ought not to refine too much
in the education of our children, ii. 420.
Edwards, Thomas, Esq. his ' Canons of Criticism,' i. 207.
. . Rev. Dr. Johnson's letter to, iii. 75.
- Mr. (Johnson's fellow Collegian,) anecdotes of, iii. 21, 214.
_ ....-of New England, iii. 12.
Eghntoune, Alexander, Earl of, i. 440 ; ii. 436.
Egotism, ii. 422 ; iii. 38, 39, 120.
512 INDEX.
Eld, Mr. iii. 40.
Elibank, Patrick, Lord, ii. 295, 318 ; iii. 148, 235.
Eliot, Edward, of Port Eliot, (first Lord,) iii. 206, 415.
Elizabeth, Queen of England, rate of learning, iii. 150.
Ellis, Mr. John, ii. 293.
Elphinstone, Mr. James, his edition of * The Rambler,' i. 167.
_--.._ Johnson's letters to, i. 167, 169.
Elwal, the enthusiast, ii. 20, 92.
Emigration, ii. 473.
Emmet, Mrs. the Actress, ii. 268.
English Poets, the selection of them for the general and collected
edition of their works, made by the booksellers, and not by
Johnson, iii. 78.
Entails, ii. 224, 231, 241.
- - - Johnson's letters on, ii. 226, 227, 231, 232, 234.
Envy, i. 422 ; ii. 99 ; iii. 28.
Epilogue to ' The Distressed Mother,' i. 50.
Espiscopacy, iii. 79. See Bishops.
Epitaphs, ii. 220 ; iii. 315, 471.
Essay on, i. 120.
Erasmus, Johnson's opinion of his * Ciceronianus,' iii. 432.
,..--- a passage of his apphed to Johnson, iii. 387, «•
Erskine, Hon. Thomas, ii. 28, 29.
----- Hon. Andrew, both a good poet and a good critick, ii. 405.
Essex-Head Chib. See Club.
' Euyfenio,' a poem, ii. 81.
Eumelian Club. See Club.
European Magazine, i. 285.
Excise, Johnson's definition of, i. 234.
Execution of criminals, iii. 296.
Exhibitions of Paintings, i. 287.
Fable, Sketch of one, by Johnson, ii. 75.
Falconer, Rev. Mr. a Scotch non-juring Bishop, iii. 79^.
* False Alarm ;' see Johison's Political Pamphlets.
* Falkland's Islands,' i. 492, 493 ; ii. 6.
Fame, i. 351 ; ii. 498.
Families, old, respect due to them, ii. II, 100.
Farmer, Rev. Dr. Johnson's letters to, i. 474 ; iii. 125.
Farquhar, in Johnson's opinion, a poet of considerable merit, iii.
146.
Fasting, its effect on one of the Fathers, ii. 246.
Favours unreasonable, i. 290, 291.
Felixmarte of Hircarnia, i. 44.
Females, succession of, see Entail ; Feudal System.
Ferguson, Sir Adam, i. 24.
----- the Astronomer, i. 461.
Feudal System, ii. 31, 52, 100, 228, 240 ; iii. 67. See Entail'.
MDEX. 518
Fiction, real and original, a very small quantity of it in the world,
iii. 334<.
Fielding, compared with Richardson, i. 427.
- ... his works, ii. 28, 309.
Fingal. See Ossian.
Fitzherbert, Mr. ii. 404- ; iii. 90, 162.
Fitzosborne's letters, iii. 368, n.
Flatman's poems, ii. 299.
Fleet-street, i. 359 ; ii. 164, 239 ; iii. 21. See London.
Fleming, Sir Michael le, i. 359.
Flexman, Mr. index-maker, iii. 410.
FHnt, Bet, iii. 224, 225.
Flood, Right Hon. Henry, his bequest to Dublin University, i. 251, n.
- - - his Epitaph on Johnson, iii. 496.
Floyer, Sir John, i. 40 ; iii. 362.
- - - Authour of an excellent book on the Asthma, iii- 362.
Fludyer, Rev. Mr. ii. 253.
Foote, Samuel, anedotes and character of, i. 458, 468 ; ii. 12, 332,
432, 499 ; iii. 323, 370.
Fop, a clerical one, only half a beau, iii. 204.
Foppery, never cured, i. 487-
Forbes, Sir William, ii. 343, 452.
Ford, the Rev. Cornelius, i. 44 ; iii. 62.
Fordyce, Dr. James, i. 311 ; iii. 486.
Forrester, Colonel, ii. 284.
Forster's Voyage to the South Sea, ii. 430.
Fortune-hunters, i. 490.
Forster, Mrs. Ehzabeth, (Milton's grand-daughter,) i. 181.
Fox, Right Hon. Charles James, ii. 496 ; iii. 279, 384.
France, Johnson's visit to, ii. 199.
- - - his Journal there, ii. 204, 205, Sff seq.
- - - the reason assigned why he did not print an account of his
travels there, iii. 20.
- - - his opinion of that countrj^, iii. 63.
Francis's Horace, iii. 66.
Franklin, Rev. Dr. his translation of Lucian's ' Demonax,' and
Dedication to Johnson, iii. 167.
... - Benjamin, his definition of man, ii. 483.
French, Mrs. iii. 178.
French writers, superficial, and why, i. 353.
- - - language, Johnson's knowledge of, i. 450.
- - - their manners and writings, i. 484 ; iii. 63, 152.
Frenchmen use big words for little matters, i. 367.
----- in general know no more than women, ii. 490.
----- their literature, i. 484.
----- a gross ill-bred people, iii. 63, 335.
Frederick III. Johnson's Life of, i. 242.
Friends, and Friendship, i. 192, 236 ; ii. 33 ; iii. 90, 118, 136, 144.
- - - - whether there are any probable grounds for supposing that
they shall know one another in a future state, ii. 18; iii. 29.
fl4 INDEX.
Friendship, departed, i. 169 ; ii. 393 ; iii. 29.
----- one of its greatest pleasures, ii. 55.
an Ode, i. 129.
FuUarton, Colonel, iii. 66.
Future state of man, ii. 18, 445 ; iii. 10, 315.
- - - different degrees of happiness in heaven, i. 394 ; iii. 11.
G.
Gaming, ii. 29, 295.
Ganganelli's letters, iii. 9.
Gardiner, Mrs. i. 191 ; ii. 294 ; iii. 343, 480, tt.
Garrick, David, Esq. anecdotes of, i. 80, 81, 146, 154, 156, 157» 160,
197, 210, 308, 441, 448, 456 ; ii. 71, 74, 77, 154, 155,
267, 268, 315, 332, 333, 493, 398, 499 ; iii. 15, 90,
323.
- - - - his Shakspeare Jubilee, i. 441.
- - - - Johnson's opinion of him, i. 173, 308, 456, 489 ; ii. 42,
71, 154, 193, 248, 268, 303, 315, 332, 333, 433, 498;
iii. 29, 90, 91, 144, 153.
- - - his death, iii. 78.
- - - . Peter, Esq. i. 92 ; ii. 144, 266, 270 ; iii. 112.
Mrs. iii. 219.
Gastrel, Mrs. ii. 273 ; iii. 112.
Gaubins, Professor at Leyden, his criterion of madness, i. 57-
General Warrants, i. 444.
Gay, the Orpheus of highwaymen, ii. 185.
Gentilhomme est toujours Gentilhomme, i. 385.
Gentility, i. 384 ; ii. 165, 166 ; iii. 11.
----- more virtues among the higher classes than among those of
inferiour ranks, iii. 64.
Gentleman's Magazine, i. 94.
Gentlewoman, one born so, always distinguishable, i. 489.
George, I. (King,) ii. 166.
II. i. 119, 120, 167 ; ii. 167-
- - - - III. his accession and cljawcter, i. 278, 286, 294, 424 ;
iii. 127. »
- - - - Johnson's interview with, i. 417, 418, "^'19, 420.
Ghost, i. 318, 319 ; ii. 19,' 20^ 31, 34, 472 ; iii. 17, 60, 61, 96,
217.
Gibbon, Edward, Esq. i. 441, n; ii. 171, 185, 255, 482 ; iii.
201.
- - - - his imitation of Johnson's style, iii. 468.
Gibbons, Dr. iii. 243.
Gillespie, Dr. consulted on Johnson's case, iii. 357*
- - - . Johnson's praise of his opinion, iii. 357.
Gisborne, Dr. his anecdote of Mr. Fitzherbert, ii. 404.
Glow-worm, Johnson's fable of, ii. 75.
his Latin poem on, i. 431.
Gluttony, i. 365.
INDEX. 515
Goldsmith, Dr. Oliver, character of, i. 320, 323, & seq.
anecdotes of, i. 171, 322, 323, 324, 325, 326, 422, 451 ;
ii. 33, 34, 38, 45, 54, 57, 61, 62, 64, 68, 69, 70, 74,
75, 78, 79, 96, 97, 305 ; iii. 148, 162, 286.
. . _ _ . treated by Charles, the first Lord Camden, as an ordinary
man,)ii. 28.
his death, ii. 116, 118.
Johnson's Epitaphs on him, ii. 340, 341, 342.
. . ■ _ - his hon-mots on Johnson, i. 440 ; ii. 75, 76 ; iii. 232.
- _ . - - Johnson's opinions of him and his works, i. 320, 427 ; ii.
22, 34, 45, 179, 305, 419, 485, 489, 490, 504 ; iii.
28, 36, 82, 158, 164.
Good-breeding, perfect, in what it consists, i. 451.
Good Friday, ii. 175, 177, 178 ; iii. 30.
Gordon, Lord George, iii. 126, 212.
Gower, Earl, his letter to Swift, in favour of Johnson, i. 108.
Graham, Lord, iii. 87, 229.
_ . _ . Miss, (now Lady Dashwood,) iii. 108.
Grainger, Dr. his " Sugar Cane," ii. 258, 259.
- - - - his " Ode on Solitude," ii. 443.
Grammar school, Johnson's plan of, i. 82.
Granger, Rev. Mr. his ' Biographical History,' ii. 549.
Granville, John Cateret, Earl, i. 476 ; anedote of, iii. 150.
Grattan, Henry, Esq. his oratory censured, iii. 403.
Gray's poetry, i. 316 ; ii. 20, 155, 156, 162, 301, 306 ; iii. 150.
- - - Dr ii.' 215, «.
Great men not fond of Johnson's company, and why, ii. 234, 235.
Greek, Johnson's knowledge of, iii. 464.
Green, Mr. Richard, of Lichfield, his museum, iii. 111-
- - - letter from Johnson to hiifi, iii. 471.
Greenwich Hospital, i. 358.
Grenville, Right Hon. George, i. 493.
Grierson, Mr. i. 476.
De Groot, a descendant of Grotius, ii. 381.
Grotius, ii. 380.
Grove, Rev. Mr. ii. 302 ; iii. 166.
Guardian to children, instructions relative to the appointment of,/
iii. 101.
Gustavus Adolphus, Harte's Life of, iii. 206.
Guthrie, William, Esq. i. 96, 429 ; iii. 164.
Gwyn, Mr. the architect, ii. 249.
H.
Habeas Corpus, i. 444.
Habits, early, not conquerable without unremitting exertion, ii. 185.
Hackman, Rev. Mr. iii. 88.
Hailes, Lord, his and Johnson's opinion of each other, i. 339, 352 ;
ii. 226.
516 INDEX.
Hailes, his « Annals of Scotland," ii. 115, 116, 120, 128, 161,
196, 197, 200, 223, 232, 319, 376 ; iii. 69, 80, 105.
his opinion on entails, ii. 230.
Hale, Lord Chief Justice, anecdote of, iii. 398.
Hales, Venerable John, his works, iii. 402.
Hale, General, iii. 70.
- - - Mrs. iii. 216.
Hamilton, Right Hon. William Gerard, i. 382 ; iii. 492.
... - _ his kindness to Johnson, iii. 342.
..... Johnson's letters to, iii. 342, 444.
Hamilton's poems, ii. 405.
Hammond, James, authour of the Elegies, iii. 153.
Hanway, Joseph, i. 243, 482.
Happiness, i. 394 ; ii, 316 ; iii. 11. See Life.
----- may be obtained, if we apply our heart to piety, i. 155.
----- the reasonable hope of a happy futurity, the only solid
basis of happiness, iii. 72.
Harleian Miscellany, i. 142.
Harrington, Dr. his * Nugae Antiquae,' iii. 290.
...... Caroline, Countess of, ii. 396.
Harris, James, Esq. of Salisbury, ii. 372, 483, 493, 494.
- - - his high praise of Johnson's Dictionary, ii. 372.
- - - Thomas, Esq. Proprietor of Covent Garden Theatre, ii. 37(?.
Harte's ' History of Gustavus Adolphus,' i. 480 j iii. 206.
Harwood, Rev. Dr. ii. 306.
Hastie. See Schoolmaster.
Hastings, Warren, Esq. character of, iii. 193.
- - - - his letter to the authour, iii. 194.
.... Johnson's letters to, iii. 195, 197-
Hawkesbury, Lord, Johnson's letter to. ii. 400.
-----. his Lordship's high opinion of Johnson, ii. 402.
Hawkesworth, Dr. i. 153.
.-..--. his ' Voyages,' ii. 89.
Hawkins, Sir John, i. 153.
..... remarks on his Life of Johnson, i. 26, 162.
- - - ..contradicted and corrected, i. 103, 115, 133, 162, 165,
183, 185, 190, 227, 243, 264, 325, 415 ; ii. 257 ; iii-
411, 450, 451, 452, 473, 477, 4S2.
----- Rev. Thomas, Poetry Professor at Oxford, ii. 495.
..... Mr. Johnson's first instructor in Latin, ii. 40.
Hay, Lord Charles, iii. 158.
Heard, the word how to be pronounced, ii. 443.
Heberden, Dr. iii. 327, 480.
Hebrides, Johnson s visit to, i. 351, 428, 498 ; ii. 8, 104.
.... Johnson's Tour to them, ii. 104.
- - - - the pleasantest journey he ever made, ii. 351.
- - - - Johnson's Account of his journey, ii. 126, 135, 150, 183,
358, 394, 424 ; iii. 21, 40.
- - - - commended by every body on various grounds, ii. 394.
INDEX. SI 7
Hector, Mr. Edmund, i. 42, 48, 76, 129, 134. ; ii. 261, 263 ; iii.
253, 366, 454.
.... Johnson's letters to, iii. 262, 457.
. - - - Verses on a sprig of Myrtle, written by Johnson for him,
i. 76.
Heely, Mr. and Mrs. i. 414, 450.
Hell, paved with good intentions, ii. 180.
Helmet, hung out formerly, as a sign of hospitality, ii. 506.
Henderson, Mr. John, iii. 379, 388.
----- the Actor, ii. 155, n; iii. 341.
Henry, the Historian, should have confined himself to the history of
ma.nners, iii. 47.
* Hermippus Redivivus,' Campbell's, i. 327-
« Heroick Epistle,' iii. 232, 402.
Hervey, Hon. Henry, i. 87.
.... Hon. Thomas, i. 416.
Hicky, Mr. the painter, ii. 165, 166.
Highwaymen, the question of shooting them discussed, ii. 479.
Higher classes, more virtue found among them, than in inferiour
stations, iii. 64.
Hill, Aaron, Esq. his account of * Irene,' i. 158.
- - - Dr. John, his works, i. 420.
HinchlifFe, Dr. John, Bishop of Peterborough, iii. 122.
History and Historians, i. 333, 449 ; ii. 44, 66, 78, 184, 289 ; iii.
47.
- - - - great abilities not necessary for writing it, i. 333.
- - - - of Manchester, by Whitaker, for the most part a dream, iii.
47. See Henry.
- . _ - of the House of Yvery praised, iii. 303.
Hogarth, i. 119.
Hobdays, ii. 263.
----- none observed in Scotland, ii. 263.
Hollis, Thomas, Esq. iii. 220.
Home, Mr. John, his Parody on Derrick, i. 355.
- - - his proposed History of the rising in 1745, ii, 415.
Homer, Johnson's translations from, i. 48.
- - - - critiques on, ii. 440 ; iii. 44, 46.
Hoole, John, his ' Tasso,' i. 302.
- - - his * Ariosto,' iii. 198.
- - - his * Cleonice,' ii. 125.
- - - Johnson's letters to, ii. 125 ; iii. 438.
- - - curious anecdote of, iii. 295.
- - - his attention to Johnson, iii. 482.
- - - the Rev. Mr. iii. 484.
Hope, life insupportable without, ii. 491.
Hope, Dr. iii. 359.
Horace, Johnson's translations from, i. 46, 47.
- - - - his Odes cannot be perfectly translated, iii. 66.
- - - - translation by Dr. Francis, commended, ibid.
Home, Rev. Dr. ii. 116, 253 ; iii. 497, n.
VOL. III. 66
5li INDEX.
Home Tooke, Mr. John, hi. 65, n.
Hospitality, iii. 154, 322.
promiscuous, does not procure lasting regard, ii. 23.
----- in London, ii. 67-
Houghton Gallery, iii. 416.
House of Commons, iii. 108, 201, 225.
---.---.. . how a Counsel should address that assembly, ii.
466, 467 ; iii. 201.
... - Peers, iii. 57, 58.
Howard, General Sir George, ii. 192.
- - - - the Hon. Edward, a celebrated couplet of his misquoted,
i. 470, n.
Hudibras, ii. 187, 306.
Huggins, Mr. iii. 146.
Hume, David, Esq. his style French, i. 343.
. - - his Scepticism, i. 346, 362, 394 ; ii. 251, 407-
- - - his Life, ii. 375.
- - - his disbelief of a future state, i. 468.
Humphrey, Ozias, Esq. iii. 364, 365.
Hunter, Mr. Johnson's school-master, i. 40.
- - - - Miss, iii. 292, «.
Hurd, Dr. (Bishop of Worcester,) i. 69 ; ii. 299, 336, 469 ; iii.
297, 382.
Hussey, Rev. Mr. John, iii. 77.
- - - - Rev. Dr. Thomas, iii. 485.
Hutton, Mr. iii. 485.
Hutton's ' History of Derby,* ii. 416-
Hypochondria, i. 57.
L
Idea, the improper use of that word, ii. 443.
« Idler,' Johnson's, i. 258, 259.
Impressions and internal impulses dangerous and deceitful, iii. 240^.
Incidlt in Scyllam, &c. traced to its source, iii. 291, n.
India, the Government of, iii. 316.
Infidel, an odious character, ii. 317- »
- - - writers, how to be treated, ii. 251.
Infidelity, ii. 179, 317, 375 ; iii. 383.
----- conjugal, iii. 59, 107.
Influence of the crown in Parliament, i. 478.
Influenza, ii. 223.
Inns, ii. 257-
Inquisition, i. 363.
Intellectual preeminence, the highest superiority, i. 484.
_ . . - - nature abhors a vacuum, i. 497-
----- men do not, like others, become narrow in a narrow place,
ii 484.
Ireland, and the Irish, i. 251, 252 ; ii. 141 ; iii. 110.
Irishmen mix better with the English than the Scots do, ii. 82.
1
INDEX. m--
Irish Clergy, considerable scholars among them, i. 490.
...... their disregard of quantity, i. 'tOO.
* Irene,' Johnson's tragedy of, i. 83, 87, 89, 90, 91, 92, 124.
.... acted, i. 156, 157, 158.
Islam, a description of, ii. 435.
J.
Jackson, Henry, (one of Johnson's early friends,) ii. 388.
Jacobite, Johnson's ingenious defence of that character, i. 337;
Jackson, Mr. Johnson's school-fellow, ii. 267.
James, II. his character, ii. 166.
James, Dr. his • Medicinal Dictionary,' i. 130; ii. 294i
... his death, ii. 281.
January 30th, ii. 10, 11.
Jenyns, Soame, his * Origin of Evil,' i. 247-
_ ... his * Evidence of the Christian Rehgion,' iii. 3, 11.
Johnson, Michael, (Dr. Johnson's father,) i. 12, tsf seq.
.... his death, i. 66.
.... Sarah, (Dr. Johnson's mother,) Johnson's letters to, i. 265.^
266, 267.
.... her death, i. 268.
.... Nathanael, (Dr. Johnson's brother,) i. 33.
.... Richard, Schoolmaster at Nottingham, i. 166.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, his birth, i. 33.
. > . - . touched by Queen Anne, for the evil, i. 39.
..... goes to school at Lichfield, i. 40. — At Stourbridge, i. 44.
..... enters at Pembroke College, Oxon, i. 52, leaves it, i. 65.
- - . - - becomes Usher of Market-Bosw^orth School, i. 69. See
iii. 483.
..... removes to Birmingham, i. 70.
..... marries Mrs. Porter, i. 79.
..... opens an Academy at Edial, i. 80.
..... goes to London with Garrick, i. 84.
_ .... a writer in the ' Gentleman's Magazine,' i. 94, &c. See
iii. 484.
..... endeavours to obtain the degree of A. M. to get a school,
i. 107.
..... his distressed circumstances, and filial piety, i. 131, 132.
. - - - . loses his wife, i. 185.
..... his extreme grief for her loss, i. 212, 218, 235 ; ii. 208 ;
iii. 24, 119, 431.
..... composes her funeral sermon, i. 191.
..... visits Oxford, i. 210, and again, i. 274 ; ii. 248 ; iii. 376,
455.
- ... - obtains his degree of A. M. from that University, i. 2 J 6.
..... his letters on that occurrence, i. 220, &c. — The Diploma,
i. 221.
.... - declines taking holy orders, i. 250.
- , . . . loses bis mother, i. 264.
520 INDEX.
JoHNSON) obtains a pension of £ 300, per ann. i. 294*, £3* seq.
See i. 296 ; iii. 404<.
. _ - . - visits Cambridge, i. 380.
created LL. D. by Trinity College, Dublin, i. 381.
by Oxford University, ii. 158, 159, 160,
161.
..... his interview with the King, i. 4t\1, 418, 419, &c.
.... - appointed Professor of Ancient Literature in the Royal
Academy, i. 440.
.... - endeavours to get into Parliament^ i. 494, l^ seq.
. . _ . . visits the Hebrides, ii. 104, See Hebrides.
Wales, ii. 120.
France, ii. 199, 200, &c.
his account of it, ii. 203, 204, 205, 206, &c.
. .... his various places of residence, iii. 106, 107.
..... his long and gradual decline, iii. 326, 328.
... - . his various disorders, iii. 337, 429, 432, 449.
- . - . - medical opinions on his case, iii. 357 » 358, 367.
..... his proposed tour to Italy for his health, iii. 411, 418.
----- progress of his dissolution, iii. 472, to the end.
his will and codicil, iii. 479, 480, 481. — Remarks on
them, iii. 482.
..... his burning his MSS. iii. 481.
..... his MS. account of his own life, iii. 481, 482.
- .... his death, iii. 490.
..... his funeral, iii. 492.
----- his monuments and epitaphs, iii. 492, 493, 494, 495.
His Character and Manners.
- .... his peculiarities of person and manners, i. 38, 77» 81, 117,
118, 119, 194, 198, 311,378 ; ii. 158, 219,330;
iii. 66, 292.
..... his attention to small things, i. 364 ; iii. 14, 409.
..... his candour, i. 318 ; iii. 299. — Increased as he advanced
in life, iii. 336.
..... not a complainer, iii. 234, 283, 434, seldom courted
others, iii. 31.
..... not prone to inveigh against his own times, ii. 280, 468.
..... a great observer of characters, ii. 292.
..... never courted the great, iii. 234.
..... never got entirely rid of his provincial pronunciation, ii^
16, 267.
..... by what means he attained his extraordinary accuracy and
flow of language, i. 162.
..... his visit to his native town, where he finds things altered,
i. 292, 293.
----- his library, i. 344.
----- his love for the acquaintance of young persons, i. 348.
..... his observance of certain days, i. 376.
----- his custom of talking to himself, i. 377.
INDEX. 521
Johnson, his watch inscription, i. 433.
- . - . - his amusement in his sohtary hours, i. 100.
----- his company sought by few of the great, iii. 234'.
- . - - . general traits of his character and mode of Uving, i. 55^
56, 76, 77, 85, 313, 360, 399, 478, 500 ; ii. 23, 124,
134, 283, 354, 414, 437 ; iii. 26, 44, 150, 156, 186,
230, 292, 333, 392.
..... his course of study desultory and irregular, i. 336.
----- his instructions for study, i. 440.
... - - his early acquisition of general knowledge, i. 348.
- - - . . his manner of composing his Poetical Works, i. 399.
his ' Rambler,' ii, 309.
. - - - - his censure of one of his* Ramblers,' iii. 144.
^ - - . - at a late period of his life could have made his ' Ramblers'
better, iii. 397.
_ _ - , - his manner of composing his other works, ii. 325, n.
----- never looked at his * Rasselas' since it was iirst published,
iii. 237.
. . - - . wrote six sheets of translation from the French in one day,
----- wrote a hundred lines of the Vanity of Wishes in a day, i.
399.
. - - . - wrote seventy lines of the Vanity of Wishes in a day, with-
out putting one of them to paper, till all was finished, i.
153.
----- wrote three columns of the Gentleman's Magazine, con-
taining ParHamentary Debates, in an hour, iii. 484.
----- wrote forty-eight of the printed octavo pages of the Life
of Savage, at a sitting, i. 136.
----- his style formed on Sir William Temple's, a paper of
Ephraim Chambers respecting the second edition of his
Dictionary, and Sir Thomas Brov.'n, i. 175, 176 ; ii.
493, «.
- - - - , his own remarks on, and masterly vindication of his style,
ii. 423, 424.
----- his extraordinary memory, i. 37, 43.
----- retained in it verses of obscure authours, i. 491 ; iii. 224.
----- his superlative power of wit, ii. 74.
----- his dexterity in retort, i. 308 ; iii. 294.
----- his conversation eminently distinguished by fecundity of
fancy, and choice of language, iii. 34.
----- nothing of the old man in it, iii. 49, 293.
----- his early, long, habitual, and systematick piety, i. 35, 58,
197, 376, 380, 423, 440, 472, 499 ; ii. 40, 60, 124,
177, 180, 347, 354, 355, 485 ; iii. 29, 85, 86, 103,
145, 367, 379, 450, 475, 485, 489.
----- his independence, i. 346.
----- his superstition, i. 378.
his awful fear of death, i. 457, 468, 483 ; ii. 134, 404 ;
iii. 16, 365, 373, 389.
S2t-i' INDEX.
JoHNSON) his general tenderness of nature, humanity, and affability,
i. 68, 187, 216, 226, 320, 326, 351, 414, 423, 440,
470; ii. 118, 137, 153, 267,340,384,393,431,466.;
iii. 25, 250, 290, 367, 376, 406, 407, 424, 471.
- . - . . his warm and sometime violent manner, i. 193, 448, 468>
482 ; ii. 295, 432, 506 ; iii. 12, 32, 50, 57, 88, 231,
283, 369, 417.
his placability, i. 470 ; ii. 506.
- - - . - his charity, i. 479.
his occasional jocularity, i. 159, 213, 312, 334, 447, 462;
ii. 100, 182, 194, 259, 269, 406, 412 ; iii. 86, 161, 207.
his invariable regard to truth, i. 123, 199, 278, 341 ; ii.
243, 471, 481 ; iii. 15, 178, 394.
,_ ... his love of little children, iii. 301.
----- his kindness to his servants, ii. 350 ; iii. 301.
----- his fondness for animals which he had taken under his pro-
tection, iii. 302.
. . - . - his bow to an Archbishop, iii. 302.
- - - - - his laugh, ii. 194.
----- his engaging to write the history of the Authour's family,
iii. 303.
----- his respect to birth and family, i. 349 ; ii. 11, 31, 100,
156 ; iii. 64, 270.
his love of good eating, i. 365 ; ii. 331, 434 ; iii. 8, 377.
----- his political character and opinions, i. 36, 243, 332, 337»
4S6, 477, 481, 485 ; ii. 15, 25, 45, 65, 149, 175, 176,
187, 312, 409, 450 ; iii. 6, 31, 40, 66, 208, 235, 256,
278.
his pamphlets, i. 115, 116, 472, 492, 493 ; ii. 6, 121,
146, 147, 148. For his other ivorks see their different
titles, and see iii. 484.
. «... his general character summed up by the authour, iii. 496.
catalogue of his Works, i. 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
----- catalogue of works proposed to be executed by him, iii.
460, 461 ; see iii. 333, 334.
. . _ - - stories to his prejudice refuted, ii. 441 ; iii. 281. See
Haivkins and Piozzi.
. - . _ - various portraits of him, iii. 493, 494.
* Johnsoniana,' the collection so called, ii. 244.
Johnston, Sir James, iii. 375.
Jones, Miss, i. 253.
- - - Sir William, i. 485 ; iii. 90.
Jorden, Mr. i. 53, 54.
Journal, or diary of Hfe, its utility, i. 263, 339 ; ii. 63, 173, 421,
461, 469, 496 ; iii. 287.
Judges, ii. 167.
Junius, i. 493 ; iii. 83.
Juries, ii. 289.
Justitia hulk, an inadequate punishment, ii. 502.
^IftJDEX, 523
K.
it ought to be retained in the words publtci, musici, crUickt &c. iii.
165.
Karnes, Lord, ii. 51.
- - - - his ' Elements of Criticism,' i. 455.
- - - - his * Sketches of the History of Man,' ii. 485 ; iii. S3, 63.
Kelly, Hugh, Johnson's prologue to his ' Word to the Wise,' ii. 370.
- - - curious anecdote of, iii. 483.
Kemble, J. P. Esq. iii. 339.
Kempis, Thomas a, ii. 468 ; iii. 157, 373.
Ken, Bishop, ii. 420, n.
Kennedy, Rev. Dr. his * Astronomical Chronology,' i. 288.
- - - - M. D. A singular Tragedy by, ii. 478.
Kennicot, Mrs. iii. 378, 380.
Rev. Dr. i. 486.
Kenrick, Dr. i. 388, 436.
Killaloe, Bishop of. See Barnard.
Killingley, Mrs. her curious address to the authour, ii. 451.
Kindness, actual, always in our povper, though fondness not, iii. 276.
King, Rev. Dr. of St. Mary Hall, i. 220, 260, 274.
- - - (Dissenting Minister,) iii. 11.
King Charles, I. II. James II. George I. II. III. and William IIL
see their respective initials.
Kings, their situations, i. 332, 345 j ii. 25, 187-
Kippis, Dr. ii. 425.
Kneller, Sir Godfrey, anecdote of, ii. 477.
Knowledge, ii. 25, 40, 66, 181, 188, 189, 305 ; iii. 320.
...... the desire of, natural to man, i. 357.
...... however minute or inconsiderable, of some value; ii. 178«
255, 256.
Knowles, Mrs. iii. 7,8, 18, 19.
Knox, Mr. (the traveller,) ii. 138.
- - - - Rev. Vicissimus, iii. 413.
- - - - his imitation of Johnson's style, iii. 469, 470.
L.
Landlords and tenants, i. 97 ; ii. 487 ; iii. 278.
Langton, Bennet, Esq. i. 193, 250, 259 ; ii. 39, 496 ; iii. 6'9,48g.
..... Johnson's high praise of his moral character, ii. 414 ; iii.
374.
Johnson's letters to, i. 228, 254, 262, 263, 281, 399,401,
424, 493 ; ii. 5, 117, 181, 380 ; iii. 73, 338, 362,431,
441.
- - » - . his * Johnsoniana,' iii. 142 — 166.
..... Miss Jane, Johnson's letter to, iii. 367.
. - - . . Peregrine, Esq. account of his admirable and genteel eeofc
omy, i. 401, 402, 40,3.
524 INDEX.
Languages, i. 372, 411, 449 ; ii. 15, 40, 476. ; iii. 402.
Landsdown, Marquis of, iii. 298.
Xiutin, Johnson's accurate knowledge of, ii. 219.
- - - poetry, modern, ii. 188.
La Trobe, Rev. Mr. iii. 485.
Lauder, William, his forgery against Milton, i. 182, 183.
Laughter, the various modes of, indicate what kind of company the
laugher has kept, i. 350.
Laughers, the use of sometimes living with them, iii. 292.
Law, Johnson's intention of studying, i. 382.
- - - his instructor, Mr. Ballow, authour of * Treatise on Equity,' ii.
294.
- - - his opinion as to the study and practice of, i. 395, 405, 446 ;
ii. 45, 65, 429 ; iii. 398.
Law, arguments on several cases, viz.
- - - on Schoolmasters and their duty, ii. 35, 36, 37.
- - - vicious intromission, ii. 358.
- - - rights of lay-patrons, ii. 83.
Dr. Memis's case, ii. 189, 190.
- - - Stirling Corporation's case, ii, 191.
- - - entails, ii. 241.
. - - liberty of the Pulpit, ii. 320, 349-
- - - registration of Deeds, iii 202.
- - - case of the Procurators of Edinburgh, iii. 245.
Laiv, Archdeacon, (now Bishop of Elphin,) iii. 11/5.
Law's ' Serious Call,' i. 59, 483.
Lawrence, Dr. i. 68 ; iii. 260.
- ■ - - - letters to, ii. 131 ; iii. 118.
Lea, Rev. Samuel, i. 45.
Learning, i. 356 ; ii. 40.
Lectures, their inutility, i. 393 ; iii. 216.
Lee, Arthur, Esq. ii. 331.
John, Esq. (the late Barrister,) ii. 467.
Leeds, Duke of, iii. 151.
Leland, Rev. Dr. Thomas, i. 381.
Lenox, Mrs. Charlotte, i. 273, 289 ; ii. 125; iii. 148.
Lesley, Charles, iii. 379, n.
Leverian Museum, iii. 416.
Levet, Mr. Robert, i. 192, 194, 341 ; ii. 199 ; iii. 254, 331.
- - - - Johnson's letters to, ii. 118, 199, 350-
- - - - his death, iii. 254.
- - - - Johnson's Elegiack verses on him, iii. 255.
Lewis, the Rev. Francis, i. 180.
- - - - David, his lines to Pope, iii. 395.
Lexiphanes, i. 424.
-.-... letter from, iii. 466.
Libels on the Dead, and the general doctrine of, ii. 288, 289. See
Topha?n's case.
Libel Bill, the late, superfluous, ii. 289-
Liberty, political and private, i. 436.
INDEX. 525
Liberty, subordination and order necessary to the enjoyment of true
liberty, iii. 88.
Liberty and necessity of the will, i, 451, 465 ; iii. 13, 199.
Lichfield, remarks on, ii. 268, 269, 270.
Johnson's last visit to, iii, 452.
Liddel, Sir Henry, his spirited expedition to Lapland, ii. 23, «.
Life, reflections on, i. 484, 488 ; ii. 70, 316, 319, 415, 445 ; iii.
390, 412.
- - - should be thrown into method, that every hour may bring em-
ployment, ii. 351.
Line, the improper use of that word, ii, 443.
Literary Club, i. 473 ; ii. 149, 372 ; iii. 4, 292, 293, 410.
.-.- -.... Johnson's high opinion of it, iii. 285,
Literary frauds, i. 199. — Instances of, i, 283, 284 ; iii. 482.
- - - . property, i. 209, 342, 343 ; ii. 98, 110, 169 ; iii. 463.
- - - - men, the written accounts of their lives may be made as en-
tertaining as those of any other class, iii. 221.
Literature, state of, i. 237.
' Lives of the EngHsh Poets,' Johnson's, ii. 364, 366, 367, 393.
published, iii. 78, 167, 269.
-._-....-__.... critique on, and account of, iii. 169 —
■ 192, 378.
Lloyd, Mr (the Quaker,) ii. 262.
Lobo's Abyssinia, i, 71 ; ii. 283.
Lock, William, Esq. (of Norbury Park,) iii. 174.
Locke, his plan of Education imperfect, iii. 67, 68.
Lockman, Mr. John, iii, 145.
LofFt, Capel, Esq. iii, 372.
Lombe's silk mill, at Derby, ii. 416.
London, its immensity, i. 330 ; ii. 177 ; iii. 305.
- - - . its superiority over the country, i. 445, 480 ; ii. 281, 427»
438, 454.
- - - - Johnson's, and the authour's love of/ i. 250, 359 ; ii. 112,
281, 427 ; iii. 438.
- - - - art of living in, i. 85.
. Johnson's poem of, i. 97, 98, 102, 103, 107, 108, 154.
Chronicle, i. 249, 464.
Long, Dudley, Esq. See North.
Longley, Mr. of Rochester, iii. 147-
Lort, Rev. Dr. iii. 383, n.
Loudoun, Countess of, iii. 74,
Lovat, Lord, anecdotes of, and epigram on, i. 146i
Love, i. 482 ; ii. 104, ISO, 265. See Marriage.
Loveday, Dr. John, ii. 98, n.
Loughborough, Lord, i. 304.
Lowe, (Johnson's school-fellow,) i. 41.
... Mr, Mauritius, the painter, iii. 305, 306, 307, 312, 313, 479-
Lowth, Robert, Bishop of London, i. 419.
Loyalty, iii. 282.
Lucan, Lord, iii, 211, 410.
VOL. in. 67
52b- INDEX
Lucan, Lady, iii. 410.
' Luke's iron crown.' See Zeck,
Lumisden, Andrew, Esq. ii. 216.
Luton Hoe, Lord Bute's seat at, iii. S**.
Luxury and extravagance, ii. 24, 64, 318 ; iii. 5, 6, 61.
Lydiat, Thomas, i. 155.
Lyttelton, George, Lord, his works, i. 420, 485 ; ii. 66, 3021
.... - Johnson's Life of, iii. 186.
----- Thomas, Lord, his vision, iii. 388.
M.
Macartney, George, Earl of, i. 12 ; ii. 294, 478, 482 ; iii. 189.
Macaulay, Mrs. Johnson's acute and unanswerable refutation of her
levelling reveries ; his opinion of her and her works, i. 349, 380;
ii. 65, 338, 433.
_ . . - . Rev. Mr. Kenneth, his account of Saint Kilda, i. 429 ;
ii 9.
Macbean, Mr. ii. 297 ; iii. 139.
- . _ . . his Dictionary of Geography, ii. 53.
Macbeth, Johnson's ' Observations on,' i. 143.
Macaronick Verses, iii. 3.
Macclesfield, Lady, i. 138, &c. See Savage.
M Donald, Sir James, i. 350.
----.. Sir Alexander, (now Lord,) ii. 15.
- Lady Margaret, iii. 87.
Mackhn, Charles, the Actor, i. 304.
Maclaurin, Mr. ii. 183, 357.
Maclean, Sir Allan, ii. 357.
. . - • - Mr. Alexander, ii. 219.
Macpherson, James, Esq. ii. 130, 132, 133, 134.
....... Johnson's letter to him, ii. 133.
Macquarry, ii. 357, 390.
Macqueen, Rev. Mr. Donald, ii. 197.
Madden, the Rev. Dr. the first proposer of premiums in Trinity
College, DubHn,i. 241, «.
- - - - his * Boulter's Monument,' i. 241.
- - - - his rule for planting an orchard, iii. 309.
Madness, i. 312 ; ii. 426.
Mahogany, a liquor so called, iii. 206.
Mallet, David, i. 487; iii. 90, 319.
- - - - his Life of Bacon, ii. 441.
- - - - his Tragedy of ' Elvira,' i. 320.
Malone, Edmond, Esq. i. 8, 177, 180, 317, 323 ; ii. 273, 314,
317 ; iii. 24, 38, 95, 173, ISO, 181, 250, 491, 495.
- - - - Johnson's letters to, iii. 257-
Man in all states must govern woman, from superiority of understands
ing, ii, 315, 316.
« Man of Feeling,' (a Novel,) i. 284.
Mandeville's ' Fable of the Bees,' criticised, iii. 14.
INDEX. sir
Manly Beauty, described by Shakspeare and Milton, iii. 201 .
Manners, works describing them require notes in sixty or seventy
years, ii. 59.
Manning, Mr. (the Compositor,) iii. ^OG, 407-
Mansfield, Lord, ii. 15, 44, 150, 500 ; iii. 126, 288.
Manucci, Count, ii. 205, 347-
Maps, ii. 177.
Ma'-chmount, Earl of, ii. 17 ; iii. 55, 94, 180.
Marlborough, Duke of, i. 11.
Duchess of, i. 124 ; iii. 207.
Marmor Norfolciense, i. 116.
Marriage, i. 432, 446, 471, 487 ; ii. 21, 261, 262, 291, 296 ; iii-
83, 248, 383.
Marriage, second, i. 446, 487.
Bill, Royal, ii. 11.
----- * Matrimonial Thought,' a song, i. 472.
Marsili, Dr. i. 252.
Martinelli's History of England, ii. 66.
Mary, Queen of Scots, i. 278 ; ii. 107-
Matter, Berkley's notion of its non-existence, controverted, i. 368..
Mash, Rev. Dr. his ' History of Worcestershire,' ii. 505.
Mason, Rev. William, i. 28, 30, ii. 162, 301 ; iii. 15, 402.
Masquerades, ii. 54.
Masters, Mrs. i. 191 ; iii. 343.
Mattaire, iii. 143.
Maupertuis, i. 431.
Maxwell, Rev. Dr. his anecdotes of Johnson, i, 476,491.
Mayo, Rev. Dr. ii. 92, 93 ; iii. 7, 9.
Meeke, Mr, i. 212.
Mead, Dr. iii. 65.
Melancholy, constitutional, reflections on, i. 55, 271 ; ii. 235, 249,
345, 354, 392, 426, 439 ; iii. 498.
Melancthon, ii. 374, 378, n.
Melmoth, WiUiam, Esq. iii. 121, 123.
----- his Letters, under the name of Fitzosbonie, iii. 123, 368, «.
Memis, Dr. ii. 127, 133, 189, 353, 357.
Menagiana, iii. 53.
Merchant, a new species of gentleman, i. 384.
Metaphysicks, i. 451, 465.
Metcalfe, Philip, Esq. iii. 274.
Methodists, i. 357, 485 ; iii. 413.
Meynell, Hugo, Esq. his happy expressions concerning London, iii.
84.
Mickle, William Julius, ii. 34 ; iii. 396.
- - his ' Lusiad,' iii. 347.
Middle state of souls, i. 467 ; ii. 19.
Millar, Andrew, i. 227.
Miller, Lady, ii. 163.
M^lne, Mr. the Architect, defended, i. 276.
Milner, Rev. Mr. his defence of the Methodists, i. 357, «•
528 INDEX.
Milton, his grand daughter, i. 181, 182.
- - - - Johnson's Life of, iii. 173, ^ seq. seei. 181, £3* teq. iii. 393.
.... more thinking in him and Butler, than in any of the English
Poets,
- - - - his plan of education impracticable, iii. 67.
Mimickry, ii. 12.
Miracles, in proof of the Christian religion, supported by the strong-
est evidence, i. 34'7.
* Mirror, the,' a periodical paper, iii. 469.
* Modern Characters from Shakspeare,' ii. 492.
Monasteries, i. 2cS7 ; ii, 246.
Monboddo, Lord, and his works, i. 445 ; ii. 7> 65, 197 ; iii. 243«
368.
Monckton, Hon. Miss, (now Countess of Cork,) iii. 229.
------ the autliour's verses to, iii. 230.
Monro, Dr. iii. 359.
Montagu, Mrs. her ' Essay on Shakspeare,' i. 444.
anecdotes of, ii. 482 ; iii. 201, 370.
Montrose, the late Duke of, ii. 480 ; iii. 229.
Monuments in St. Paul's Church, ii. 80.
Moody, Mr. the actor, ii. 165.
Moor, Dr. (Greek Professor at Glasgow,) ii. 306, a.
More, Dr. Henry, ii. 18.
- - . Miss Hannah, ii. 493 ; iii. 219, 222, 229, 370, 393.
Morris, Miss, Johnson s last words spoken to her, iii. 490.
Mounsey, Dr. of Chelsea, his character, i. 438.
Mountstuart, Lord, (now Marquis of Bute,) i. 404 ; ii. 242, 349 ;
iii. Ill, 244.
' Mourning Bride,' description of the temple in that play, highly
commended, i. 452.
Mudge, Rev. Mr. Zachariah, i. 297 ; iii. 204.
- - - - Dr. i. 297.
Murphy, Arthur, Esq. i. 256, 279, 307, 486.
- . . _ his ' Poetical Epistle to Johnson,' i. 279.
Murray, Mr. Solicitor General of Scotland, ii. 284.
Musgrave, Sir William, i. 124.
. . _ - . Dr. Samuel, iii. 34.
Musick, ii. 70, 221, 444 ; iii. 157.
Myddleton, Colonel, his urn and inscription in honour of Johnson,
iii. 493.
N.
Nares, Rev. John, his ' Elements of Orthoepy,' and imitation of
Johnson's style, iii. 468. ^
Nash, Beau, Dedication, i. 5.
National Debt, i. 486.
Natural affection from parents to children instinctive ; not vice versa,
i. 463.
- - - - the reasons assigned, iii. 93.
Negroes, ii. 346, 353, 357, 385, 446.
- - - - Johnson's arguments in favour of one, ii. 447, 455-
Nelson's * Festivals and Fasts,' ii. 263.
Newhaven, Lord, iii. 108.
Newton, Sir Isaac, Johnson's praise of, i. 354, 485.
.... Dr. Thomas, (late Bishop of Bristol,) iii. 378.
Nichols, Dr. Johnson's review of his Discourse de Anima Medica
undiscovered, ii. 416.
... - Mr. John, iii. 169, 275, 449.
- - - - his communications as to Johnson, iii. 483.
Nicol, Mr. George, Johnson's letter to, iii. 445.
Nil admirari, the propriety of that maxim discussed, ii. 180.
NoUekens, Mr. ii. 462.
Nonjurors, ii. 152 ; iii. 379.
North, Dudley, Esq. iii. 202, 208.
- - - Lord, his Lordship's letters as Chancellor of the University
of Oxford, to the Vice-Chancellor, in favour of Johnson,
ii. 159.
Northumberland, Elizabeth, Duchess of, ii. 505.
Hugh, Duke of, ii. 490.
Norton, Sir Fletcher, i. 456 ; ii. 275.
Nowell, Rev. Dr. iii. 386, 387.
Nti| y«g i^x^rcii, the motto on Johnson's watch, i. 43S.
O.
O'Connor, Charles, Esq. the Irish antiquarian, Johnson's letters to,
i. 251 ; ii. 368.
----- account of, ii. 368, n.
Ode to Friendship, i. 129.
- - on Winter, i. 144.
Odes by Cumberland, ii. 310.
Ogilvie, Dr. John, i. 330, 331.
Oglethorpe, General, anecdotes of, i. 104 ; ii. 33, 173, .^18 ; iii.
5, 282.
Old age, ii. 491 ; iii. 49, 50.
Oldfield, Dr. anecdote of, ii. 319.
Oldham's imitation of Juvenal, i. 97-
Oldys, William, his part in the Harleian Miscellany, i. 142.
Oldmixon, John, i. 234, n.
Oliver, Dame, Johnson's school-mistress, i. 40.
' 011a Podrida,' iii. 497, n.
Omai, ii. 284.
Oratory, ii. 59, 155 ; iii. 225, 403.
Orford, Lord, his gallery of pictures, iii. 416.
Orme, Mr. the Historian, ii. 135 ; iii. 7.
- - - Captain, iii. 212.
Orrery, John, the fifth Earl of, i. 150, 487 ; ii. 31, 285.
- - - - his Life of Swift, ii. 487.
Osborn, Francis, his works, ii. 43.
530 INDEX.
Osborne, Thomas, the bookseller, i. 125.
Ossian, Poems of, their merit and authenticity discussed, i. 311^
485 ; ii. 130, 133, 134, 143, 144, 314 ; iii. 292, 348, 349.
Ostentation, i. 364, 433 ; ii. 312 ; iii. 145, 292.
* Othello,' its useful moral, ii. 307.
----- the drunken dialogue in that play the most excellent of
its kind, ii. 308.
- - . — the doctrine in that play ' he that is robb'd,' &c. con-
troverted, iii. 59.
Otway, iii. 156.
Oxford University, highly praised, i. 429.
Palmer, the Rev. Thomas Fysche. iii. 242.
- - - the Rev. John, his Answer to Dr. Priestley, on Philosophic^
al necessity, iii. 13, n.
Palmerston, Henry, the second Viscount, i. 275 ; iii. 10.
Pamphlets, iii. 35.
Panting, Dr. i. 62.
Paoli, General, i. 443, 449 ; ii. 21, 66, 69, 303, 408 ; iii. 39,
413.
Paradise, John, Esq. iii. 90.
- - - - character of, and Johnson's letter to, iii. 444i.
Parentheses, disapproved of by Johnson, iii. 297*
Parish Clerks, iii. 243.
Parker, Mr. Sackville, iii. 396.
Parnell, Dr. Goldsmith's Life of, ii. 22.
- - - Johnson's Life of, and Epitaph on, iii. 183.
- - - a disputed passage in one of his poems, iii. 95.
Parr, Rev. Dr. iii. 152, 336, 495.
Parson, the life of a conscientious one, not an easy life, iii. 23.
Passion Week, ii. 40.
Paterson, Mr. Samuel, ii. 28, 348.
his son, ii. 348 ; iii. 326, 364.
' The Patriot,' a tragedy by Mr. Joseph Simpson, found among
Johnson's papers, and falsely imputed to him, ii. 299.
Patriotism, ii. 171.
Patten, Dr. iii. 276.
Pearce, Dr. Zachary, Bishop of Rochester, i. 233 ; ii. 369.
Peers, House of, ought generally to exercise the judicial power,
iii. 57, 58.
- - - of Scotland, and their undue influence, iii. 345.
Pelham, Right Hon. Henry, Garrick's Ode on his Death, i. 210.
Pembroke College, Oxford, eminent men of, i. 64.
- — - - Henry, late Earl of, ii. 155, n.
Pennant's ' Tour,' ii. 505, 506.
- - - - ' London,' ii. 507.
Pension, Johnson's, i. 294. See Johtisoth.
Pepys, William Weller, Esq. iii. 209.
INDEX. 531
Percy, Dr. (Bishop of Dromore,) i. 44, 45, 62, 116, 153,376,
379, 437, 494 ; ii. 259, 260, 504, 505, 506, 510 ; iii. 74,
117, 120, 134.
- - - letters on a difference between Johnson and him, ii. 510, 511.
- - - proved to be the heir male of the ancient Earls of Northum-
berland, ii. 505.
Perkins, Mr. successor to Mr. Thrale, iii. 207, 210.
- - - - letters from Johnson to, ii. 122 ; iii. 236, 268, 443.
Peters, Mr. Dr. Taylor's upper servant, ii. 277-
Peterborough, Earl of, iii. 415.
Petitions, popular, to distress Government, easily obtained, i. 455.
Peyton, Mr. i. 151 ; ii. 13.
Phcean, contrasted with Mr. Fox, ii. 501.
Phillips, the musician, Johnson's Epitaph on, i. 121.
Philips, the Poet, Johnson's Life of, iii. 185.
- - - Miss, the singer, now Mrs. Crouch. See Crouch.
"Oi (piXot, » vp<A«r, i. 165 ; iii. 12, 90.
Philosophers, ancient, their good humour with each other in disputa-
tion, accounted for, ii. 285.
Philosophy, iii. 24.
Pieresc, ii. 189.
Pig, the learned, iii. 453.
Pindar, West's translation of, iii. 162.
Piozzi, Mrs. i. 385 ; ii. 240, 382 ; iii. 32, 208, 209, 273, 371.
- - - anecdotes of Johnson, related by her, corrected or explained,
i. 37, 59, 76, 325, 375 ; ii. 39, 44, 172 ; iii. 404, 421,
427.
- - - letter from her to Johnson, iii. 121.
- - - letter from Johnson to her, iii. 123, 327.
- - - burlesque ode to her, iii. 466.
Pitt, Right Hon. WiUiam, Earl of Chatham, ii. 45 ; iii. 66, 403.
- - Right Hon. William, his letter to the authour, on his exertions
for Government, iii. 356.
Pity, not natural to man, i. 341.
Planta, Mr. ii. 214, n.
Planting trees, ii. 359, 451.
Plaxton, Rev, George, i. 34.
Players, Porter, Clive, Pritchard, ii. 340.
Plymouth, Johnson's visit to, i. 297, 298.
Pococke, Edward, the Orientalist, ii. 502 ; iii. 162.
Poetiy, reflections on, ii. 173, 306, 307, 411, 493.
- - - not definable, ii. 306.
- - - the cause of languages being preserved, ii. 304. — The beau-
ties not translatable, ibid.
- - - of Johnson, while young, i. 38, 45, <y seq. 76.
Poets, Johnson's Lives of. See Lives.
Politian's Poems, Johnson's projected edition of, i. 64.
Poor, in England, better provided for than in any other country,
i. 489.
5S2 INDEX.
Pope, i. 104, 107, 108, 116, 392 ; ii. 173, 477 ; iii. 58, 94, 394,
395.
- - - compared with Dryden, i. 392.
- - - Lady Bolingbroke's description of, iii. 39.
... his Life, by Ruffhead, ii. 22.
- - - Johnson's translation of his ♦ Messiah,' i. 54.
- - - his * Homer,' ii. 493.
- - - his ♦ Universal Prayer,' iii. 58.
- - - his ♦ Essay on Man,' iii. 103, 104.
- - - his Epitaphs, i. 241.
- - - Johnson's Life of, iii. 176.
... Dr. Walter, his ' Old Man's Wish,' iii. 155.
Porter, Mrs. (afterwards Johnson's w fe,) i. 77, 78.
- - - Miss Lucy, i. 77 ; ii. 266 ; iii. 112.
- - - Johnson's letters to, ii. 202 ; iii. 96, 214, 258, 259, 3S6i
352, 356, 472.
- - - Mrs. the Actress, iii. 340.
Porteus, Dr. Beilby, Lord Bishop of London, iii. 3, 4, 113, 204.
Portmore, Earl of, iii. 363.
Praise from those we love, delightful, i. 167.
Prayer, i. 466 ; ii. 27 ; iii. 385, 456.
Prayer for the dead, i. 467 ; ii. 19.
Prayers and Meditations, Johnson's, iii. 456. His extraordinary
prayer for his departed wife, i. 186.
Preaching of the estabhshed Clergy, i. 357, 483.
-.._-. Female Quakers, i. 361.
* Preceptor,' Dodsley's, i. 158.
Predestination, i. 465. See Liberty and Necessity.
Prendergast, Mr. remarkable anecdote of, ii. 35.
Presentiment, a remarkable story concerning, ii. 34.
Presbyterians, i. 465.
Price, Dr. iii. 336, «.
Priestley, Dr. Johnson's opinion of, i. 483 } iii. 335, 336.
Prince of Wales, his happiness, iii. 292.
Pringle, Sir John, ii. 327, 426, 485.
Printing, i. 304.
- - - - ancient, ii. 214.
Prior's poetry, i. 448 ; ii. 439.
Pritchard, Mrs. ii. 172 ; iii. 340.
Probationer, ii. 26.
Procurators of Edinburgh, their case, iii. 245.
Professions, some objections to all, i. 487-
* Pioject,' the, a poem, iii. 34.
Pronunciation, ii. 16, 17, 443.
Prostitution, i. 356 ; ii. 290.
Providence, a particular, iii. 368.
Prussia, Frederick, King of, his writings, i. 340.
Psalmanazar, George, iii. 31, 295, 369.
Psalms, best metrical translations of, ii. 282.
Publick amusements keep people from vice, ii. 24.
INDEX. 53//
Publick speaking, no true test of a man's powers, ii. 164< ; iii. 289.
Puns, ii. 82 ; iii. 38, 208, 402, 403.
Q-
Quakers, ii. 362, 363 ; iii. 18, 314, 315.
- - - - of their women preaching, i. 361.
Queensbury, Charles, late Duke of, ii. 186.
Quin, James, (the actor,) ii. 187.
Quintilian, iii. 168.
Quotation, classical, the parole of literary men, iii. 224.
Quos Deus vult perdere, &c. traced to its source, iii. 291.
R.
Rackstrow, of Fleet-street, Johnson's Colonel in the Train Bands,
iii. 404.
Radcliffe, Rev. Dr. Master of Pembroke College, i. 212.
- - - - John, M. D. his travelling fellowship, iii. 384.
Ralph, Mr. James, iii. 189, n.
* Rambler,' Johnson's, published, i. 160, 161, 162, 179.
remarks on, i. 174 ; ii. 309 ; iii. 265, 371.
..... Shenstone's criticism on, ii. 258, 259.
Ramsay, Allan, Esq. (Painter to his Majesty,) ii. 487 ; iii. 45, 48,
49, 447.
Ranby, John, Esq. ii. 449-
Rank, its importance in society, i. 345, 349 ; ii. 11.
* Rasselas,' Prince of Abyssinia, Johnson's, i. 74, 268, 269, 339 ;
iii. 33, 237.
----- translated into four languages, ii. 57.
----- American edition of, i. 56.
Reading, the manner and effect of, i. 52, 70 ; ii. 181, 309, 440 ;
iii. 8, 46, 156, 320.
Reed, Isaac, Esq. iii. 169.
* Rehearsal, the,' Johnson's opinion of that Farce, iii. 405.
_--.-.-- criticisms on, ii. 24.
Rein-deer, project for introducing them into England, ii. 23.
Relationship, attachment grounded on, diminished by commerce,
ii. 30.
Religion, and Religious Establishments, i. 59, 354, 465, 466, 46T ;
ii. 9, 10, 83, 246, 263, 276, 290 ; iii. 18, 30, 31, 33,
216, 241, 242, 317-
- - - - Roman Catholick and Presbyterian, i. 465, 466, 467 ; ii.
96 ; iii. 107, 381.
- - - - that he who does not feel in it, is far from the kingdom of
heaven, a rash doctrine, iii. 52.
Religious Orders, ii. 246.
Republicans wish to level down as far as themselves, but cannot bear
to level up to themselves, i. 349.
* Respublic£y the work so entitled, ii. 316.
VOL. III. 68
534 INDEX.
Review, Johnson's plan of one, i. 24-1.
Reviews, and Reviewers, i. 421 ; ii. 301, 310 ; iii. 187, 316.
Revolution, celebration of, iii. 282.
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, i. 3, 10, 192, 232, 258 ; ii. 128, 140, 308,
155, 402, 487, 488.
, - _ - . his Discourses, iii. 77, 78, 406.
- _ _ - . his even and placid temper, ii. 282.
Johnson's letters to, i. 379, 498 ; ii. 3, 341, 348 ; iii.
250, 275, 326, 446.
. _ - . . anecdotes of Johnson, by him, i. 298, 470 ; iii. 292.
Rheumatism, receipt for,
Rhyme, i. 335 ; ii. 493.
Richardson, Mr. Samuel, anecdotes of, i. 104, 119, 164, 457 ; ii-
432 ; iii. 31, 163.
.-.--. compared with Fielding, i. 427.
.__--. with French Nuvehsts, i. 485.
---_.- nis works, ii. 28.
Riches, i. 344 ; ii. 22, 499 ; iii. 32, 243, 268, 285.
Ridicule, iii. 153.
Riots in 1780, account of, i. 125, 126, 136.
Rising early, ii. 419.
Roberts, Miss, i. 337-
Robertson, Rev. Dr. William, i. 413 ; iii. 45, 47, 48.
----- his first introduction to Johnson, iii. 45.
----- his works, i. 430 ; ii. 78.
----- his imitation of Johnson's style, ii. 424 ; iii. 467«
Robinson, Sir Thomas, i. 240, 489.
Rcjchester's Poems, ii. 439.
Rolt, Richard, his ' Dictionary of Trade and Commerce,' i. 283.
- - - anecdotes of, i. 283.
Romances, i. 44.
----- reasons for reading them, iii. 153.
Roscommon, Life of, i. 1.53.
Round Robin, Literary, ii. 342.
Rousseau, i. 343, 396.
Rowe, Mrs. her works, i. 215.
Royal Academy, instituted, i. 440.
Rudd, Mrs. Margaret Caroline, ii. 339 ; iii. 44.
Ruddiman, Mr. Thomas, i. 168.
Ruff head's Life of Pope, ii. 22.
Russia, Catharine, Empress of, ii. 391, n ; iii. 78.
Ruttv, Dr. his * Spiritual Diary,' ii. 421.
Ryland, Mr. i. 191.
S.
Sailors, their life, ii. 247, 500 ; iii. 347-
Salam.ancha University, i. 354.
Sanderson, Bishop, i. 175.
INDEX. S3.?
Sapi, Paoli, his Council of Trent,' i. 110.
- - - - - his Life, by Johnson, i. 114.
Savage, Richard, anecdotes of, i. lOJ, 134.
- Johnson's Life of, i. 132, 137.
- - - enquiry as to his birth, i. 137.
- - - his Tragedy of ' Sir Thomas Ovetbury,' represented, ii. 371.
Savages, ii. 313 ; iii. 397.
- - - - always cruel, i. 344.
Searsdale, Lord, ii. 412-
Schools, Scottish, do not make critical scholars, ii. 26.
Schoolmasters, i. 80 ; ii. 6.
-.--... law cases riespecting them, ii. 14, 35, 36, 37) 4:55,
457.
Scorpions, curious anecdote concerning, i. 431.
Scotch, their pronunciation, ii. 62.
- - - Lairds, i. 321. See Laridlord andTnant,
Scotchmen, their steady perseverance to obtain an object, iii. 149.
- - - - their great nationality, iii 294.
Scotland, and the Scotch, Johnson's opinion of, and bon mots on, i,
333, 351, 429, 447, 4-81 ; ii. 83, 135, 139, 140, 141, 243,
276, 421, 472, 481, 486 ; iii. 110, 223, 294, 295.
Scottish Literature, ii. 183.
Scott, Sir Wilham, i. 360, 467 ; ii. 4:97 ; iii. 215, 216.
- - - Mr. of Am well, ii. 174.
- - - George Lewis, Esq. ii. 373.
Scriptures, the Holy, ii. 320.
----- Johnson's letter on the proposals to translate them into
Erse, i. 410.
Scripture phnises, ii. 60.
Seeker, Archbishop, i. 32 ; iii. 163.
Second sight, i. 395 ; ii. 9.
Seduction, ii. 290 ; iii. 475.
Selected works, ii. 299, 469.
Sem.l Insan'tvimus cmnes, traced to its source, iii. 291 > n.
Sensibility, i. 457 ; ii. 274 ; iii. 321.
Sermons, the best English, ii. 485, 486.
Servants, ii. 63 ; iii. 33.
Seward, Rev. Mr. ii. 271, 406 ; iii. 112.
Miss Anna, i. 38, n ; ii. 271 ; iii. 414.
- - - - Wilham, Esq. ii. 378, 418 ; iii. 256, 290, 302, 31?.
Shakspeare, compared with Congreve, i. 452, 453 j iii. 152.
..-....-.-- with Corneille, iii. 152.
with Milton, iii. 200, 201.
--.-.. his description of night, in ' Macbeth,' faulty, i. 45S.
... - - . his description of Dover Cliffs, faulty, i. 453.
------ his Witches, of his own creation, iii. 87.
.-..-. Johnson's opinion of, iii. 87, 155, 160.
Johnson's edition of his Plays, i. 143, 250, 251, 282,
376, 388, 474, 475 ; ii. 53 ; iii. 380.
Johnson's opinion of his learning, iii. 155.
536 INDEX.
Shakspeare, remarks on, i. 387, ^.SG ; ii. 42, 317 ; iii. 152.
See Othello, and Mrs. Montagu.
...... the second folio edition of his Plays, (1632) adulterated
in every page, ii. 389, n.
Sharpe, Rev. Dr. Gregors', i. 488.
Sharpe's ' Letters on Italy,' ii. 317.
Shaw, Cuthbert, his poem of ' The Race,' i. 415.
- - - Rev. Mr. his Erse Grammar, ii. 362, 363.
- - - his pamphlet on Ossian, iii. 348.
- - - Dr. Thomas, (the traveller,) iii. 232.
Shebbeare, Dr. iii. 232.
Shenstonc, his verses at an inn, ii. 257-
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, Esq. ii. 371, 372.
- - - - Thomas, Esq. i. 303, 304, &c. 353, 453, 487 ; ii. 17, 151,
279 ; iii. 83, 317, 322, 413.
Mrs. i. 305, 306.
Shiels, Mr. Robert, i. 151 ; ii. 300.
Shipley, Dr. Jonathan, (late Bishop of St. Asaph,) iii. 343.
Short Hand, i. 69 ; ii. 503.
Shrewsbury, ii. 43.
Siam, Embassy from the King of, to Louis the Fourteenth, iii. 49.
Siddons, Mrs. her visit to Johnson, iii. 339, 340.
Sibbald, Sir Robert M. D. ii. 470.
Sidney, Sir Phihp, his receipt to preserve a wife's chastity, ii.
388, K.
Simpson, Joseph, Esq. i. 273, 381 ; ii. 298.
- - - - Johnson's letter to, i. 273.
Sin, original, iii. 241, ^ seq.
Skene, Sir John, the great antiquary of Scotland, iii. 114, n.
Slavery, and Slave trade, i. 446, 448, 456. See Negroes.
Sleep, ii. 419, 420.
* Slow,' its meaning in the first line of Goldsmith's * Traveller,' ii.
490.
Smart, Christopher, i. 240, 312 ; ii. 169.
Smith, Dr. Adam, iii. 45, 159, 294, 469.
his ' Wealth of Nations, ii. 242.
- - - Captain, iii. 71. ^
- - - Edmund, his verses to Pococke, ii. 502.
Smollet, Tobias, his letter to Wilkes, i, 275.
Society, civilized, its customs, i. 343, 344, 349) 397, 463 ; ii. 72,
490, 497.
Solamen mtseris, &c. the authour of that line yet undiscovered, iii.
292 «.
Soldiers, ii. 285, 500 ; iii. 70.
Somerville, Lord, the authour's warm and grateful remembrance of
him, iii. 179.
South, Rev. Dr. i. 466 ; ii. 485.
Southwell, Thomas, the second Lord, iii. 85, 285.
..... Thomas George, the third Lord, iii. 138, n.
- . . . . Viscountess, Johnson's letter to, iii. 138.
INDEX. 53-7
Southwell, Hon. Edmund, iii. 138, n.
SpH.ish Plays, fit only for children, iii. 153.
Spearing, Mr. the attorney, i. 107j «.
« Spectator, the,' ii. 59, 188, 302, 312.
Spence, the Rev. Joseph, his account of Blacklock's description of
visible objects, unsatisfactory, i. 364.
- - his ' Anecdotes,' iii. 192.
Spirits, evil, iii. 382.
* Spleen, the,' a poem, ii. 305.
Stanhope, Mr. Lord Chesterfield's son, i. 209.
Stanton, Mr. the actor, ii. 268.
Staunton, Sir George, Johnson's letter to, i. 289.
Statuary compared with Painting, ii. 248, 472.
Steel, Right Hon. Thomas, i. 116.
- - - Mr. his ' Prosodla Rat'ionalis,' ii. 155.
Sir Richard, ii. 255 ; iii. 182, 216.
Steevens, George, Esq. assists in Johnson's Shakspeare, i. 475 ; ii.
53.
Johnson's letters to, ii. 110, 11 ', 356.
- - - - communications from, respecting Johnson, iii. 408, $ff seq.
Sterne, Rev. Laurence, ii. 67. See Tristram Shandy.
Stewart, Francis, Johnson's amanuensis, iii. 121.
Stirling Corporation, ii. 191.
Stopford, Hon. General Edward, ii. 193.
Strahan, William, Esq. i. 227 ; ii. 153, 495 ; iii. 72.
. . - _ his letter recommending Johnson to be brought into Parlia-
ment, i. 494.
- - - - jun. his death, iii. 222.
Mrs. Johnson's letters to, iii. 223, 257.
Rev. Mr. iii. 367, 456, 488.
Strickland, Mrs. ii. 374, n.
Stratford Jubilee. See Garrick.
Stuart Family, ii. Q5.
...» Hon. Colonel James, iii. 101, 113.
- > - - Hon. and Rev. WiUiam, iii. 303.
- - - - Andrew, Esq. his letter to Lord Mansfield, ii. 73.
Study, method of, i. 60, 348, 359.
Style, iii. 4 ; and see Temple, Sir William.
- - - of English writers, how far distinguishable, iii. 4.
- - - miserably bad in general, in the beginning of the seventeenth
century, ii. 481.
- - - Johnson's, remarks on, i. 178, 179 ; ii- 423.
- - - various kinds of, ii. 42.
- - - the modern much superior to that ofthe last century, ii. 486 —
and to that of the reign of Queen Anne.
- - - inftances of particular imitations, iii. 464, 465, 466, 467, 468.
Subordination necessary for society and human happiness, i. 320,
345, 349, 397 ; ii. 11, 156, 497 ; iii. 88.
--..... the ground of all intellectual improvements, ii. 6."?.
538 INDEX.
Subordination impaired in England, in modern times, by the increase
of money, ii. 497.
Suicide, ii. 73 ; iii. 266.
Swallows, i. 431.
Swearing, ii. 22, 437-
Sweden, the late King of, ii. 391.
Swift, Earl Gower's letter to, concerning Johnson's obtaining a de-
gree, i. 108.
- - - Johnson's opinion of his Works, i. 352, 439 ; ii. 150.
.- of his Journal — ^letters to Stella, iii. 287.
- - - Johnson's Life of, iii. 190.
- - - Delany's and Lord Orrery's account of him, ii. 487.
Swinfen, Dr. i. 56, 69,
Swinton, Rev. Mr. i. 214.
Sydenham, Dr. Johnson's Life of, i. 124.
Sympathy with others in distress, i. 457.
T.
Table Talk, Sir Robert Walpole's rule for, ii. 319.
Tacitus, remarks on his style, ii. 40.
Talbot, Mrs. Catherine, i. 161.
« Tale of a Tub,' i. 352 ; ii. 150.
Taste, ii. 42.
- - - alters in the progress of life, i. 398.
Tastes and characters of men. Sir Joshua Reynold's standard for
judging of them, iii. 402.
Taverns, ii. 257-
* Taxation no Tyranny,* ii. 163.
Taylor, Rev. Dr. Johnson's visit to, ii. 277, 392, 430 ; iii. 457, 492.
- - - - Johnson's letters to, i. 1 89 ; iii. 327, 365.
- - - - anecdotes of, i. 41, 64, 157, 188 ; ii. 277, 406, 430.
- - - - Johnson's characteristick account of, ii. 395.
- - - - the Chevalier, iii. 93.
- - - - Jeremy, iii. 385.
- - - - the Editor of Demosthenes, iii, 34.
Tea, i. 245, 246. *
Temple, Rev. Mr. (the Authour's old and intimate friend,) i. 344,
396; ii. 149.
----- his well written character of Gray, iii 269.
----- Sir William, first gave cadence to English prose, ii. 493.
Tenderness, a want of, proof of a want of parts, i. 482.
Testimony, general, i. 335, 347 — compared with argument, iii. 375.
Tests," ii. 152.
Thames' wit, iii. 160.
Theocritus, iii. 142.
Thomas, Mr. Nathanael, ii. 350.
Thomas a Kempis, ii, 468 ; iii. 373.
Thomson, Rev. James, ii. 320, Sff seq.
the Poet, his works, i. 352, 438 ; ii. 305.
INDEX. 539
Thomson, the Poet, anecdotes of, ii. 373, 390 ; iii. 69.
Thornton, Bonnel, Esq. his burlesque ode for St. Cecilia's Day, i.
Thralei^ Henry, Esq. i. 383, 447 ; ii. 121 ; iii. 137, 211.
- - - - his death, iii. 211.
- - - - sale of his brewhouse, iii. 212.
- - - - Mrs. See Piozzi.
Thuanus, Johnson's proposed translation of, iii. 485.
Thurlow, Lord, his opinion on the Liberty of the Pulpit, ii. 326,
327.
._ ... his letter to Johnson, iii. 140.
. _ . . . Johnson's opinion of, iii. 289, 411.
..... his letter to the Authour on Johnson's proposed tour to
Italy, iii. 417.
Johnson's letter to him on that occasion, iii. 429.
Toleration, ii. 90, 94, 95 ; iii. 86, 149, 318.
Topham's case, ii. 289.
Toplady, Rev. Mr. ii. 94.
Torture in Holland, i. 365.
Tory, Johnson's description of, iii. 235, 383.
- - - moderate, when in opposition to government, iii. 222.
Towers, Dr. Joseph, ii. 148.
- - - - his ' Essay on the Life, &c. Johnson,' iii. 172.
Townley^ Charles, Esq. ii. 374.
Townly, Mr. (the engraver,) iii. 493, n.
Townsend, Right Hon. Charles, ii. 68.
Townson, Rev. Dr. iii. 391, n.
Trade, Johnson's remarks on, i. 460.
- - - - ad venturous, more persons ruined by it, than by gaming, ii.295»
Tradesmen retired from business, i. 480.
Translation, i. 71 ; ii. 304, 493, 494.
♦ Traveller,' Goldsmith's poem, i. 376.
----••- Johnson's lines in, i. 392 — his high praise of, ii. 78.
TraveUing, ii. 284, 304, 476, 502 ; iii. 20, 397, 406.
Travels, the Authour's, iii. 20.
- - - - books of, good in proportion to what the traveller has pre-
viously in his mind, iii. 21.
Trimleston, Lord, ii. 469.
Trinity, Johnson's belief in, and just disapprobation of its being dif-
cussed in a mixed company, ii. 95.
* Tristram .Shandy,' ii. 256.
Truth, importance of a regard to, i. 341 ; ii. 244, 245, 393, 470,
471 ; iii. 15, 105, 145, 146, 210, 280, 288, 393, 441.
' Turkish Spy,' authours of, iii. SOi.
Twiss's < Travels in Spain,' ii. 169.
Tyburn. See Execution of Criminals.
Tyers, Mr. Thomas, his odd description of Johnson, iii. 26.
... - anecdotes of, iii. 26. ^
Tyravvly, James O'Hara, second Lord, ii. 59.
Tytler's vindication of Mary, Queen of Scots, i. 278-
540 INDEX.
U.
* Universal History,' the Authours of, iii. 4-61.
Universities, English, not rich enough, i. 429 ; ii. 287>
Urban, Sylvanus, Johnson's latin ode to, i. 94.
Usher, Archbishop, i. 490.
Usury, ii. 297 ; iii« 53.
Valetudinarian, generally a disagreeable character, ii. 265.
' Vanity of Human Wishes,' Johnson's Poem, i. 153, 399 ; iii. 67-
Vanity cured by living in London, i. 480.
Vansittart, Dr. Robert, i. 274.
Vauxhall Gardens, iii. 26.
Veal, Mrs. ii. 20.
Vesey, Agmondesham, Esq. iii. 162.
* Vicar of Wakefield,' i. 325.
___--_■-__. written before the * Traveller,' but published
after, iii. 36.
— _-.._-__- two fine passages, originally in it, struck out
by the Auttiour, i'i. 82.
Vilette, Rev. Mr. (ordinary of Newgate,) his just claims on the pub-
lick, iii. 413.
'Village, Deserted,' Goldsmith's, i. 393.
* Village,' Rev. Mr. Crabbe's, iii. 286.
Virgil, compared with Homer, ii. 440.
- - - - Johnson's juvenile translations from, i. 45.
- - - - Baskerville's edition of, presented by Johnson to Pembroke
College, i. 441.
Virtue and Vice, iii. 61, 383.
* Vision of Theodore the Hermit,' considered by Johnson the best
thing he ever wrote, i. 153.
* Visitor, th£ Universal,' a periodical paper, ii. 169.
Vivacity, ac(|uirable, ii. 267.
Volcanoes, ii. 271-
Voltaire, i. 340, 388, 392, 396 ; iii. 66.
Vows, i. 405, 408 ; iii. 66, 67.
Vyse, Rev. Dr. ii. 381 ; iii. 452, «.
— - Johnson's letters to, ii. 381 ; iii. 478.
W.
Wales, Johnson's visit to, ii. 120.
Prince of. See Prince.
Walker, J. Cooper, Esq. of the Treasury Dublin, i. 251 ; ii. 36S.
~ - - - James, iii. 309, 310.
Wall, Dr. Physician at Oxford, iii. 384.
Wall of China, ii. 503-
INDEX. sn
Waller, the poet, ii. 180 ; iii. 30.
. extract from his ' Divine Poesy,' iii. 382.
- - - - Johnson's Life of, iii. 170.
Walmsley, Gilbert, Esq. i. 66, 68, 158.
- - - - his letter, recommending Johnson and Garrick, i. 84.
Walpole, Hon. Horace, iii. 401.
Sir Robert, his Administration defended, i. 106.
... - - his Table talk, ii. 319.
Walton, Isaac, his Lives, ii. 116, 119, 183, 253, 363.
Wapping, worth being explored, iii. 305.
War, ii. 500.
Warburton, i. 143, 206, 259.
made a Bishop by Pope, i. 419-
his contest with Lowth, i. 419.
Johnson's character of, iii. 177, 178, 380.
....-- his judgement concerning biographers, i. 27.
Ward, the noted Dr. iii. 93.
Warley Camp, iii. 69, &c.
Warren, the first bookseller in Birmingham, i. 70.
_ . - . Dr. his generous attendance on Johnson, during his last ill-
ness, iii. 476.
Warton, Rev. Dr. Joseph, his Essay on the Life and Genius of Pope,
i. 350 ; ii. 22.
- - - - Johnson's letters to, i. 198, 475.
- - - - Rev. Thomas, i. 8, 252, 258, 261, 263 ; ii. 254 ; iii. 146.
. _ - . his entertaining account of Johnson's conversation when at
Oxford, in 1752, i. 212.
- - - - Johnson's letters to, i. 211, 216, 217, 218, 219, 223, 229,
230, 252, 261, 262, 441, 475.
Waste, household, hardly definable, ii. 499.
Watson, Rev. Dr. (Bishop of LandafF,) iii. 236.
Watts, Dr. his works, i. 245.
... his Life, ii. 382 ; iii. 68.
Wealth, the right employment of, iii. 285.
Weather, its influence, i. 334, 352 ; ii. 179 ; iii. 440, «.
Webster, Rev. Dr. Alexander, ii. 106, 111.
Wedderburne. See Lotighbor ugh.
Welch, Saunders, Esq. ii. 459, 462 ; iii. 293.
Johnson's letter to, ii. 459.
Wentworth, Mr. Johnson's schoolmaster at Stourbridge, i. 44.
Wesley, Rev. John, ii. 472 ; iii. 17.
- - - - Johnson's letter to, iii. 97-
West's ' Pindar,' iii. 162.
Westcote, Lord, confirms to Johnson the truth of his nephew's vis.
ion, iii. 388.
Westminster Abbey, first Musical Festival at, iii. 376.
Wetherell, Rev. Dr. ii. 250 ; iii. 396.
...... Jolmson's letter to, ii. 236.
Wheeler, Rev. Dr. Johnson's letter to, iii. 74.
Whiggism, a negation of all principle, i. 338.
VOL. III. 69
542 INDEX,
Whigs, Johnson's definition of, iii. 235.
_ ... no great private enmity between them and Tories, iii. 383.
White, Rev. Mr. Henry, iii. 452.
- - - - Rev. Dr. Joseph, ii. 56.
Whitefield, Rev. George, his character, i. 64-, 449 ; iii. 109.
Whitefoord, Caleb, Esq. iii. 407-
Whitehead, Paul, Esq. i. 103.
William, Esq. i. 30 ; iii. 233.
* Whole Duty of Man,' conjectures on its authour, ii. 80.
Wife, praise from one, delightful, i. 167.
- - - qualities of. Sir Thomas Overbury's verses on, i. 446.
- - . a studious, argumentative one, very troublesome, iii. 165.
Wilcox, Mr. the Bookseller, i. 85.
Wilkes, John. Esq. hhjeu d' esprit on Johnson's Dictionary, i. 236.
- . - - meetings between hirw and Johnson, ii. 331, ^ seg. ; iii. 223. \
.... Johnson's opinion of, ii. 432. 3
- - - - anecdotes of gallantry related by him, iii. 427. i
- - - - his advice how to speak at the Bar of the House of Com- '
mons, ii. 467.
- - - - his pleasantry on Johnson and himself as to their politicks and <
religion, ii. 467.
William III. King, ii. 166.
Williams, Mr. Zachary, i. 185, 215, 237, 238.
Mrs. Anna, i. 185, 329, 361, 461 ; ii. 9, 330, 351, 353,
385, 389 ; iii. 72.
----- her general peevishness, ii. 297, 463 ; iii. 218.
. - - - . Johnson's tenderness for her, ii. 297 ; iii. 54.
her death, iii. 333, 338.
Miss Helen Maria, iii. 375, 376.
----- Sir Charles Hanbury, i. 417.
Wilson, Rev. Mr. Johnson's letter to, iii. 276.
Windham, Right Hon. William, ii. 375 ; iii. 304, 486, 488.
- - „ „ . Johnson's high eulogium on, iii. 436, ,;
----- Johnson's letters to, iii. 325, 442.
Wine, the use of, ii. 39, 43, 246, 30S, 421, 482, 483, 487 ; iu. 24,
41, 49, 92,200, 206,215.
Wirtemberg, Prince of, anecdote of, ii. 33.
Wit, iii. 225.
Witches, ii. 31 ; iii. 87. See Shakspeare.
Woodhouse, the poetical shoemaker, i. 486.
Words, big ones, not to be used for little matters, i. 367*
* World, the,' Periodical Essays, i. 329.
Wraxall, N. W. Esq. iii. 124.
X.
Xenophon's Treatise on Economy, ii. 351.
* Retreat of the Ten Thousand,' (Booki.) affords the
earliest specimen of a delineation of characters, iii. 165.
Xerxes, Juvenal's fine verses on, ii. 72.
INDEX, , <43
Yonge, Sir William, i. 158 ; ii. 18.
Young, Rev. Dr. his ' Night Thoughts,' i. 1Y2, 459 ; iii. 189.
- - - - Johnson's Life of, iii. 187.
- - - - anecdotes of, iii. 1&8 189, 237, 238, 239.
- - . . pined for preferment, yet affected to despise it, ii. 488.
- - - - his fine image of delicate satire, iii. 388.
- - - - Mr. (Professor of Greek at Glasgow,) his * Criticisms on
Gray's Elegy,' in imitation of Johnson, iii. 470.
Zeck, anecdote of, i. 393.
* Zobeide,' a Tragedy, ii. 306.
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