Class 
 
 Book 
 
 Copyright N?._ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSflV 
 
SIR JOSHUA HEYNOLCS 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON 
 1709-1784 
 
A SELECTION FROM 
 
 THE LIFE OF 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. 
 
 EDITED WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION 
 BY 
 
 MAX J. HERZBERG 
 
 Head of the English Department, Central High School, Newark, N. J, 
 
 D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 
 

 Copyright, 1916, 
 
 By D. C. Heath & Co. 
 1C6 
 
 P) 
 
 t/0 
 
 APR -I 1916 
 ©CLA427493 
 
 ■■/• 
 
PREFACE 
 
 There can certainly be no more profitable or pleasant task 
 for the English teacher than to foster in pupils a liking for 
 Boswell. In Bos well they will find a striking portrait of a 
 wise and good man, who is made to appear at all times 
 thoroughly human; at the same time BoswelPs biography is 
 a remarkably vivid mirror of that interesting epoch, the 
 eighteenth century. Students should carry away from 
 Boswell many striking sentiments on life and literature, 
 much plain wisdom regarding everyday affairs, and some 
 acquaintance with the art of true conversation. BoswelPs 
 narrative is, moreover, unique in its skill and accuracy as a 
 biography, and is a model in that significant kind of writing. 
 It is a common observation that few works have won for 
 themselves so much affection as BoswelPs great record, and 
 even those, who (like Macaulay) despise the author, read his 
 production, and all writings that bear upon it, with unabated 
 eagerness. 
 
 It should be the teacher's object in reading the following 
 selections to encourage the student to read Boswell unabridged 
 and to go on to the other literature that has accumulated 
 around Johnson. To assist in this object a full list of sug- 
 gestions for supplementary reading has been provided. 
 
 The attempt has been made in the actual selections to 
 have Boswell tell (despite the large omissions) a story as 
 nearly consecutive as possible, in which gaps should be not 
 too obtrusive. The editor has been careful not to alter the 
 words of Boswell. His spelling, however, has been modern- 
 ized, and his punctuation, in a number of cases, altered. 
 
 The actual process of selection presented, of course, a be- 
 wilderment of riches. This is the apology that may be 
 offered to readers who miss this or that favorite passage. 
 Such readers may be assured that only exigencies of space 
 and the limitations of the college entrance requirements 
 occasioned the reluctant omission of many striking anecdotes 
 and sayings. 
 
 iii 
 
IV PREFACE 
 
 With some hesitation the division into chapters was 
 adopted. These are lacking in the original editions of 
 Boswell, and have been adopted in only one complete edition 
 since Malone's. It seemed advisable, however, for ped- 
 agogical reasons, to adopt these sections and to provide some 
 topical indication of the contents. 
 
 The choice of particular passages was often dictated by 
 the fact that many teachers will unquestionably use Bos- 
 weirs biography in conjunction with Macaulay's Life of 
 Johnson. The student will compare to his advantage the 
 methods of two masters of the art of biography; and to en- 
 able him to do this more readily, passages in Boswell have 
 been selected which contain facts on which Macaulay based 
 his remarks. There is, of course, another point for the 
 student to make at the same time: that Macaulay laid on 
 the colors too thick, that he often exaggerated or misinter- 
 preted. A set of exercises has been provided to guide the 
 student in the task of comparison. 
 
 M. J. H. 
 
 February, 1916. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 Introduction 
 
 James Boswell . . vii 
 
 Critical Opinions on Boswell and his Life of Jo hnson . xii 
 
 The Chief Members of the Club xix 
 
 "Retaliation": a Poem by Oliver Goldsmith . . . xxi 
 
 Suggested Reading . xxiv 
 
 Questions and Exercises xxviii 
 
 Dedication 3 
 
 Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D 7 
 
 Extracts from Johnson's Works 235 
 
 Sayings and Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson . . . 24fr 
 
 Notes 255 
 
 Index 275 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 dr. samuel johnson Frontispiece 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds p 
 
 maps of london in 1780 xxxii-xxxiii " 
 
 INSCRIPTION ON THE PEW IN ST. CLEMENT DANES . . 6^ 
 
 james boswell facing 1 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD ..... " 10 
 
 DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON IN MEDITATION ... 66 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 
 HESTER LYNCH THRALE 92 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds 
 
 DR. JOHNSON IN HIS TRAVELLING DRESS . . " 130 
 
 DIAGRAM OF THE POETS' CORNER, WESTMINSTER ABBEY . 234 
 
 VI 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 James Boswell 
 
 The eccentric Scotch lawyer James Boswell has, since the 
 appearance of his biography of Dr. Samuel Johnson, become 
 one of the most baffling problems of English literature. His 
 Life of Johnson at once took its place as perhaps the greatest 
 of all biographies; but, the question was asked, how did a 
 man apparently of such petty talents as Boswell possessed 
 ever come to write this greatest of biographies? Some 
 critics, like Macaulay, explained the difficulty by saying that 
 BoswelPs work was so great because he himself was so petty. 
 It soon became evident, however, that this explanation was 
 as ridiculous as it would be to say that a horse pulled a load 
 up a hill because he was so weak. Carlyle took the sensible 
 view that there were in Boswell certain noble instincts that 
 amply explained his production of so notable a work as the 
 biography of Johnson. But even Carlyle did not see the 
 whole truth. 
 
 James Boswell was born in Edinburgh on October 29, 1740. 
 Alexander Boswell his father, a strong Whig and active 
 member of the Scotch church, was by profession a lawyer, 
 and in 1754 was raised to the bench with the title of Lord 
 Au^hinleck. 1 To Lord Auchinleck James Boswell was as 
 distracting a problem as the traditional ugly duckling among 
 the hen's brood. From a very early period the son proved 
 himself something of a ne'er-do-well. He was vain, inquisi- 
 tive, boastful, given overmuch to the drinking of wine, and 
 fond of rather boisterous company. Neither his opinions 
 nor his principles were firmly fixed; and though he often 
 made good resolutions, he was almost as often a backslider. 
 In politics and in religion alike he vexed his father's heart, 
 and there were frequently bitter quarrels between sire and 
 son and sometimes threats of disinheritance, 
 
 1 Pronounced as a dissyllable, "Affleck.'* 
 vii 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 James Boswell, however, had certain qualities which might 
 perhaps have won him more approbation, had they been set 
 on some other background than that of his apparently 
 frivolous and foolish character. He had an ardent respect 
 and admiration for learning, coupled perhaps with some- 
 what too high a view of his own attainments. He had, 
 moreover, a particular veneration for great men, and the 
 great men whom he chose for what Carlyle has called " hero- 
 worship' 7 were such as did considerable honor to his own 
 character. He showed indeed much discrimination in this 
 respect, sometimes choosing for his personal regard great 
 men of a type whom mere "men of the world" rather de- 
 spised. As a matter of fact, the men whom Boswell most 
 intensely admired, did not excite equal regard among the 
 other members of Boswell's circle. They, unlike Boswell, 
 often failed to see the greatness beneath the uncouth ex- 
 terior. 
 
 Boswell, after a residence at the University of Edinburgh, 
 resolved, with the reluctant consent of his father, to take 
 what was called "the Grand Tour" on the Continent, be- 
 ginning with a stay at the schools of Utrecht. It was before 
 he set out, in 1763, that he made the acquaintance of Dr. 
 Johnson, as described in the text. Before this time he had 
 already tried his hand at various pamphlets and much foolish 
 verse. On the Continent Boswell, with his usual persist- 
 ence, managed to see a great deal that was worth while. 
 Incidentally, he varied the usual course of the Grand Tour 
 by visiting Corsica, where he made the acquaintance of a 
 stalwart, noble soul, General Paoli, the would-be liberator 
 of Corsica. Later, when Paoli was obliged to take refuge in 
 England, his home in London became Boswell's residence 
 when he was in that city, and Paoli exercised on Boswell the 
 best of influences. 
 
 On his return, Boswell became a practising lawyer in 
 Edinburgh, although he constantly longed to establish him- 
 self in London. He continued his fruitful friendship with 
 Dr. Johnson, jotting down notes of his conversations with 
 him, making the acquaintance of Johnson's circle, and ulti- 
 
JAMES BOSWELL IX 
 
 mately being admitted to the famous Literary Club which 
 Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds had founded. From 
 a very early period he had formed the project of writing 
 Johnson's biography, and many of his talks with the famous 
 literary dictator, who was quite well aware of his admirer's 
 design, were directed toward obtaining information regard- 
 ing Johnson's early life. Johnson, it must be remembered, 
 was more than fifty years old when Boswell first made his 
 acquaintance. The relations between the two men were 
 cordial, at moments affectionate. Johnson realized the deep 
 veneration entertained for him by Boswell, and he could not 
 have failed to perceive that the latter possessed certain noble 
 qualities. Moreover, his own melancholy moods were dis- 
 pelled by Boswell's high spirits. At times Boswell, under 
 the influence of vanity or, worse still, of wine, was guilty of 
 offences against good taste, but Johnson, like Paoli, exer- 
 cised on the young Scotchman a wholesome and paternal 
 influence. 
 
 While Johnson was still living, Boswell composed two works 
 which served to prepare the way for the composition of his 
 Life of Johnson. The first was an account of Boswell's ex- 
 periences in Corsica, and here he already exhibited those 
 qualities that were , to make his masterpiece notable — the 
 power to render a situation graphically, to tell an anecdote 
 in an effective fashion, and to characterize the persons of 
 his story vividly. In 1769 Boswell had married his cousin 
 and set up a home, still not without difficulties with his 
 father, and in 1773 he and Johnson carried out a long-cherished 
 idea of touring Scotland and the Hebrides. They were a re- 
 markable pair, the clumsy, wise English lexicographer and 
 the unimpressive, clever Scotch lawyer. They had some 
 remarkable adventures, met many famous Scotchmen, and 
 each in his way recorded interesting details of his tour. 
 Johnson's account of the trip was published shortly; Bos- 
 well's, however, not until after Johnson's death. 
 
 The friendly intercourse between the two men continued, 
 with some interruptions, until Johnson's death in 1784. 
 Then Boswell set about preparing his collected material for 
 
X INTRODUCTION 
 
 the press, first the Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, then on 
 Monday, May 16, 1791, by a lucky chance the twenty-eighth 
 anniversary of his first meeting with Johnson, his magnum 
 opus, The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. Thereafter Bos- 
 welPs life was but a sorry one. He cherished unwise political 
 ambitions, he attempted to secure practice at the London 
 bar, some of his bad personal habits again got the better of 
 him. His only consolation was the preparation of a second 
 edition of the Life, for it had been a great and immediate 
 success, 1200 copies being disposed of in four months — a 
 considerable number in those days. On May 19, 1795, he 
 died, after an illness of five weeks, in his fifty-fifth year. 
 
 In personal appearance Boswell was rather above the 
 middle height, says Charles Rogers, and inclined to corpu- 
 lency. He walked with a stately gait, and in his costume 
 observed the latest fashion. He had a large head, and wore 
 a powdered wig; his prominent but well-set features beamed 
 with perpetual good humor. "It was impossible," re- 
 marked a contemporary, "to look in his face without being 
 moved by the comicality which always reigned upon it." 
 He talked much and with rapidity, but his observant mind was 
 not observant to those who met him only casually in society. 
 
 The view is sometimes entertained that Boswell wrote his 
 great work with unconscious art, by accident, as it were. 
 No view could be further from the mark. He himself in his 
 introduction to the Life describes his methods in a way that 
 shows he employed conscious art. He says: "Instead of 
 melting down my materials into one mass and constantly 
 speaking in my own person, by which I might have ap- 
 peared to have more merit in the execution of the work, I 
 have resolved to adopt and enlarge upon the excellent plan 
 of Mr. Mason, in his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever narrative 
 is necessary to explain, connect, and supply, I furnish it to 
 the best of my abilities; but in the chronological series of 
 Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by 
 year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, 
 letters, or conversation, being convinced that this mode is 
 more lively, and will make my readers better acquainted 
 
JAMES BOSWELL XI 
 
 with him, than even most of those were who actually knew 
 him, but could know him only partially; whereas there is 
 here an accumulation of intelligence from various points, by 
 which the character is more fully understood and illustrated/ ' 
 Again, in a letter to his lifelong friend, William Johnson 
 Temple, Boswell wrote: "I am absolutely certain that my 
 mode of biography, which gives not only a history of John- 
 son's visible progress through the world and of his publica- 
 tions, but a view of his mind in his letters and conversations, 
 is the most perfect that can be conceived, and will be more of 
 a Life than any work that has ever appeared ," an opinion 
 in which time has certainly justified him. In another letter 
 he claimed of his book that it might be " without exception 
 the most entertaining book ever read." Finally, he speaks 
 of "the Flemish portrait" he draws of Johnson, from which 
 "the most minute particulars" must not be absent. 
 
 Two of Johnson's closest friends have delivered illuminat- 
 ing opinions upon Bosw T eirs Life. Burke, the greatest of 
 English orators, said: "He [Johnson] is greater in Boswell's 
 books than in his own." In other words, Boswell gives 
 posterity a finer and truer idea of the essential greatness of 
 the renowned sage than a reading of Rasselas or The Lives of 
 the Poets would give. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the great painter, 
 remarked that every word of Boswell's Life of Johnson might 
 be depended upon as if delivered upon oath, and he permitted 
 the book to be dedicated to him. This remark emphasizes 
 one of Boswell's most admirable qualities — his indefatigable 
 zeal in verifying every last detail of Johnson's life. No 
 trouble was too great, no energy wasted, that enabled him 
 to clinch a fact as true. Other qualities of Boswell are 
 brought out in the remarks of critics upon him quoted else- 
 where in this Introduction; the student should consult 
 these. The reader whose curiosity has been aroused as to 
 the strange character of James Boswell might remember the 
 latter's observation regarding himself, that "from a certain 
 peculiarly open, frank, and ostentatious disposition which he 
 avows, his history, like that of the old Seigneur Michael de 
 Montaigne, is to be traced in his writings." 
 
XU INTRODUCTION 
 
 Critical Opinions on Boswell and His " Life of Johnson " 
 
 " Here Boswell lies! drop o'er his tomb a tear. 
 Let no malignant tongue pursue him here; 
 Bury his failings in the silent grave, 
 And from unfriendly hands his memory save. 
 Record the praise he purchased, let his name 
 • Mount on the wings of literary fame, 
 And to his honor say, ' Here Boswell lies, 
 Whose pleasing pen adorned the good and wise. 
 Whose memory down the stream of time shall flow 
 Far as famed Johnson's or Paoli's go!'" 
 
 — Proposed Epitaph by Robert Boswell. 
 
 '"Who is this Scotch cur at Johnson's heels?' asked someone, 
 amazed at the sudden intimacy. 'He is not a cur,' answered Gold- 
 smith; 'you are too severe. He is only a burr. Tom Davies flung 
 him at Johnson in sport and he has the faculty of sticking.'" 
 
 — Sir James Prior. 
 
 "Few figures were better known in London artistic and literary 
 society than his — paunchy and puffy, with red face, long cocked 
 nose, protuberant mouth and chin, with much solemnity of manner 
 and voice, with slow gait and slovenly dress — the clothes being 
 loose, the wig untidy, the gestures restless so as to resemble his great 
 master, of whom he incessantly spoke, and whose big manner and 
 oddities he mimicked with infinite drollery, making listeners con- 
 vulse with laughter at the exquisite, but irreverent copy of his 
 'revered friend.'" — Henry Gray Graham. 
 
 "Considering the eminent persons to whom it relates, the quantity 
 of miscellaneous information and entertaining gossip which it brings 
 together, [it] may be termed, without exception, the best parlor- 
 window book that was ever written." — Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 "It was a strange and fortunate concurrence, that one so prone to 
 talk and who talked so well, should be brought into close contact 
 and confidence with one so zealous and so able to record. Dr. 
 Johnson was a man of extraordinary powers, but Mr. Boswell had 
 qualities, in their own way, almost as rare. He united lively man- 
 ners with indefatigable diligence, and the volatile curiosity of a man 
 about town with the drudging patience of a chronicler with a very 
 good opinion of himself; he was quick in discerning, and frank in 
 applauding, the excellencies of others. Though proud of his own 
 name and lineage, and ambitious of the countenance of the great, he 
 was yet so cordial an admirer of merit, wherever found, that much 
 public ridicule, and something like contempt, were excited by the 
 modest assurance with which he pressed his acquaintance on all the 
 notorieties of his time. His contemporaries indeed, not without 
 
CRITICAL OPINIONS Xlll 
 
 some color of reason, occasionally complained of him as vain, in- 
 quisitive, troublesome, and giddy; but his vanity was inoffensive 
 — his curiosity was commonly directed towards laudable objects — 
 when he meddled he did so, generally, from good-natured motives — 
 his giddiness was only an exuberant gayety, which never failed in 
 the respect and reverence due to literature, morals, and religion." 
 
 — John Wilson Croker. 
 
 "The Life of Johnson is assuredly a great, a very great work. 
 Homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets, Shakspere is 
 not more decidedly the first of dramatists, Demosthenes is not more 
 decidedly the first of orators, than Boswell is the first of biographers. 
 He has no second. He has distanced all his competitors so de- 
 cidedly that it is not worth while to place them. Eclipse is first, and 
 the rest nowhere. 
 
 "We are not sure that there is in the whole history of the human 
 intellect so strange a phenomenon as this book. Many of the great- 
 est men that ever lived have written biography. Boswell was one 
 of the smallest men that ever lived, and he has beaten them all. He 
 was, if we are to give any credit to his own account or to the united 
 testimony of all who knew him, a man of the meanest and feeblest 
 intellect. . . . Servile and impertinent, shallow and pedantic, a bigot 
 and a sot, bloated with family pride, and eternally blustering about 
 the dignity of a born gentleman, yet stooping to be a tale-bearer, an 
 eavesdropper, a common butt in the taverns of London, so curious 
 to know everybody who Was talked about, that, Tory and high 
 Churchman as he was, he manoeuvred, we have been told, for an 
 introduction to Tom Paine, so vain of the most childish distinction, 
 that when he had been to court, he drove to the office where his 
 book was printing without changing his clothes, and summoned all 
 the printer's devils to admire his new ruffles and sword; such was 
 this man, and such he was content and proud to be. Everything 
 which another man would have hidden, everything the publication 
 of which would have made another man hang himself, was matter 
 of gay and clamorous exultation to his weak and diseased mind. . . . 
 
 "That such a man should have written one of the best books in 
 the world is strange enough. But this is not all. Many persons 
 who have conducted themselves foolishly in active life, and whose 
 conversation has indicated no superior powers of mind, have left 
 us valuable works. Goldsmith was very justly described by one of 
 his contemporaries as an inspired idiot, and by another as a being 
 
 'Who wrote like an angel, and talked like poor Poll.* 
 
 La Fontaine was in society a mere simpleton. His blunders would 
 not come in amiss among the stories of Hierocles. But these men 
 attained literary eminence in spite of their weaknesses. Boswell 
 attained it by reason of his weaknesses. If he had not been a great 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION 
 
 fool, he would never have been a great writer. Without all the 
 qualities which made him the jest and the torment of those among 
 whom he lived, without the officiousness, the inquisitiveness, the 
 effrontery, the toad-eating, the insensibility to all reproof, he never 
 could have produced so excellent a book. He was a slave, proud of 
 his servitude, a Paul Pry, convinced that his own curiosity and 
 garrulity were virtues, an unsafe companion who never scrupled to 
 repay the most liberal hospitality by the basest violation of confidence, 
 a man without delicacy, without shame, without sense enough to 
 know when he was hurting the feelings of others or when he was ex- 
 posing himself to derision; and because he was all this, he has, in an 
 important department of literature, immeasurably surpassed such 
 writers as Tacitus, Clarendon, Alfieri, and his own idle Johnson. 
 
 "Of the talents which ordinarily raise men to eminence as writers, 
 Boswell had absolutely none. There is not in all his books a single 
 remark of his own on literature, politics, religion, or society, which 
 is not either commonplace or absurd. His dissertations on heredi- 
 tary gentility, on the slave-trade, and on the entailing of landed 
 estates, may serve as examples. To say that these passages are 
 sophistical would be to pay them an extravagant compliment. 
 They have no pretence to argument, or even to meaning. He has 
 reported innumerable observations made by himself in the course 
 of conversation. Of those observations we do not remember one 
 which is above the intellectual capacity of a boy of fifteen. He has 
 printed many of his own letters, and in these letters he is always 
 ranting or twaddling. Logic, eloquence, wit, taste, all those things 
 which are generally considered as making a book valuable, were 
 utterly wanting in him. He had, indeed, a quick observation and 
 a retentive memory. These qualities, if he had been a man of sense 
 and virtue, would scarcely of themselves have sufficed to make him 
 conspicuous; but, because he was a dunce, a parasite, and a cox- 
 comb, they have made him immortal." 
 
 — Thomas Bdbington Macaulay. 
 
 "Boswell has already been much commented upon; but rather 
 in the way of censure and vituperation, than of true recognition. 
 He was a man that brought himself much before the world; con- 
 fessed that he eagerly coveted fame, or if that were not possible, 
 notoriety; of which latter as he gained far more than seemed his 
 due, the public were incited, not only by their natural love of scandal, 
 but by a special ground of envy, to say whatever ill of him could be 
 said. Out of the fifteen millions that then lived, and had bed and 
 board, in the British Islands, this man has provided us a greater 
 pleasure than any other individual, at whose cost we now enjoy our- 
 selves; perhaps has done us a greater service than can be specially 
 attributed to more than two or three; yet, ungrateful that we are, 
 no written or spoken eulogy of James Boswell anywhere exists; his 
 recompense in solid pudding (so far as copyright went) was not ex- 
 
CRITICAL OPINIONS XV 
 
 cessive; and as for the empty praise, it has altogether been denied 
 him. Men are un wiser than children; they do not know the hand 
 that feeds them. 
 
 "Boswell was a person whose mean or bad qualities lay open to 
 the general eye; visible, palpable to the dullest. His good qualities 
 belonged not to the Time he lived in; were far from common then; 
 indeed, in such a degree, were almost unexampled; not recognizable 
 therefore by every one; nay, apt even [so strange had they grown] 
 to be confounded with the very vices they lay contiguous to and had 
 sprung out of. That he was a winebibber and gross liver; glut- 
 tonously fond of whatever would yield him a little solacement, were 
 it only of a stomachic character, is undeniable enough. That he was 
 vain, heedless, a babbler; had much of the sycophant, alternating 
 with the braggadocio, curiously spiced too with an all-pervading 
 dash of the coxcomb; that he gloried much when the Tailor, by a 
 court-suit, had made a new man of him; that he appeared at the 
 Shakespeare Jubilee with a riband, imprinted 'Corsica Boswell,' 
 round his hat;* and in short, if you will, lived no day of his life 
 without doing and saying more than one pretentious ineptitude: all 
 this unhappily is evident as the sun at noon. . . . 
 
 "Unfortunately, on the other hand, what great and genuine good 
 lay in him was nowise so self-evident. That Boswell was a hunter 
 after spiritual Notabilities, that he loved such, and longed, and even 
 crept and crawled to be near them; that he first (in old Touchwood 
 Auchinleck's phraseology) 'took on with Paoli;' and then being off 
 with 'the Corsican landlouper/ took on with a schoolmaster, 'ane 
 that keeped a schule, and ca'd it an academy:' that he did all this, 
 and could not help doing it, we account a very singular merit. The 
 man, once for all, had an ' open sense,' an open loving heart, which 
 so few have: where Excellence existed, he was compelled to ac- 
 knowledge it; was drawn towards it, and (let the old sulphur-brand 
 of a Laird say what he liked) could not but walk with it, — if not as 
 superior, if not as equal, then as inferior and lackey, better so than 
 not at all." — Thomas Carlyle. 
 
 "As for the Book itself, questionless the universal favor enter- 
 tained for it is well merited. In worth as a Book we have rated it 
 beyond any other product of the eighteenth century: all Johnson's, 
 own writings, laborious and in their kind genuine above most, 
 stand on a quite inferior level to it; already, indeed, they are be- 
 coming obsolete for this generation; and for some future generation 
 may be valuable chiefly as Prolegomena and expository Scholia to 
 this Johnsoniad of Boswell. Which of us but remembers, as one of 
 the sunny spots in his existence, the day when he opened these airy 
 volumes, fascinating him by a true natural-magic! It was as if the 
 
 * Investigation has now proved that this story of Boswell and his riband is 
 quite without foundation. — Ed. 
 
XVI INTRODUCTION 
 
 curtains of the past were drawn aside, and we looked mysteriously 
 into a kindred country, where dwelt our Fathers; inexpressibly dear 
 to us, but which had seemed forever hidden from our eyes. For the 
 dead Night had engulfed it; all was gone, vanished as if it had not 
 been. Nevertheless, wondrously given back to us, there once more 
 it lay; all bright, lucid, blooming; a little island of Creation amid 
 the circumambient Void. There it still lies; like a thing stationary, 
 imperishable, over which changeful Time were now accumulating 
 itself in vain, and could not, any longer, harm it or hide it." 
 
 — Thomas Carlyle. 
 
 "Boswell's unconscious art is wonderful, and so is the result 
 attained. The book has arrested, as never book did before, time 
 and decay. Bozzy is really a wizard: he makes the sun stand still.". 
 ^__ — Alexander Smith. 
 
 "Boswell's Johnson is for me a sort of test-book: according to a 
 man's judgment of it, I am apt to form my judgment of him. It may 
 not always be a very good test, but it is never a very bad one." 
 L — George Henry Lewes. 
 
 "Boswell's charm for us is ever his inextinguishable and instinctive 
 humanity — the transparent way in which, through the infinite 
 variety of moods that chase one another over the surface of his mind, 
 he thinks aloud (as primitive men and criminals, it is said, are wont 
 to do) and in the thinking aloud reveals the iridescent Everyman that 
 lurks in each one of us." — Thomas Seccombe. 
 
 "His singular gifts as an observer could only escape notice from a 
 careless or inexperienced reader. Boswell has a little of the true 
 Shakespearian secret. He lets his characters show themselves with- 
 out obtruding unnecessary comment. He never misses the point 
 of a story, though he does not ostentatiously call our attention to 
 it. He gives just what is wanted to indicate character, or to explain 
 the full meaning of a repartee. It is not till we compare his re- 
 ports with those of less skillful hearers, that we can appreciate the 
 skill with which the essence of a conversation is extracted, and the 
 whole scene indicated by a few telling touches. We are tempted to 
 fancy that we have heard the very thing, really infer that Boswell 
 was simply the mechanical transmitter of the good things uttered. 
 Anyone who will try to put down the pith of a brilliant conversation 
 within the same space, may soon satisfy himself of the absurdity of 
 such an hypothesis, and will learn to appreciate Boswell 's powers not 
 only of memory but artistic representation. Such a feat implies 
 not only admirable quickness of appreciation, but a rare literary 
 faculty. Boswell's accuracy is remarkable; but it is the least part 
 of his merit." — Leslie Stephen. 
 
 "The universal verdict of mankind has placed this work among 
 the five or six most interesting and stimulating of the world's books." 
 
 — Edmund Gosse. 
 
CRITICAL OPINIONS XV11 
 
 "What would the world have thought of Samuel Johnson at the 
 end of a hundred years if a silly little Scottish laird had not made a 
 hero of him, to be worshipped as no literary man was ever worshipped 
 before or since, and if he had not written a biography of him which 
 is the best in any language, and the model for all others?" 
 
 — Lawrence Hutton. 
 
 "Those who think that James Boswell was a vain and shallow 
 coxcomb of mediocre abilities, without intellectual gifts of any 
 eminence, are confronted with the fact that this supposed fool was 
 the unaided author of two of the most graphic and most readable 
 works which the eighteenth century has left us. It is right that 
 Boswell's claim to a high independent place in literature should be 
 vindicated, and the fact is that, after Burke and Goldsmith, he is 
 by far the most considerable of the literary companions of Johnson. 
 That he has risen into fame on the shoulders of that great man is 
 true, but the fact has been insisted upon until his own genuine and 
 peculiar merits have been most unduly overlooked." 
 
 — Edmund Gosse. 
 
 "The extraordinary vitality of Johnson is one of the most inter- 
 esting phenomena in literary history. That the greater part of it 
 did not exhale with the fading memory of his friends is due to the 
 genius of his principal disciple. It has been customary to deny 
 capacity of every kind to James Boswell, who had, indeed, several 
 of the characteristics of a fool; but the qualities which render the 
 Life of Johnson one of the great books of the world are not accidental, 
 and it would be an equal injustice to consider them inherent in the 
 subject. The life and letters of Gray, which Mason had published 
 in 1775, gave Boswell a model for his form, but it was a model which 
 he excelled in every feature. By Mason and Boswell a species of 
 literature was introduced into England which was destined to enjoy 
 a popularity that never stood higher than it does at this moment. 
 Biographies had up to this time been perfunctory affairs, either 
 trivial or unessential collections of anecdotes, or else pompous 
 eulogies from which the breath of life was absent. But Mason and 
 Boswell made their heroes paint their own portraits, by the skillful 
 interpolation of letters, by the use of anecdotes, by the manipulation 
 of the recollections of others; they adapted to biography the newly 
 discovered formulas of the anti-romantic novelists, and aimed at 
 the production of a figure that should be interesting, lifelike, and 
 true." — Edmund Gosse. 
 
 "Boswell was not very witty, nor very wise, but he had an ex- 
 quisite appreciation of wit and wisdom. He avows again and again 
 that he only recorded portions of what he heard, and the internal 
 evidence would prove of itself without his assertion, that he win- 
 nowed his matter. No wholesale or servile report could possess the 
 vigor and raciness of his selections. In one or two instances others 
 
XV1U INTRODUCTION 
 
 have retailed the same conversations as himself, at more than treble 
 the length, and with not the tithe of the spirit. His tact is the more 
 remarkable, that he carefully treasured up trifles, when, to use his 
 own words, 'they were amusing and characteristic,' and it is seldom 
 in these cases that his judgment is at fault. Fitzherbert said that 
 it was not every man who could carry a bon mot, and probably 
 no man carries witticisms correctly, who has not himself a full 
 comprehension of their point. Boswell carried repartees, maxims, 
 and arguments with accuracy, because he felt their force, and through- 
 out his work details them in a manner which shows the keenness of 
 his relish. To follow the hum of conversation with so much intelli- 
 gence, and, amid the confused medley, to distinguish what was 
 worthy to be observed, required unusual quickness of observation 
 and cannot be reconciled to the notion that he was simply endowed 
 with strength of memory." — Whitwell Elwin. 
 
 " In his accurate reproduction of life, Boswell surpasses all the 
 realists and attains to something of the inexhaustibility of nature 
 itself. Delightful as is his book for mere reading, it can never be 
 fully appreciated till it has been used as a work of reference; for such 
 it was intended to be. The work exhibits, according to the title- 
 page, ' a view of literature and literary men in Great Britain for near 
 half a century.' Boswell aspired to be not only stenographer but 
 historian. And to the life that he loved he was both." 
 
 — Chauncey Brewster Tinker. 
 
MEMBERS OF THE CLUB XIX 
 
 The Chief Members of the Club l 
 
 The Club was founded in 1764 by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Dr. 
 Samuel Johnson, and for some years met on Monday evenings. In 
 1772 the day of meeting was changed to Fridays, and about that 
 time, instead of supping, the Club agreed to dine together once in 
 every fortnight. In 1773 the Club, which at its foundation con- 
 sisted of twelve members, was enlarged to twenty; in 1777 to twenty- 
 six; in 1778 to thirty; in 1780 to thirty-five. It was then resolved 
 that it should never exceed forty. Originally the Club met at the 
 Turk's Head, in Gerrard Street, London, and continued to meet there 
 until 1783, when their landlord died and the house was shut up. 
 Thereafter, for a time, they met at Prince's in Sackville Street. 
 The Club is still in existence. 
 
 1. Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792). A great painter, a clever 
 man, and a fine gentleman. In addition to preserving for us the 
 physical appearance of many of his great contemporaries, and of the 
 fine ladies and gentlemen of the day, Reynolds delivered some able 
 lectures as president of the Royal Academy and contributed three 
 numbers to Johnson's Idler. Reynolds, who was rather hard of 
 hearing, usually carried an ear trumpet; it is said that he became 
 particularly hard of hearing when a bore approached. 
 
 2. Edmund Burke (1729-1797). A great English statesman and 
 an even greater English writer. He was concerned in three great 
 causes: that of the American colonies, whose views he espoused 
 that of the French Revolution, the violence of which horrified him; 
 and that of Warren Hastings, whom he impeached for his crimes 
 against India. Burke and Johnson entertained the profoundest ad- 
 miration for each other. 
 
 3. Bennet Langton (1737-1801). Langton was an ardent stu- 
 dent of Greek and Roman writers, and succeeded Johnson as Pro- 
 fessor of Ancient Literature in the Royal Academy. He was a man 
 of great goodness of character. 
 
 4. Topham Beauclerk (1739-1780). Beau clerk was the "fine 
 gentleman" of Johnson's circle. He belonged to an ancient noble 
 family, and reckoned his descent direct from Henry IV of France 
 and Charles II of England. He had undoubted talents and won 
 the close affection of Langton and of Johnson. 
 
 5. Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774). Every group has its butt: 
 Goldsmith, whose genius was equalled by none, was the butt of the 
 Club, although now and then he managed to get in a shrewd retort. 
 (See his Retaliation.) Goldsmith produced several masterpieces of 
 different kinds: a great novel, The Vicar of Wakefield; a great play, 
 She Stoops to Conquer ; and a great poem, The Deserted Village. He 
 wrote much else, and all of his works are interesting reading. Of 
 
 * See also pages xxi and 248-9. 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 the Club, Goldsmith and Gibbon had least to be vain of in personal 
 appearance, and both were rather sensitive on this point. 
 
 6. Thomas Percy (1729-1811). Dr. Percy was a clergyman and 
 antiquarian. His Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1764) was one 
 of the most influential books of the century and helped to produce 
 the romantic revival in poetry. Dr. Johnson by disposition was 
 unable to appreciate the views and tendencies of Bishop Percy and 
 his work. 
 
 7. David Garrick (1716-1779). Probably the greatest English 
 actor of any age, equally able in parts of comedy and tragedy. By 
 his performance of Shakespeare, Garrick helped to revive ■ the in- 
 fluence of that great writer. Johnson said of his death that it 
 "eclipsed the gayety of nations." 
 
 8. Sir William Jones (1746-1794). A famous lawyer and 
 student of Oriental literature. Jones had a remarkably wide knowl- 
 edge of the literatures of the East, and helped to make them known 
 to English readers. He also wrote some excellent verse; his best- 
 known lines are "What Constitutes a State?" 
 
 9. Edward Gibbon (1737-1794). Gibbon's greatest work was 
 The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. The style 
 of this is magnificent and eloquent, and is said to have been influenced 
 by Johnson. Gibbon, like Goldsmith, was rather unpleasing in 
 appearance. 
 
 10. Adam Smith (1723-1790). A Scotch writer, author of the 
 standard work, The Wealth of Nations, which established the science 
 of political economy. 
 
 11. Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816). Sheridan was 
 the son of Johnson's one-time friend Thomas Sheridan. He wrote 
 two of the finest comedies in the language: The Rivals and The 
 School for Scandal, both still performed. After a successful career as 
 a dramatist, he entered Parliament and attained great renown as 
 an orator. 
 
 12. Edmund Malone (1741-1812). A noted Shakespearian 
 scholar. Malone constantly aided Boswell with advice during the 
 writing of the Life of Johnson, and after Boswell's death he revised 
 the later editions. 
 
XXI 
 
 Retaliation: A Poem, by Oliver Goldsmith 
 
 Including Epitaphs on the Most Distinguished Wits of this Metropolis 
 
 [These verses were first published on April 18, 1774, just a fort- 
 night after the author's death, and several editions were required 
 in the same year. According to an account attributed to David 
 Garrick, the origin of the poem is as follows: At a meeting of a com- 
 pany of gentlemen, who were well known to each other, they diverted 
 themselves, among other things, with the peculiar oddities of Dr. 
 Goldsmith, who would never admit that anyone else was superior 
 to him in any art, from writing poetry down to dancing a hornpipe. 
 The Doctor on this occasion insisted with great eagerness on trying 
 his epigrammatic powers with Mr. Garrick. It was agreed that 
 each was to write the other's epitaph. Mr. Garrick immediately 
 said that his epitaph was finished, and he produced the following 
 distich : 
 
 Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness call'd Noll, 
 Who wrote like an angel, but talk'd like poor Poll. 
 
 Goldsmith, upon the company's laughing very heartily, grew very 
 thoughtful, and either would not, or could not, write anything at 
 that time. However, he went to work, and some weeks later he 
 produced the poem, Retaliation, which immediately made a decided 
 hit.] 
 
 Of old, when Scarron 1 his companions invited, 
 
 Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united; 
 
 If our landlord 2 supplies us with beef and with fish, 
 
 Let each guest bring himself — and he brings the best dish: , 
 
 Our Dean 3 shall be venison, just fresh from the plains; 
 
 Our Burke 4 shall be tongue, with a garnish of brains; 
 
 Our Will 5 shall be wild-fowl, of excellent flavor, 
 
 And Dick 8 with his pepper shall heighten the savor. 
 
 Our Cumberland's 7 sweetbread its place shall obtain; 
 
 And Douglas 8 is pudding, substantial and plain; 
 
 Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see 
 
 Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree: 
 
 To make out the dinner, full certain I am, 
 
 That Ridge 9 is anchovy, and Reynolds 10 is lamb; 
 
 That Hickey's 11 a capon; and, by the same rule, 
 
 Magnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool. 
 
 At a dinner so various — at such a repast, 
 
 Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last? 
 
 Here, waiter, more wine! let me sit while I'm able, 
 
 Till all my companions sink under the table; 
 
 Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head, 
 
 Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead. 
 
XX11 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, 
 
 We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much; 
 
 Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, 
 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind: 
 
 Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat 
 
 To persuade Tommy Townshend 12 to lend him a vote; 
 
 Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, 
 
 And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining: 1 ' 
 
 Though equal to ail things, for all things unfit; 
 
 Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit; 
 
 For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient; 
 
 And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. 
 
 In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd or in place, sir, 
 
 To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor. 
 
 Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, 
 
 An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man; 
 
 As an actor, confess't without rival to shine, 
 
 As a wit, if not first, in the very first line: 
 
 Yet with talents like these, and an excellent heart, 
 
 This man had his failings, a dupe to his art. 
 
 Like an ill-judging beauty, his colors he spread, 
 
 And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red. 
 
 On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; 
 
 'Twas only that when he was off he was acting. 
 
 With no reason on earth to go out of his way, 
 
 He turn'd and he varied full ten times a day: 
 
 Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick 
 
 If they were not his own by finessing and trick: 
 
 He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, 
 
 For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back. 
 
 Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, 
 
 And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame; 
 
 Till his relish, grown callous almost to disease, 
 
 Who pepper'd the most, was surest to please. 
 
 But let us be candid, and speak out our mind, 
 
 If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind. 
 
 Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, and Woodfalls 14 so grave, 
 
 What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave! 
 
 How did Grub Street re-echo the shouts that you raised, 
 
 While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were bepraised! 
 
 But peace to his spirit wherever it flies, 
 
 To act as an angel and mix with the skies: 
 
 Those poets who owe their best fame to his skill 
 
 Shall still be flatterers, go where he will, 
 
 Old Shakespeare receive him with praise and with love, 
 
 And Beaumonts and Bens 15 be his Kellys above. 
 
 Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, 
 He has not left a wiser or better behind; 
 His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand, 
 His manners vere gentle, complying, and bland: 
 
XX111 
 
 Still born to improve us in every part, 
 
 His pencil our faces, his manners our heart. 
 
 To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering, 
 
 When they judg'd without skill, he was still hard of hearing: 
 
 When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff, 
 
 He shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff. 
 
 Notes. — 1. Scarron. — An old French dramatist. 2. Our landlord. — 
 The master of the St. James's Coffee-house. 3. Our Dean. — Dr. Barnard, 
 Dean of Deny. 4. Our Burke. — Edmund Burke. 5. Our Will. — William 
 Burke, a kinsman of Edmund and a member of Parliament. 6. Dick. — 
 Richard Burke, a younger brother of Edmund. 7. Cumberland. — Richard 
 Cumberland, a dramatist. 8. Douglas. — Dr. John Douglas, afterwards 
 Bishop of Salisbury. 9. Ridge. — A member of the Irish bar. 10. Rey- 
 nolds. — Sir Joshua Reynolds. 11. Hickey. — An eminent attorney. 12. 
 Tommy Townshend. — A member of Parliament, afterwards Lord Sydney. 
 13. They thought of dining. — It is said that the beginning of a speech by 
 Burke was regarded as an opportunity by his fellow members of Parliament 
 for retiring to dinner. On the floor Burke's speeches were often ineffective, be- 
 cause too long and too thoughtful, but when they were published after oral 
 delivery in pamphlet form they proved very powerful. Burke was known by 
 the sobriquet of "the dinner-bell." 14. Kenricks, Kellys, and Woodfalls. — 
 Contemporary dramatists and journalists, of a very minor sort, who praised 
 Garrick extravagantly and compared him to Roscius, the great Roman actor, 
 and in turn were as extravagantly praised by him. 15. Beaumonts and Bens. 
 — Francis Beaumont and Ben Jonson were two of the great contemporaries of 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Goldsmith left his poem unfinished — his sketch of Reynolds, as 
 a matter of fact, stopped in the middle of a line. It is likely that if 
 he had lived, he would have added more — possibly a sketch of 
 Johnson, certainly a sketch of himself. 
 
XXIV INTRODUCTION 
 
 After Finishing Boswell: Suggested Reading 
 
 Have you enjoyed reading Boswell? Then go on to the rest of 
 his great biography; you will enjoy all of it. For anyone who be- 
 comes an enthusiast on the subject of Dr. Johnson, there is an im- 
 mense literature through which to travel — and more is being added 
 every year. 
 
 The following books will all contribute to the understanding of 
 Johnson and of his era. As you read the books, be prepared to 
 answer these questions: 
 
 1. State very briefly some of the actual facts gleaned from your 
 reading: make this a concise synopsis of what you have read. 
 
 2. If possible, give some interesting details of the life of the period 
 supplied by the book you read. 
 
 3. What light was thrown on Johnson or Boswell by your reading? 
 In what respects do you now understand Johnson or Boswell better? 
 
 4. Pick out all interesting references to the men whom you find 
 mentioned both in The Life of Johnson and in the supplementary 
 volume. 
 
 5. Write a frank personal opinion of the book read. Is it a valu- 
 able book? What are the characteristics of its style? 
 
 Suggestions for Supplementary Reading \ 
 I. Three Good Editions of Boswell Unabridged 
 
 The Everyman Library Edition, E. P. Dutton & Co., 2 volumes, 
 $0.70, $1.00 or $1.40. 
 
 The "Temple Classics" Edition, E. P. Dutton & Co., 6 volumes, 
 $2.70 or $3.90. 
 
 The George Bierbeck Hill Edition, Harper & Bros., 6 volumes, 
 $12.00. 
 
 II. Johnsoniana 
 
 Boswell, James: The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. 
 Bailey, J. C. : Dr. Johnson and His Circle. 
 Broadley, A. M. : Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale. 
 Carlyle, Thomas: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson." 
 Carlyle, Thomas: On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in 
 
 History (The Hero as Man of Letters: Johnson). 
 Craig, W. H. : Dr. Johnson and the Fair Sex: A Study of Contrasts, 
 Elwin, Whitwell: Some 18th Century Men of Letters, Vol. II. 
 Grant, Francis: Life of Johnson. 
 
 Hill, G. B.: Dr. Johnson, His Friends and His Critics. 
 Hill, G. B. : Johnsonian Miscellanies. 
 Howard, Alfred, Editor: The Beauties of Johnson. 
 Johnson, Samuel: The Essays of Johnson (S. J. Reid, Editor). 
 Johnson, Samuel: History of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia. 
 
SUGGESTED READING XXV 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Letters (collected and edited by G. B. Hill). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: The Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets 
 (G. B. Hill, Editor, or Arthur Waugh, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Select Essays (G B. Hill, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Selections (C. G. Osgood, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: The Six Chief Lives of Johnson's "Lives of the 
 Poets" (Matthew Arnold, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Wit and Wisdom (G. B. Hill, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Works (A. Chalmers, Editor). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel: Works (Literary Club Edition). 
 
 Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson" 
 
 Macaulay, T. B.: Life of Johnson. 
 
 Meynell, Alice and Chesterton, G. K.: Samuel Johnson (Selec- 
 tions) . 
 
 Mason, E. T., Editor: Samuel Johnson, His Words and His Ways. 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter A. : Samuel Johnson. 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter A. : Six Essays on Johnson. 
 
 Reade, A. L. : Johnsonian Gleanings. 
 
 Stephen, Sir Leslie: Samuel Johnson. 
 
 Tinker, C. B.: Dr. Johnson and Fanny Burney. 
 
 Thrale, H. L. : Anecdotes of the Late Samuel Johnson. 
 
 III. Boswelliana 
 
 Boswell, James: Letters to the Rev. W. J. Temple (Thos. Seccombe, 
 
 Editor). 
 Carlyle, Thomas: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson. 11 
 Elwin, Whitwell: Some 18th Century Men of Letters, Vol. II. 
 Fitzgerald, P. H. : Croker's Boswell and Boswell, 
 Fitzgerald, P. H.: Life of James Boswell. 
 Graham, H. G.: Scottish Men of Letters in the 18th Century. 
 Leask, W. K. : James Boswell. 
 
 Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson. 11 
 Stephen, Sir Leslie : Studies of a Biographer, Vol. I. 
 
 IV. Fiction in Which Johnson Is a Character 
 
 Bodkin, M. M.: In the Days of Goldsmith. 
 Colville, Harriet: Life's Anchor. 
 Moore, F. F. : A Nest of Linnets. 
 Moore, F. F. : The Jessamy Bride. 
 Moore, F. F.: Fanny's First Novel. 
 Thackeray, W. M.: The Virginians. 
 
 V. 18th Century Writers 
 
 Addison, Joseph and Steele, Sir Richard: The Spectator. 
 Alden, R. M., Editor: Readings in English Prose of the 18th Century. 
 Burke, Edmund: Speech on Conciliation with America. 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION 
 
 Burke, Edmund: A Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol. 
 
 Burney, Frances (Madame D'Arblay) : Evelina, or a Young Lady's 
 
 Entrance into the World. 
 Burney, Frances: Diary and Letters. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield: Best Letters (E. G. Johnson, Editor). 
 Cibber, Colley: An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber. 
 Dryden, John: MacFlecknoe. 
 Dryden, John: Absalom and Achitophel. 
 Dryden, John: All for Love, or The World Well Lost 
 Fielding, Henry: Amelia. 
 Goldsmith, Oliver: She Stoops to Conquer. 
 Goldsmith, Oliver: The Traveler. 
 Goldsmith, Oliver: The Deserted Village. 
 Goldsmith, Oliver: The Vicar of Wakefield. 
 Gray, Thomas: Poetical Works. 
 Macpherson, James : Poems of Ossian. 
 Percy, Thomas: Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. 
 Pope, Alexander: The Rape of the Lock. 
 Pope, Alexander: Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. 
 Pope, Alexander: Essay on Man. 
 Richardson, Samuel: Clarissa Harlowe. 
 Sheridan, R. B.: The Rivals. 
 Sheridan, R. B. : The School for Scandal. 
 Swift, Jonathan: Gulliver's Travels. 
 Swift, Jonathan: The Journal to Stella. 
 
 VI. Men and Manners of the 18th Century 
 
 Archer, Thomas: The Highway of Letters. 
 
 Baker, H. B.: English Actors. 
 
 Beers, H. A.: English Romanticism in the 18th Century.] 
 
 Birrell, Augustine : In the Name of the Bodleian. 
 
 Birrell, Augustine: Men, Women, and Books. 
 
 Birrell, Augustine: Obiter Dicta. 
 
 Boulton, W. B.: The Amusements of Old London. 
 
 Callow, Edward: Old London Taverns. 
 
 Cambridge History of English Literature, Volumes 7, 8, 9, 10. 
 
 Dennis, John: The Age of Pope. 
 
 Dobson, Austin: 18th Century Studies. 
 
 Dobson, Austin: 18th Century Vignettes. 
 
 Dobson, Austin: Oliver Goldsmith: A Memoir. 
 
 Garnett, Richard and Gosse, Edmund: English Literature: An 
 
 Illustrated Record, Volume III. 
 Gosse, Edmund: A History of 18th Century Literature. 
 Guiney, L. I. : A Little English Gallery. 
 Hale, Susan: Men and Manners of the 18th Century. 
 Hubbard, Elbert: Little Journeys to the Homes of Eminent Orators. 
 Hubbard, Elbert: Little Journeys to the Homes of Eminent Painters. 
 
SUGGESTED READING XXV11 
 
 Irving, Washington: Oliver Goldsmith: A Biography. 
 
 Lamb, Charles: Essays of Elia. 
 
 Macaulay, T. B. : History of England from the Accession of James II. 
 
 Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on Madame D'Arblay. 
 
 Millar, J. H.: The Mid-1 8th Century 
 
 Moore, F. F.: A Georgian Pageant. 
 
 Paston, George: Sidelights on the Georgian Period. 
 
 Perry, T. S. : English Literature in the 18th Century.. 
 
 Planche, J. R. : History of British Costume. 
 
 Pulling, F. S.: Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 Robins, Edward: Twelve Great Actors. 
 
 Sainte-Beuve, C. A.: Portraits of the 18th Century. 
 
 Seccombe, Thomas: The Age of Johnson. 
 
 Seeley, L. B.: Mrs. Thrale, Afterwards Mrs. Piozzi. 
 
 Stephen, Leslie: English Literature and Society in the 18th Century. 
 
 Sweetser, M. F.: Artist Biographies (Volume III: Reynolds). 
 
 Sidney, W. C: England and the English in the 18th Century. 
 
 Synge, M. B.: Short History of Social Life in England. 
 
 Taine, H. A. : History of English Literature. 
 
 Thackeray, W. M. : English Humorists of the 18th Century* 
 
 Thackeray, W. M.: The Four Georges. 
 
 Tinker, C. B.: The Salon and English Letters. 
 
 Traill, H. B.: Social England (Volume V). 
 
 Wharton, Grace and Philip : Wits and Beaux of Society, 
 
 Wheatley, H. B.: Hogarth's London. 
 
XXV111 INTRODUCTION 
 
 [Questions and Exercises on BoswelPs 
 " Life of Dr. Johnson " 
 
 Note. — Answers to all questions should be supported by citations of 
 definite passages in the text. Be sure to consult the Index. 
 
 1. What unexpected qualities of Johnson's do you discover in 
 Boswell's account of him? 
 
 2. How would you know that Boswell was a Scotchman, aside 
 from his own statements to that effect? 
 
 3. Was Boswell absolutely subservient to Johnson's opinions? 
 
 4. Does Boswell make any observations of his own that show 
 sense and judgment? 
 
 5. Mention some observations of Johnson's that seem to you to 
 throw an interesting light upon human nature and human foibles. 
 
 6. What efforts did Boswell make not only to secure facts for his 
 biography of Johnson, but also to make certain that what he said 
 was entirely accurate and truthful? 
 
 7. Point out a number of the most striking observations of John- 
 son's in which the effectiveness proceeds from some unexpected 
 comparison. 
 
 8. Point out other observations in which the effectiveness is due 
 simply to exaggeration — hyperbole. 
 
 9. Mention others in which the force is due simply to exactness 
 and vigor of utterance. 
 
 10. Name some other characteristics of Johnson's remarks, with 
 illustrations. 
 
 11. What opinions that Johnson held do you differ from strongly? 
 
 12. What evidence is there that many great men regarded Boswell 
 with friendship and respect? 
 
 13. Show in what ways Boswell had a thorough understanding of 
 Johnson, even so far as his weaknesses went. 
 
 14. Were there any occasions when Boswell was right and John- 
 son wrong in the opinions they expressed? 
 
 15. What qualities in Johnson attracted Boswell strongly? Was 
 it good or bad for Boswell to have so strong a veneration for 
 Johnson? 
 
 16. Was Boswell jealous of Johnson's other intimate friends? 
 Why? 
 
 17. What was the attitude of Johnson and his contemporaries 
 toward nature and the beauties of scenery? 
 
 18. What, on the other hand, was their attitude toward town 
 life? toward human beings and human nature? 
 
 19. Mention some peculiar habits and customs of the eighteenth 
 century which are shown in the pages of Boswell. 
 
 20. Was Carlyle right in thinking that Boswell's Life of Johnson 
 gave a truer and fuller picture of the eighteenth century than any 
 
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES XXIX 
 
 history could have done? Do you feel, after reading Boswell, that 
 Johnson's era was very different from the one in which you live? 
 
 21. What interesting allusions to America are there in Boswell? 
 
 22. What instances of rudeness do you find in Johnson's conduct? 
 of kindness? What opinion did he himself hold on bluntness in 
 conversation? 
 
 23. Which is the best of Johnson's letters? Why? 
 
 24. What, in your opinion, is the most humorous remark of 
 Johnson's? his wisest saying? 
 
 25. Why did Johnson talk so freely to Boswell? 
 
 Exercises 
 
 1. Draw a portrait, in your own words, of Dr. Johnson. 
 
 2. Describe one of Johnson's homes in London. 
 
 3. Describe Goldsmith or David Garrick — the man and his 
 character. 
 
 4. Who was Sir Joshua Reynolds? Topham Beauclerk? Bennet 
 Langton? Oliver Goldsmith? Edmund Burke? David Garrick? 
 Mr. Thrale? Mrs. Thrale? Paoli? General Oglethorpe? James 
 Macpherson? Edward Gibbon? Charles James Fox? George III? 
 Lord Chesterfield? 
 
 5. Mention some interesting details regarding Boswell that you 
 gather from the section upon him in the Introduction. 
 
 6. What contradictory opinions regarding Boswell are expressed 
 in the "Critical Opinions" cited in the Introduction? What is your 
 own opinion? 
 
 7. Report, in the manner of Boswell, an interesting conversation 
 to which you listened recently or in which you participated. After 
 you have finished, ask yourself: Was it as easy as it seemed to make 
 the report? Is any special credit due Boswell for the accuracy and 
 interest of his reports? 
 
 8. Name what to your mind were the most interesting incidents 
 in the life of* Johnson. Take one of these and write a paragraph re- 
 garding it, with the topic: "The most interesting incident in Bos- 
 well's Life of Johnson." 
 
 9. See how much additional information you can obtain regarding 
 each of the members of the Literary Club. 
 
 10. Work out a chronological table showing the chief events in 
 Johnson's life and his chief publications. 
 
 11. Bring in a report upon one of the following topics: The 
 Dress of Men in Johnson's Time; The Dress of Women; Means of 
 Conveyance; The Prisons of Johnson's Time; The Taverns of 
 Johnson's Time. 
 
 12. Bring in a report on one of the following topics: The Tory 
 Party in the Eighteenth Century ; The Whig Party in the Eighteenth 
 Century; The Movement to Abolish Slavery; England and America; 
 the Hanover Dynasty. 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION 
 
 13. Bring in a report on Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield or She 
 Stoops to Conquer. 
 
 14. Bring in a report on Johnson's Rasselas, his Idler papers, or 
 his Life of Pope. 
 
 15. Bring in a report on Thackeray's The Virginians or Moore's 
 The Jessamy Bride. 
 
 16. Deduce some characteristics of Johnson's style from the ex- 
 tracts in the Appendix. 
 
 17. Find in the Notes instances of antithesis in Johnson's sentences. 
 
 18. Point out some peculiarities of grammar in Boswell. 
 
ADDITIONAL EXERCISES XXXI 
 
 Additional Exercises Based on Macaulay's 
 " Life of Johnson " 
 
 For pupils who are reading Boswell and Macaulay concurrently. 
 
 1. Pick out the passages in Boswell that seem to have furnished 
 Macaulay with the material for the successive paragraphs of his 
 Life of Johnson. 
 
 2. Has Macaulay compressed or expanded his material? 
 
 3. In either case, does Macaulay exaggerate? omit essential de- 
 tails? over-emphasize one or another factor? Is Macaulay in any 
 sense unfair to Johnson? 
 
 4. Is the language of Macaulay superior to that of Boswell? 
 Justify your answer. 
 
 5. Are you more conscious of "the author behind the pen" in the 
 case of Boswell or in the case of Macaulay? 
 
 6. Does Macaulay or Boswell give you a truer sense of those 
 great spiritual qualities of Johnson which have won for him so many 
 admirers, in his own time or since? 
 
 7. From which biography do you gain a better portrait of the whole 
 man, physical, mental, and spiritual? 
 
 8. Macaulay himself was very fond of Boswell — at the moment 
 of his death he was indeed reading the Life of Johnson. Was he fair 
 to Boswell? (See the Critical Opinions.) 
 
 9. Do you personally prefer Macaulay or Boswell? Why? 
 
 10. Which is the better biography? What constitutes a good 
 biography? 
 
 11. Write a supplementary paragraph — as nearly as possible in 
 Macaulay's own style — based on facts in Boswell's Life that Macau- 
 lay did not use. 
 
 12. Read and report upon Macaulay's and upon Carlyle's essays 
 on Boswell's Life of Johnson. 
 
MAP OF LONDON. 
 
 London in 1780. — Covent Garden and Westward. 
 
 By employing a ruler to determine the boundaries of the lettered and numbered 
 sections, the following places may be located : — 
 
 Button's Coffee House, J, 8. 
 Cock Lane, R, 4. 
 Covent Garden, J, 9. 
 Drury Lane, L, 7. 
 Drury Lane Theatre, K, 7. 
 Fleet St., P, 6. 
 Grub St., IV, a. 
 Johnson's Homes : 
 
 Exeter St., K, 8. 
 
 Woodstock St., Hanover Sq., 2?, 8. 
 
 Castle St., H, 8. 
 
 Strand, H, J, 10. 
 
 Holbourn, N 9 4. 
 
 Fetter Lane, O, 5, 6. 
 
 Gray's Inn, M, 3. 
 
 Inner Temple Lane, N, 8 
 
 Johnson's Ct., Fleet St., P, 6. 
 
 Bolt Ct., Fleet St., P, 6. 
 Leicester House, F, 9. 
 Literary Club : 
 
 Gerrard St., F, 9. 
 
 St. James's St., C, 12. 
 Mitre Tavern, Fleet St., P, 6. 
 Newgate, S, 5. 
 Royal Exchange, X, Y, 6. 
 St. James's Sq., D t 12. 
 
 ' Life of Johnson." 
 
«* ! in I vo i r^ | co i o 
 
 1*1 
 
 OTJira^ISS^ 
 
 >;iiggp?-*g 
 
 mfgM 
 
JAMES BOS WELL 
 
 FROM THE PORTRAIT BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 
 
 COMPREHENDING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STUDIES 
 AND WORKS, IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER; A 
 SERIES OF HIS EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE, 
 CONVERSATIONS WITH MANY EMINENT PERSONS, 
 AND ORIGINAL PIECES OF HIS COMPOSITION: 
 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. 
 
After my death I wish no other herald, 
 No other speaker of my living actions, 
 To keep mine honor from corruption, 
 But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. 1 
 
 1 See Dr. Johnson's letter of September 30, 1773: "Boswell writes a regular 
 journal of our travels, which I think contains as much of what I say and do, 
 as of all other occurrences together, 'for such a faithful chronicler is Griffith. 1 " 
 
DEDICATION TO 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 Every liberal motive that can actuate an Author in the 
 dedication of his labors concurs in directing me to you, as 
 the person to whom the following Work should be inscribed. 
 
 If there be a pleasure in celebrating the distinguished merit 
 of a contemporary, mixed with a certain degree of vanity not 
 altogether inexcusable, in appearing fully sensible of it, where 
 can I find one, in complimenting whom I can with more 
 general approbation gratify those feelings? Your excellence 
 not only in the Art over which you have long presided with 
 unrivalled fame, but also in Philosophy and elegant Litera- 
 ture, is well known to the present, and will continue to be the 
 admiration of future ages. Your equal and placid temper, 
 your variety of conversation, your true politeness, by which 
 you are so amiable in private society, and that enlarged hospi- 
 tality which has long made your house a common centre of 
 union for the great, the accomplished, the learned, and the 
 ingenious; all these qualities I can, in perfect confidence of 
 not being accused of flattery, ascribe to you. 
 
 If a man may indulge an honest pride, in having it known 
 to the world, that he has been thought worthy of particular 
 attention by a person of the first eminence in the age in which 
 he lived, whose company has been universally courted, I am 
 justified in availing myself of the usual privilege of a Dedi- 
 cation, when I mention that there has been a long and un- 
 interrupted friendship between us. 
 
 If gratitude should be acknowledged for favors received, 
 I have this opportunity, my dear Sir, most sincerely to thank 
 you for the many happy hours which I owe to your kindness, 
 — for the cordiality with which you have at all times been 
 pleased to welcome me, — for the number of valuable ac- 
 quaintances to whom you have introduced me, — for the 
 
 3 
 
4 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 
 
 nodes coenaeque Deum, 1 which I have enjoyed under your 
 roof. 
 
 If a work should be inscribed to one who is master of the 
 subject of it, and whose approbation, therefore, must ensure 
 it credit and success, the life of Dr. Johnson is, with the 
 greatest propriety, dedicated to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was 
 the intimate and beloved friend of that great man; the friend, 
 whom he declared to be "the most invulnerable man he knew; 
 whom, if he should quarrel with him, he should find the most 
 difficulty how to abuse." You, my dear Sir, studied him, 
 and knew him well: you venerated and admired him. Yet, 
 luminous as he was upon the whole, you perceived all the 
 shades which mingled in the grand composition; all the little 
 peculiarities and slight blemishes which marked the literary 
 Colossus. Your very warm commendation of the specimen 
 which I gave in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, of my 
 being able to preserve his conversation in an authentic and 
 lively manner, which opinion the Public has confirmed, was 
 the best encouragement for me to persevere in my purpose of 
 producing the whole of my stores. 
 
 In one respect, this Work will, in some passages, be different 
 from the former. In my Tour, I was almost unboundedly 
 open in my communications, and from my eagerness to dis- 
 play the wonderful fertility and readiness of Johnson's wit, 
 freely showed to the world its dexterity, even when I was my- 
 self the object of it. I trusted that I should be liberally 
 understood, as knowing very well what I was about, and by 
 no means as simply unconscious of the pointed effects of the 
 satire. I own, indeed, that I was arrogant enough to suppose 
 that the tenor of the rest of the book would sufficiently guard 
 me against such a strange imputation. But it seems I judged 
 too well of the world; for, though I could scarcely believe 
 it, I have been undoubtedly informed, that many persons, 
 especially in distant quarters, not penetrating enough into 
 Johnson's character, so as to understand his mode of treating 
 his friends, have arraigned my judgment, instead of seeing 
 that I was sensible of all that they could observe. 
 1 Nights and feasts of the gods. 
 
DEDICATION 5 
 
 It is related of the great Dr. Clarke, that when in one of his 
 leisure hours he was unbending himself with a few friends in 
 the most playful and frolicsome manner, he observed Beau 
 Nash approaching; upon which he suddenly stopped; — 
 "My boys, (said he), let us be grave: here comes a fool." 
 The world, my friend, I have found to be a great fool, as to 
 that particular on which it has become necessary to speak 
 very plainly. I have, therefore, in this Work been more 
 reserved; and though I tell nothing but the truth, I have still 
 kept in my mind that the whole truth is not always to be 
 exposed. This, however, I have managed so as to occasion 
 no diminution of the pleasure which my book should afford; 
 though malignity may sometimes be disappointed of its 
 gratifications. 
 
 I am, 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 Your much obliged friend, 
 And faithful humble servant, 
 
 James Boswell. 
 London, 
 
 - April 20, 1791. 
 
In t/tis flees 
 
 and beside this pillar Jor many years 
 attended Dmne Sery/ce, 
 
 I Z5r(?/^7/^DOCTDR5ATlUELc)0HN50N 
 
 The Philosopher Thefber 
 
 The ardenC- Lexicographer 
 
 The firofotincL Mpra/iScancithie/ 'Writer 
 
 Dom /7qg Died^/78f 
 
 In remenTbreince and nt>n.oUr 
 of noS/e ^/acetifies no6/y embloyect 
 
 Inscription on the Pew in St. Clement Danes 
 
 I 
 
THE LIFE OF 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D. 
 
 CHAPTER I (1709-1737) 
 Birth, Education, and Early Years 
 
 Birth of Johnson — His Parents — Anecdotes of His Childhood - 
 — Touched by Queen Anne for the King's Evil — School Days — 
 Reading at Home — Matriculation at Oxford^ — His Melancholy — 
 Reading at College — ■ Resistance to College Discipline — Poverty 
 and Pride — Withdrawal from Oxford — Death of His Father — 
 Life at Birmingham — Marriage to r Mrs. Porter — Johnson's Acad- 
 emy at Edial. 
 
 Samuel Johnson was born at Lichfield, in Staffordshire, 
 on the 18th of September, 1709; and his initiation into the 
 Christian church was not delayed; for his baptism is re- 
 corded, in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city, to 
 have been performed on the day of his birth. His father is 
 there styled Gentleman, a circumstance of which an ignorant 
 panegyrist has praised him for not being proud; when the 
 truth is, that the appellation of Gentleman, though now lost 
 in the indiscriminate assumption of Esquire, was commonly 
 taken by those who could not boast of gentility. His father 
 was Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of obscure ex- 
 traction, who settled in Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer. 
 His mother was Sarah Ford, descended of an ancient race of 
 substantial yeomanry in Warwickshire. They were well ad- 
 vanced in years when they married, and never had more than 
 two children, both sons; Samuel, their firstborn, who lived 
 to be the illustrious character whose various excellence I am 
 to endeavor to record, and Nathaniel, who died in his twenty- 
 fifth year. 
 
 Of the power of his memory, for which he was all his life 
 eminent to a degree almost incredible, the following early 
 instance was told me in his presence at Lichfield, in 1776, by 
 
 7 
 
8 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1712-24 
 
 his step-daughter, Mrs. Lucy Porter, as related to her by his 
 mother. When he was a child in petticoats, and had learnt 
 to read, Mrs. Johnson one morning put the common prayer- 
 book into his hands, pointed to the collect for the day, and 
 said, "Sam, you must get this by heart." She went upstairs, 
 leaving him to study it: but by the time she had reached the 
 second floor, she heard him following her. "What's the 
 matter? " said she. "I can say it," he replied; and repeated 
 it distinctly, though he could not have read it more than twice. 
 Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted 
 with the scrofula, or king's-evil, which disfigured a counte- 
 nance naturally well formed, and hurt his visual nerves so 
 much, that he did not see at all with one of his eyes, though 
 iti-, appearance was little different from that of the other. 
 There is amongst his prayers, one inscribed When my eye was 
 restored to its use, which ascertains a defect that many of his 
 friends knew he had, though I never perceived it. I supposed 
 him to be only near-sighted; and indeed I must observe, that 
 in no other respect could I discern any defect in his vision; 
 on the contrary, the force of his attention and perceptive 
 quickness made him see and distinguish all manner of objects, 
 whether of nature or of art, with a nicety that is rarely to be 
 found. When he and I were traveling in the Highlands of 
 Scotland, and I pointed out to him a mountain which I 
 observed resembled a cone, he corrected my inaccuracy, by 
 showing me, that it was indeed pointed at the top, but that 
 one side of it was larger than the other. And the ladies with 
 whom he was acquainted agree, that no man was more nicely 
 and minutely critical in the elegance of female dress. When 
 I found that he saw the romantic beauties of Islam, in Derby- 
 shire, much better than I did, I told him that he resembled 
 an able performer upon a bad instrument. How false and 
 contemptible then are all the remarks which have been made 
 to the prejudice either of his candor or of his philosophy, 
 founded upon a supposition that he was almost blind. It has 
 been said, that he contracted this grievous malady from his 
 nurse. His mother, yielding to the superstitious notion, 
 which, it is wonderful to think, prevailed so long in this 
 
Age 3-15] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 9 
 
 country, as to the virtue of the regal touch; a notion, which 
 our kings encouraged, and to which a man of such enquiry 
 and such judgment as Carte could give credit; carried him to 
 London, where he was actually touched by Queen Anne. 
 Mrs. Johnson indeed, as Mr. Hector informed me, acted by the 
 advice of the celebrated Sir John Floyer, then a physician in 
 Lichfield. Johnson used to talk of this very frankly ; and Mrs. 
 Piozzi has preserved his very picturesque description of the 
 scene, as it remained upon his fancy. Being asked if he could 
 remember Queen Anne, — "He had (he said) a confused, but 
 somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, 
 and a long black hood." This touch, however, was without 
 any effect. 
 
 After having resided for some time at the house of his uncle, 
 Cornelius Ford, Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed 
 to the school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. 
 Wentworth was then master. 
 
 The two years which he spent at home, after his return from 
 Stourbridge, he passed in what he thought idleness, and was 
 scolded by his father for his want of steady application. He 
 had no settled plan of life, nor looked forward at all, but 
 merely lived from day to day. Yet he read a great deal in a 
 desultory manner, without any scheme of study, as chance 
 threw books in his way, and inclination directed him through 
 them. He used to mention one curious instance, of his casual 
 reading, when but a boy. Having imagined that his brother 
 had hid some apples behind a large folio upon an upper shelf 
 in his father's shop, he climbed up to search for them. There 
 were no apples; but the large folio proved to be Petrarch, 
 whom he had seen mentioned, in some preface, as one of the 
 restorers of learning. His curiosity having been thus excited, 
 he sat down with avidity, and read a great part of the book. 
 What he read during these two years, he told me, was not 
 works of mere amusement, "not voyages and travels, but all 
 literature, Sir, all ancient writers, all manly: though but 
 little Greek, only some of Anacreon and Hesiod : but in this 
 irregular manner (added he) I had looked into a great many 
 books which were not commonly known at the Universities, 
 
10 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1728 
 
 where they seldom read any books but what are put into their 
 hands by their tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. 
 Adams, now master of Pembroke College, told me, I was the 
 best qualified for the University that he had ever known come 
 there." 
 
 In estimating the progress of his mind during these two 
 years, as well as in future periods of his life, we must not re- 
 gard his own hasty confession of idleness; for we see, when he 
 explains himself, that he was acquiring various stores; and, 
 indeed he himself concluded the account with saying, "I 
 would not have you think I was doing nothing then." He 
 might, perhaps, have studied more assiduously; but it may 
 be doubted, whether such a mind as his was not more enriched 
 by roaming at large in the fields of literature, than if it had 
 been confined to any single spot. The analogy between body 
 and mind is very general, and the parallel will hold as to their 
 food, as well as any other particular. The flesh of animals 
 who feed excursively, is allowed to have a higher flavor than 
 that of those who are cooped up. May there not be the same 
 difference between men who read as their taste prompts, and 
 men who are confined in cells and colleges to stated tasks? 
 
 That a man in Mr. Michael Johnson's circumstances should 
 think of sending his son to the expensive University of 
 Oxford, at his own charge, seems very improbable. The 
 subject was too delicate to question Johnson upon; but I 
 have been assured by Dr. Taylor, that the scheme never 
 would have taken place, had not a gentleman of Shropshire, 
 one of his schoolfellows, spontaneously undertaken to support 
 him at Oxford, in the character of his companion: though, 
 in fact, he never received any assistance whatever from that 
 gentleman. 
 
 He, however, went to Oxford, and was entered a commoner 
 of Pembroke College, on the 31st of October, 1728, being then 
 in his nineteenth year. 
 
 The Reverend Dr. Adams, who afterwards presided over 
 Pembroke College with universal esteem, told me he was 
 present, and gave me some account of what passed on the 
 night of Johnson's arrival at Oxford. On that evening, his 
 
PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
Age 20] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 11 
 
 father, who had anxiously accompanied him, found means to 
 have him introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor. 
 His being put under any tutor, reminds us of what Wood says 
 of Robert Burton, author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, when 
 elected student of Christ Church: "for form's sake, though he 
 wanted not a tutor, he was put under the tuition of Dr. John 
 Bancroft, afterwards Bishop of Oxon." 
 
 His father seemed very full of the merits of his son, and told 
 the company he was a good scholar, and a poet, and wrote 
 Latin verses. His figure and manner appeared strange to 
 them; but he behaved modestly, and sat silent, till upon 
 something which occurred in the course of conversation, he 
 suddenly struck in and quoted Macrobius; and thus he gave 
 the first impression of that more extensive reading in which 
 he had indulged himself. 
 
 The "morbid melancholy," which was lurking in his con- 
 stitution, and to which we may ascribe those particularities, 
 and that aversion to regular life, which, at a very early period, 
 marked his character, gathered such strength in his twentieth 
 year, as to afflict him in a dreadful manner. While he was 
 at Lichfield, in the college vacation of the year 1729, he felt 
 himself overwhelmed with an horrible hypochondria, with 
 perpetual irritation, fretfulness, and impatience; and with a 
 dejection, gloom, and despair, which made existence misery. 
 From this dismal malady he never afterwards was perfectly 
 relieved; and all his labors, and all his enjoyments, were but 
 temporary interruptions of its baleful influence. How won- 
 derful, how unsearchable are the ways of God! Johnson, 
 who was blest with all the powers of genius and understand- 
 ing in a degree far above the ordinary state of human nature, 
 was at the same time visited with a disorder so afflictive, that 
 they who know it by dire experience, will not envy his exalted 
 endowments. That it was, in some degree, occasioned by a 
 defect in his nervous system, that inexplicable part of our 
 frame, appears highly probable. He told Mr. Paradise that 
 he was sometimes so languid and inefficient, that he could not 
 distinguish the hour upon the town-clock. 
 
 It is a common effect of low spirits or melancholy, to make 
 
12 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1729 
 
 those who are afflicted with it imagine that they are actually 
 suffering those evils which happen to be most strongly pre- 
 sented to their minds. Some have fancied themselves to be 
 deprived of the use of their limbs, some to labor under acute 
 diseases, others to be in extreme poverty; when, in truth, 
 there was not the least reality in any of the suppositions; so 
 that when the vapors were dispelled, they were convinced of 
 the delusion. To Johnson, whose supreme enjoyment was 
 the exercise of his reason, the disturbance or obscuration of 
 that faculty was the evil most to be dreaded. Insanity, 
 therefore, was the object of his most dismal apprehension; 
 and he fancied himself seized by it, or approaching to it, at 
 the very time he was giving proofs of a more than ordinary 
 soundness and vigor of judgment. That his own diseased 
 imagination should have so far deceived him, is strange; but 
 it is stranger still that some of his friends should have given 
 credit to his groundless opinion, when they had such un- 
 doubted proofs that it was totally fallacious; though it is by 
 no means surprising that those who wish to depreciate him, 
 should, since his death, have laid hold of this circumstance, 
 and insisted upon it with very unfair aggravation. 
 
 The particular course of his reading while at Oxford, and 
 during the time of vacation which he passed at home, cannot 
 be traced. Enough has been said of his irregular mode of 
 study. He told me, that from his earliest years he loved to 
 read poetry, but hardly ever read any poem to an end; that 
 he read Shakespeare at a period so early, that the speech of the 
 Ghost in Hamlet terrified him when he was alone; that Hor- 
 ace's Odes were the compositions in which he took most 
 delight, and it was long before he liked his Epistles and 
 Satires. He told me what he read solidly at Oxford was 
 Greek; not the Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, 
 and now and then a little Epigram; that the study of which 
 he was the most fond was Metaphysics, but he had not read 
 much, even in that way. I always thought that he did him- 
 self injustice in his account of what he had read, and that he 
 must have been speaking with reference to the vast portion 
 of study which is possible, and to which a few scholars in the 
 
Age 20] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 13 
 
 whole history of literature have attained; for when I once 
 asked him whether a person whose name I have now forgotten, 
 studied hard, he answered, "No, Sir. I do not believe he 
 studied hard. I never knew a man who studied hard. I con- 
 clude, indeed, from the effects, that some men have studied 
 hard, as Bentley and Clarke." Trying him by that criterion 
 upon which he formed his judgment of others, we may be ab- 
 solutely certain, both from his writings and his conversation, 
 that his reading was very extensive. Dr. Adam Smith, than 
 whom few were better judges on this subject, once observed 
 to me, that " Johnson knew more books than any man alive/ ' 
 He had a peculiar facility in seizing at once what was valuable 
 in any book, without submitting to the labor of perusing it 
 from beginning to end. He had, from the irritability of his 
 constitution, at all times, an impatience and hurry when he 
 either read or wrote. A certain apprehension, arising from 
 novelty, made him write his first exercise at College twice 
 over; but he never took that trouble with any other composi- 
 tion: and we shall see that his most excellent works were 
 struck off at a heat, with rapid exertion. 
 
 Dr. Adams told me that Johnson, while he was at Pembroke 
 College, "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay 
 and frolicsome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of 
 his life." But this is a stiking proof of the fallacy of appear- 
 ances, and how little any of us know of the real internal state 
 even of those whom we see most frequently; for the truth is, 
 that he was then depressed by poverty, and irritated by dis- 
 ease. When I mentioned to him this account as given me by 
 Dr. Adams, he said, "Ah, Sir, I was mad and violent. It was 
 bitterness which they mistook for frolic. I was miserably 
 poor, and I thought to fight my way by my literature and my 
 wit; so I disregarded all power and all authority." 
 
 The Bishop of Dromore observes in a letter to me, "The 
 pleasure he took in vexing the tutors and fellows has been 
 often mentioned. But I have heard him say, what ought to 
 be recorded to the honor of the present venerable master of 
 that College, the Reverend William Adams, D.D., who was 
 then very young, and one of the junior fellows; that the mild 
 
14 LIFE OF DE. JOHNSON [1729-31 
 
 but judicious expostulations of this worthy man, whose virtue 
 awed him, and whose learning he revered, made him really 
 ashamed of himself, l though I fear (said he) I was too proud 
 to own it.' 
 
 "I have heard from some of his contemporaries that he was 
 generally seen lounging at the College gate, with a circle of 
 young students round him, whom he was entertaining with 
 wit, and keeping from their studies, if not spiriting them up 
 to rebellion against the College discipline, which in his 
 maturer years he so much extolled." 
 
 He was not, however, blind to what he thought the defects 
 of his own college: and I have, from the information of Dr. 
 Taylor, a very strong instance of that rigid honesty which he 
 ever inflexibly preserved. Taylor had obtained his father's 
 consent to be entered of Pembroke, that he might be with his 
 schoolfellow Johnson, with whom, though some years older 
 than himself, he was very intimate. This would have been a 
 great comfort to Johnson. But he fairly told Taylor that he 
 could not, in conscience, suffer him to enter where he knew he 
 could not have an able tutor. He then made enquiry all 
 round the University, and having found that Mr. Bateman, 
 of Christ-Church, was the tutor of highest reputation, Taylor 
 was entered of that College. Mr. Bateman's lectures were so 
 excellent, that Johnson used to come and get them at second- 
 hand from Taylor, till his poverty being so extreme, that his 
 shoes were worn out, and his feet appeared through them, he 
 saw that this humiliating circumstance was perceived by the 
 Christ-Church men, and he came no more. He was too proud 
 to accept of money, and somebody having set a pair of new 
 shoes at his door, he threw them away with indignation. 
 How must we feel when we read such an anecdote of Samuel 
 Johnson ! 
 
 The res angusta domi 1 prevented him from having the ad- 
 vantage of a complete academical education. The friend to 
 whom he had trusted for support had deceived him. His 
 debts in College, though not great, were increasing; and his 
 scanty remittances from Lichfield, which had all along been 
 Straitened circumstances. From Juvenal, Satires, iii, 164. 
 
Age 23-24] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 15 
 
 made with great difficulty, could be supplied no longer, his 
 father having fallen into a state of insolvency. Compelled, 
 therefore, by irresistible necessity, he left the College in 
 autumn, 1731, without a degree, having been a member of it 
 a little more than three years. 
 
 And now (I had almost said poor) Samuel Johnson returned 
 to his native cit}^, destitute, and not knowing how he should 
 gain even a decent livelihood. His father's misfortunes in 
 trade rendered him unable to support his son; and for some 
 time there appeared no means by which he could maintain 
 himself. In the December of this year his father died. 
 
 The state of poverty in which he died, appears from a note 
 in one of Johnson's little diaries of the following year, which 
 strongly displays his spirit and virtuous dignity of mind. 
 "1732, July 15. — I laid by eleven guineas on this day, when 
 I received twenty pounds, being all that I have reason to hope 
 for out of my father's effects, previous to the death of my 
 mother; an event which I pray God may be very remote. I 
 now therefore see that I must make my own fortune. Mean- 
 while, let me take care that the powers of my mind be not 
 debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me 
 into any criminal act." 
 
 Being now again totally unoccupied, he was invited by Mr. 
 Hector to pass some time with him at Birmingham, as his 
 guest, at the house of Mr. Warren, with whom Mr. Hector 
 lodged and boarded. Mr. Warren was the first established 
 bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive to Johnson, 
 who he soon found could be of much service to him in his trade, 
 by his knowledge of literature; and he even obtained the 
 assistance of his pen in furnishing some numbers of a periodi- 
 cal Essay printed in the newspaper, of which Warren was the 
 proprietor. After very diligent enquiry, I have not been able 
 to recover those early specimens of that particular mode of 
 writing by which Johnson afterwards so greatly distinguished 
 himself. 
 
 , He continued to live as Mr. Hector's guest for about six 
 months, and then hired lodgings in another part of the town, 
 finding himself as well situated at Birmingham as he supposed 
 
16 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1733-36 
 
 he could be anywhere, while he had no settled plan of life, and 
 very scanty means of subsistence. He made some valuable 
 acquaintances there, amongst whom were Mr. Porter, a 
 mercer, whose widow he afterwards married, and Mr. Taylor, 
 who by his ingenuity in mechanical inventions, and his success 
 in trade, acquired an immense fortune. But the comfort of 
 being near Mr. Hector, his old school-fellow and intimate 
 friend, was Johnson's chief inducement to continue here. 
 Miss Porter told me, that when he was first introduced to 
 her mother, his appearance was very forbidding: he was then 
 lean and lank, so that his immense structure of bones was 
 hideously striking to the eye, and the scars of the scrofula 
 were deeply visible. He also wore his hair, which was 
 straight and stiff, and separated behind: and he often had, 
 seemingly, convulsive starts and odd gesticulations, which 
 tended to excite at once surprise and ridicule. Mrs. Porter 
 was so much engaged by his conversation that she overlooked 
 all these external disadvantages, and said to her daughter, 
 "This is the most sensible man that I ever saw in my life." 
 
 Though Mrs. Porter was double the age of Johnson, and her 
 person and manner, as described to me by the late Mr. Gar- 
 rick, were by no means pleasing to others, she must have had 
 a superiority of understanding and talents, as she certainly 
 inspired him with a more than ordinary passion; and she 
 having signified her willingness to accept of his hand, he went 
 to Lichfield to ask his mother's consent to the marriage; which 
 he could not but be conscious was a very imprudent scheme, 
 both on account of their disparity of years, and her want of 
 fortune. But Mrs. Johnson knew too well the ardor of her 
 son's temper, and was too tender a parent to oppose his in- 
 clinations. 
 
 I know not for what reason the marriage ceremony was not 
 performed at Birmingham; but a resolution was taken that 
 it should be at Derby, for which place the bride and bride- 
 groom set out on horseback, I suppose in very good humor. 
 But though Mr. Topham Beauclerk used archly to mention 
 Johnson's having told him with much gravity, "Sir, it was a 
 love marriage on both sides," I have had from my illustrious 
 
Age 27] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 17 
 
 friend the following curious account of their journey to church 
 upon the nuptial morn: — "Sir, she had read the old romances, 
 and had got into her head the fantastical notion that a woman 
 of spirit should use her lover like a dog. So, Sir, at first she 
 told me that I rode too fast, and she could not keep up with 
 me: and, when I rode a little slower, she passed me, and com- 
 plained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the slave 
 of caprice; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. I 
 therefore pushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. 
 The road lay between two hedges, so I was sure she could not 
 miss it; and I contrived that she should soon come up with 
 me. When she did, I observed her to be in tears. " 
 
 This, it must be allowed, was a singular beginning of con- 
 nubial felicity; but there is no doubt that Johnson, though 
 he thus showed a manly firmness, proved a most affectionate 
 and indulgent husband to the last moment of Mrs. Johnson's 
 life: and in his "Prayers and Meditations," we find very 
 remarkable evidence that his regard and fondness for her 
 never ceased, even after her death. 
 
 He now set up a private academy, for which purpose he 
 hired a large house, well situated near his native city. In the 
 Gentleman's Magazine for 1736, there is the following adver- 
 tisement: "At Edial, near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young 
 gentlemen are boarded and taught the Latin and Greek 
 Languages, by Samuel Johnson." But the only pupils that 
 were put under his care were the celebrated David Garrick 
 and his brother George, and a Mr. Offely, a young gentleman 
 of good fortune who died early. As yet, his name had noth- 
 ing of that celebrity which afterwards commanded the highest 
 attention and respect of mankind. Had such an advertise- 
 ment appeared after the publication of his London, or his 
 Rambler, or his Dictionary, how would it have burst upon the 
 world! with what eagerness would the great and the wealthy 
 have embraced an opportunity of putting their sons under 
 the learned tuition of Samuel Johnson. The truth, however, 
 is, that he was not so well qualified for being a teacher of 
 elements, and a conductor in learning by regular gradations, 
 as men of inferior powers of mind. His own acquisitions had 
 
18 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1736-37 
 
 been made by fits and starts, by violent irruptions into the 
 regions of knowledge; and it could not be expected that his 
 impatience would be subdued, and his impetuosity restrained, 
 so as to fit him for a quiet guide to novices. The art of com- 
 municating instruction, of whatever kind, is much to be 
 valued; and I have ever thought that those who devote them- 
 selves to this employment, and do their duty with diligence 
 and success, are entitled to very high respect from the com- 
 munity, as Johnson himself often maintained. Yet I am of 
 opinion, that the greatest abilities are not only not required 
 for this office, but render a man less fit for it. 
 
 Johnson was not more satisfied with his situation as the 
 master of an academy, than with that of the usher of a school; 
 we need not wonder, therefore, that he did not keep his 
 academy above a year and a half. From Mr. Garrick's 
 account he did not appear to have been profoundly reverenced 
 by his pupils. His oddities of manner, and uncouth gesticu- 
 lations, could not but be the subject of merriment to them; 
 and in particular, the young rogues used to listen at the door 
 and peep through the key-hole, that they might turn into 
 ridicule his tumultuous and awkward fondness for Mrs. 
 Johnson, whom he used to name by the familiar appellation 
 of Tetty or Tetsy, which, like Betty or Betsy, is provincially 
 used as a contraction for Elizabeth, her Christian name, but 
 which to us seems ludicrous, when applied to a woman of her 
 age and appearance. Mr. Garrick described her to me as 
 very fat, with a bosom of more than ordinary protuberance, 
 with swelled cheeks, of a florid red, produced by thick paint- 
 ing, and increased by the liberal use of cordials; flaring and 
 fantastic in her dress, and affected both in her speech and her 
 general behavior. I have seen Garrick exhibit her, by his 
 exquisite talent of mimicry, so as to excite the heartiest bursts 
 of laughter; but he, probably, as is the case in all such repre- 
 sentations, considerably aggravated the picture. 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER II (1737-1748) 
 Early Career of Johnson in London 
 
 Journey to London with Garrick — Kindness of Hervey * — The 
 Gentleman's Magazine • — Writing of the Debates of Parliament — 
 Publication of London — Kindly Interest of Pope — His Letter to 
 Richardson — Physical Eccentricities of Johnsonf — A Possible Ex- 
 planation — Johnson's Filial Kindness — The Biography of Richard 
 Savage — The Prologue for Garrick's Theatre — - The Prospectus 
 for the Dictionary Addressed to Lord Chesterfield — Johnson's 
 Methods of Work — His Helpers. 
 
 Johnson now thought of trying his fortune in London, the 
 great field of genius and exertion, where talents of every kind 
 have the fullest scope, and the highest encouragement. It 
 is a memorable circumstance that his pupil David Garrick 
 went thither at the same time, with intent to complete his 
 education, and follow the profession of the law, from which 
 he was soon diverted by his decided preference for the stage. 
 
 How he employed himself upon his first coming to London 
 is not particularly known. He had a little money when he 
 came to town, and he knew how he could live in the cheapest 
 manner. His first lodgings were at the house of Mr. Norris, 
 a staymaker, in Exeter-street, adjoining Catharine-street, in 
 the Strand. "I dined (said he) very well for eight-pence, 
 with very good company, at the Pine-Apple in New-street, 
 just by. Several of them had traveled. They expected to 
 meet every day; but did not know one another's names. 
 It used to cost the rest a shilling, for they drank wine; but I 
 had a cut of meat for six-pence, and bread for a penny, and 
 gave the waiter a penny; so that I was quite well served, 
 nay, better than the rest, for they gave the waiter nothing/ ' 
 
 Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circum- 
 stance to cheer him; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry 
 Hervey, one of the branches of the noble family of that 
 
 19 
 
20 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1738 
 
 name, who had been quartered at Lichfield as an officer of 
 the army, and had at this time a house in London, where 
 Johnson was frequently entertained, and had an opportunity 
 of meeting genteel company. Not very long before his death, 
 he mentioned this, among other particulars of his life, which 
 he was kindly communicating to me; and he described this 
 early friend " Harry Hervey," thus: "He was a vicious man, 
 but very kind to me. If you call a dog Hervey, I shall love 
 him." 
 
 The Gentleman' 's Magazine, begun and carried on by Mr. 
 Edward Cave, under the name of Sylvanus Urban, had 
 attracted the notice and esteem of Johnson, in an eminent 
 degree, before he came to London as an adventurer in litera- 
 ture. He told me, that when he first saw St. John's Gate, 
 the place where that deservedly popular miscellany was 
 originally printed, he " beheld it with reverence." I suppose, 
 indeed, that every young author has had the same kind of 
 feeling for the magazine or periodical publication which has 
 first entertained him, and in which he has first had an op- 
 portunity to see himself in print, without the risk of exposing 
 his name. I myself recollect such impressions from The 
 Scots Magazine, which was begun at Edinburgh in the year 
 1739, and has been ever conducted with judgment, accuracy, 
 and propriety. I yet cannot help thinking of it with an 
 affectionate regard. Johrlson has dignified the Gentleman 's 
 Magazine, by the importance with which he invests the life 
 of Cave; but he has given it still greater lustre by the various 
 admirable Essays which he wrote for it. 
 
 It appears that he was now enlisted by Mr. Cave as a 
 regular coadjutor in his magazine, by which he probably 
 obtained a tolerable livelihood. At what time, or by what 
 means, he had acquired a competent knowledge both of 
 French and Italian, I do not know; but he was so well skilled 
 in them, as to be sufficiently qualified for a translator. That 
 part of his labor which consisted in emendation and improve- 
 ment of the productions of other contributors, like that em- 
 ployed in leveling ground, can be perceived only by those 
 who had an opportunity of comparing the original with the 
 
Age 29] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 21 
 
 altered copy. What we certainly know to have been done 
 by him in this way, was the Debates in both houses of Parlia- 
 ment, under the name of The Senate of Lilliput, sometimes 
 with feigned denominations of the several speakers, some- 
 times with denominations formed of the letters of their real 
 names, in the manner of what is called anagram, so that they 
 might easily be deciphered. Parliament then kept the press 
 in a kind of mysterious awe, which made it necessary to have 
 recourse to such devices. In our time it has acquired an 
 unrestrained freedom, so that the people in all parts of the 
 kingdom have a fair, open, and exact report of the actual 
 proceedings of their representatives and legislators, which 
 in our constitution is highly to be valued; though, unques- 
 tionably, there has of late been too much reason to complain 
 of the petulance with which obscure scribblers have pre- 
 sumed to treat men of the most respectable character and 
 situation. 
 
 The debates in Parliament, which were brought home and 
 digested by Guthrie, whose memory, though surpassed by 
 others who have since followed him in the same department, 
 was yet very quick and tenacious, were sent by Cave to 
 Johnson for his revision; and, after some time, when Guthrie 
 had attained to greater variety of employment, and the 
 speeches were more and more enriched by the accession of 
 Johnson's genius, it was resolved that he should do the whole 
 himself, from the scanty notes furnished by persons employed 
 to attend in both houses of Parliament. Sometimes, how- 
 ever, as he himself told me, he had nothing more communi- 
 cated to him than the names of the several speakers, and the 
 part which they had taken in the debate. 
 
 But what first displayed his transcendent powers, and 
 "gave the world assurance of the man/' was his London, a 
 Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal; which 
 came out in May this year, and burst forth with a splendor, 
 the rays of which will for ever encircle his name. 
 
 To us who have long known the manly force, bold spirit, 
 and masterly versification of this poem, it is a matter of 
 curiosity to observe the diffidence with which its author 
 
22 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1738 
 
 brought it forward into public notice, while he is so cautious 
 as not to avow it to be his own production; and with what 
 humility he offers to allow the printer to " alter any stroke 
 of satire which he might dislike. " That any such alteration 
 was made, we do not know. If we did, we could not but 
 feel an indignant regret; but how painful is it to see that a 
 writer of such vigorous powers of mind was actually in such 
 distress, that the small profit which so short a poem, however 
 excellent, could yield, was courted as a " relief." 
 
 Johnson's London was published in May, 1738; and it is 
 remarkable, that it came out on the same morning with 
 Pope's satire, entitled 1738; so that England had at once its 
 Juvenal and Horace as poetical monitors. The Reverend 
 Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, to whom I am in- 
 debted for some obliging communications, was then a student 
 at Oxford, and remembers well the effect which London pro- 
 duced. Everybody was delighted with it; and there being 
 no name to it, the first buzz of the literary circle was, "here is 
 an unknown poet, greater even than Pope." And it is re- 
 corded in the Gentleman's Magazine of that year, that it 
 "got to the second edition in the course of a week." 
 
 Pope, who then filled the poetical throne without a rival, 
 it may reasonably be presumed, must have been particularly 
 struck by the sudden appearance of such a poet; and, to his 
 credit, let it be remembered, that his feelings and conduct on 
 the occasion were candid and liberal, tie requested Mr. 
 Richardson, son of the painter, to endeavor to find out who 
 this new author was. Mr. Richardson, after some inquiry, 
 having informed him that he had discovered only that his 
 name was Johnson, and that he was some obscure man, 
 Pope said, "He will soon be deterre. 1 " We shall presently 
 see, from a note written by Pope, that he was himself after- 
 wards more successful in his inquiries than his friend. 
 
 As Mr. Pope's note concerning Johnson, alluded to in a 
 
 former page, refers both to his London, and his Marmor 
 
 Norfolciense, I have deferred inserting it till now. I am 
 
 indebted for it to Dr. Percy, the Bishop of Dromor, who per- 
 
 1 Unearthed. 
 
Age 30] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 23 
 
 mitted me to copy it from the original in his possession. It 
 was presented to his Lordship by Sir Joshua Reynolds, to 
 whom it was given by the son of Mr. Richardson the painter, 
 the person to whom it is addressed. I have transcribed it 
 with minute exactness, that the peculiar mode of writing, 
 and imperfect spelling of that celebrated poet, may be ex- 
 hibited to the curious in literature. It justifies Swift's epi- 
 thet of " paper-sparing Pope," for it is written on a slip no 
 larger than a common message-card, and was sent to Mr. 
 Richardson, along with the imitation of Juvenal. 
 
 "This is imitated by one Johnson who put in for a Public- 
 school in Shropshire, but was disappointed. He has an in- 
 firmity of the convulsive kind, that attacks him sometimes, 
 so as to make Him a sad Spectacle. Mr P. from the Merit 
 of This Work which was all the knowledge he had of Him 
 endeavor'd to serve Him without his own application; & 
 wrote to my L d . gore, but he did not succeed. Mr. Johnson 
 published afterw ds . another Poem in Latin with Notes the 
 whole very Humerous calPd the Norfolk Prophecy. 
 
 Johnson had been told of this note: and Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds informed him of the compliment which it contained, 
 but, from delicacy, avoided showing him the paper itself. 
 When Sir Joshua observed to Johnson that he seemed very 
 desirous to see Pope's note, he answered, "Who would not 
 be proud to have such a man as Pope so solicitous in enquir- 
 ing about him?" 
 
 The infirmity to which Mr. Pope alludes, appeared to me 
 also, as I have elsewhere observed, to be of the convulsive 
 kind, and of the nature of that distemper called St. Vitus's 
 dance; and in this opinion I am confirmed by the description 
 which Sydenham gives of that disease. "This disorder is a 
 kind of convulsion. It manifests itself by halting or un- 
 steadiness of one of the legs, which the patient draws after 
 him like an idiot. If the hand of the same side be applied 
 to the breast, or any other part of the body, he cannot keep 
 it a moment in the same posture, but it will be drawn into a 
 different one by a convulsion, notwithstanding all his efforts 
 
24 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1739-43 
 
 to the contrary/ ' Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, was of a 
 different opinion, and favored me with the following paper: 
 
 " Those motions or tricks of Dr. Johnson are improperly 
 called convulsions. He could sit motionless, when he was 
 told so to do, as well as any other man. My opinion is, that 
 it proceeded from a habit which he had indulged himself in, 
 of accompanying his thoughts with certain untoward actions, 
 and those actions always appeared to me as if they were 
 meant to reprobate some part of his past conduct. When- 
 ever he was not engaged in conversation, such thoughts 
 were sure to rush into his mind; and, for this reason, any 
 company, any employment whatever, he preferred to being 
 alone. The great business of his life (he said) was to escape 
 from himself; this disposition he considered as the disease of 
 his mind, which nothing cured but company. 
 
 "One instance of his absence of mind and particularity, as 
 it is characteristic of the man, may be worth relating. When 
 he and I took a journey together into the West, we visited 
 the late Mr. Banks, of Dorsetshire; the conversation turn- 
 ing upon pictures, which Johnson could not well see, he re- 
 tired to a corner of the room, stretching out his right leg as 
 far as he could reach before him, then bringing up his left 
 leg, and stretching his right still further on. The old gentle- 
 man observing him, went up to him, and in a very courteous 
 manner assured him, though it was not a new house, the 
 flooring was perfectly safe. The Doctor started out of his 
 reverie like a person waked out of his sleep, but spoke not a 
 word." 
 
 His circumstances were at this time embarrassed; yet his 
 affection for his mother was so warm, and so liberal, that he 
 took upon himself a debt of hers, which, though small in 
 itself, was then considerable to him. This appears from the 
 following letter which he wrote to Mr. Levett, of Lichfield, 
 the original of which lies now before me. 
 
 " To Mr. Levett, in Lichfield. 
 
 11 Sir, December 1, 1743. 
 
 "I am extremely sorry that we have encroached so much 
 upon your forbearance with respect to the interest, which a 
 
 
Age 34-35] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 25 
 
 great perplexity of affairs hindered me from thinking of with 
 that attention that I ought, and which I am not immediately 
 able to remit to you, but will pay it (I think twelve pounds,) 
 in two months. I look upon this, and on the future interest 
 of that mortgage, as my own debt; and beg that you will be 
 pleased to give me directions how to pay it, and not mention 
 it to my dear mother. If it be necessary to pay this in less 
 time, I believe I can do it; but I take two months for cer- 
 tainty, and beg an answer whether you can allow me so much 
 time. I think myself very much obliged to your forbearance, 
 and shall esteem it a great happiness to be able to serve you. 
 I have great opportunities of dispersing anything that you 
 may think it proper to make public. I will give a note for 
 the money, payable at the time mentioned, to any one here 
 that you shall appoint. I am, Sir, 
 
 "Your most obedient 
 
 "And most humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 It does not appear that he wrote anything in 1744 for the 
 Gentleman's Magazine, but the Preface. His life of Barretier 
 was now re-published in a pamphlet by itself. But he pro- 
 duced one 'work this year, fully sufficient to maintain the 
 high reputation which he had acquired. This was The Life 
 of Richard Savage; a man of whom it is difficult to speak im- 
 partially, without wondering that he was for some time the 
 intimate companion of Johnson ; for his character was marked 
 by profligacy, insolence, and ingratitude: yet, as he un- 
 doubtedly had a warm and vigorous, though unregulated 
 mind, had seen life in all its varieties, and been much in the 
 company of the statesmen and wits of his time, he could 
 communicate to Johnson an abundant supply of such mate- 
 rials as his philosophical curiosity most eagerly desired; and 
 as Savage's misfortunes and misconduct had reduced him to 
 the lowest state of wretchedness as a writer for bread, his 
 visits to St. John's Gate naturally brought Johnson and him 
 together. 
 
 It is melancholy to reflect, that Johnson and Savage were 
 
26 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1744 
 
 sometimes in such extreme indigence, that they could not 
 pay for a lodging; so that they have wandered together 
 whole nights in the streets. Yet in these almost incredible 
 scenes of distress, we may suppose that Savage mentioned 
 many of the anecdotes with which Johnson afterwards en- 
 riched the life of his unhappy companion, and those of other 
 poets. 
 
 I am afraid, however, that by associating with Savage, who 
 was habituated to the dissipation and licentiousness of the 
 town, Johnson, though his good principles remained steady, 
 did not entirely preserve that conduct for which, in days of 
 greater simplicity, he was remarked by his friend Mr. Hector; 
 but was imperceptibly led into some indulgences which occa- 
 sioned much distress to his virtuous mind. 
 
 In February, 1744, [the Life] came forth from the shop 
 of Roberts, between whom and Johnson I have not traced 
 any connection, except the casual one of this publication. 
 In Johnson's Life of Savage, although it must be allowed that 
 its moral is the reverse of — Respiccre exemplar vitae morum- 
 que jubebo, } a very useful lesson is inculcated, to guard men of 
 warm passions from a too free indulgence of them; and the 
 various incidents are related in so clear and animated a man- 
 ner, and illuminated throughout with so much philosophy, 
 that it is one of the most interesting narratives in the English 
 language. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that upon his return 
 from Italy he met with it in Devonshire, knowing nothing of 
 its author, and began to read it while he was standing with 
 his arm leaning against a chimney-piece. It seized his atten- 
 tion so strongly, that, not being able to lay down the book 
 till he had finished it, when he attempted to move, he found 
 his arm totally benumbed. The rapidity with which this 
 work was composed is a wonderful circumstance. Johnson 
 has been heard to say, "I wrote forty-eight of the printed 
 octavo pages of the Life of Savage at a sitting; but then I 
 sat up all night." 
 
 It is remarkable, that in this biographical disquisition there 
 
 1 I recommend that you regard this exemplary life, these exem- 
 plary habits. 
 
Age 35] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 27 
 
 appears a very strong symptom of Johnson's prejudice against 
 players; a prejudice that may be attributed to the following 
 causes: first, the imperfections of his organs, which were so 
 defective that he was not susceptible of the fine impressions 
 which theatrical excellence produces upon the generality of 
 mankind; secondly, the cold rejection of his tragedy; and, 
 lastly, the brilliant success of Garrick, who had been his 
 pupil, who had come to London at the same time with him, 
 not in a much more prosperous state than himself, and whose 
 talents he undoubtedly rated low, compared with his own. 
 His being outstripped by his pupil in the race of immediate 
 fame, as well as of fortune, probably made him feel some 
 indignation, as thinking that whatever might be Garrick's 
 merits in his art, the reward was too great when compared 
 with what the most successful efforts of literary labor could 
 attain. 
 
 In 1746 it is probable that he was still employed upon his 
 Shakespeare, which perhaps he laid aside for a time, upon 
 account of the high expectations which were formed of War- 
 burton's edition of that great poet. It is somewhat curious, 
 that his literary career appears to have been almost totally 
 suspended in the years 1745 and 1746, those years which were 
 marked by a civil war in Great Britain, when a rash attempt 
 was made to restore the House of Stuart to the throne. That 
 he had a tenderness for that unfortunate House is well known; 
 and some may fancifully imagine, that a sympathetic an- 
 xiety impeded the exertion of his intellectual powers: but I 
 am inclined to think, that he was, during this time, sketching 
 the outlines of his great philological work. 
 
 This year his old pupil and friend, David Garrick, having 
 become joint patentee and manager of Drury-lane theatre, 
 Johnson honored his opening of it with a Prologue, which 
 for just and manly dramatic criticism on the whole range of 
 the English stage, as well as for the poetical excellence, is 
 unrivalled. Like the celebrated Epilogue to the Distressed 
 Mother, it was, during the season, often called for by the 
 audience. The most striking and brilliant passages of it 
 have been so often repeated, and are so well recollected by 
 
28 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747 
 
 all the lovers of the drama, and of poetry, that it would be 
 superfluous to point them out. In the Gentleman } s Magazine 
 for December this year, he inserted an Ode on Winter, which 
 is, I think, an admirable specimen of his genius for lyric 
 poetry. 
 
 But the year 1747 is distinguished as the epoch, when 
 Johnson's arduous and important work, his Dictionary of the 
 English Language, was announced to the world, by the pub- 
 lication of its Plan or Prospectus. 
 
 How long this immense undertaking had been the object 
 of his contemplation, I do not know. I once asked him by 
 what means he had attained to that astonishing knowledge 
 of our language, by which he was enabled to realize a design 
 of such extent and accumulated difficulty. He told me, 
 that "it was not the effect of particular study; but that it 
 had grown up in his mind insensibly." I have been in- 
 formed by Mr. James Dodsley, that several years before this 
 period, when Johnson was one day sitting in his brother 
 Robert's shop, he heard his brother suggest to him, that a 
 Dictionary of the English Language would be a work that 
 would be well received by the public; that Johnson seemed 
 at first to catch at the proposition, but, after a pause, said, 
 in his abrupt decisive manner, "I believe I shall not under- 
 take it." That he, however, had bestowed much thought 
 upon the subject, before he published his Plan, is evident 
 from the enlarged, clear, and accurate views which it exhibits; 
 and we find him mentioning in that tract, that many of the 
 writers whose testimonies were to be produced as authorities, 
 were selected by Pope; which proves that he had been fur- 
 nished, probably by Mr. Robert Dodsley, with whatever 
 hints that eminent poet had contributed towards a great 
 literary project, that had been the subject of important 
 consideration in a former reign. 
 
 The booksellers who contracted with Johnson, single and 
 unaided, for the execution of a work, which in other coun- 
 tries has not been effected but by the co-operating exertions 
 of many, were Mr. Robert Dodsley, Mr. Charles Hitch, Mr. 
 Andrew Millar, the two Messieurs Longman, and the two 
 
Age 38] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 29 
 
 Messieurs Knapton. The price stipulated was fifteen hun- 
 dred and twenty-five pounds. 
 
 The Plan was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of Chester- 
 field, then one of His Majesty's Principal Secretaries of 
 State; a nobleman who was very ambitious of literary dis- 
 tinction, and who, upon being informed of the design, had 
 expressed himself in terms very favorable to its success. 
 There is, perhaps, in everything of any consequence, a secret 
 history which it would be amusing to know, could we have 
 it authentically communicated. Johnson told me, "Sir, the 
 way in w T hich the Plan of my Dictionary came to be inscribed 
 to Lord Chesterfield, was this : I had neglected to write it by 
 the time appointed. Dodsley suggested a desire to have it 
 addressed to Lord Chesterfield. I laid hold of this as a pre- 
 text for delay, that it might be better done, and let Dodsley 
 have his desire. I said to my friend, Dr. Bathurst, 'Now if 
 any good comes of my addressing to Lord Chesterfield, it 
 will be ascribed to deep policy/ when, in fact, it was only a 
 casual excuse for laziness." 
 
 It is worthy of observation, that the Plan has not only the 
 substantial merit of comprehension, perspicuity, and pre- 
 cision, but that the language of it is unexceptionably excellent; 
 it being altogether free from that inflation of style, and those 
 uncommon but apt and energetic words, which in some of 
 his writings have been censured, with more petulance than 
 justice; and never was there a more dignified strain of 
 compliment than that in which he courts the attention of 
 one, who, he had been persuaded to believe, would be a re- 
 spectable patron. 
 
 "With regard to questions of purity or propriety, (says he) 
 I was once in doubt whether I should not attribute to myself 
 too much in attempting to decide them, and whether my 
 province was to extend beyond the proposition of the ques- 
 tion, and the display of the suffrages on each side; but I have 
 been since determined by your Lordship's opinion, to inter- 
 pose my own judgment, and shall therefore endeavor to sup- 
 port what appears to me most consonant to grammar and 
 reason. Ausonius thought that modesty forbade him to 
 
30 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747 
 
 plead inability for a task which Caesar had judged him 
 equal : 
 
 Cur me posse negem, posse quod ille putatf 1 
 
 And I may hope, my Lord, that since you, whose authority 
 in our language is so generally acknowledged, have commis- 
 sioned me to declare my own opinion, I shall be considered as 
 exercising a kind of vicarious jurisdiction; and that the power 
 which might have been denied to my own claim, will be 
 readily allowed me as the delegate of your Lordship." 
 
 This passage proves, that Johnson's addressing his Plan to 
 Lord Chesterfield was not merely in consequence of the re- 
 sult of a report by means of Dodsley, that the Earl favored 
 the design; but that there had been a particular communi- 
 cation with his Lordship concerning it. Dr. Taylor told me, 
 that Johnson sent his Plan to him in manuscript, for his 
 perusal; and that when it was lying upon his table, Mr. 
 William Whitehead happened to pay him a visit, and being 
 shown it, was highly pleased with such parts of it as he had 
 time to read, and begged to take it home with him, which he 
 was allowed to do; that from him it got into the hands of a 
 noble Lord, who carried it to Lord Chesterfield. When 
 Taylor observed this might be an advantage, Johnson re- 
 plied, "No, Sir, it would have come out with more bloom, if 
 it had not been seen before by anybody." 
 
 Dr. Adams found him one day busy at his Dictionary, when 
 the following dialogue ensued. — "Adams. This is a great 
 work, Sir. How are you to get all the etymologies? John- 
 son. Why, Sir, here is a shelf with Junius, and Skinner, and 
 others; and there is a Welsh gentleman who has published 
 a collection of Welsh proverbs, who will help me with the 
 Welsh. Adams. But, Sir, how can you do this in three 
 years? Johnson. Sir, I have no doubt that I can do it in 
 three years. Adams. But the French Academy, which con- 
 sists of forty members, took forty years to compile their 
 Dictionary. Johnson. Sir, thus it is. This is the propor- 
 tion. Let me see; forty times forty is sixteen hundred. As 
 
 1 Why should I deny I can do what he thinks I can do? 
 
Age 38-39] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 31 
 
 three to sixteen hundred, so is the proportion of an English- 
 man to a Frenchman." With so much ease and pleasantry 
 could he talk of that prodigious labor which he had under- 
 taken to execute. 
 
 The public has had, from another pen, a long detail of 
 what had been done in this country by prior Lexicographers; 
 and no doubt Johnson was wise to avail himself of them, so 
 far as they went; but the learned yet judicious research of 
 etymology, the various, yet accurate display of definition, 
 and the rich collection of authorities, were reserved for the 
 superior mind of our great philologist. For the mechanical 
 part he employed, as he told me, six amanuenses; and let it 
 be remembered by the natives of North-Britain, to whom he 
 is supposed to have been so hostile, that five of them were of 
 that country. 
 
 While the Dictionary was going forward, Johnson lived 
 part of the time in Holborn, part in Gough-square, Fleet- 
 street; and he had an upper room fitted up like a counting- 
 house for the purpose, in which he gave to the copyists their 
 several tasks. The words, partly taken from other diction- 
 aries, and partly supplied by himself, having been first written 
 down with spaces left between them, he delivered in writ- 
 ing their etymologies, definitions, and various significations. 
 The authorities were copied from the books themselves, in 
 which he had marked the passages with a black lead pencil, 
 the traces of which could easily be effaced. I have seen 
 several of them, in which that trouble had not been taken; 
 so that they were just as when used by the copyists. It is 
 remarkable, that he was so attentive in the choice of the 
 passages in which words were authorised, that one may read 
 page after page of his Dictionary with improvement and 
 pleasure; and it should not pass unobserved, that he has 
 quoted no author whose writings had a tendency to hurt sound 
 religion and morality. 
 
 The necessary expense of preparing a work of such magni- 
 tude for the press must have been a considerable deduction 
 from the price stipulated to be paid for the copyright. I under- 
 stand that nothing was allowed by the booksellers on that 
 
32 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747-48 
 
 account; and I remember his telling me, that a large portion 
 of it having, by mistake, been written on both sides of the 
 paper, so as to be inconvenient for the compositor, it cost 
 him twenty pounds to have it transcribed upon one side only. 
 He is now to be considered as " tugging at his oar," as en- 
 gaged in a steady continued course of occupation, sufficient 
 to employ all his time for some years; and which was the 
 best preventive of that constitutional melancholy which was 
 ever lurking about him, ready to trouble his quiet. But his 
 enlarged and lively mind could not be satisfied without more 
 diversity of employment, and the pleasure of animated re- 
 laxation. He therefore not only exerted his talents in occa- 
 sional composition, very different from Lexicography, but 
 formed a club in Ivy-lane, Paternoster Row, with a view to 
 enjoy literary discussion, and amuse his evening hours. 
 The members associated with him in this little society were 
 his beloved friend Dr. Richard Bathurst, Mr. Hawkesworth, 
 afterwards well known by his writings, Mr. John Hawkins, 
 an attorney, and a few others of different professions. 
 
CHAPTER III (1749-1757) 
 The Period of Literary Activity 
 
 Publication of The Vanity of Human Wishes — The Production of 
 Irene — Johnson's Habits of Literary Composition — His Style — 
 A Comparison with Addison — Death pf Johnson's Wife — His Deep 
 Affection for Her — Some-of Johnson's Friends — Bennet Langton 
 and Topham Beauclerk — Completion of the Dictionary — The Re- 
 jection of Lord Chesterfield's Patronage — Johnson's Letter to 
 Chesterfield — Johnson's Definitions — His Prejudices Exhibited — ■ 
 Compensation for the Dictionary — Essays and Reviews on many 
 Subjects — Proposals for an Edition of Shakespeare. 
 
 In January, 1749, he published The Vanity of Human 
 Wishes, being the Tenth Satire of Juvenal imitated. He, I 
 believe, composed it the preceding year. Mrs. Johnson, for 
 the sake of country air, had lodgings at Hampstead, to which 
 he resorted occasionally, and there the greatest part, if not 
 the whole, of his Imitation was written. The fervid rapidity 
 with which it was produced is scarcely credible. I have 
 heard him say, that he composed seventy lines of it in one 
 day, without putting one of them on paper till they were 
 finished. I remember when I once regretted to him that he 
 had not given us more of Juvenal's Satires, he said, he prob- 
 ably should give more, for he had them all in his head; by 
 which I understood, that he had the originals and correspond- 
 ent allusions floating in his mind, which he could, when he 
 pleased, embody and render permanent without much labor. 
 Some of them, however, he observed were too gross for imi- 
 tation. 
 
 The profits of a single poem, however excellent, appear to 
 have been very small in the last reign, compared with what 
 a publication of the same size has since been known to yield. 
 I have mentioned upon Johnson's own authority, that for 
 his London he had only ten guineas; and now, after his 
 
 33 
 
34 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1749 
 
 fame was established, he got for his Vanity of Human Wishes 
 but five guineas more, as is proved by an authentic docu- 
 ment in my possession. 
 
 Garrick being now vested with theatrical power by being 
 manager of Drury-lane theatre, he kindly and generously 
 made use of it to bring out Johnson's tragedy, which had been 
 long kept back for want of encouragement. But in this 
 benevolent purpose he met with no small difficulty from the 
 temper of Johnson, which could not brook that a drama 
 which he had formed with much study, and had been obliged 
 to keep more than the nine years of Horace, should be re- 
 vised and altered at the pleasure of an actor. Yet Garrick 
 knew well, that without some alterations it would not be 
 fit for the stage. A violent dispute having ensued between 
 them, Garrick applied to the Reverend Dr. Taylor to inter- 
 pose. Johnson was at first very obstinate. "Sir, (said he) 
 the fellow wants me to make Mohamet run mad, that he 
 may have an opportunity of tossing his hands and kicking 
 his heels. " He was, however, at last, with difficulty, pre- 
 vailed on to comply with Garrick's wishes, so as to allow of 
 some changes; but still there were not enough. 
 
 Dr. Adams was present the first night of the representation 
 of Irene, and gave me the following account: " Before the cur- 
 tain drew up, there were catcalls whistling, which alarmed 
 Johnson's friends. The Prologue, which was written by 
 himself in a manly strain, soothed the audience, and the play 
 went off tolerably, till it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. 
 Pritchard, the heroine of the piece, was to be strangled upon 
 the stage, and was to speak two lines, with the bow-string 
 round her neck. The audience cried out 'Murder! Murder!' 
 She several times attempted to speak, but in vain. At last 
 she was obliged to go off the stage alive." This passage was 
 afterwards struck out, and she was carried off to be put to 
 death behind the scenes, as the play now has it. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as 
 Garrick, Barry, Mrs. Gibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every ad- 
 vantage of dress and decoration, the tragedy of Irene did not 
 please the public. Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it through for 
 
Age 40-41] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 35 
 
 nine nights, so that the author had his three nights' profits; 
 and from a receipt signed by him, now in the hands of 
 Mr. James Dodsley, it appears that his friend, Mr. Robert 
 Dodsley, gave him one hundred pounds for the copy, with 
 his usual reservation of the right of one edition. 
 
 On occasion of this play being brought upon the stage, 
 Johnson had a fancy that as a dramatic author his dress 
 should be more gay than what he ordinarily wore; he there- 
 fore appeared behind the scenes, and even in one of the side 
 boxes, in a scarlet waistcoat, with rich gold lace, and a gold- 
 laced hat. He humorously observed to Mr. Langton, "that 
 when in that dress he could not treat people with the same 
 ease as when in his usual plain clothes." Dress indeed, we 
 must allow, has more effect even upon strong minds than one 
 should suppose, without having had the experience of it. 
 His necessary attendance while his play was in rehearsal, 
 and during its performance, brought him acquainted with 
 many of the performers of both sexes, which produced a more 
 favorable opinion of their profession than he had harshly 
 expressed in his Life of Savage. With some of them he kept 
 up an acquaintance as long as he and they lived, and was 
 ever ready to show them acts of kindness. He for a con- 
 siderable time used to frequent the Green-room, and seemed 
 to take delight in dissipating his gloom, by mixing in the 
 sprightly chit-chat of the motley circle then to be found there. 
 
 In 1750 he came forth in the character for which he was 
 eminently qualified, a majestic teacher of moral and religious 
 wisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a period- 
 ical paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, 
 employed with great success. The Tatler, Spectator, and 
 Guardian were the last of the kind published in England, 
 which had stood the test of a long trial; and such an interval 
 had now elapsed since their publication, as made him justly 
 think that, to many of his readers, this form of instruction 
 would, in some degree, have the advantage of novelty. 
 
 The first paper of the Rambler was published on Tuesday 
 the 20th of March, 1750; and its author was able to continue 
 it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Saturday, till 
 
36 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1750 
 
 Saturday the 17th of March, 1752, on which day it closed. 
 This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his, 
 which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere, that u a man 
 may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it;" 
 for, notwithstanding his constitutional indolence, his de- 
 pression of spirits, and his labor in carrying on his Dictionary, 
 he answered the stated calls of the press twice a week from 
 the stores of his mind, during all that time; having received 
 no assistance, except four billets in No. 10, by Miss Mulso, 
 now Mrs. Chapone; No. 30, by Mrs. Catharine Talbot; 
 No. 97, by Mr. Samuel Richardson, whom he describes in an 
 introductory note as "An author who has enlarged the 
 knowledge of human nature, and taught the passions to 
 move at the command of virtue; " and Numbers 44 and 100, 
 by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. 
 
 Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the 
 authority of Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, 
 which we should suppose had been labored with all the slow 
 attention of literary leisure, were written in haste as the 
 moment pressed, without even being read over by him before 
 they were printed. It can be accounted for only in this way; 
 that by reading and meditation, and a very close inspection 
 of life, he had accumulated a great fund of miscellaneous 
 knowledge, which, by a peculiar promptitude of mind, was 
 ever ready at his call, and which he had constantly accus- 
 tomed himself to clothe in the most apt and energetic ex- 
 pression. Sir Joshua Reynolds once asked him by what 
 means he had attained his extraordinary accuracy and flow 
 of language. He told him, that he had early laid it down as 
 a fixed rule to do his best on every occasion, and in every 
 company; to impart whatever he knew in the most forcible 
 language he could put it in; and that by constant practice, 
 and never suffering any careless expression to escape him, 
 or attempting to deliver his thoughts without arranging them 
 in the clearest manner, it became habitual to him. 
 
 Johnson told me, with an amiable fondness, a little pleasing 
 circumstance relative to this work. Mrs. Johnson, in whose 
 judgment and taste he had great confidence, said to him, 
 
Age 41] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON" 37 
 
 after a few numbers of the Rambler had come out, "I thought 
 very well of you before; but I did not imagine you could 
 have written any thing equal to this." Distant praise, from 
 whatever quarter, is not so delightful as that of a wife whom 
 a man loves and esteems. Her approbation may be said 
 to "come home to his bosom;' 1 and being so near, its effect 
 is most sensible and permanent. 
 
 The Rambler has increased in fame as in age. Soon after 
 its first folio edition was concluded, it was published in six 
 duodecimo volumes; and its author lived to see ten numer- 
 ous editions of it in London, beside those of Ireland and 
 Scotland. 
 
 The style of this work has been censured by some shallow 
 critics- as involved and turgid, and abounding with anti- 
 quated and hard words. So ill-founded is the first part of 
 this objection, that I will challenge all who may honor this 
 book with a perusal, to point out any English writer whose 
 language conveys his meaning with equal force and per- 
 spicuity. It must, indeed, be allowed, that the structure 
 of his sentences is expanded, and often has somewhat of the 
 inversion of Latin; and that he delighted to express familiar 
 thoughts in philosophical language; being in this the reverse 
 of Socrates, who, it is said, reduced philosophy to the sim- 
 plicity of common life. But let us attend to what he himself 
 says in his concluding paper: "When common words were 
 less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signification, 
 I have familiarized the terms of philosophy, . by applying 
 them to popular ideas." And, as to the second part of this 
 objection, upon a late careful revision of the work, I can 
 with confidence say, that it is amazing how few of those 
 words, for which it has been unjustly characterized, are 
 actually to be found in it; I am sure, not the proportion of 
 one to each paper. This idle charge has been echoed from 
 one babbler to another, who have confounded Johnson's 
 Essays with Johnson's Dictionary; and because he thought 
 it right in a Lexicon of our language to collect many words 
 which had fallen into disuse, but were supported by great 
 authorities, it has been imagined that all of these have been 
 
38 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1750-51 
 
 interwoven into his own compositions. That some of them 
 have been adopted by him unnecessarily, may, perhaps, be 
 allowed; but, in general they are evidently an advantage, 
 for without them his stately ideas would be confined and 
 cramped. "He that thinks with more extent than another 
 will want words of larger meaning." 1 
 
 It has of late been the fashion to compare the style of 
 Addison and Johnson, and to depreciate, I think, very un- 
 justly, the style of Addison as nerveless and feeble, because 
 it has not the strength and energy of that of Johnson. Their 
 prose may be balanced like the poetry of Dryden and Pope. 
 Both are excellent, though in different ways. Addison 
 writes with the ease of a gentleman. His readers fancy that 
 a wise and accomplished companion is talking to them; so 
 that he insinuates his sentiments and taste into their minds 
 by an imperceptible influence. Johnson writes like a teacher. 
 He dictates to his readers as if from an academical chair. 
 They attend with awe and admiration; and his precepts are 
 impressed upon them by his commanding eloquence. Ad- 
 dison's style, like a light wine, pleases everybody from the 
 first. Johnson's, like a liquor of more body, seems too 
 strong at first, but, by degrees, is highly relished; and such 
 is the melody of his periods, so much do they captivate the 
 ear, and seize upon the attention, that there is scarcely any 
 writer, however inconsiderable, who does not aim, in some 
 degree, at the same species of excellence. But let us not 
 ungratefully undervalue that beautiful style, which has 
 pleasingly conveyed to us much instruction and entertain- 
 ment. Though comparatively weak, opposed to Johnson's 
 Herculean vigor, let us not call it positively feeble. Let us 
 remember the character of his style, as given by Johnson 
 himself: "What he attempted he performed: he is never 
 feeble, and he did not wish to be energetic; he is never rapid 
 and he never stagnates. His sentences have neither studied 
 amplitude, nor affected brevity: his periods, though not 
 diligently rounded, are voluble and easy. Whoever wishes 
 to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant 
 i Idler, No. 70. 
 
Age 43] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 39 
 
 but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the 
 volumes of Addison." 
 
 That there should be a suspension of his literary labors 
 during a part of the year 1752, will not seen strange, when it 
 is considered that soon after closing the Rambler, he suffered 
 a loss which, there can be no doubt, affected him with the 
 deepest distress. For on the 17th of March, 0. S., his wife 
 died. Why Sir John Hawkins should unwarrantably take 
 upon him even to suppose that Johnson's fondness for her 
 was dissembled (meaning simulated or assumed), and to 
 assert, that if it was not the case, "it was a lesson he had 
 learned by rote," I cannot conceive; unless it proceeded from 
 a want of similar feelings in his own breast. To argue from 
 her being much older than Johnson, or any other circum- 
 stances, that he really could not love her, is absurd; for 
 love is not a subject of reasoning, but of feeling, and therefore 
 there are no common principles upon which one can persuade 
 another concerning it. Every man feels for himself, and 
 knows how he is affected by particular qualities in the person 
 he admires, the impressions of which are too minute and 
 delicate to be substantiated in language. 
 
 The following very solemn and affecting prayer was found 
 after Dr. Johnson's decease, by his servant, Mr. Francis 
 Barber, who delivered it to my worthy friend the Reverend 
 Mr. Strahan, Vicar of Islington, who at my earnest request 
 has obligingly favored me with a copy of it, which he and I 
 compared with the original. I present it to the world as an 
 undoubted proof of a circumstance in the character of my 
 illustrious friend, which, though some whose hard minds I 
 never shall envy, may attack as superstitious, will I am sure 
 endear him more to numbers of good men. I have an addi- 
 tional, and that a personal motive for presenting it, because 
 it sanctions what I myself have always maintained and am 
 fond to indulge: 
 
 "April 26, 1752, being after 12 
 at Night of the 25th. 
 
 "0 Lord! Governor of heaven and earth, in whose hands 
 are embodied and departed Spirits, if thou hast ordained the 
 
40 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1752 
 
 Souls of the Dead to minister to the Living, and appointed 
 my departed Wife to have care of me, grant that I may enjoy 
 the good effects of her attention and ministration, whether 
 exercised by appearance, impulses, dreams, or in any other 
 manner agreeable to thy Government. Forgive my presump- 
 tion, enlighten my ignorance, and however meaner agents 
 are employed, grant me the blessed influences of thy holy 
 Spirit, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 
 
 The circle of his friends, indeed, at this time was extensive 
 and various, far beyond what has been generally imagined. 
 To trace his acquaintance with each particular person, if it 
 could be done, would be a task, of which the labor would not 
 be repaid by the advantage. But exceptions are to be 
 made; one of which must be a friend so eminent as Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, who was truly his dulce decus, 1 and with whom he 
 maintained an uninterrupted intimacy to the last hour of 
 his life. When Johnson lived in Castle-street, Cavendish- 
 square, he used frequently to visit two ladies who lived op- 
 posite to him, Miss Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell. 
 Reynolds used also to visit there, and thus they met. Mr. 
 Reynolds, as I have observed above, had, from the first 
 reading of his Life of Savage, conceived a very high admira- 
 tion of Johnson's powers of writing. His conversation no 
 less delighted him; and he cultivated his acquaintance 
 with the laudable zeal of one who was ambitious of general 
 improvement. Sir Johsua, indeed, was lucky enough at 
 their very first meeting to make a remark, which was so 
 much above the commonplace style of conversation, that 
 Johnson at once perceived that Reynolds had the habit of 
 thinking for himself. The ladies were regretting the death 
 of a friend, to whom they owed great obligations; upon 
 which Reynolds observed, "You have, however, the comfort 
 of being relieved from a burden of gratitude." They were 
 shocked a little at this alleviating suggestion, as too selfish; 
 but Johnson defended it in his clear and forcible manner, 
 and was much pleased with the mind, the fair view of human 
 nature, which is exhibited, like some of the reflections of 
 1 Pleasant adornment. 
 
 
Age 43] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 41 
 
 Rochefoucault. The consequence was, that he went home 
 with Re3^nolds, and supped with him. 
 
 His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq. of Langton, 
 in Lincolnshire, another much valued friend, commenced 
 soon after the conclusion of his Rambler; which that gen- 
 tleman, then a youth, had read with so much admiration, 
 that he came to London chiefly with a view of endeavoring 
 to be introduced to its author. By a fortunate chance he 
 happened to take lodgings in a house where Air. Levett fre- 
 quently visited; and having mentioned his wish to his land- 
 lady, she introduced him to Air. Levett, who readily obtained 
 Johnson's permission to bring Mr. Langton to him; as, 
 indeed, Johnson, during the whole course of his life, had no 
 shyness, real or affected, but was easy of access to all who were 
 properly recommended, and even wished to see numbers at 
 his levee, as his morning circle of company might, with strict 
 propriety, be called. Air. Langton was exceedingly sur- 
 prised when the sage first appeared. He had not received 
 the smallest intimation of his figure, dress, or manner. From 
 perusing his writings, he fancied he should see a decent, well- 
 drest, in short, a remarkably decorous philosopher. Instead 
 of which, down from his bed-chamber, about noon, came, as 
 newly risen, a huge, uncouth figure, with a little dark wig 
 which scarcely covered his head, and his clothes hanging 
 loose about him. But his conversation was so rich, so ani- 
 mated, and so forcible, and his religious and political notions 
 so congenial with those in which Langton had been educated, 
 that he conceived for him that veneration and attachment 
 which he ever preserved. Johnson was not the less ready 
 to love Mr. Langton, for his being of a very ancient family; 
 for I have heard him say, with pleasure, " Langton, Sir, has 
 a grant of free warren from Herny the Second; and Cardinal 
 Stephen Langton, in King John's reign, was of this family.'' 
 
 Air. Langton afterwards went to pursue his studies at 
 Trinity College, Oxford, where he formed an acquaintance 
 with his fellow-student, Air. Topham Beauclerk ; who, though 
 their opinions and modes of life were so different, that it 
 seemed utterly improbable that they should at all agree, 
 
42 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1752-53 
 
 had so ardent a love of literature, so acute an understanding, 
 such elegance of manners, and so well discerned the excel- 
 lent qualities of Mr. Langton, a gentleman eminent not 
 only for worth and learning, but for an inexhaustible fund 
 of entertaining conversation, that they became intimate 
 friends. 
 
 One night, when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a 
 tavern in London, and sat till about three in the morning, 
 it came into their heads to go and knock up Johnson, and see 
 if they could prevail on him to join them in a ramble. They 
 rapped violently at the door of his chambers in the Temple, 
 till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little black wig 
 on the top of his head, instead of a night-cap, and a poker 
 in his hand, imagining, probably, that some ruffians were 
 coming to attack him. When he discovered who they were, 
 and was told their errand, he smiled, and with great good 
 humor agreed to their proposal: "What, is it you, you dogs! 
 I '11 have a frisk with you." He was soon dressed, and they 
 sallied forth together into Covent-Garden, where the green- 
 grocers and fruiterers were beginning to arrange their hampers 
 just come in from the country. Johnson made some attempts 
 to help them; but the honest gardeners stared so hard at 
 his figure and manner, and odd interference, that he soon 
 saw his services were not relished. They then repaired to 
 one of the neighboring taverns, and made a bowl of that 
 liquor called Bishop, which Johnson had always liked: while 
 in joyous contempt of sleep, from which he had been roused, 
 he repeated the festive lines, 
 
 "Short, O short then be thy reign, 
 And give us to the world again! " 
 
 They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, 
 took a boat, and rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and 
 Johnson were so well pleased with their amusement, that 
 they resolved to persevere in dissipation for the rest of the 
 day: but Langton deserted them, being engaged to break- 
 fast with some young ladies. Johnson scolded him for 
 "leaving his social friends to go and sit with a set of wretched 
 
Age 45] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 43 
 
 un-idea'd girls. " Garrick being told of this ramble, said to 
 him smartly, "I heard of your frolic t'other night. You'll 
 be in the Chronicle." Upon which Johnson afterwards 
 observed, "He durst not do such a thing. His wife would 
 not let him!" 
 
 The Dictionary, we may believe, afforded Johnson full 
 occupation this year. As it approached to its conclusion, 
 he probably worked with redoubled vigor, as seamen increase 
 their exertion and alacrity when they have a near prospect 
 of their haven. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield, to whom Johnson had paid the high 
 compliment of addressing to his Lordship the Plan of the 
 Dictionary, had behaved to him in such a manner as to excite 
 his contempt and indignation. The world has been for many 
 years amused with a story confidently told, and as confidently 
 repeated with additional circumstances, that a sudden dis- 
 gust was taken by Johnson upon occasion of his having been 
 one day kept long in waiting in his Lordship's antechamber, 
 for which the reason assigned was, that he had company 
 with him; and that at last, when the door opened, out walked 
 Colley Cibber; and that Johnson was so violently provoked 
 when he found for whom he had been so long excluded, that 
 he went away in a passion, and never would return. I re- 
 member having mentioned this story to George Lord Lyttel- 
 ton, who told me, he was very intimate with Lord Chesterfield; 
 and holding it as a well-known truth, defended Lord Ches- 
 terfield by saying, that "Cibber, who had been introduced 
 familiarly by the back-stairs, had probably not been there 
 above ten minutes." It may seem strange even to entertain 
 a doubt concerning a story so long and so widely current, and 
 thus implicitly adopted, if not sanctioned, by the authority 
 which I have mentioned; but Johnson himself assured me, 
 that there was not the least foundation for it. He told me, 
 that there never was any particular incident which produced 
 a quarrel between Lord Chesterfield and him; but that his 
 Lordship's continued neglect was the reason why he resolved 
 to have no connection with him. When the Dictionary 
 was on the eve of publication, Lord Chesterfield, who, it is 
 
44 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1754-55 
 
 said, had flattered himself with expectations that Johnson 
 would dedicate the work to him, attempted, in a courtly 
 manner, to soothe and insinuate himself with the Sage, con- 
 scious, as it should seem, of the cold indifference with which 
 he had treated its learned author; and further attempted to 
 conciliate him, by writing two papers in The World, in recom- 
 mendation of the work; and it must be confessed, that they 
 contain some studied compliments, so finely turned, that if 
 there had been no previous offence, it is probable that Johnson 
 would have been highly delighted. Praise, in general, was 
 pleasing to him; but by praise from a man of rank and ele- 
 gant accomplishments, he was peculiarly gratified. 
 
 This courtly device failed of its effect. Johnson, who 
 thought that "all was false and hollow/' despised the honeyed 
 words, and was even indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, 
 for a moment, imagine, that he could be the dupe of such an 
 artifice. His expression to me concerning Lord Chesterfield, 
 upon this occasion, was, "Sir, after making great professions, 
 he had, for many years, taken no notice of me; but when my 
 Dictionary was coming out, he fell a scribbling in The World 
 about it. Upon which, I wrote him a letter expressed in 
 civil terms, but such as might show him that I did not mind 
 what he said or wrote, and that I had done with him." 
 
 This is that celebrated letter of which so much has been 
 said, and about which curiosity has been so long excited, 
 without being gratified. I for many years solicited Johnson 
 to favor me with a copy of it, that so excellent a composition 
 might not be lost to posterity. He delayed from time to 
 time to give it me; till at last in 1781, when we were on a 
 visit at Mr. Dilly's, at Southhill, in Bedfordshire, he was 
 pleased to dictate it to me from memory. He afterwards 
 found among his papers a copy of it, which he had dictated 
 to Mr. Baretti, with its title and corrections, in his own 
 hand- writing. This he gave to Mr. Langton; adding that if 
 it were to come into print, he wished it to be from that copy. 
 By Mr. Langton's kindness, I am enabled to enrich my work 
 with a perfect transcript of what the world has so eagerly 
 desired to see. 
 
Age 46] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 45 
 
 11 To The Right Honorable The Earl of Chesterfield. 
 "My Lord, February 7, 1755. 
 
 "I have been lately informed, by the proprietor of the 
 World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recom- 
 mended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To 
 be so distinguished, is an honor, which, being very little 
 accustomed to favors from the great, I know not well how 
 to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. 
 
 "When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited 
 your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, 
 by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear 
 to wish that I might boast myself Le vainquear du vainqueur 
 de la terre; 1 — that I might obtain that regard for which I 
 saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so 
 little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would 
 suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your 
 Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing 
 which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had 
 done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have 
 his all neglected, be it ever so little. 
 
 " Seven years, my Lord, have now passed, since I waited 
 in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; 
 during which time I have been pushing on my work through 
 difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have 
 brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, without one 
 act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile 
 of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had 
 a Patron before. 
 
 "The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with 
 Love, and found him a native of the rocks. 
 
 "Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern 
 on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has 
 reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice 
 with which you have been pleased to take of my labors, 
 had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed 
 till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, 
 and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. 
 1 The conqueror of the earth's conqueror. 
 
46 LIFE OF DK. JOHNSON [1755 
 
 I hope it is no very cynical asperity, not to confess obliga- 
 tions where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling 
 that the Public should consider me as owing that to a Patron, 
 which Providence has enabled me to do for myself. 
 
 " Having carried on my work thus far with so little obli- 
 gation to any favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed 
 though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; 
 for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in 
 which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, 
 
 " My Lord, 
 "Your Lordship's most humble, 
 "Most obedient servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson/' 
 
 "While this was the talk of the town, (says Dr. Adams, in 
 a letter to me) I happened to visit Dr. Warburton, who 
 finding that I was acquainted with Johnson, desired me 
 earnestly to carry his compliments to him, and to tell him, 
 that he honored him for his manly behavior in rejecting these 
 condescensions of Lord Chesterfield, and for resenting the 
 treatment he had received from him with a proper spirit. 
 Johnson was visibly pleased with this compliment, for he 
 had always a high opinion of Warburton. Indeed, the force 
 of mind which appeared in this letter, was congenial with 
 that which Warburton himself amply possessed." 
 
 Johnson having now explicitly avowed his opinion of Lord 
 Chesterfield, did not refrain from expressing himself concern- 
 ing that nobleman with pointed freedom: "This man (said 
 he) I thought had been a Lord among wits; but, I find, he 
 is only a wit among Lords!" 
 
 Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the 
 principal charge of conducting the publication of Johnson's 
 Dictionary; and as the patience of the proprietors was re- 
 peatedly tried and almost exhausted, by their expecting 
 that the work would be completed, within the time which 
 Johnson had sanguinely supposed, the learned author was 
 often goaded to dispatch, more especially as he had received 
 all the copy money, by different drafts, a considerable time 
 before he had finished his task. When the messenger who 
 
Age 46] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 47 
 
 carried the last sheet to Millar returned, Johnson asked him, 
 "Well, what did he say?" — "Sir, (answered the messenger) 
 he said, thank God I have done with him." "I am glad 
 (replied Johnson, with a smile), that he thanks God for any- 
 thing." It is remarkable, that those with whom Johnson 
 chiefly contracted for his literary labors were Scotchmen, 
 Mr. Millar and Mr. Strahan. Millar, though himself no 
 great judge of literature, had good sense enough to have for 
 his friends very able men, to give him their opinion and advice 
 in the purchase of copyright; the consequence of which was 
 his acquiring a very large fortune, with great liberality. 
 Johnson said of him, "I respect Millar, Sir; he has raised 
 the price of literature." The same praise may be justly given 
 to Panckoucke, the eminent bookseller of Paris. Mr. 
 Strahan's liberality, judgment, and success are well known. 
 The Dictionary, with a Grammar and History of the English 
 Language, being now at length published, in two volumes 
 folio, the world contemplated with wonder so stupendous 
 a work achieved by one man, while other countries had 
 thought such undertakings fit only for whole academies. 
 Vast as his powers were, I cannot but think that his imagi- 
 nation deceived him, when he supposed that by constant 
 application he might have performed the task in three years. 
 Let the Preface be attentively perused, in which is given, 
 in a clear, strong, and glowing style, a comprehensive, yet 
 particular view of what he had done; and it will be evident, 
 that the time he employed upon it was comparatively short. 
 I am unwilling to swell my book with long quotations from 
 w T hat is in everybody's hands, and I believe there are few 
 prose compositions in the English language that are read 
 with more delight, or are more impressed upon the memory, 
 than that preliminary discourse. Qne of its excellencies 
 has always struck me with peculiar admiration; I mean the 
 perspicuity with which he has expressed abstract scientific 
 notions. As an instance of this, I shall quote the following 
 sentence: "When the radical idea branches out into parallel 
 ramifications how can a consecutive series be formed of 
 senses in their own nature collateral?" We have here an 
 
48 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1755 
 
 example of what has been often said, and I believe with jus- 
 tice, that there is for every thought a certain nice adaptation 
 of words which none other could equal, and which, when a 
 man has been so fortunate as to hit, he has attained, in that 
 particular case, the perfection of language. 
 
 A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. 
 Thus, Windward and Leeward, though directly of opposite 
 meaning, are defined identically the same way; as to which 
 inconsiderable specks it is enough to observe, that his Preface 
 announces that he was aware there might be many such in 
 • so immense a work; nor was he at all disconcerted when an 
 instance was pointed out to him. A lady once asked him 
 how he came to define Pastern the knee of a horse: instead 
 of making an elaborate defence, as she expected, he at once 
 answered, " Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance." His defi- 
 nition of Network has been often quoted with sportive malig- 
 nity, as obscuring a thing in itself very plain. But to these 
 frivolous censures no other answer is necessary than that 
 with which we are furnished by his own Preface. "To ex- 
 plain, requires the use of terms less abstruse than that which 
 is to be explained, and such terms cannot always be found. 
 For as nothing can be proved but by supposing something 
 intuitively known, and evident without proof, so nothing 
 can be defined but by the use of words too plain to admit 
 of definition. Sometimes easier words are changed into 
 harder; as burial into sepulture or interment; dry, into desic- 
 cative; dryness, into siccity or aridity; fit, into paroxysm; 
 for the easiest word, whatever it be, can never be translated 
 into one more easy." 
 
 His introducing his own opinions, and even prejudices, 
 under general definitions of words, while at the same time 
 the original meaning of the words is not explained, as his 
 Tory, Whig, Pension, Oats, Excise, and a few more, cannot 
 be fully defended, and must be placed to the account of 
 capricious and humorous indulgence. Talking to me upon 
 this subject when we were at Ashbourne in 1777, he men- 
 tioned a still stronger instance of the predominance of his 
 private feelings in the composition of this work, than any 
 
Age 46-47] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 49 
 
 now to be found in it. " You know, Sir, Lord Gower forsook 
 the old Jacobite interest. When I came to the word Renegado, 
 after telling that it meant 'one who deserts to the enemy, 
 a revolter/ I added, Sometimes we say a Gower. Thus 
 it went to the press: but the printer had more wit than I, 
 and struck it out." 
 
 Let it, however, be remembered, that this indulgence 
 does not display itself only in sarcasm towards others, but 
 sometimes in playful allusion to the notions commonly en- 
 tertained of his own laborious task. Thus: "Grub-street, 
 the name of a street in London, much inhabited by writers 
 of small histories, dictionaries, and temporary poems; whence 
 any mean production is called Grub-street." — "Lexicog- 
 rapher, a writer of dictionaries, a harmless drudge" 
 
 He had spent, during the progress of the work, the money 
 for which he had contracted to write his Dictionary. We 
 have seen that the reward of his labor was only fifteen hun- 
 dred and seventy-five pounds; and when the expense of 
 amanuenses and paper, and other articles, are deducted, 
 his clear profit was very inconsiderable. I once said to him, 
 "I am sorry, Sir, you did not get more for your Dictionary" 
 His answer was, "I am sorry, too. But it was very well. 
 The booksellers are generous, liberal-minded men." He, 
 upon all occasions, did ample justice to their character in 
 this respect. He considered them as the patrons of litera- 
 ture; and, indeed, although they have eventually been 
 considerable gainers by his Dictionary, it is to them that we 
 owe its having been undertaken and carried through at the 
 risk of great expense, for they were not absolutely sure of 
 being indemnified. 
 
 He engaged also to superintend and contribute largely 
 to another monthly publication entitled The Literary Maga- 
 zine, or Universal Review; the first number of which came 
 out in May this year. What were his emoluments from this 
 undertaking, and what other writers were employed in it, I 
 have not discovered. He continued to write in it, with 
 intermissions, till the fifteenth number; and I think that 
 he never gave better proofs of the force, acuteness, and 
 
50 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1756 
 
 vivacity of his mind, than in this miscellany, whether we 
 consider his original essays, or his reviews of the works of 
 others. The " Preliminary Address " to the public, is a 
 proof how this great man could embellish, with the graces 
 of superior composition, even so trite a thing as the plan of a 
 magazine. 
 
 His original essays are, An Introduction to the Political 
 State of Great Britain; Remarks on the Militia Bill; Obser- 
 vations on his Britannic Majesty's Treaties with the Empress 
 of Russia and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel; Observations 
 on the Present State of Affairs; and Memoirs of Frederick 
 III, King of Prussia. In all these he displays extensive 
 political knowledge and sagacity, expressed with uncommon 
 energy and perspicuity, without any of those words which he 
 sometimes took a pleasure in adopting, in imitation of Sir 
 Thomas Browne; of whose Christian Morals he this year 
 gave an edition, with his "Life" prefixed to it, which is one 
 of Johnson's best biographical performances. 
 
 His reviews are of the following books: Birch's History 
 of the Royal Society; Murphy's Gray's Inn Journal; Warton's 
 Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope, Vol. I. Hampton's 
 Translation of Polybius; Black well's Memoirs of the Court 
 of Augustus; Russel's Natural History of Aleppo; Sir Isaac 
 Newton's Arguments in Proof of a Deity; Borlase's History 
 of the Isles of Scilly; Holme's Experiments on Bleaching; 
 Browne's Christian Morals; Hale's On Distilling Sea-water, 
 Ventilators in Ships, and Curing an III Taste in Milk; Lucas's 
 Essays on Waters; Keith's Catalogue of the Scottish Bishops; 
 Browne's History of Jamaica; Philosophical Transactions, 
 Vol. XLIX; Mrs. Lennox's Translation of Sully's Memoirs;* 
 Miscellanies by Elizabeth Harrison; Letter on the Case of 
 Admiral Byng; * Appeal to the People concerning Admiral 
 Byng; * Hanway's Eight Days' Journey, and Essay on Tea; 
 Evans' Map and Account of the Middle Colonies in America; 
 The Cadet, a Military Treatise; Some further Particulars 
 in Relation to the Case of Admiral Byng, by a Gentleman of 
 Oxford; * The Conduct of the Ministry relating to the present 
 War impartially examined; A Free Inquiry into the Nature 
 
Age 47-48] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 51 
 
 and Origin of Evil* All these, from internal evidence, were 
 written by Johnson: some of them I know he avowed, and 
 have marked them with an asterisk accordingly. 
 
 Johnson's most exquisite critical essay in the Literary 
 Magazine, and indeed anywhere, is his review of Soame 
 Jenyns's Inquiry into the Origin of Evil. Jenyns was pos- 
 sessed of lively talents, and a style eminently pure and easy, 
 and could very happily play with a light subject, either in 
 prose or verse; but when he speculated on that most difficult 
 and excruciating question, the origin of Evil, he "ven- 
 tured far beyond his depth/ ' and accordingly, was exposed 
 by Johnson, both with acute argument and brilliant wit. I 
 remember when the late Mr. BicknelTs humorous perform- 
 ance, entitled The Musical Travels of Joel Collyer, in which a 
 slight attempt is made to ridicule Johnson, was ascribed to 
 Soame Jenyns, "Ha! (said Johnson) I thought I had given 
 him enough of it." 
 
 He this year resumed his scheme of giving an edition of 
 Shakespeare with notes. He issued proposals of considerable 
 length, in which he showed that he perfectly well knew what 
 variety of research such an undertaking required; but his 
 indolence prevented him from pursuing it with that diligence 
 which alone can collect those scattered facts, that genius, 
 however acute, penetrating, and luminous, cannot discover 
 by its own force. It is remarkable, that at this time his 
 fancied activity was for the moment so vigorous, that he 
 promised his work should be published before Christmas, 
 1757. Yet nine years elapsed before it saw the light. 
 
CHAPTER IV (1758-1762) 
 The Pensioning of Johnson 
 
 Publication of The Idler — Death of Johnson's Mother — John- 
 son's Letters on This Subject — The Writing of Rasselas — The 
 Excursion to Oxford — Johnson's Negro Servant, Francis Barber — 
 The Accession of George III — Granting of a Pension to Johnson — 
 A Defense of Johnson's Acceptance. 
 
 On the fifteenth of April (1758) he began a new periodical 
 paper entitled The Idler, which came out every Saturday in a 
 weekly newspaper, called the Universal Chronicle, or Weekly 
 Gazette, published by Newbery. These essays were con- 
 tinued till April 5, 1760. Of one hundred and three, their 
 total number, twelve were contributed by his friends; of 
 which, Numbers 33, 93, and 96, were written by Mr. Thomas 
 Warton; No. 67 by Mr. Langton; and Nos. 76, 79, and 82, 
 by Sir Joshua Reynolds; the concluding words of No. 82, 
 "and pollute his canvas with deformity/' being added by 
 Johnson; as Sir Joshua informed me. 
 
 The Idler is evidently the work of the same mind which 
 produced the Rambler, but has less body and more spirit, it 
 has more variety of real life, and greater facility of language. 
 He describes the miseries of idleness, with the lively sensa- 
 tions of one who has felt them; and in his private memoran- 
 dums while engaged in it, we find "This year I hope to learn 
 diligence." Many of these excellent essays were written as 
 hastily as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton remembers 
 Johnson, when on a visit at Oxford, asking him one evening 
 how long it was till the post went out; and on being told about 
 half an hour, he exclaimed, "Then we shall do very well." 
 He upon this instantly sat down and finished an Idler, which 
 it was necessary should be in London the next day. Mr. 
 Langton having signified a wish to read it, "Sir, (said he,) 
 you shall not do more than I have done myself." He then 
 folded it up, and sent it off. 
 
 52 
 
Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 53 
 
 In 1759, in the month of January, his mother died at the 
 great age of ninety, an event which deeply affected him; not 
 that "his mind had acquired no firmness by the contempla- 
 tion of mortality;" but that his reverential affection for her 
 was not abated by years, as indeed he retained all his tender 
 feelings even to the latest period of his life. I have been told, 
 that he regretted much his not having gone to visit his mother 
 for several years previous to her death. But he was con- 
 stantly engaged in literary labors which confined him to 
 London and though he had not the comfort of seeing his aged 
 parent he contributed to her support. 
 
 " To Mrs. Johnson, in Lichfield, 
 "Honored Madam, 
 
 "The account which Miss (Porter) gives me of your health, 
 pierces my heart. God comfort, and preserve you, and save 
 you, for the sake of Jesus Christ. 
 
 "I would have Miss read to you from time to time the 
 Passion of our Saviour, and sometimes the sentences in the 
 Communion Service, beginning — Come unto me all ye that 
 travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 
 
 "I have just now read a physical book, which inclines me 
 to think that a strong infusion of the bark would do you good. 
 Do, dear mother, try it. 
 
 "Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have 
 done amiss to you. And whatever you would have done, 
 and what debts you would have paid first, or any thing else 
 that you would direct, let Miss put it down; I shall endeavor 
 to obey 3^ou. 
 
 "I have got twelve guineas to send you, but unhappily am 
 at a loss how to send it to-night. If I cannot send it to-night, 
 it will come by the next post. 
 
 "Pray, do not omit anything mentioned in this letter. 
 God bless you for ever and ever. 
 
 "I am, 
 
 "Your dutiful Son, 
 
 "Jan. 13, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
54 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759 
 
 " To Miss Porter, At Mrs. Johnson's, in Lichfield. 
 "My Dear Miss, 
 
 "I think myself obliged to you beyond all expression of 
 gratitude for your care of my dear mother. God grant it may 
 not be without success. Tell Kitty, that I shall never forget 
 her tenderness for her mistress. Whatever you can do, con- 
 tinue to do. My heart is very full. 
 
 "I hope you received twelve guineas on Monday. I found 
 a way of sending them by means of the Postmaster, after I 
 had written my letter, and hope they came safe. I will send 
 you more in a few days. God bless you all. 
 "I am, my dear, 
 "Your most obliged 
 
 "and most humble servant, 
 "Jan. 16, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "Over the leaf is a letter to my mother." 
 "Dear Honored Mother, 
 
 "Your weakness afflicts me beyond what I am willing to 
 communicate to you. I do not think you unfit to face death, 
 but I know not how to bear the thought of losing you. En- 
 deavor to do all you can for yourself. Eat as much as you 
 can. 
 
 "I pray often for you; do you pray for me. — I have 
 nothing to add to my last letter. 
 
 "I am, dear, dear Mother, 
 "Your dutiful Son, 
 "Jan. 16, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " To Mrs. Johnson, in Lichfield. 
 "Dear Honored Mother, 
 
 "I fear you are too ill for long letters; therefore I will only 
 tell you, you have from me all the regard that can possibly 
 subsist in the heart. I pray God to bless you for evermore 
 for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 55 
 
 "Let Miss write to me every post, however short. 
 "I am, dear Mother, 
 "Your dutiful Son, 
 "Jan. 18, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "To Miss Porter, at Mrs. Johnson's in Lichfield. 
 " Dear Miss, 
 
 "I will, if it be possible, come down to you. God grant I 
 may yet find my dear mother breathing and sensible. Do 
 not tell her, lest I disappoint her. If I miss to write next post, 
 
 I am on the road. 
 
 "I am, my dearest Miss, 
 "Your most humble servant, 
 "Jan. 20, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "On the other side." 
 "Dear Honored Mother, 
 
 "Neither your condition nor your character make it fit for 
 me to say much. You have been the best mother, and I be- 
 lieve the best woman in the w^orld. I thank you for your 
 indulgence to me, and beg forgiveness of all that I have done 
 ill, and all that I have omitted to do well. God grant you 
 his Holy Spirit, and receive you to everlasting happiness, for 
 Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Lord Jesus receive your spirit. 
 Amen. 
 
 "I am, dear, dear Mother, 
 "Your dutiful Son, 
 
 II Jan. 20, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " To Miss Porter, in Lichfield. 
 "You will conceive my sorrow for the loss of my mother, 
 of the best mother. If she were to live again, surely I should 
 behave better to her. But she is happy, and what is past is 
 nothing to her; and for me, since I cannot repair my faults to 
 her, I hope repentance will efface them. I return you and 
 all those that have been good to her my sincerest thanks, and 
 pray God to repay you all with infinite advantage. Write 
 to me, and comfort me, dear child. I shall be glad likewise, 
 
56 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON (1759 
 
 if Kitty will write to me. I shall send a bill of twenty pounds 
 in a few days, which I thought to have brought to my mother; 
 but God suffered it not. I have not power or composure to 
 say much more. God bless you, and bless us all. 
 "I am, dear Miss, 
 "Your affectionate humble Servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "Jan. 23, 1759." 
 
 Soon after this event, he wrote his Rasselas, Prince of 
 Abyssinia, concerning the publication of which Sir John 
 Hawkins guesses vaguely and idly, instead of having taken 
 the trouble to inform himself with authentic precision. Not 
 to trouble my readers with a repetition of the Knight's 
 reveries, I have to mention, that the late Mr. Strahan the 
 printer told me, that Johnson wrote it, that with the profits 
 he might defray the expense of his mother's funeral, and pay 
 some little debts which she had left. He told Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, that he composed it in the evenings of one week, 
 sent it to the press in portions as it was written, and had 
 never since read it over. Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and 
 Mr. Dodsley, purchased it for a hundred pounds, but after- 
 wards paid him twenty-five pounds more, when it came to a 
 second edition. 
 
 Considering the large sums which have been received for 
 compilations, and works requiring not much more genius than 
 compilations, we cannot but wonder at the very low price 
 which he was content to receive for this admirable perform- 
 ance; which, though he had written npthing else, would have 
 rendered his name immortal in the world of literature. None 
 of his writings has been so extensively diffused over Europe; 
 for it has been translated into most, if not all, of the modern 
 languages. This Tale, with all the charms of oriental 
 imagery, and all the force and beauty of which the English 
 language is capable, leads us through the most important 
 scenes of human life, and shows us that this stage of our being 
 is full of "vanity and vexation of spirit." To those who 
 look no further than the present life, or who maintain that 
 
 
Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 57 
 
 human nature has not fallen from the state in which it was 
 created, the instruction of this sublime story will be of no 
 avail. But they who think justly, and feel with strong sensi- 
 bility, will listen with eagerness and admiration to its truth 
 and wisdom. Voltaire's Candide, written to refute the sys- 
 tem of Optimism, which it has accomplished with brilliant 
 success, is wonderfully similar in its plan and conduct to 
 Johnson's Rasselas; insomuch, that I have heard Johnson 
 say, that if they had not been published so closely one after 
 the other that there was not time for imitation, it would have 
 been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which came 
 latest was taken from the other. Though the proposition 
 illustrated by both these works was the same, namely, that 
 in our present state there is more evil than good, the intention 
 of the writers was very different. Voltaire I am afraid, meant 
 only by wanton profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over 
 religion, and to discredit the belief of a superintending Provi- 
 dence : Johnson meant, by showing the unsatisfactory nature 
 of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man to things 
 eternal. Rasselas, as w 7 as observed to me by a very accom- 
 plished lady, may be considered as a more enlarged and more 
 deeply philosophical discourse in prose, upon the interesting 
 truth, which in his Vanity of Human Wishes he had so suc- 
 cessfully enforced in verse. 
 
 The fund of thinking which this work contains is such, that 
 almost every sentence of it may furnish a subject of long 
 meditation. I am not satisfied if a year passes without my 
 having read it through ; and at every persual, my admiration 
 of the mind which produced it is so highly raised, that I can 
 scarcely believe that I had the honor of enjoying the intimacy 
 of such a man. 
 
 He now refreshed himself by an excursion to Oxford, of 
 which the following short characteristical notice, in his own 
 words, is preserved: ". . . is now making tea for me. 
 I have been in my gown ever since I came here. It was, at 
 my first coming, quite new and handsome. I have swum 
 thrice, which I had disused for many years. I have proposed 
 to Vansittart climbing over the wall, but he has refused me, 
 
58 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759-60 
 
 and I have clapped my hands till they are sore, at Dr. King's 
 speech/' 
 
 His negro servant, Francis Barber, having left him, and 
 been some time at sea, not pressed as has been supposed, but 
 with his own consent, it appears from a letter to John Wilkes, 
 Esq., from Dr. Smollett, that his master kindly interested 
 himself in procuring his release from a state of life of which 
 Johnson always expressed the utmost abhorrence. He said, 
 "No man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get 
 himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in a jail, with 
 the chance of being drowned." And at another time, "A 
 man in a jail has more room, better food, and commonly better 
 company." The letter was as follows: 
 
 " Chelsea, March 16, 1759. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I am again your petitioner, in behalf of that great Cham 
 of literature, Samuel Johnson. His black servant, whose 
 name is Francis Barber, has been pressed on board the Stag 
 Frigate, Captain Angel, and our lexicographer is in great dis- 
 tress. He says, the boy is a sickly lad, of a delicate frame, 
 and particularly subject to a malady in his throat, which 
 renders him very unfit for his Majesty's service. You know 
 what matter of animosity the said Johnson has against you: 
 and I dare say you desire no other opportunity of resenting 
 it, than that of laying him under an obligation. He was 
 humble enough to desire my assistance on this occasion, 
 though he and I were never cater-cousins; and I gave him 
 to understand that I would make application to my friend, 
 Mr. Wilkes, who, perhaps, by his interest with Dr. Hay and 
 Mr. Elliot, might be able to procure the discharge of his 
 lacquey. It would be superfluous to say more on the subject, 
 which I leave to your own consideration; but I cannot let 
 slip this opportunity of declaring that I am, with the most 
 inviolable esteem and attachment, dear Sir, 
 
 " Your affectionate obliged humble servant, 
 "T. Smollett." 
 
 Mr. Wilkes, who upon all occasions has acted as a private 
 gentleman with most polite liberality, applied to his friend Sir 
 
Age 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHN30N 59 
 
 George Hay, then one of the Lords Commissioners of the 
 Admiralty; and Francis Barber was discharged, as he has 
 told me, without any wish of his own. He found his old 
 master in Chambers in the Inner Temple, and returned to his 
 service. 
 
 In 1761 Johnson appears to have done little. He was still, 
 no doubt, proceeding in his edition of Shakespeare ; but what 
 advances he made in it cannot be ascertained. He certainly 
 was at this time not active; for, in his scrupulous examination 
 of himself on Easter eve, he laments, in his too rigorous mode 
 of censuring his own conduct, that his life, since the com- 
 munion of the preceding Easter, had been " dissipated and 
 useless." He, however, contributed this year the Preface to 
 Rolfs Dictionary of Trade and Commerce, in which he 
 displays such a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the 
 subject, as might lead the reader to think that its author had 
 devoted all his life to it. I asked him, whether he knew much 
 of Rolt, and of his work. "Sir, (said he) I never saw the man, 
 and never read the book. The booksellers wanted a Preface 
 to a Dictionary of Trade and Commerce. I knew very well 
 what such a Dictionary should be, and I wrote a Preface 
 accordingly." Rolt, who wrote a great deal for the book- 
 sellers, was, as Johnson told me, a singular character. Though 
 not in the least acquainted with him, he used to say, "I am 
 just come from Sam. Johnson." This was a sufficient speci- 
 men of his vanity and impudence. But he gave a more 
 eminent proof of it in our sister kingdom, as Dr. Johnson in- 
 formed me. When Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination 
 first came out, he did not put his name to the poem. Rolt 
 went over to Dublin, published an edition of it, and put his 
 own name to it. Upon the fame of this he lived for several 
 months, being entertained at the best tables as the "the 
 ingenious Mr. Rolt." His conversation indeed, did not dis- 
 cover much of the fire of a poet; but it was recollected, that 
 both Addison and Thomson were equally dull till excited by 
 wine. Akenside having been informed of this imposition, 
 vindicated his right by publishing the poem with its real 
 author's name. 
 
60 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762 
 
 The accession of George III to the throne of these king- 
 doms, opened a new and brighter prospect to men of literary 
 merit, who had been honored with no mark of royal favor in 
 the preceding reign. His present Majesty's education in this 
 country, as well as his taste and beneficence, prompted him 
 to be the patron of science and the arts; and early this year 
 Johnson having been represented to him as a very learned and 
 good man, without any certain provision, his Majesty was 
 pleased to grant him a pension of three hundred pounds a 
 year. The Earl of Bute, who was then Prime Minister, had 
 the honor to announce this instance of his Sovereign's bounty, 
 concerning which, many and various stories, all equally 
 erroneous, have been propagated; maliciously representing 
 it as a political bribe to Johnson, to desert his avowed prin- 
 ciples, and become the tool of a government which he held to 
 be founded in usurpation. I have taken care to have it in 
 my power to refute them from the most authentic information. 
 Lord Bute told me, that Mr. Wedderburne, now Lord Lough- 
 borough, was the person who first mentioned this subject to 
 him. Lord Loughborough told me, that the pension was 
 granted to Johnson solely as the reward of his literary merit, 
 without any stipulation whatever, or even tacit understand- 
 ing that he should write for administration. His Lordship 
 added, that he was confident the political tracts which Johnson 
 afterwards did write, as they were entirely consonant with 
 his own opinions, would have been written by him, though no 
 pension had been granted to him. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Sheridan and Mr. Murphy, who then lived a 
 good deal both with him and Mr. Wedderburne, told me, that 
 they previously talked with Johnson upon this matter, and 
 that it was perfectly understood by all parties that the pension 
 was merely honorary. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that 
 Johnson called on him after his Majesty's intention had been 
 notified to him, and said he wished to consult his friends as 
 to the propriety of his accepting this mark of the royal favor, 
 after the definitions which he had given in his Dictionary of 
 pension and pensioners. He said he should not have Sir 
 Joshua's answer till next day, when he would call again, and 
 
Age 53] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 61 
 
 desired he might think of it. Sir Joshua answered that he was 
 clear to give his opinion then, that there could be no objection 
 to his receiving from the King a reward for literary merit; 
 and that certainly the definitions in his Dictionary were not 
 applicable to him. Johnson, it should seem, was satisfied, 
 for he did not call again till he had accepted the pension, and 
 had waited on Lord Bute to thank him. He then told Sir 
 Joshua that Lord Bute said to him expressly, "It is not given 
 you for anything you are to do, but for what you have done/' 
 His Lordship, he said, behaved in the handsomest manner. 
 He repeated the words twice, that he might be sure Johnson 
 heard them, and thus set his mind perfectly at ease. This 
 nobleman, who has been so virulently abused, acted with great 
 honor in this instance, and displayed a mind truly liberal. 
 A minister of a more narrow and selfish disposition would have 
 availed himself of such an opportunity to fix an implied 
 obligation on a man of Johnson's powerful talents to give him 
 his support. 
 
 But I shall not detain my readers longer by any words of my 
 own, on a subject on which I am happily enabled, by the favor 
 of the Earl of Bute, to present them with what Johnson him- 
 self wrote; his lordship having been pleased to communicate 
 to me a copy of the following letter to his late father, which 
 does great honor both to the writer, and to the noble person 
 to whom it is addressed: 
 
 " To the Right Honorable The Earl of Bute, 
 "My Lord, 
 
 "When the bills were yesterday delivered to me by Mr. 
 Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future favors 
 which his Majesty has, by your Lordship's recommendation, 
 been induced to intend for me. 
 
 "Bounty always receives part of its value from the manner 
 in which it is bestowed; your Lordship's kindness includes 
 every circumstance that can gratify delicacy, or enforce 
 obligation. You have conferred your favors on a man who 
 has neither alliance nor interest, who has not merited 
 them by services, nor courted them by officiousness; you 
 
62 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762 
 
 have spared him the shame of solicitation, and the anxiety 
 of suspense. 
 
 "What has been thus elegantly given, will, I hope, not be 
 reproachfully enjoyed; I shall endeavor to give your Lordship 
 the only recompense which generosity desires, — the grati- 
 fication of finding that your benefits are not improperly be- 
 stowed. I am, my Lord, 
 
 "Your Lordship's most obliged, 
 "Most obedient, and most humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 " July 20, 1762." 
 
CHAPTER V (1763) 
 
 Boswell's Memorable Year: The Meeting with 
 Johnson 
 
 Boswell's Plans for Meeting Johnson — Obstacles — The Quarrel 
 with Sheridan — Boswell in Davies's Bookshop — Entry of Johnson 
 — The Famous Meeting — Boswell Rebuked — Boswell Calls on 
 Johnson — Remarks of Johnson on Madness — On Christopher 
 Smart — On Garrick — At the Mitre Tavern — Johnson on Colley 
 Cibber — On Gray — On Mallet — Dr. Goldsmith — Johnson and 
 Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield — Johnson on Scotland — On 
 Rhyme and Blank Verse — Johnson's Library — Johnson on Con- 
 ventional Lies — On the Acquaintance of Young People — On the 
 Hebrides — On a Boy at School — On Greek and Latin — On 
 Preaching — On the Pleasures of Nature — Johnson Accompanies 
 Boswell to Harwich — Johnson's Habits at the Table — The Parting 
 of the Friends at Harwich. 
 
 This is to me a memorable year; for in it I had the happi- 
 ness to obtain the acquaintance of that extraordinary man 
 whose memoirs I am now writing; an acquaintance which I 
 shall ever esteem as one of the most fortunate circumstances 
 in my life. Though then but two-and-twenty, I had for sev- 
 eral years read his works with delight and instruction, and 
 had the highest reverence for their author, which had grown 
 up in my fancy into a kind of mysterious veneration, by 
 figuring to myself a state of solemn elevated abstraction, in 
 which I supposed him to live in the immense metropolis of 
 London. Mr. Gentleman, a native of Ireland, who passed 
 some years in Scotland as a player, and as an instructor in 
 the English language, a man whose talents and worth were 
 depressed by misfortunes, had given me a representation of 
 the figure and manner of Dictionary Johnson! as he was then 
 generally called; and during my first visit to London, which 
 was for three months in 1760, Mr. Derrick the poet, who was 
 Gentleman's friend and countryman, flattered me with hopes 
 that he would introduce me to Johnson, an honor of which I 
 
 63 
 
64 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 was very ambitious. But he never found an opportunity; 
 which made me doubt that he had promised to do what was 
 not in his power ; till Johnson some years afterwards told me, 
 " Derrick, Sir, might very well have introduced you. I had a 
 kindness for Derrick, and am sorry he is dead." 
 
 In the summer of 1761 Mr. Thomas Sheridan was at Edin- 
 burgh, and delivered lectures upon the English Language 
 and Public Speaking to large and respectable audiences. I 
 was often in his company, and heard him frequently expa- 
 tiate upon Johnson's extraordinary knowledge, talents, and 
 virtues, repeat his pointed sayings, describe his particulari- 
 ties, and boast of his being his guest sometimes till two or 
 three in the morning. At his house I hoped to have many 
 opportunities of seeing the sage, as Mr. Sheridan obligingly 
 assured me I should not be disappointed. 
 
 When I returned to London in the end of 1762, to my 
 surprise and regret I found an irreconcileable difference had 
 taken place between Johnson and Sheridan. A pension of 
 two hundred pounds a year had been given to Sheridan. 
 Johnson, who, as has been already mentioned, thought 
 slightingly of Sheridan's art, upon hearing that he was also 
 pensioned, exclaimed, "What! have they given him a pen- 
 sion? Then it is time for me to give up mine." Whether 
 this proceeded from a momentary indignation, as if it were 
 an affront to his exalted merit that a player should be re- 
 warded in the same manner with him, or was the sudden 
 effect of a fit of peevishness, it was unluckily said, and, in- 
 deed, cannot be justified. Mr. Sheridan's pension was 
 granted to him not as a player, but as a sufferer in the cause 
 of government, when he was manager of the Theatre Royal 
 in Ireland, when parties ran high in 1753. And it must 
 also be allowed that he was a man of literature, and had 
 considerably improved the arts of reading and speaking with 
 distinctness and propriety. 
 
 Johnson complained that a man who disliked him repeated 
 his sarcasm to Mr. Sheridan, without telling him what fol- 
 lowed, which was, that after a pause he added, "However, I 
 am glad that Mr. Sheridan has a pension, for he is a very 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 65 
 
 good man." Sheridan could never forgive this hasty con- 
 temptuous expression. It rankled in his mind; and though 
 I informed him of all that Johnson said, and that he would 
 be very glad to meet him amicably, he positively declined 
 repeated offers which I made, and once went off abruptly 
 from a house where he and I were engaged to dine, because 
 he was told that Dr. Johnson was to be there. I have no 
 sympathetic feeling with such persevering resentment. It 
 is painful when there is a breach between those who have 
 lived together socially and cordially; and I wonder that there 
 is not, in all such cases, a mutual wish that it should be 
 healed. I could perceive that Mr. Sheridan was by no means 
 satisfied with Johnson's acknowledging him to be a good man. 
 That could not soothe his injured vanity. I could not but 
 smile, at the same time that I was offended, to observe 
 Sheridan in The Life of Swift, which he afterwards published, 
 attempting, in the writhings of his resentment, to depreciate 
 Johnson, by characterizing him as " A writer of gigantic fame, 
 in these days of little men;" that very Johnson whom he 
 once so highly admired and venerated. 
 
 This rupture with Sheridan deprived Johnson of one of his 
 most agreeable resources for amusement in his lonely even- 
 ings; for Sheridan's well-informed, animated, and bustling 
 mind never suffered conversation to stagnate; and Mrs. 
 Sheridan was a most agreeable companion to an intellectual 
 man. She was sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet com- 
 municative. I recollect, with satisfaction, many pleasing 
 hours which I passed with her under the hospitable roof of 
 her husband, who was to me a very kind friend. Her novel, 
 entitled Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph, contains an 
 excellent moral, while it inculcates a future state of retribu- 
 tion; and what it teaches is impressed upon the mind by a 
 series of as deep distress as can affect humanit}^ in the amiable 
 and pious heroine who goes to her grave unrelieved, but re- 
 signed, and full of hope of " heaven's mercy." Johnson paid 
 her this high compliment upon it: "I know not, Madam, 
 that you have a right, upon moral principles, to make your 
 readers suffer so much." 
 
66 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 11763 
 
 Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a bookseller's 
 shop in Russel-street Covent-garden, told me that Johnson 
 was very much his friend, and came frequently to his house, 
 where he more than once invited me to meet him: but by 
 some unlucky accident or other he was prevented from com- 
 ing to us. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding and 
 talents, with the advantage of a liberal education. Though 
 somewhat pompous, he was an entertaining companion; and 
 his literary performances have no inconsiderable share of 
 merit. He was a friendly and very hospitable man. Both 
 he and his wife, (who has been celebrated for her beauty,) 
 though upon the stage for many years, maintained an uniform 
 decency of character; and Johnson esteemed them, and lived 
 in as easy an intimacy with them as with any family which 
 he used to visit. Mr. Davies recollected several of Johnson's 
 remarkable sayings, and was one. of the best of the many 
 imitators of his voice and manner, while relating them. He 
 increased my impatience more and more to see the extraordi- 
 nary man whose works I highly valued, and whose conversa- 
 tion was reported to be so peculiarly excellent. 
 
 At last, on Monday the 16th of May, when I was sitting 
 in Mr. Davies's back-parlor, after having drunk tea with 
 him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the 
 shop; and Mr. Davies having perceived him through the 
 glass-door in the room in which we were sitting, advancing 
 towards us, — he announced his awful approach to me, 
 somewhat in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, 
 when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his father's 
 ghost, "Look, my Lord, it comes." I found that I had a 
 very perfect idea of Johnson's figure, from the portrait of 
 him painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds soon after he had pub- 
 lished his Dictionary , is the attitude of sitting in his easy 
 chair in deep meditation; which was the first picture his 
 friend did for him, which Sir Joshua very kindly presented to 
 me, and from which an engraving has been made for this 
 work. Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully 
 introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollect- 
 
SAMUEL JOHNSON 
 
 IN 1756 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 

Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 67 
 
 ing his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard 
 much, I said to Davies, " Don't tell where I come from.' 7 — ■ 
 "From Scotland/' cried Davies, roguishly. "Mr. Johnson, 
 (said I) I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help 
 it." I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light 
 pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not as an humili- 
 ating abasement at the expense of my country. But however 
 that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky; for with 
 that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, he 
 seized the expression "come from Scotland," which I used in 
 the sense of being of that country; and, as if I had said that 
 I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, "That, Sir, I 
 find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot 
 help." This stroke stunned me a good deal; and when we 
 had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and ap- 
 prehensive of what might come next. He then addressed 
 himself to Davies : " What do you think of Garrick? He has 
 refused me an order for the play for Miss Williams, because 
 he knows the house will be full, and that an order would be 
 worth three shillings." Eager to take any opening to get into 
 conversation with him, I ventured to say, ' 0, Sir, I cannot 
 think Mr. Garrick would grudge such a trifle to you." "Sir, 
 (said he, with a stern look), I have known David Garrick 
 longer than you have done; and I know no right you have 
 to talk to me on the subject." Perhaps I deserved this 
 check; for it was rather presumptuous in me, an entire 
 stranger, to express any doubt of the justice of his animad- 
 version upon his old acquaintance and pupil. I now felt 
 myself much mortified, and began to think, that the hope 
 which I had long indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was 
 blasted. And, in truth, had not my ardor been uncom- 
 monly strong, and my resolution uncommonly persevering 
 so rough a reception might have deterred me for ever from 
 making any further attempts. Fortunately, however, I re- 
 mained upon the field not wholly discomfited; and was soon 
 rewarded by hearing some of his conversation, of which I 
 preserved the following short minute, without marking the 
 questions and observations by which it was produced. 
 
68 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 "People (he remarked) may be taken in once, who imagine 
 that an author is greater in private life than other men. 
 Uncommon parts require uncommon opportunities for their 
 exertion. 
 
 "In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real con- 
 sequence. Great strength or great wisdom is of much value 
 to an individual. But in more polished times there are 
 people to do everything for money; and then there are a 
 number of other superiorities, such as those of birth and 
 fortune, and rank, that dissipate men's attention, and leave 
 no extraordinary share of respect for personal and intellec- 
 tual superiority. This is wisely ordered by Providence, to 
 preserve some equality among mankind." 
 
 "Sir, this book {The Elements of Criticism, which he had 
 taken up,) is a pretty essay, and deserves to be held in some 
 estimation, though much of it is chimerical." 
 
 Speaking of one who with more than ordinary boldness 
 attacked public measures and the royal family, he said, "I 
 think he is safe from the law, but he is an abusive scoundrel, 
 and instead of applying to my Lord Chief Justice to punish 
 him, I would send half a dozen footmen and have him well 
 ducked." 
 
 "The notion of liberty amuses the people of England, and 
 helps to keep off the tedium vitae. 1 When a butcher tells you 
 that his heart bleeds for his country, he has, in fact, no uneasy 
 feeling." 
 
 "Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory. 
 Ridicule has gone down before him, and I doubt, Derrick is 
 his enemy." 
 
 "Derrick may do very well, as long as he can outrun his 
 character; but the moment his character gets up with him, 
 it is all over." 
 
 It is, however, but just to record, that some years after- 
 wards, when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he said, "Well, 
 but Derrick has now got a character that he need not run 
 away from." 
 
 I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigor of his 
 1 Ennui, boredom. 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 69 
 
 conversation, and regretted that I was drawn away from it 
 by an engagement at another place. I had, for a part of the 
 evening, been left alone with him, and had ventured to make 
 an observation now and then, which he received very civilly; 
 so that I was satisfied that though there was a roughness in 
 his manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition. Davies 
 followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a 
 little of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he 
 kindly took upon him to console me by saying, " Don't be 
 uneasy. I can see he likes you very well." 
 
 A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked him 
 if he thought I might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. 
 Johnson at his chambers in the Temple. He said I certainly 
 might, and that Mr. Johnson would take it as a compli- 
 ment. So on Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been 
 enlivened by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, 
 Churchill, and Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, 
 I boldly repaired to Johnson. His Chambers were on the 
 first floor of No. 1, Inner-Temple-lane, and I entered them 
 with an impression given me by the Reverend Dr. Blair, of 
 Edinburgh, who had been introduced to him not long before, 
 and described his having " found the Giant in his den"; an 
 expression which, when I came to be pretty well acquainted 
 with Johnson, I repeated to him, and he was diverted at this 
 picturesque account of himself. At this time the controversy 
 concerning the pieces published by Mr. James Macpherson, 
 as translations of Ossian, was at its height. Johnson had 
 all along denied their authenticity; and, what was still 
 more provoking to their admirers, maintained that they 
 had no merit. The subject having been introduced by Dr. 
 Fordyce, Dr. Blair, relying on the internal evidence of their 
 antiquity, asked Dr. Johnson whether he thought any man 
 of a modern age could have written such poems? Johnson 
 replied, "Yes, Sir, many men, many women, and many chil- 
 dren." Johnson at this time, did not know that Dr. Blair 
 had just published a Dissertation, not only defending their 
 authenticity, but seriously ranking them with the poems of 
 Homer and Virgil; and when he was afterwards informed of 
 
70 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 this circumstance, he expressed some displeasure at Dr. 
 Fordyce's having suggested the topic, and said, "I am not 
 sorry that they got thus much for their pains. Sir, it was 
 like leading one to talk of a book, when the author is con- 
 cealed behind the door." 
 
 He received me very courteously: but, it must be con- 
 fessed, that his apartment, and furniture, and morning dress, 
 were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of clothes looked 
 very rusty: he had on a little old shrivelled unpowdered wig, 
 which was too small for his head; his shirt-neck and knees 
 of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill 
 drawn up; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of 
 slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were forgot- 
 ten the moment that he began to talk. Some gentlemen, 
 whom I do not recollect, were sitting with him; and when 
 they went away, I also rose; but he said to me, "Nay, don't 
 go." — "Sir, (said I), I am afraid that I intrude upon you. 
 It is benevolent to allow me to sit and hear you." He 
 seemed pleased with this compliment, which I sincerely paid 
 him, and answered, "Sir, I am obliged to any man who 
 visits me." — I have preserved the following short minute of 
 what passed this day. 
 
 " Madness frequently discovers itself merely by unneces- 
 sary deviation from the usual modes of the world. My poor 
 friend Smart showed the disturbance of his mind, by falling 
 upon his knees, and saying his prayers in the street, or in 
 any other unusual place. Now although, rationally speak- 
 ing, it is greater madness not to pray at all, than to pray as 
 Smart did, I am afraid there are so many who do not pray, 
 that their understanding is not called in question." 
 
 Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who 
 was confined in a mad-house, he had, at another time, the 
 following conversation with Dr. Burney. — Burney. "How 
 does poor Smart do, Sir; is he likely to recover?" Johnson. 
 " It seems as if his mind had ceased to struggle with the disease; 
 for he grows fat upon it." Burney. " Perhaps, Sir, that 
 may be from want of exercise." Johnson. "No, Sir, he 
 has partly as much exercise as he used to have, for he digs in 
 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 71 
 
 the garden. Indeed, before his confinement, he used for 
 exercise to walk to the alehouse; but he was carried back 
 again. I did not think he ought to be shut up. His in- 
 firmities were not noxious to society. He insisted on people 
 praying with him; and I'd as lief pray with Kit Smart as 
 any one else. Another charge was, that he did not love 
 clean linen; and I have no passion for it." 
 
 Johnson continued. " Mankind have a great aversion to 
 intellectual labor; but even supposing knowledge to be easily 
 attainable, more people would be content to be ignorant 
 than would take even a little trouble to acquire it." 
 
 "The morality of an action depends on the motive from 
 which we act. If I fling half a crown to a beggar with inten- 
 tion to break his head, and he picks it up and buys victuals 
 with it, the physical effect is good; but, with respect to me, 
 the action is very wrong. So, religious exercises, if not per- 
 formed with an intention to please God, avail us nothing. 
 As our Saviour says of those who perform them from other 
 motives, 'Verily they have their reward.'" 
 
 "The Christian religion has very strong evidences. It, 
 indeed, appears in some degree strange to reason; but in 
 History we have undoubted facts, against which, in reason- 
 ing a priori, we have more arguments than we have for them; 
 but then, testimony has great weight, and casts the balance. 
 I would recommend to every man whose faith is yet unset- 
 tled, Grotius, — Dr. Pearson, — and Dr. Clarke." 
 
 Talking of Garrick, he said, "He is the first man in the 
 world for sprightly conversation." 
 
 When I rose a second time, he again pressed me to stay, 
 which I did. 
 
 He told me, that he generally went abroad at four in the 
 afternoon, and seldom came home till two in the morning. 
 I took the liberty to ask if he did not think it wrong to live 
 thus, and not make more use of his great talents. He owned 
 it was a bad habit. On reviewing at the distance of many 
 years my journal of this period, I wonder how, at my first 
 visit, I ventured to talk to him so freely, and that he bore it 
 with so much indulgence. 
 
72 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 Before we parted, he was so good as to promise to favor 
 me with his company one evening at my lodgings: and, as I 
 took my leave, shook me cordially by the hand. It is almost 
 needless to add, that I felt no little elation at having now so 
 happily established an acquaintance of which I had been so 
 long ambitious. 
 
 My readers will, I trust, excuse me for being thus minutely 
 circumstantial, when it is considered that the acquaintance 
 of Dr. Johnson was to me a most valuable acquisition, and 
 laid the foundation of whatever instruction and entertain- 
 ment they may receive from my collections concerning the 
 great subject of the work which they are now perusing. 
 
 I did not visit him again till Monday, June 13, at which 
 time I recollect no part of his conversation, except that when 
 I told him I had been to see Johnson ride upon three horses, 
 he said, "Such a man, Sir, should be encouraged; for his 
 performances show the extent of the human powers in one 
 instance, and thus tend to raise our opinion of the faculties 
 of man. He shows what may be attained by persevering 
 application; so that every man may hope, that by giving as 
 much application, although perhaps he may never ride three 
 horses at a time, or dance upon a wire, yet he may be equally 
 expert in whatever profession he has chosen to pursue." 
 
 He again shook me by the hand at parting, and asked me 
 why I did not come oftener to him. Trusting that I was 
 now in his good graces, I answered, that he had not given 
 me much encouragement, and reminded him of the check I 
 had received from him at our first interview. "Poh, poh! 
 (said he, with a complacent smile,) never mind these things. 
 Come to me as often as you can. I shall be glad to see you." 
 
 Our next meeting was not till Saturday, June 25, when 
 happening to dine at Clifton's eating-house, in Butcher-row, I 
 was surprised to perceive Johnson come in and take his seat at 
 another table. Johnson had not observed that I was in the 
 room. I followed him, however, and he agreed to meet me 
 in the evening at the Mitre. I called on him, and we went 
 thither at nine. We had a good supper, and port wine, of 
 which he then sometimes drank a bottle. The orthodox 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 73 
 
 high-church sound of the Mitre, — the figure and manner 
 of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, — the extraordinary power 
 and precision of his conversation, and the pride arising from 
 finding myself admitted as his companion, produced a variety 
 of sensations, and a pleasing elevation of mind beyond what 
 I had ever before experienced. I find in my Journal the 
 following minute of our conversation, which, though it will 
 give but a very faint notion of what passed, is, in some degree, 
 a valuable record; and it will be curious in this view, as show- 
 ing how habitual to his mind were some opinions which appear 
 in his works. 
 
 "Colley Gibber, Sir, was by no means a blockhead; but by 
 arrogating to himself too much, he was in danger of losing 
 that degree of estimation to which he was entitled. His 
 friends gave out that he intended his Birthday Odes should 
 be bad: but that was not the case, Sir; for he kept them 
 many months by him, and a few years before he died he 
 showed me one of them, with great solicitude to render it 
 as perfect as might be, and I made some corrections, to 
 which he was not very willing to submit. I remember the 
 following couplet in allusion to the King and himself: 
 
 'Perch'd on the eagle's soaring wing, 
 The lowly linnet loves to sing. ' 
 
 Sir, he had heard something of the fabulous tale of the wren 
 sitting upon the eagle's wing, and he had applied it to a linnet. 
 Cibber's familiar style, however, was better than that which 
 Whitehead has assumed. Grand nonsense is insupportable. 
 Whitehead is but a little man to inscribe verses to players/' 
 
 I did not presume to controvert this censure, which was 
 tinctured with his prejudice against players, but I could not 
 help thinking that a dramatic poet might with propriety pay 
 a compliment to an eminent performer, as Whitehead has 
 very happily done in his verses to Mr. Garrick. 
 
 "Sir, I do not think Gray a first-rate poet. He has not a 
 bold imagination, nor much command of words. The ob- 
 scurity in which he has involved himself will not persuade us 
 that he is sublime. His Elegy in a Church-yard has a happy 
 
74 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 selection of images, but I don't like what are called his great 
 things." 
 
 I mentioned Mallet's tragedy of Elvira, which had been 
 acted the preceding winter at Drury-lane, and that the 
 Honorable Andrew Erskine, Mr. Dempster, and myself, had 
 joined in writing a pamphlet, entitled Critical Strictures 
 against it. That the mildness of Dempster's disposition had, 
 however, relented; and he had candidly said, "We have hardly 
 a right to abuse this tragedy; for bad as it is, how vain 
 should either of us be to write one not near so good." John- 
 son. "Why no, Sir; this is not just reasoning. You may 
 abuse a tragedy, though you cannot write one. You may 
 scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you 
 cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables." 
 
 As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in this 
 narrative, I shall endeavor to make my readers in some degree 
 acquainted with his singular character. He was a native of 
 Ireland, and a contemporary with Mr. Burke, at Trinity 
 College, Dublin, but did not then give much promise of future 
 celebrity. He, however, observed to Mr. Malone, that ' ' though 
 he made no great figure in mathematics, which was a study 
 in much repute there, he could turn an Ode of Horace into 
 English better than any of them." He afterwards studied 
 physic at Edinburgh, and upon the Continent: and I have 
 been informed, was enabled to pursue his travels on foot, 
 partly by demanding at Universities to enter the lists as a 
 disputant, by which, according to the custom of many of 
 them, he was entitled to the premium of a crown, when 
 luckily for him his challenge was not accepted; so that, as I 
 once observed to Dr. Johnson, he disputed his passage through 
 Europe. He then came to England, and was employed suc- 
 cessively in the capacities of an usher to an academy, a cor- 
 rector of the press, a reviewer, and a writer for a newspaper. 
 He had sagacity enough to cultivate assiduously the acquaint- 
 ance of Johnson, and his faculties were gradually enlarged 
 by the contemplation of such a model. To me and many 
 others it appeared that he studiously copied the manner of 
 Johnson, though, indeed, upon a smaller scale. 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 75 
 
 At this time I think he had published nothing with his 
 name, though it was pretty generally known that one Dr. 
 Goldsmith was the author of An Enquiry into the Present 
 State of Polite Learning in Europe, and of The Citizen of the 
 World, a series of letters supposed to be written from London 
 by a Chinese. No man had the art of displaying with more 
 advantage as a writer whatever literary acquisitions he made. 
 Nihil quod tetigit non ornavit. 1 His mind resembled a fertile, 
 but thin soil. There was a quick, but not a strong vegeta- 
 tion, of whatever chanced to be thrown upon it. No deep 
 root could be struck. The oak of the forest did not grow 
 there : but the elegant shrubbery and the fragrant parterre ap- 
 peared in gay succession. It has been generally circulated and 
 believed that he was a mere fool in conversation; but, in truth, 
 this has been greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt, a 
 more than common share of that hurry of ideas which we 
 often find in his countrymen, and which sometimes produces 
 a laughable confusion in expressing them. He was very 
 much what the French call un etourdi, 2 and from vanity and 
 an eager desire of being conspicuous wherever he was, he 
 frequently talked carelessly without knowledge of the sub- 
 ject, or even without thought. His person was short, his 
 countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a 
 scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. Those 
 who were in any way distinguished excited envy in him to so 
 ridiculous an excess, that the instances of it are hardly cred- 
 ible. When accompanying two beautiful young ladies with 
 their mother on a tour in France, he was seriously angry 
 that more attention was paid to them than to him; and 
 once at the exhibition of the Fantoccini 3 in London, when 
 those who sat next him observed with what dexterity a pup- 
 pet was made to toss a pike, he could not bear that it should 
 have such praise, and exclaimed with some warmth, " Pshaw! 
 I can do it better myself " 
 
 He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort, so that 
 
 1 There was nothing which he touched that he did not adorn. 
 
 2 A light-headed person. 
 
 3 Marionettes, puppets. 
 
76 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 his conduct must not be strictly scrutinized; but his affections 
 were social and generous, and when he had money he gave it 
 away very liberally. His desire of imaginary consequence 
 predominated over his attention to truth. When he began 
 to rise into notice, he said he had a brother who was Dean of 
 Durham, a fiction so easily detected, that it is wonderful how 
 he should have been so inconsiderate as to hazard it. He 
 boasted to me at this time of the power of his pen in com- 
 manding money, which I believe was true in a certain degree, 
 though in the instance he gave he was by no means correct. 
 He told me that he had sold a novel for four hundred pounds. 
 This was his Vicar of Wakefield. But Johnson informed me, 
 that he had made the bargain for Goldsmith, and the price 
 was sixty pounds. " And, Sir, (said he,) a sufficient price too, 
 when it was sold; for then the fame of Goldsmith had not 
 been elevated, as it afterwards was, by his Traveller: and the 
 bookseller had such faint hopes of profit by his bargain, that 
 he kept the manuscript by him a long time, and did not 
 publish it till after The Traveller had appeared. Then, to be 
 sure, it was accidentally worth more money." 
 
 Mrs. Piozzi and Sir John Hawkins have strangely mis- 
 stated the history of Goldsmith's situation and Johnson's 
 friendly interference, when this novel was sold. I shall give 
 it authentically from Johnson's own exact narration. 
 
 "I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith 
 that he was in great distress, and as it was not in his power to 
 come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as 
 possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him 
 directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and 
 found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at 
 which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had 
 already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira 
 and a glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, de- 
 sired he would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means 
 by which he might be extricated. He then told me that he 
 had a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. I 
 looked into it, and saw its merit; told the landlady I should 
 soon return, and having gone to a bookseller, sold it for 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 77 
 
 sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he dis- 
 charged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high 
 tone for having used him so ill." 
 
 I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre tavern, Dr. 
 Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies, Mr. Eccles, 
 an Irish gentleman, for whose agreeable company I was 
 obliged to Mr. Davies, and the Reverend Mr. John Ogilvie, 
 who was desirous of being in company with my illustrious 
 friend, while I, in my turn, was proud to have the honor of 
 showing one of my countrymen upon what easy terms John- 
 son permitted me to live with him. 
 
 Mr. Ogilvie was unlucky enough to choose for the topic 
 of his conversation the praises of his native country. He 
 began* with saying, that there was very rich land around 
 Edinburgh. Goldsmith, who had studied physic there, con- 
 tradicted this, very untruly, with a sneering laugh. Discon- 
 certed a little by this, Mr. Ogilvie then took a new ground, 
 where, I suppose, he thought himself perfectly safe; for he 
 observed, that Scotland had a great many noble wild pros- 
 pects. Johnson. "I believe, Sir, you have a great many. 
 Norway, too, has noble wild prospects; and Lapland is re- 
 markable for prodigious noble wild prospects. But, Sir, 
 let me tell you, the noblest prospect which a Scotchman ever 
 sees, is the high road that leads him to England!" This un- 
 expected and pointed sally produced a roar of applause. 
 After all, however, those who admire the rude grandeur of 
 Nature cannot deny it to Caledonia. 
 
 On Saturday, July 9, I found Johnson surrounded with a 
 numerous levee, but have not preserved any part of his con- 
 versation. On the 14th we had another evening by ourselves 
 at the Mitre. It happening to be a very rainy night, I made 
 some common-place observations on the relaxation of nerves 
 and depression of spirits which such weather occasioned; 
 adding, however, that it was good for the vegetable creation. 
 Johnson, who, as we have already seen, denied that the tem- 
 perature of the air had any influence on the human frame, 
 answered, with a smile of ridicule, "Why, yes, Sir, it is good 
 for vegetables, and for the animals who eat those vegetables, 
 
78 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 and for the animals who eat those animals." This observa- 
 tion of his aptly enough introduced a good supper; and I 
 soon forgot, in Johnson's company, the influence of a moist 
 atmosphere. 
 
 He enlarged very convincingly upon the excellence of 
 rhyme over blank verse in English poetry. I mentioned to 
 him that Dr. Adam Smith, in his lectures upon composition, 
 when I studied under him in the College of Glasgow, had 
 maintained the same opinion strenuously, and I repeated 
 some of his arguments. Johnson. "Sir, I was once in com- 
 pany with Smith, and we did not take to each other; but had 
 I known that he loved rhyme as much as you tell me he does, 
 I should have hugged him." 
 
 Mr. Levett this day showed me Dr. Johnson's library, 
 which was contained in two garrets over his Chambers, where 
 Lintot, son of the celebrated bookseller of that name, had 
 formerly his warehouse. I found a number of good books, 
 but very dusty and in great confusion. The floor was 
 strewed with manuscript, leaves, in Johnson's own hand- 
 writing, which I beheld with a degree of veneration, supposing 
 they perhaps might contain portions of the Rambler, or of 
 Rasselas. I observed an apparatus for chemical experiments, 
 of which Johnson was all his life very fond. The place 
 seemed to be very favorable for retirement and meditation. 
 Johnson told me, that he went up thither without mention- 
 ing it to his servant when he wanted to study, secure from 
 interruption; for he would not allow his servant to say he 
 was not at home when he really was. "A servant's strict 
 regard for truth, (said he) must be weakened by such a 
 practice. A philosopher may know that it is merely a form 
 of denial; but few servants are such nice distinguishers. If 
 I accustom a servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to 
 apprehend that he will tell many lies for himself?" I am, 
 however, satisfied, that every servant, of any degree of intelli- 
 gence, understands saying his master is not at home, not at 
 all as the affirmation of a fact, but as the customary words, 
 intimating that his master wished not to be seen; so that 
 there can be no bad effect from it. 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 79 
 
 At night, Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private room at 
 the Turk's Head coffee-house, in the Strand. "I encourage 
 this house (said he,) for the mistress of it is a good civil woman, 
 and has not much business." 
 
 "Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people; because, in 
 the first place, I don't like to think myself growing old. In 
 the next place, young acquaintances must last longest, if 
 they do last; and then, Sir, young men have more virtue than 
 old men; they have more generous sentiments in every re- 
 spect. I love the young dogs of this age, they have more 
 wit and humor and knowledge of life than we had; but then 
 the dogs are not so good scholars. Sir, in my early years I 
 read very hard. It is a sad reflection but a true one, that I 
 knew almost as much at eighteen as I do now. My judgment, 
 to be sure, was not so good, but I had all the facts. I remem- 
 ber very well, when I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said 
 to me, ' Young man, ply your book diligently now, and 
 acquire a stock of knowledge; for when years come upon 
 you, you will find that poring upon books will be but an 
 irksome task/" 
 
 I spoke of Sir James Macdonald as a 3 r oung man of most 
 distinguished merit, who united the highest reputation at 
 Eton and Oxford, with the patriarchal spirit of a great 
 Highland Chieftain. I mentioned that Sir James had said 
 to me, that he had never seen Mr. Johnson, but he had a 
 great respect for him, though at the same time it was mixed 
 with some degree of terror. Johnson. "Sir, if he were to 
 be acquainted with me, it might lessen both." 
 
 The mention of this gentleman led us to talk of the West- 
 ern Islands of Scotland, to visit which he expressed a wish 
 that then appeared to be a very romantic fancy, which I 
 little thought would be afterwards realized. He told me, 
 that his father had put Martin's account of those islands into 
 his hands when he was very young, and that he was highly 
 pleased with it; that he was particularly struck with the 
 St. Kilda man's notion that the high church of Glasgow had 
 been hollowed out of a rock; a circumstance to which old 
 Mr. Johnson had directed his attention. He said, he would 
 
80 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 go to the Hebrides with me, when I returned from rny travels, 
 unless some very good companion should offer when I was 
 absent, which he did not think probable; adding, " There 
 are few people whom I take so much to, as you." And when 
 I talked of my leaving England, he said with a very affec- 
 tionate air, "My dear Boswell, I should be very unhappy at 
 parting, did I think we were not to meet again." — I cannot 
 too often remind my readers that although such instances of 
 his kindness are doubtless very flattering to me, yet I hope 
 my recording them will be ascribed to a better motive than 
 to vanity; for they afford unquestionable evidence of his 
 tenderness and complacency, which some, while they were 
 forced to acknowledge his great powers, have been so strenu- 
 ous to deny. 
 
 He maintained that a boy at school was the happiest of 
 human beings. I supported a different opinion, from which 
 I have never yet varied, that a man is happier: and I enlarged 
 upon the anxiety and sufferings which are endured at school. 
 Johnson. "Ah! Sir, a boy's being flogged is not so severe 
 as a man's having the hiss of the world against him. Men 
 have a solicitude about fame; and the greater share they 
 have of it, the more afraid they are of losing it." I silently 
 asked myself, "Is it possible that the great Samuel Johnson 
 really entertains any such apprehension, and is not confident 
 that his exalted fame is established upon a foundation never 
 to be shaken?" 
 
 On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private at the 
 Turk's Head coffee-house. Johnson. "Swift has a higher 
 reputation than he deserves. His excellence is strong 
 sense, for his humor, though very well, is not remarkably 
 good. 
 
 "Thomson, I think, had as much of the poet about him as 
 most writers. Everything appeared to him through the 
 medium of his favorite pursuit. He could not have viewed 
 those two candles burning but with a poetical eye." 
 
 "Has not — a great deal of wit, Sir?" Johnson. "I do 
 not think so, Sir. He is, indeed, continually attempting wit, 
 but he fails. And I have no more pleasure in hearing a man 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 81 
 
 attempting wit and failing, than in seeing a man trying to 
 leap over a diteh and tumbling into it." 
 
 He laughed heartily when I mentioned to him a saying of 
 his concerning Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which Foote took a 
 wicked pleasure to circulate. "Why, Sir, Sherry is dull, 
 naturally dull; but it must have taken him a great deal of 
 pains to become what we now see him. Such an excess of 
 stupidity, Sir, is not in Nature." — "So (said he,) I allowed 
 him all his own merit." 
 
 He now added, "Sheridan cannot bear me. I bring his 
 declamation to a point. I ask him a plain question, 'What 
 do you mean to teach?' Besides, Sir, what influence can 
 Mr. Sheridan have upon the language of this great country, 
 by his narrow exertions? Sir, it is burning a farthing candle 
 at Dover, to show light at Calais." 
 
 On Saturday, July 30, Dr. Johnson and I took a sculler at 
 the Temple stairs, and set out for Greenwich. I asked him 
 if he really thought a knowledge of the Greek and Latin 
 languages an essential requisite to a good education. John- 
 son. "Most certainly, Sir; for those who know them have 
 a very great advantage over those who do not. Nay, Sir, 
 it is wonderful what a difference learning makes upon people 
 even in the common intercourse of life, which does not 
 appear to be much connected with it." "And yet, (said I) 
 people go through the world very well, and carry on the 
 business of life to good advantage, without learning." John- 
 son. "Why, Sir, that may be true in cases where learning 
 cannot possibly be of any use; for instance, this boy rows 
 us as well without learning, as if he could sing the song of 
 Orpheus to the Argonauts, who were the first sailors." He 
 then called to the boy. "What would you give, my lad, to 
 know about the Argonauts?" "Sir, (said the boy) I would 
 give what I have." Johnson was much pleased with his 
 answer, and we gave him a double fare. Dr. Johnson then 
 turning to me, "Sir, (said he) a desire of knowledge is the 
 natural feeling of mankind; and every human being, whose 
 mind is not debauched, will be willing to give all that he has, 
 to get knowledge." 
 
82 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 Wc landed at the Old Swan, and walked to Billingsgate, 
 where we took oars and moved smoothly along the silver 
 Thames. It was a very fine day. We were entertained with 
 the immense number and variety of ships that were lying at 
 anchor, and with the beautiful country on each side of the 
 river. 
 
 1 talked of preaching, and of the great success which those 
 called Methodists have. Johnson. "Sir, it is owing to their 
 expressing themselves in a plain and familiar manner, which 
 is the only way to do good to the common people, and which 
 clergymen of genius and learning ought to do from a prin- 
 ciple of duty, when it is suited to their congregation; a prac- 
 tice, for which they will be praised by men of sense. To in- 
 sist against drunkenness as a crime, because it debases 
 reason, the noblest faculty of man, would be of no service to 
 the common people; but to tell them that they may die in 
 a fit of drunkenness, and show them how dreadful that would 
 be, cannot fail to make a deep impression. Sir, when your 
 Scotch clergy give up their homely manner, religion will soon 
 decay in that country." Let this observation, as Johnson 
 meant it, be ever remembered. 
 
 I was much pleased to find myself with Johnson at Green- 
 wich, which he celebrates in his London as a favorite scene. 
 I had the poem in my pocket, and read the lines aloud with 
 enthusiasm : 
 
 "On Thames's banks in silent thought we stood, 
 Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood: 
 Pleas'd with the seat which gave Eliza birth, 
 We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth." 
 
 He remarked that the structure of Greenwich hospital was 
 too magnificent for a place of charity, and that its parts 
 were too much detached, to make one great whole. 
 
 We walked in the evening in Greenwich Park. He asked 
 me, I suppose, by the way of trying my disposition, "Is not 
 this very fine?" Having no exquisite relish of the beauties 
 of Nature, and being more delighted with "the busy hum of 
 men," I answered, "Yes, Sir; but not equal to Fleet-street/ ' 
 Johnson. "You are right, Sir." 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 83 
 
 I am aware that many of my readers may censure my want 
 of taste. Let me, however, shelter myself under the au- 
 thority of a very fashionable Baronet in the brilliant world, 
 who, on his attention being called to the fragrance of a May 
 evening in the country, observed, "This may be very well; 
 but for my part, I prefer the smell of a flambeau at the play- 
 house." 
 
 We stayed so long at Greenwich, that our sail up the river, 
 in our return to London, was by no means so pleasant as in 
 the morning; for the night air was so cold that it made me 
 shiver. I was the more sensible of it from having sat up all 
 the night before recollecting and writing in my Journal what 
 I thought worthy of preservation; an exertion, which, during 
 the first part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I frequently 
 made. I remember having sat up four nights in one week, 
 without being much incommoded in the day time. 
 
 Johnson, whose robust frame was not in the least affected 
 by the cold, scolded me, as if my shivering had been a paltry 
 effeminacy, saying, "Why do you shiver?" Sir William 
 Scott, of the Commons, told me, that when he complained 
 of a headache in the post-chaise, as they were travelling to- 
 gether to Scotland, Johnson treated him in the same manner : 
 "At your age, Sir, I had no headache." It is not easy to 
 make allowance for sensations in others, which we ourselves 
 have not at the time. We must all have experienced how 
 very differently we are affected by the complaints of our 
 neighbors, when we are well and when we are ill. In full 
 health, we can scarcely believe that they suffer much; so 
 faint is the image of pain upon our imagination; when 
 softened by sickness, we readily sympathize with the suffer- 
 ings of others. 
 
 After we had again talked of my setting out for Holland, 
 he said, "I must see thee out of England; I will accompany 
 you to Harwich." I could not find words to express what I 
 felt upon this unexpected and very great mark of his affec- 
 tionate regard. 
 
 Next day, Sunday July 31, I told him I had been that 
 morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers, where I 
 
84 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 had heard a woman preach. Johnson. "Sir, a woman's 
 preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not 
 done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all." 
 
 On Tuesday, August 2, (the day of my departure from 
 London having been fixed for the 5th,) Dr. Johnson did me 
 the honor to pass a part of the morning with me at my 
 Chambers. He said, that "he always felt an inclination to 
 do nothing." I observed, that it was strange to think that 
 the most indolent man in Britain had written the most 
 laborious work, The English Dictionary. 
 
 After tea he carried me to what he called his walk, which 
 was a long narrow paved court in the neighborhood, over- 
 shadowed by some trees. There we sauntered a consider- 
 able time; and I complained to him that my love of London 
 and of his company was such, that I shrunk almost from 
 the thought of going even to travel, which is generally so 
 much desired by young men. He roused me by manly and 
 spirited conversation. He advised me, when settled in any 
 place abroad, to study with an eagerness after knowledge, 
 and to apply to Greek an hour every day; and when I was 
 moving about, to read diligently the great book of mankind. 
 
 On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morning in the 
 Harwich stage coach. A fat elderly gentlewoman and a 
 young Dutchman seemed the most inclined among us to 
 conversation. At the inn where we dined, the gentlewoman 
 said that she had done her best to educate her children; and, 
 particularly, that she had never suffered them to be a moment 
 idle. Johnson. "I wish, Madam, you would educate me 
 too; for I have been an idle fellow all my life." "I am sure, 
 Sir, (said she) you have not been idle." Johnson. "Nay, 
 Madam, it is very true; and that gentleman there, (pointing 
 to me) has been idle. He was idle at Edinburgh. His father 
 sent him to Glasgow, where he continued to be idle. He 
 then came to London, where he has been very idle; and now 
 he is going to Utrecht, where he will be as idle as ever." I 
 asked him privately how he could expose me so. Johnson. 
 "Poh, poh! (said he) they knew nothing about you, and 
 will think of it no more." Though by no means niggardly, 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 85 
 
 his attention to what was generally right was so minute, that 
 having observed at one of the stages that I ostentatiously 
 gave a shilling to the coachman, when the custom was for 
 each passenger to give only sixpence, he took me aside and 
 scolded me, saying that what I had done would make the 
 coachman dissatisfied with all the rest of the passengers who 
 gave him no more than his due. This was a just reprimand; 
 for in whatever way a man may indulge his generosity or his 
 vanity in spending his money, for the sake of others, he 
 ought not to raise the price of any article for which there is a 
 constant demand. 
 
 At supper this night he talked of good eating with uncom- 
 mon satisfaction. "Some people (said he,) have a foolish 
 way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they 
 eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously, and 
 very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who does not mind 
 his belly, will hardly mind anything else." He now appeared 
 to me Jean Bull philosophe, 1 and he was for the moment, not 
 only serious but vehement. Yet I have heard him, upon 
 other occasions, talk with great contempt of people who 
 were anxious to gratify their palates; and the 206th number 
 of his Rambler is a masterly essay against gulosity. His 
 practice, indeed, I must acknowledge, may be considered as 
 casting the balance of his different opinions upon this subject; 
 for I never knew any man who relished good eating more 
 than he did. When at table, he was totally absorbed in the 
 business of the moment; his looks seemed riveted to his 
 plate; nor would he, unless when in very high company, 
 say one word, or even pay the least attention to what was 
 said by others, till he had satisfied his appetite: which was 
 so fierce, and indulged with such intenseness, that while in 
 the act of eating, the veins of his forehead swelled, and 
 generally a strong perspiration was visible. To those whose 
 sensations were delicate, this could not but be disgusting; 
 and it was doubtless not very suitable to the character of a 
 philosopher, who should be distinguished by self-command. 
 But it must be owned, that Johnson, though he could be 
 1 John Bull in the role of a philosopher. 
 
86 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 
 
 rigidly abstemious, was not a temperate man either in eating 
 or drinking. He could refrain, but he could not use moder- 
 ately. He told me, that he had fasted two days without in- 
 convenience, and that he had never been hungry but once. 
 They who beheld with wonder how much he ate upon all 
 occasions, when his dinner was to his taste, could not easily 
 conceive what he must have meant by hunger; and not only 
 was he remarkable for the extraordinary quantity which he 
 ate, but he was, or affected to be, a man of very nice dis- 
 cernment in the science of cookery. He used to descant 
 critically on the dishes which had been at table where he had 
 dined or supped, and to recollect very minutely what he had 
 liked. I remember when he was in Scotland, his praising 
 Gordon's palates, (a dish of palates at the Honorable Alex- 
 ander Gordon's), with a warmth of expression which might 
 have done honor to more important subjects. "As for 
 Maclaurin's imitation of a made dish, it was a wretched at- 
 tempt." He about the same time was so much displeased 
 with the performances of a nobleman's French cook, that he 
 exclaimed with vehemence, "Fd throw such a rascal into 
 the river; " and he then proceeded to alarm a lady at whose 
 house he was to sup, by the following manifesto of his skill: 
 "I, Madam, who live at a variety of good tables, am a 
 much better judge of cookery, than any person who has a 
 very tolerable cook, but lives much at home; for his palate 
 is gradually adapted to the taste of his cook: whereas, 
 Madam, in trying by a wider range, I can more exquisitely 
 judge." When invited to dine, even with an intimate friend, 
 he was not pleased if something better than a plain dinner 
 was not prepared for him. I have heard him say on such an 
 occasion, "This was a good dinner enough, to be sure: but 
 it was not a dinner to ask a man to." On the other hand, 
 he was wont to express, with great glee, his satisfaction when 
 he had been entertained quite to his mind. One day when he 
 had dined with his neighbor and landlord, in Bolt-court, Mr. 
 Allen, the printer, whose old housekeeper had studied his taste 
 in every thing, he pronounced this eulogy: "Sir, we could not 
 have had a better dinner, had there been a Synod of Cooks." 
 
Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 87 
 
 Next day we got to Harwich, to dinner; and my passage 
 in the packet-boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my 
 baggage put on board, we dined at our inn by ourselves. I 
 happened to say, it would be terrible if he should not find a 
 speedy opportunity of returning to London, and be confined 
 in so dull a place. Johnson. "Don't, Sir, accustom yourself 
 to use big words for little matters. It would not be terrible 
 though I were to be detained some time here." The practice 
 of using words of disproportionate magnitude, is, no doubt, 
 too frequent everywhere; but, I think, most remarkable 
 among the French, of v^hich, all who have traveled in France 
 must have been struck with innumerable instances. 
 
 My revered friend walked down with me to the beach, 
 where we embraced and parted with tenderness, and engaged 
 to correspond by letters. I said, "I hope, Sir, you will not 
 forget me, in my absence." Johnson. "Nay, Sir, it is 
 more likely you should forget me, than that I should for- 
 get you." As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon 
 him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his 
 majestic frame in his usual manner; and at last I perceived 
 him walk back into the town, and he disappeared. 
 
CHAPTER VI (1764-1767) 
 
 The Founding of the Club 
 
 Founding of the Famous Club — Circumstances of Its Origin — 
 Its Chief Members — Johnson's Observance of Solemn Days — 
 — His Hypochondria — Eccentricities — Honorary Degree from 
 Trinity College, Dublin — The Friendship with the Thrales — 
 Johnson's Esteem for Henry Thrale — Value for Johnson of this 
 Connection — The Edition of Shakespeare — Return of Boswell to 
 London. 
 
 ♦ Early in 1764 Johnson paid a visit to the Langton family, 
 at their seat of Langton in Lincolnshire, where he passed some 
 time, much to his satisfaction. 
 
 Soon after his return to London, which was in February, 
 was founded that Club which existed long without a name, 
 but at Mr. Garrick's funeral became distinguished by the 
 title of The Literary Club. Sir Joshua Reynolds had the merit 
 of being the first proposer of it, to which Johnson acceded; 
 and the original members were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. 
 Johnson, Mr. Edmund Burke, Dr. Nugent, Mr. Beauclerk, 
 Mr. Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John 
 Hawkins. They met at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard-street, 
 Soho, one evening in every week, at seven, and generally con- 
 tinued their conversation till a pretty late hour. This club 
 has been gradually increased to its present number, thirty- 
 five. After about ten years, instead of supping weekly, it was 
 resolved to dine together once a fortnight during the meeting 
 of Parliament. Their original tavern having been converted 
 into a private house, they moved first to Prince's in Sackville- 
 street, then to Le Telier's in Dover-street, and now meet at 
 Parsloe's, St. James's-street. Between the time of its forma- 
 tion and the time at which this work is passing through the 
 press, (June 1792), the following persons, now dead, were 
 members of it: Mr. Dunning, (afterwards Lord Ashburton,) 
 Mr. Samuel Dyer, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shipley Bishop of St, 
 
 88 
 
Age 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 89 
 
 Asaph, Mr. Vesey, Mr. Thomas Warton, and Dr. Adam 
 Smith. The present members are Mr. Burke, Mr. Langton, 
 Lord Charlemont, Sir Robert Chambers, Dr. Percy Bishop of 
 Dromore, Dr. Barnard Bishop of Killaloe, Dr. Marlay Bishop 
 of Clonfert, Mr. Fox, Dr. George Fordyce, Sir William Scott, 
 Sir Joseph Banks, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Windham of 
 Norfolk, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Gibbon, Sir William Jones, Mr. 
 Colman, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Burney, Dr. Joseph Warton, Mr. 
 Malone, Lord Ossory, Lord Spencer, Lord Lucan, Lord Pal- 
 merston, Lord Eliot, Lord Macartney, Mr. Richard Burke, 
 junior, Sir William Hamilton, Dr. Warren, Mr. Courtenay, 
 Dr. Hinchliffe, Bishop of Peterborough, the Duke of Leeds, 
 Dr. Douglas Bishop of Salisbury, and the writer of this 
 account. 
 
 Sir John Hawkins represents himself as a seceder from this 
 society, and assigns as the reason of his withdrawing himself 
 . from it, that its late hours were inconsistent with his domestic 
 arrangements. In this he is not accurate; for the fact was, 
 that he one evening attacked Mr. Burke in so rude a manner, 
 that all the company testified their displeasure; and at their 
 next meeting his reception was such, that he never came again. 
 
 He is equally inaccurate with respect to Mr. Garrick, of 
 whom he says, "he trusted that the least intimation of a desire 
 to come among us, would procure him a ready admission; but 
 in this he was mistaken. Johnson consulted me upon it; and 
 when I could find no objection to receiving him, exclaimed, — ■ 
 'He will disturb us by his buffoonery ;' — and afterwards so 
 managed matters, that he was never formally proposed, and, 
 by consequence, never admitted." 
 
 In justice both to Mr. Garrick and Dr. Johnson, I think it 
 necessary to rectify this mis-statement. The truth is, that 
 not very long after the institution of our club, Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds was speaking of it to Garrick. "I like it much, 
 (said he,) I think I shall be of you." When Sir Joshua men- 
 tioned this to Dr. Johnson, he was much displeased with the 
 actor's conceit. "He'll be of us, (said Johnson) how does he 
 know we will permit him? The first Duke in England has no 
 right to hold such language." However, when Garrick was 
 
90 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1764 
 
 regularly proposed some time afterwards, Johnson, though 
 he had taken a momentary offence at his arrogance, warmly 
 and kindly supported him, and he was accordingly elected, 
 was a most agreeable member, and continued to attend our 
 meetings to the time of his death. 
 
 It was his custom to observe certain days with a pious 
 abstraction: viz., New Year's day, the day of his wife's 
 death, Good Friday, Easterday, and his own birthday. He 
 this year says, "I have now spent fifty-five years in resolving: 
 having, from the earliest time almost that I can remember, 
 been forming schemes of a better life. I have done nothing. 
 The need of doing, therefore, is pressing, since the time of 
 doing is short. O God, grant me to resolve aright, and to 
 keep my resolutions, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." Such 
 a tenderness of conscience, such a fervent desire of improve- 
 ment, will rarely be found. It is, surely, not decent in those 
 who are hardened in indifference to spiritual improvement, 
 to treat this pious anxiety of Johnson with contempt. 
 
 About this time he was afflicted with a very severe return 
 of the hypochondriac disorder, which was ever lurking about 
 him. He was so ill, as, notwithstanding his remarkable love 
 of company, to be entirely averse to society, the most fatal 
 symptom of that malady. Dr. Adams told me, that as an 
 old friend he was admitted to visit him, and that he found him 
 in a deplorable state, sighing, groaning, talking to himself, and 
 restlessly walking from room to room. He then used this 
 emphatical expression of the misery which he felt. "I would 
 consent to have a limb amputated to recover my spirits." 
 
 Talking to himself was, indeed, one of his singularities ever 
 since I knew him. I was certain that he was frequently 
 uttering pious ejaculations; for fragments of the Lord's 
 Prayer have been distinctly overheard. 
 
 He had another particularity, of which none of his friends 
 even ventured to ask an explanation. It appeared to me 
 some superstitious habit, which he had contracted early, and 
 from which he had never called upon his reason to disentangle 
 him. This was his anxious care to go out or in at a door or 
 passage, by a certain number of steps from a certain point, 
 
Age 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 91 
 
 or at least so as that either his right or his left foot, (I am not 
 certain which), should constantly make the first actual move- 
 ment when he came close to the door or passage. Thus I 
 conjecture: for I have, upon innumerable occasions, ob- 
 served him suddenly stop, and then seem to count his steps 
 with a deep earnestness; and when he had neglected or gone 
 wrong in this sort of magical movement, I have seen him go 
 back again, put himself in a proper posture to begin the 
 ceremony, and, having gone through it, break from his ab- 
 straction, walk briskly on, and join his companion. A 
 strange instance of something of this nature, even when on 
 horseback, happened when he was in the Isle of Skye. Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds has observed him to go a good way about, 
 rather than cross a particular alley in Leicester-fields; but 
 this Sir Joshua imputed to his having had some disagreeable 
 recollection associated with it. 
 
 That the most minute singularities which belonged to him, 
 and made very observable parts of his appearance and man- 
 ner, may not be omitted, it is requisite to mention, that while 
 talking or even musing as he sat in his chair, he commonly 
 held his head to one side towards his right shoulder, and 
 shook it in a tremulous manner, moving his body backwards 
 and forwards, and rubbing his left knee in the same direction, 
 with the palm of his hand. In the intervals of articulating 
 he made various sounds with his mouth; sometimes as if 
 ruminating, or what is called chewing the cud, sometimes 
 giving a half whistle, sometimes making his tongue play 
 backwards from the roof of his mouth, as if clucking like a 
 hen, and sometimes protruding it against his upper gums in 
 front, as if pronouncing quickly under his breath, too, too, too: 
 all this accompanied sometimes with a thoughtful look, but 
 more frequently with a smile. Generally when he had con- 
 cluded a period, in the course of a dispute, by which time he 
 was a good deal exhausted by violence and vociferation, he 
 used to blow out his breath like a whale. This I suppose was 
 a relief to his lungs ; and seemed in him to be a contemptuous 
 mode of expression, as if he had made the arguments of his 
 opponent fly like chaff before the wind. 
 
92 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765 
 
 I am fully aware how very obvious an occasion I here give 
 for the sneering jocularity of such as have no relish of an 
 exact likeness; which to render complete, he who draws it 
 must not disdain the slightest strokes. But if witlings should 
 be inclined to attack this account, let them have the candor 
 to quote what I have offered in my defence. 
 
 Trinity College, Dublin, at this time surprised Johnson with 
 a spontaneous compliment of the highest academical honors, 
 by creating him Doctor of Laws. This unsolicited mark of dis- 
 tinction, conferred on so great a literary character, did much 
 honor to the judgment and liberal spirit of that learned body. 
 
 This year was distinguished by his being introduced into 
 the family of Mr. Thrale, one of the most eminent brewers 
 in England, and Member of Parliament for the borough of 
 Southwark. Foreigners are not a little amazed, when they 
 hear of brewers, distillers, and men in similar departments of 
 trade, held forth as persons of considerable consequence. In 
 this great commercial country it is natural that a situation 
 which produces much wealth should be considered as very 
 respectable; and, no doubt, honest industry is entitled to 
 esteem. But, perhaps, the too rapid advance of men of low 
 extraction tends to lessen the value of that distinction by 
 birth and gentility, which has ever been found beneficial to 
 the grand scheme of subordination. Johnson used to give 
 this account of the rise of Mr. Thrale's father: "He worked 
 at six shillings a week for twenty years in the great brewery, 
 which afterwards was his own. The proprietor of it had an 
 only daughter, who was married to a nobleman. It was not 
 fit that a peer should continue the business. On the old man's 
 death, therefore, the brewery was to be sold. To find a pur- 
 chaser for so large a property was a difficult matter; and, 
 after some time, it was suggested, that it would be advisable 
 to treat with Thrale, a sensible, active, honest man, who had 
 been employed in the house, and to transfer the whole to him 
 for thirty thousand pounds, security being taken upon the 
 property. This was accordingly settled. In eleven years 
 Thrale paid the purchase money. He acquired a large for- 
 tune, and lived to be a Member of Parliament for Southwark. 
 
HESTER LYNCH THRALE 
 
 AFTERWARD HESTER LYNCH PIOZZI 
 
 FROM THE PORTRAIT BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 
 
Age 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 93 
 
 But what was most remarkable was the liberality with which 
 he used his riches. He gave his son and daughters the 
 best education. The esteem which his good conduct pro- 
 cured him from the nobleman who had married his master's 
 daughter, made him to be treated with much attention; and 
 his son, both at school and at the University of Oxford, asso- 
 ciated with young men of the first rank. His allowance from 
 his father, after he left college, was splendid; no less than a 
 thousand a year. This, in a man who had risen as old Thrale 
 did, was a very extraordinary instance of generosity. He 
 used to say, 'If this young dog does not find so much after I 
 am gone as he expects, let him remember that he has had a 
 great deal in my own time.' " 
 
 The son, though in affluent circumstances, had good sense 
 enough to carry on his father's trade, which was of such ex- 
 tent, that I remember he once told me, he would not quit it 
 for an annuity of ten thousand a year; "Not (said he,) that I 
 get ten thousand a year by it, but it is an estate to a family/ ' 
 Having left daughters only, the property was sold for the 
 immense sum of one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds; 
 a magnificent proof of what may be done by fair trade in no 
 long period of time. 
 
 Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hester Lynch Salusbury, of 
 good Welsh extraction, a lady of lively talents, improved by 
 education. That Johnson's introduction into Mr. Thrale's 
 family, which contributed so much to the happiness of his 
 life, was owing to her desire for his conversation, is a very 
 probable and the general supposition : but it is not the truth. 
 Mr. Murphy, who was intimate with Mr. Thrale, having 
 spoken very highly of Dr. Johnson, he was requested to make 
 them acquainted. This being mentioned to Johnson, he 
 accepted of an invitation to dinner at Thrale's, and was so 
 much pleased with his reception, both by Mr. and Mrs. 
 Thrale, and they so much pleased with him, that his invita- 
 tions to their house were more and more frequent, till at last 
 he became one of the family, and an apartment was appropri- 
 ated to him, both in their house at Southwark and in their 
 villa at Streatham. 
 
94 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765 
 
 Johnson had a very sincere esteem for Mr. Thrale, as a man 
 of excellent principles, a good scholar, well skilled in trade, 
 of a sound understanding, and of manners such as presented 
 the character of a plain independent English 'Squire. As 
 this family will frequently be mentioned in the course of the 
 following pages, and as a false notion has prevailed that 
 Mr. Thrale was inferior, and in some degree insignificant, 
 compared with Mrs. Thrale, it may be proper to give a true 
 state of the case from the authority of Johnson himself in his 
 own words. 
 
 "I know no man, (said he,) who is more master of his wife 
 and family than Thrale. If he but holds up a finger, he is 
 obeyed. It is a great mistake to suppose that she is above 
 him in literary attainments. She is more flippant; but he 
 has ten times her learning: he is a regular scholar; but her 
 learning is that of a school-boy in one of the lower forms." 
 My readers may naturally wish for some representation of 
 the figures of this couple. Mr. Thrale was tall, well pro- 
 portioned, and stately. As for Madam, or my Mistress, by 
 which epithets Johnson used to mention Mrs. Thrale, she was 
 short, plump, and brisk. She has herself given us a lively 
 view of the idea which Johnson had of her person, on her 
 appearing before him in a dark-colored gown: "You little 
 creatures should never wear those sort of clothes, however; 
 they are unsuitable in every way. What! have not all in- 
 sects gay colors?" Mr. Thrale gave his wife a liberal in- 
 dulgence, both in the choice of their company, and in the 
 mode of entertaining them. He understood and valued 
 Johnson, without remission, from their first acquaintance to 
 the day of his death. Mrs. Thrale was enchanted with 
 Johnson's conversation for its own sake, and had also a very 
 allowable vanity in appearing to be honored with the atten- 
 tion of so celebrated a man. 
 
 Nothing could be more fortunate for Johnson than this 
 connection. He had at Mr. Thrale 's all the comforts and 
 even luxuries of life: his melancholy was diverted, and his 
 irregular habits lessened by association with an agreeable and 
 well-ordered family. He was treated with the utmost respect, 
 
Age 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 95 
 
 and even affection. The vivacity of Mrs. Thrale's literary 
 talk roused him to cheerfulness and exertion, even when they 
 were alone. But this was not often the case; for he found 
 here a constant succession of what gave him the highest 
 enjoyment, the society of the learned, the witty, and the 
 eminent in every way; who were assembled in numerous 
 companies; called forth his wonderful powers, and gratified 
 him with admiration, to which no man could be insensible. 
 
 In the October of this year he at length gave to the world 
 his edition of Shakespeare, which, if it had no other merit 
 but that of producing his Preface, in which the excellencies 
 and defects of that immortal bard are displayed with a 
 masterly hand, the nation would have had no reason to 
 complain. A blind indiscriminate admiration of Shakespeare 
 had exposed the British nation to the ridicule of foreigners. 
 Johnson, by candidly admitting the faults of his poet, had the 
 more credit in bestowing on him deserved and indisputable 
 praise, and doubtless none of all his panegyrists have done 
 him half so much honor. Their praise was like that of a 
 counsel, upon his own side of the cause; Johnson's was like 
 the grave, well considered, and impartial opinion of the judge, 
 which falls from his lips with weight, and is received with 
 reverence. What he did as a commentator has no small share 
 of merit, though his researches were not so ample, and his 
 investigations so acute as they might have been; which we 
 now certainly know from the labors of other able and ingenious 
 critics who have followed him. He has enriched his edition 
 with a concise account of each play, and of its characteristic 
 excellence. Many of his notes have illustrated obscurities 
 in the text, and placed passages eminent for beauty in a more 
 conspicuous light; and he has, in general, exhibited such a 
 mode of annotation, as may be beneficial to all subsequent 
 editors. 
 
 I returned to London in February, and found Dr. Johnson 
 in a good house in Johnson's court, Fleet-street, in which he 
 had accommodated Miss Williams with an apartment on the 
 ground floor, while Mr. Levett occupied his post in the garret: 
 his faithful Francis was still attending upon him. He re- 
 
96 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766 
 
 ceived me with much kindness. The fragments of our first 
 conversation, which I have preserved, are these: I told him 
 that Voltaire, in a conversation with me, had distinguished 
 Pope and Dryden thus: — "Pope drives a handsome chariot, 
 with a couple of neat trim nags; Dryden a coach, and six 
 stately horses." Johnson. "Why, Sir, the truth is, they 
 both drive coaches and six; but Dryden's horses are either 
 galloping or stumbling: Pope's go at a steady even trot." 
 He said of Goldsmith's Traveller, which had been published 
 in my absence, "There has not been so fine a poem since 
 Pope's time." 
 
 " To Bennet Langton, Esq. At Langton, Near Spilsby, 
 Lincolnshire. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "What your friends have done, that from your departure 
 till now nothing has been heard of you, none of us are able to 
 inform the rest; but as we are all neglected alike, no one 
 thinks himself entitled to the privilege of complaint. 
 
 "I should have known nothing of you or of Langton, from 
 the time that dear Miss Langton left us, had not I met Mr. 
 Simpson, of Lincoln, one day in the street, by whom I was 
 informed that Mr. Langton, your Mamma, and yourself, had 
 been all ill, but that you were all recovered. 
 
 "That sickness should suspend your correspondence, I did 
 not wonder; but hoped that it would be renewed at your 
 recovery. 
 
 "Since you will not inform us where you are, or how you 
 live, I know not whether you desire to know anything of us. 
 However, I will tell you that The Club subsists; but we have 
 the loss of Burke's company since he has been engaged in 
 public business, in which he has gained more reputation than 
 perhaps any man at his first appearance ever gained before. 
 He made two speeches in the House for repealing the Stamp 
 Act, which were publicly commended by Mr. Pitt, and have 
 filled the town with wonder. 
 
 "Burke is a great man by nature, and is expected soon to 
 attain civil greatness. I am grown greater too, for I have 
 
Age 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 97 
 
 maintained the newspapers these many weeks; and what is 
 greater still, I have risen every morning since New Year's day, 
 at about eight; when I was up, I have indeed done but little; 
 yet it is no slight advancement to obtain for so many hours 
 more the consciousness of being. 
 
 "I wish you were in my new study; I am now writing my 
 first letter in it. I think it looks very pretty about me. 
 
 "Dyer is constant at the Club; Hawkins is remiss; I am 
 not over diligent. Dr. Nugent, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr. 
 Reynolds are very constant. Mr. Lye is printing his Saxon 
 and Gothic Dictionary: all The Club subscribes. 
 
 "You will pay my respects to all my Lincolnshire friends. 
 
 "I am, dear Sir, 
 "Most affectionately yours, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 11 March 9, 1766. 
 " Johnson's-court, Fleet-street." 
 
CHAPTER VII (1767-1771) 
 Johnson Converses with High and Low 
 
 Johnson in the Royal Library — The Meeting with the King — 
 Johnson on the University Libraries — On His Own Writing and 
 Reading — On Lord Lyttelton's History — On Aaron Hill — On 
 Literary Reviews — Johnson Reports the Interview for His Friends 
 — Johnson at the Mitre — On Life in London — On Scotland — 
 On Pope — On Sympathy — On Medicated Baths — On the Subject 
 of Death — Boswell Provokes Johnson — He Apologizes — Dr. 
 Maxwell's Recollections of Johnson's Mode of Life and General 
 Habits. 
 
 In February, 1767, there happened one of the most re- 
 markable incidents of Johnson's life, which gratified his 
 monarchical enthusiasm, and which he loved to relate with 
 all its circumstances, when requested by his friends. This 
 was his being honored by a private conversation with his 
 Majesty, in the library at the Queen's house. He had fre- 
 quently visited those splendid rooms and noble collection 
 of books, which he used to say was more numerous and 
 curious than he supposed any person could have made in 
 the time which the King had employed. Mr. Barnard, 
 the librarian, took care that he should have every accommo- 
 dation that could contribute to his ease and convenience, 
 while indulging his literary taste in that place: so that he 
 had here a very agreeable resource at leisure hours. 
 
 His Majesty having been informed of his occasional visits, 
 was pleased to signify a desire that he should be told when 
 Dr. Johnson came next to the library. Accordingly, the 
 next time that Johnson did come, as soon as he was fairly 
 engaged with a book, on which, while he sat by the fire, he 
 seemed quite intent, Mr. Barnard stole around to the apart- 
 ment where the King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's 
 commands, mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the 
 library. His Majesty said he was at leisure, and would go 
 
 98 
 
Age 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 99 
 
 to him: upon which Mr. Barnard took one of the candles 
 that stood on the King's table, and lighted his Majesty 
 through a suite of rooms, till they came to a private door 
 into the library, of which his Majesty had the key. Being 
 entered, Mr. Barnard stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, 
 who was still in a profound study, and whispered him, "Sir, 
 here is the King." Johnson started up, and stood still. 
 His Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously 
 easy. 
 
 His Majesty began by observing, that he understood he 
 came sometimes to the library; and then mentioning his 
 having heard that the Doctor had been lately at Oxford, 
 asked him if he was not fond of going thither. To which 
 Johnson answered, that he was indeed fond of going to Oxford 
 sometimes, but was likewise glad to come back again. The 
 King then asked him what they were doing at Oxford. John- 
 son answered he could not much commend their diligence, 
 but that in some respects they were mended, for they had 
 put their press under better regulations, and were at that 
 time printing Polybius. He was then asked whether there 
 were better libraries at Oxford or Cambridge. He answered, 
 he believed the Bodleian was larger than any they had at 
 Cambridge; at the same time adding "I hope, whether we 
 have more books or not than they have at Cambridge, we 
 shall make as good use of them as they do." Being asked 
 whether All-Souls or Christ-Church library was the largest, 
 he answered, " All-Souls library is the largest we have, except 
 the Bodleian." "Ay, (said the King.) that is the public 
 library." 
 
 His Majesty enquired if he was then writing anything. 
 He answered, he was not, for he had pretty well told the 
 world what he knew, and must now read to acquire more 
 knowledge. The King, as it should seem with a view to urge 
 him to rely on his own stores as an original writer, and to 
 continue his labors, then said "I do not think you borrow 
 much from anybody." Johnson said, he thought he had 
 already done his part as a writer. "I should have thought 
 so too, (said the King,) if you had not written so well." — 
 
100 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767 
 
 Johnson observed to me, upon this that "No man could 
 have paid a handsomer compliment; and it was fit for a 
 King to pay. It was decisive." When asked by another 
 friend, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, whether he made any reply 
 to this high compliment, he answered, "No, Sir. When the 
 King had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy 
 civilities with my Sovereign." Perhaps no man who had 
 spent his whole life in courts could have shown a more nice 
 and dignified sense of true politeness than Johnson did in 
 this instance. 
 
 His Majesty having observed to him that he supposed he 
 must have read a great deal; Johnson answered, that he 
 thought more than he read; that he had read a great deal 
 in the early part of his life, but having fallen into ill health, 
 he had not been able to read much, compared with others: 
 for instance, he said he had not read much, compared with 
 Dr. Warburton. Upon which the King said, that he heard 
 Dr. Warburton was a man of such general knowledge, that 
 you could scarce talk with him on any subject on which he 
 was not qualified to speak; and that his learning resembled 
 Garrick's acting, in its universality. His Majesty then 
 talked of the controversy between Warburton and Lowth, 
 which he seemed to have read, and asked Johnson what he 
 thought of it. Johnson answered "Warburton has most 
 general, most scholastic learning: Lowth is the more correct 
 scholar. I do not know which of them calls names best." 
 The King was pleased to say he was of the same opinion; 
 adding, "You do not think, then, Dr. Johnson, that there 
 was much argument to the case." Johnson, said, he did 
 not think there was. "Why, truly, (said the King,) when 
 once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty well at 
 an end." 
 
 His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord 
 Lyttelton's history, which was then just published. John- 
 son said, he thought his style pretty good, but that he had 
 blamed Henry the Second rather too much. "Why, (said 
 the King,) they seldom do these things by halves." "No, 
 Sir, (answered Johnson), not to Kings." But fearing to be 
 
Age 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 101 
 
 misunderstood, he proceeded to explain himself; and imme- 
 diately subjoined, "That for those who spoke worse of Kings 
 than they deserved, he could find no excuse, but that he 
 could more easily conceive how some might speak better of 
 them than they deserved, without any ill intention; for, as 
 Kings had much in their power to give, those who were favored 
 by them would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their 
 praises: and as this proceeded from a good motive, it was 
 certainly excusable, as far as error could be excusable." 
 
 The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill. 
 Johnson answered, that he was an ingenious man, but had 
 no veracity; and immediately mentioned, as an instance of 
 it, an assertion of that writer, that he had seen objects mag- 
 nified to a much greater degree by using three or four micro- 
 scopes at a time than by using one. "Now, (added Johnson,) 
 every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the more 
 of them he looks through, the less the object will appear." 
 "Why, (replied the King,) this is not only telling an untruth, 
 but telling it clumsily; for, if that be the case, every one 
 who can look through a microscope will be able to detect 
 him." 
 
 "I now, (said Johnson to his friends, when relating what 
 had passed,) began to consider that I was depreciating this 
 man in the estimation of his Sovereign, and thought it was 
 time for me to say something that might be more favourable." 
 He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was, notwithstanding, a 
 very curious observer; and if he would have been contented 
 to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been 
 a very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse 
 to such mean expedients to raise his reputation. 
 
 The King then talked of literary journals, mentioned par- 
 ticularly the Journal des Savans, and asked Johnson if it was 
 well done. Johnson said, it was formerly very well done, 
 and gave some account of the persons who began it, and 
 carried it on for some years : enlarging at the same time, on 
 the nature and use of such works. The King asked him 
 if it was well done now. Johnson answered, he had no 
 reason to think that it was. The King then asked him if 
 
102 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767 
 
 there were any other literary journals published in this 
 kingdom, except the Monthly and Critical Reviews; and on 
 being answered there was no other, his Majesty asked which 
 of them was the best: Johnson answered, that the Monthly 
 Review was done with most care, the Critical upon the best 
 principles; adding that the authors of the Monthly Review 
 were enemies to the Church. This the King said he was sorry 
 to hear. 
 
 The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Trans- 
 actions, when Johnson observed that they had now a better 
 method of arranging their materials than formerly. "Ay, 
 (said the King,) they are obliged to Dr. Johnson for that;" 
 for his Majesty had heard and remembered the circumstance, 
 which Johnson himself had forgot. 
 
 His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biog- 
 raphy of this country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. 
 Johnson to undertake it. Johnson signified his readiness 
 to comply with his Majesty's wishes. 
 
 During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked to his 
 Majesty with profound respect, but still in his firm manly 
 manner, with a sonorous voice, and never in that subdued 
 tone which is commonly used at the levee and in the drawing 
 room. After the King withdrew, Johnson showed himself 
 highly pleased with his Majesty's conversation, and gracious 
 behavior. He said to Mr. Barnard, "Sir, they may talk of 
 the King as they will; but he is the finest gentleman I have 
 ever seen." And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, 
 "Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman as we may 
 suppose Lewis the Fourteenth or Charles the Second." 
 
 At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of Johnson's 
 friends was collected round him to hear his account of this 
 memorable conversation, Dr. Joseph Warton, in his frank 
 and lively manner, was very active in pressing him to mention 
 the particulars. "Come now, Sir, this is an interesting 
 matter; do favor us with it." Johnson, with great good 
 humor, complied. 
 
 He told them, "I found his Majesty wished I should talk, 
 and I made it my business to talk. I find it does a man good 
 
Age 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 103 
 
 to be talked to by his sovereign. In the first place, a man 
 cannot be in a passion — " Here some question interrupted 
 him, which is to be regretted, as he certainly would have 
 pointed out and illustrated many circumstances of advantage, 
 from being in a situation, where the powers of the mind are 
 at once excited to vigorous exertion and tempered by rever- 
 ential awe. 
 
 During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed 
 in relating to the circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particu- 
 lars of what passed between the King and him, Dr. Gold- 
 smith remained unmoved upon a sofa at some distance, 
 affecting not to join in the least in the eager curiosity of the 
 company. He assigned as a reason for his gloom and seeming 
 inattention, that he apprehended Johnson had relinquished 
 his purpose of furnishing him with a Prologue to his play, 
 with the hopes of which he had been flattered; but it was 
 strongly suspected that he was fretting with chagrin and 
 envy at the singular honor Dr. Johnson had lately enjoyed. 
 At length, the frankness and simplicity of his natural char- 
 acter prevailed. He sprung from the sofa, advanced to 
 Johnson, and in a kind "of flutter, from imagining himself 
 in the situation which he had just been hearing described, 
 exclaimed, "Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation 
 better than I should have done; for I should have bowed 
 and stammered through the whole of it." 
 
 Soon afterwards, he supped at the Crown and Anchor 
 tavern, in the Strand, with a company whom I collected to 
 meet him. When I called upon Dr. Johnson next morning, 
 I found him highly satisfied with his colloquial prowess the 
 preceding evening. "Well, (said he,) we had good talk." 
 Boswell. "Yes, Sir, you tossed and gored several persons." 
 
 To obviate all the reflections which have gone round the 
 world to Johnson's prejudice, by applying to him the epithet 
 of a bear, let me impress upon my readers a just and happy 
 saying of my friend Goldsmith, who knew him well: "John- 
 son, to be sure, has a roughness in his manner: but no man 
 alive has a more tender heart. He has nothing of the bear 
 bid his skin." 
 
104 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 
 
 On the 30th of September [1769] we dined together at the 
 Mitre. Talking of a London life, he said, "The happiness 
 of London is not to be conceived but by those who have been 
 in it. I will venture to say, there is more learning and science 
 within the circumference of ten miles from where we now 
 sit, than in all the rest of the kingdom." Boswell. "The 
 only disadvantage is the great distance at which people 
 live from one another." Johnson. "Yes, Sir, but that is 
 occasioned by the largeness of it, which is the cause of all 
 the other advantages." Boswell. "Sometimes I have been 
 in the humor of wishing to retire to a desert." Johnson. 
 "Sir, you have desert enough in Scotland." 
 
 We drank tea with Mrs. Williams. I had last year the 
 pleasure of seeing Mrs. Thrale at Dr. Johnson's one morning, 
 and had conversation enough with her to admire her talents; 
 and to show her that I was as Johnsonian as herself. Dr. 
 Johnson had probably been kind enough to speak well of me, 
 for this evening he delivered me a very polite card from Mr. 
 Thrale and her, inviting me to Streatham. 
 
 On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging invi- 
 tation, and found at an elegant villa, six miles from town, 
 every circumstance that can make society pleasing. Johnson, 
 though quite at home, was yet looked up to with an awe, tem- 
 pered by affection, and seemed to be equally the care of his 
 host and hostess. I rejoiced at seeing him so happy. 
 
 He played off his wit against Scotland with a good-hu- 
 moured pleasantry, which gave me, though no bigot to national 
 prejudices, an opportunity for a little contest with him. 
 I having said that England was obliged to us for gardeners, 
 almost all their good gardeners being Scotchmen; — Johnson. 
 "Why, Sir, that is because gardening is much more necessary 
 amongst you than with us, which makes so many of your 
 people learn it. It is all gardening with you. Things 
 which grow wild here, must be cultivated with great care 
 in Scotland. Pray now (throwing himself back in his chair 
 and laughing,) are you ever able to bring the sloe to perfec- 
 tion?" 
 
 I boasted that we had the honor of being the first to abolish 
 
Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 105 
 
 the unhospitable, troublesome, and ungracious custom of 
 giving vails to servants. Johnson. "Sir, you abolished 
 vails, because you were too poor to be able to give them." 
 
 He honored me with his company at dinner on the 16th 
 of October, at my lodgings in Old Bond-street, with Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, 
 Mr. BickerstafT, and Mr. Thomas Davies. Garrick played 
 round him with a fond vivacity, taking hold of the breasts 
 of his coat, and, looking up in his face with a lively archness, 
 complimented him on the good health which he seemed then 
 to enjoy; while the sage, shaking his head, beheld him with a 
 gentle complacency. One of the company not being come 
 at the appointed hour, I proposed, as usual upon such occa- 
 sions, to order dinner to be served; adding, " Ought six 
 people to be kept waiting for one?" "Why, yes, (answered 
 Johnson, with a delicate humanity,) if the one will suffer 
 more by your sitting down, than the six will do by waiting." 
 Goldsmith, to divert the tedious minutes, strutted about, 
 bragging of his dress, and I believe was seriously vain of it, 
 for his mind was wonderfully prone to such impressions. 
 "Come, come, (said Garrick,) talk no more of that. You 
 are perhaps, the worst — eh, eh!" — Goldsmith was eagerly 
 attempting to interrupt him, when Garrick went on, laughing 
 ironically, "Nay, you will always look like a gentleman; 
 but I am talking of being well or ill drest." "Well, let me 
 tell you, (said Goldsmith,) when my tailor brought home 
 my bloom-colored coat, he said, 'Sir, I have a favor to beg 
 of you. When anybody asks you who made your clothes, 
 be pleased to mention John Filby, at the Harrow, in Water- 
 lane!" Johnson. "Why Sir, that was because he knew 
 the strange color would attract crowds to gaze at it, and thus 
 they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a 
 coat even of so absurd a color." 
 
 After dinner our conversation first turned upon Pope. 
 Johnson said, his characters of men were admirably drawn, 
 those of women not so well. He repeated to us, in his forcible 
 melodious manner, the concluding lines of The Dunciad. 
 While he was talking loudly in praise of those lines one of 
 
106 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 
 
 the company ventured to say, "Too fine for such a poem: — 
 a poem on what?" Johnson, (with a disdainful look,) 
 "Why, on dunces. It was worth while being a dunce then. 
 Ah, Sir, hadst thou lived in those days! It is not worth while 
 being a dunce now, when there are no wits." Bickerstaff 
 observed as a peculiar circumstance, that Pope's fame was 
 higher when he was alive than it was then. Johnson said, 
 his Pastorals were poor things, though the versification was 
 fine. He told us, with high satisfaction, the anecdote of 
 Pope's enquiring who was the author of his London, 
 and saying, he will be soon deterre. He observed, that in 
 Dryden's poetry there were passages drawn from a pro- 
 fundity which Pope could never reach. He repeated some 
 fine lines on love, by the former, (which I have now forgot- 
 ten,) and gave great applause to the character of Zimri. 
 Goldsmith said, that Pope's character of Addison showed a 
 deep knowledge of the human heart. Johnson said, that 
 the description of the temple, in The Mourning Bride, was 
 the finest poetical passage he had ever read; he recollected 
 none in Shakespeare equal to it. 
 
 I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who showed 
 me a letter which he had received from Tom Davies, telling 
 him that he had not been able to sleep from the concern he 
 felt on account of "This sad affair of Baretti" begging of 
 him to try if he could suggest anything that might be of 
 service; and, at the same time, recommending to him an 
 industrious young man who kept a pickle shop. Johnson. 
 "Ay, Sir, here you have a specimen of human sympathy; 
 a friend hanged, and a cucumber pickled. We know not 
 whether Baretti or the pickle man has kept Davies from sleep : 
 nor does he know himself. And as to his not sleeping, Sir; 
 Tom Davies is a very great man; Tom has been upon the 
 stage; and knows how to do these things. I have not been 
 upon the stage, and cannot do those things." Boswell. "I have 
 often blamed myself, Sir, for not feeling for others, as sensibly 
 as many say they do." Johnson. "Sir, don't be duped by 
 them any more. You will find these very feeling people are 
 not very ready to do you good. They pay you by feeling." 
 
Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 107 
 
 There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr. Johnson 
 was in very good humor, lively, and ready to talk upon all 
 subjects. Mr. Fergusson, the self-taught philosopher, told 
 him of a new invented machine which went without horses: 
 a man who sat in it turned a handle, which worked a spring 
 that drove it forward. "Then, Sir, (said Johnson,) what 
 is gained is, the man has his choice whether he will move 
 himself alone, or himself and the machine too." Dominicetti 
 being mentioned, he would not allow him any merit. "Thera 
 is nothing in all this boasted system. No, Sir; medicated 
 baths can be no better than warm water: their only effect 
 can be that of tepid moisture." One of the company took 
 the other side, maintaining that medicines of various sorts, 
 and some too of most powerful effect, are introduced into 
 the human frame by the medium of the pores; and, there- 
 fore, when warm water is impregnated with salutiferous 
 substances, it may produce great effects as a bath. This 
 appeared to me very satisfactory. Johnson did not answer 
 it; but talking for victory, and determined to be master of 
 the field, he had recourse to the device which Goldsmith 
 imputed to him in the witty words of one of Cibber's come- 
 dies: "There is no arguing with Johnson; for when his 
 pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it." 
 He turned to the gentleman, "Well, Sir, go to Dominicetti, 
 and get thyself fumigated; but be sure that the steam be 
 directed to thy head, for that is the peccant part." This pro- 
 duced a triumphant roar of laughter from the motley assembly 
 of philosophers, printers, and dependents, male and female. 
 
 When we were alone, I introduced the subject of death, and 
 endeavored to maintain that the fear of it might be got over. 
 I told him that David Hume said to me, he was no more 
 uneasy to think he should not be after his life, than that he 
 had not been before he began to exist. Johnson. "Sir, if 
 he really thinks so, his perceptions are disturbed; he is mad; 
 if he does not think so, he lies. He may tell you he holds his 
 finger in the flame of a candle without feeling pain; would 
 you believe him? When he dies, he at least gives up all he 
 has." Boswell. "Foote, Sir, told me, that when he was 
 
108 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 
 
 very ill he was not afraid to die.' ' Johnson. " It is not true, 
 Sir. Hold a pistol to Footers breast, or to Hume's breast, 
 and threaten to kill them, and you'll see how they behave.'' 
 Boswell. "But may we not fortify our minds for the ap- 
 proach of death?" — Here I am sensible I was in the wrong, 
 to bring before his view what he ever looked upon with horror; 
 for although when in a celestial frame of mind in his Vanity 
 of Human Wishes, he has supposed death to be "kind 
 Nature's signal for retreat," from this state of being to "a 
 happier seat," his thoughts upon this awful change were in 
 general full of dismal apprehensions. His mind resembled 
 the vast amphitheatre, the Coliseum at Rome. In the centre 
 stood his judgment, which like a mighty gladiator, combated 
 those apprehensions that, like the wild beasts of the Arena, 
 were all around in cells, ready to be let out upon him. After 
 a conflict, he drives them back into their dens; but not killing 
 them, they were still assailing him. To my question, whether 
 we might not fortify our minds for the approach of death, he 
 answered, in a passion, "No, Sir, let it alone. It matters not 
 how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of 
 importance, it lasts so short a time." He added (with an 
 earnest look,) "A man knows it must be so, and submits. 
 It will do him no good to whine." 
 
 I attempted to continue the conversation. He was so pro- 
 voked, that he said: "Give us no more of this;" and was 
 thrown into such a state of agitation, that he expressed him- 
 self in a way that alarmed and distressed me; showed an 
 impatience that I should leave him, and when I was going 
 away, called to me sternly, "Don't let us meet to-morrow." 
 
 I went home exceedingly uneasy. All the harsh observa- 
 tions which I had ever heard made upon his character, 
 crowded into my mind, and I seemed to myself like the man 
 who had put his head into the lion's mouth a great many 
 times with perfect safety, but at last had it bit off. 
 
 Next morning I sent him a note, stating that I might have 
 been in the wrong, but it was not intentionally; he was there- 
 fore, I could not help thinking, too severe upon me. That 
 notwithstanding our agreement not to meet that day, I would 
 
Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 109 
 
 call on him in my way to the city, and stay five minutes by 
 my watch. " You are, (said I,) in my mind, since last night, 
 surrounded with cloud and storm. Let me have a glimpse of 
 sunshine, and go about my affairs in serenity and cheerfulness.' ' 
 
 Upon entering his study, I was glad that he was not alone, 
 which would have made our meeting more awkward. There 
 were with him Mr. Steevens and Mr. Tyers, both of whom I 
 now saw for the first time. My note had, on his own re- 
 flection, softened him, for he received me very complacently; 
 so that I unexpectedly found myself at ease; and joined in 
 the conversation. 
 
 1 "His general mode of life, during my acquaintance, seemed 
 to b$ pretty uniform. About twelve o'clock I commonly 
 visited him, and frequently found him in bed, or declaiming 
 over his tea, which he drank very plentifully. He generally 
 had a levee of morning visitors chiefly men of letters; Hawkes- 
 worth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton, Steevens, Beauclerk, 
 &c. &c, and sometimes learned ladies; particularly I remem- 
 ber a French lady of wit and fashion doing him the honor of a 
 visit. He seemed to me to be considered as a kind of public 
 oracle, whom everybody thought they had a right to visit and 
 consult; and doubtless they were well rewarded. I never 
 could discover how he found time for his compositions. He 
 declaimed all the morning, then went to dinner at a tavern, 
 where he commonly stayed late, and then drank his tea at 
 some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while, but 
 seldom took supper. I fancy he must have read and wrote 
 chiefly in the night, for I can scarcely recollect that he ever 
 refused going with me to a tavern, and he often went to Rane- 
 lagh, which he deemed a place of innocent recreation. 
 
 "He frequently gave all the silver in his pocket to the poor, 
 who watched him, between his house and the tavern where he 
 dined. He walked the streets at all hours, and said he was 
 never robbed, for the rogues knew he had little money, nor 
 had the appearance of having much. 
 
 "Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, he said, was the only 
 
 1 From recollections supplied by the Rev. Dr. Maxwell, of Falk- 
 land, Ireland. 
 
110 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1754-71 
 
 book that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he 
 wished to rise. 
 
 "When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat 
 his opponents with too much acrimony: as, 'Sir, you don't 
 see your way through that question :' — 'Sir, you talk the 
 language of ignorance.' On my observing to him that a cer- 
 tain gentleman had remained silent the whole evening, in 
 the midst of a very brilliant and learned society, ' Sir, (said he,) 
 the conversation overflowed, and drowned him.' 
 
 "Speaking of a dull tiresome fellow, whom we chanced to 
 meet, he said, 'That fellow seems to me to possess but one 
 idea, and that is a wrong one.' 
 
 "Much enquiry having been made concerning a gentleman, 
 who had quitted a company where Johnson was, and no in- 
 formation being obtained; at last Johnson observed, that 'he 
 did not care to speak ill of any man behind his back, but he 
 believed the gentleman was an attorney.' 
 
 "He spoke with much contempt of the notice taken of 
 Woodhouse, the poetical shoemaker. He said, it was all 
 vanity and childishness, and that such objects were, to those 
 who patronized them, mere mirrors of their own superiority. 
 'They had better (said he,) furnish the man with good imple- 
 ments for his trade, than raise subscriptions for his poems. 
 He may make an excellent shoemaker, but can never make a 
 good poet. A school-boy's exercise may be a pretty thing 
 for a school-boy; but it is no treat for a man.' 
 
 "A gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, 
 married immediately after his wife died : Johnson said, it was 
 the triumph of hope over experience. 
 
 "He observed that a man of sense and education should 
 meet a suitable companion in a wife. It was a miserable 
 thing when the conversation could only be such as, whether 
 the mutton should be boiled or roasted, and probably a dis- 
 pute about that. 
 
 "He did not approve of late marriages, observing that more 
 was lost in point of time, than compensated for by any possible 
 advantages. Even ill-assorted marriages were preferable to 
 cheerless celibacy/ ' 
 
 
CHAPTER VIII (1772-1773) 
 Johnson on Many Topics 
 
 Johnson on Certain English Words — On Fielding — On Ghosts 
 
 — On Goldsmith — On Garrick — On Scotland — Johnson Corres- 
 ponds with an American — Johnson on Gesticulation — On Lord 
 Chesterfield — Boswell Dines with Johnson — On Goldsmith Again 
 
 — Boswell Admitted to The Club — Goldsmith Again — Anecdotes 
 of Goldsmith. 
 
 On Monday, March 23, I found him busy, preparing a 
 fourth edition of his folio Dictionary. Mr. Peton, one of his 
 original amanuenses, was writing for him. I put him in 
 mind of a meaning of the word side, which he had omitted, 
 viz., relationship; as father's side, mother's side. He in- 
 serted it. I asked him if humiliating was a good word. He 
 said, he had seen it frequently used, but he did not know it 
 to be legitimate English. He would not admit civilization, 
 but only civility. With great deference to him I thought 
 civilization, from to civilize, better in the sense opposed to 
 barbarity than civility; as it is better to have a distinct word 
 for each sense, than one word with two senses, which civility 
 is, in his way of using it. 
 
 Dr. Johnson went home with me to my lodgings in Conduit- 
 street and drank tea, previous to our going to the Pantheon, 
 which neither of us had seen before. 
 
 He said, " Goldsmith's Life of Parnell is poor; not that it is 
 poorly written, but that he had poor materials; for nobody 
 can write the life of a man, but those who have eat and drunk 
 and lived in social intercourse with him." 
 
 I said, that if it was not troublesome and presuming too 
 much, I would request him to tell me all the little circum- 
 stances of his life; what schools he attended, when he came to 
 Oxford, when he came to London, &c. &c. He did not dis- 
 approve of my curiosity as to these particulars, but said, 
 "They'll come out by degrees, as we talk together." 
 
 Fielding being mentioned, Johnson exclaimed, "He was a 
 
 111 
 
112 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1772 
 
 blockhead ;" and upon my expressing my astonishment at so 
 strange an assertion, he said, "What I mean by his being a 
 blockhead is, that he was a barren rascal.' ' Bos well. "Will 
 you not allow, Sir, that he draws very natural pictures of 
 human life?" Johnson. "Why, Sir, it is of very low life. 
 Richardson used to say, that had he not known who Fielding 
 was, he should have believed he was an ostler. Sir, there is 
 more knowledge of the heart in one letter of Richardson's 
 than in all Tom Jones. I, indeed, never read Joseph An- 
 drews" Erskine. "Surely, Sir, Richardson is very tedious." 
 Johnson. "Why, Sir, if you were to read Richardson for 
 the story, your impatience would be so much fretted that you 
 would hang yourself. But you must read him for the senti- 
 ment, and consider the story as only giving occasion to the 
 sentiment." — I have already given my opinion of Fielding; 
 but I cannot refrain from repeating here my wonder at John- 
 son's excessive and unaccountable depreciation of one of the 
 best writers that England has produced. Tom Jones has 
 stood the test of public opinion with such success, as to have 
 established its great merit, both for the story, the sentiments, 
 and the manners, and also the varieties of diction, so as to 
 leave no doubt of its having an animated truth of execution 
 throughout. 
 
 On Thursday, April 9, I called on him to beg he would go 
 and dine with me at the Mitre tavern. He had resolved not 
 to dine at all this day, I know not for what reason ; and I was 
 so unwilling to be deprived of his company, that I was content 
 to submit to suffer a want, which was at first somewhat pain- 
 ful, but he soon made me forget it; and a man is always 
 pleased with himself, when he finds his intellectual inclinations 
 predominate. 
 
 Talking of ghosts, he said, he knew one friend, who was an 
 honest man and a sensible man, who told him he had seen a 
 ghost; old Mr. Edward Cave, the printer at St. John's 
 Gate. He said, Mr. Cave did not like to talk of it, and 
 seemed to be in great horror whenever it was mentioned. 
 Bos well. "Pray, Sir, what did he say was the appearance?" 
 Johnson. "Why, Sir, something of a shadowy being." 
 
Age 63] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 113 
 
 On Friday, April 10, I dined with him at General Ogle- 
 thorpe's, where we found Dr. Goldsmith. 
 
 The General told us, that when he was a very young man, 
 I think, only fifteen, serving under Prince Eugene of Savoy, 
 he was sitting in a company at table with a Prince of Wlirtem- 
 berg. The Prince took up a glass of wine, and, by a fillip, 
 made some of it fly in Oglethorpe's face. Here was a nice 
 dilemma. To have challenged him instantly might have 
 fixed a quarrelsome character upon the young soldier: to 
 have taken no notice of it might have been considered as 
 cowardice. Oglethorpe, therefore, keeping his eye upon the 
 Prince, and smiling all the time, as if he took what his High- 
 ness had done in jest, said "Mon Prince — " (I forget the 
 French words he used, the purport however was,) " that's a 
 good joke: but we do it much better in England;" and threw 
 a whole glass of wine in the Prince's face. An old General 
 who sat by, said u Il a bienfait, mon Prince; vous Vavez com- 
 mence: " l and thus all ended in good humor. 
 
 Dr. Johnson said, "Pray, General, give us an account of the 
 siege of Belgrade." Upon which the General, pouring a little 
 wine upon the table, described everything with a wet finger: 
 "Here we were, here were the Turks," &c. &c. Johnson 
 listened with the closest attention. 
 
 On Saturday, April 11, he appointed me to come to him in 
 the evening. 
 
 Of our friend Goldsmith he said, "Sir, he is so much afraid 
 of being unnoticed, that he often talks merely lest you should 
 forget that he is in the company." Boswell. "Yes, he 
 stands forward." Johnson. "True, Sir; but if a man is to 
 stand forward, he should wish to do it not in an awkward 
 posture, not in rags, not so as that he shall only be exposed 
 to ridicule." Boswell. "For my part, I like very well to 
 hear honest Goldsmith talk away carelessly." Johnson. 
 "Why yes, Sir; but he should not like to hear himself." 
 
 I paid him short visits both on Friday and Saturday, and 
 seeing his large folio Greek Testament before him, beheld him 
 with a reverential awe, and would not intrude upon his time. 
 1 He has acted properly, Prince; you started it. 
 
114 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1772 
 
 While he was thus employed to such good purpose, and while 
 his friends in their intercourse with him constantly found a 
 vigorous intellect and a lively imagination, it is melancholy 
 to read in his private register, "My mind is unsettled and my 
 memory confused. I have of late turned my thoughts with a 
 very useless earnestness upon past incidents. I have yet got 
 no command over my thoughts; an unpleasing incident is 
 almost certain to hinder my rest." What philosophic heroism 
 was it in him to appear with such manly fortitude to the world, 
 while he was inwardly so distressed! We may surely believe 
 that the mysterious principle of being "made perfect through 
 suffering," was to be strongly exemplified in him. 
 
 While I remained in London this spring, I was with him at 
 several other times, both by himself and in company. I 
 dined with him one day at the Crown and Anchor tavern, in 
 the Strand, with Lord Elibank, Mr. Langton, and Dr. Vansit- 
 art of Oxford. Without specifying each particular day, I 
 have preserved the following memorable things. 
 
 I regretted the reflection in his Preface to Shakespeare 
 against Garrick, to whom we cannot but apply the following 
 passage: "I collated such copies as I could procure, and 
 wished for more, but have not found the collectors of these 
 rarities very communicative." I told him, that Garrick had 
 complained to me of it, and had vindicated himself by assuring 
 me, that Johnson was made welcome to the full use of his col- 
 lection, and that he left the key of it with a servant, with 
 orders to have a fire and every convenience for him. I found 
 Johnson's notion was, that Garrick wanted to be courted for 
 them, and that, on the contrary, Garrick should have courted 
 him, and sent him the plays of his own accord. But, indeed, 
 considering the slovenly and careless manner in which books 
 were treated by Johnson, it could not be expected that scarce 
 and valuable editions should have been lent to him. 
 
 A gentleman having to some of the usual arguments for 
 drinking added this: "You know, Sir, drinking drives away 
 care, and makes us forget whatever is disagreeable. Would 
 not you allow a man to drink for that reason?" Johnson. 
 "Yes, Sir, if he sat next you." 
 
Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 115 
 
 He would not allow Scotland to derive any credit from Lord 
 Mansfield; for he was educated in England. "Much (said 
 he,) may be made of a Scotchman, if he be caught young. " 
 
 While a former edition of my work was passing through 
 the press, I was unexpectedly favored with a packet from 
 Philadelphia, from Mr. James Abercrombie, a gentleman of 
 that country, who is pleased to honor me with very high 
 praise of my Life of Dr. Johnson. To have the fame of my 
 illustrious friend, and his faithful biographer, echoed from the 
 New World is extremely flattering; and my grateful acknowl- 
 edgments shall be wafted across the Atlantic. Mr. Aber- 
 crombie has politely conferred on me a considerable additional 
 obligation, by transmitting to me copies of two letters from 
 Dr. Johnson to American gentlemen. " Gladly, Sir, (says he,) 
 would I have sent you the originals ; but being the only relics 
 of the kind in America, they are considered by the possessors 
 of such inestimable value, that no possible consideration 
 would induce them to part with them. In some future publi- 
 cation of yours relative to that great and good man, they may 
 perhaps be thought worthy of insertion." 
 
 "To Mr. B -D/ 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 "That in the hurry of a sudden departure you should yet 
 find leisure to consult my convenience, is a degree of kind- 
 ness, and an instance of regard, not only beyond my claims, 
 but above- my expectation. You are not mistaken in sup- 
 posing that I set a high value on my American friends, and 
 that you should confer a very valuable favor upon me by 
 giving me an opportunity of keeping myself in their memory. 
 
 "I have taken the liberty of troubling you with a packet, to 
 which I wish a safe and speedy conveyance, because I wish a . 
 safe and speedy voyage to him that conveys it. I am, Sir, 
 
 "~ "Your most humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "London, Johnson's-court, ' 
 
 "Fleet-street, March 4, 1773." 
 
116 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 11 To the Reverend Mr. White. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "Your kindness for your friends accompanies you across 
 the Atlantic. It was long since observed by Horace, that no 
 ship could leave care behind : you have been attended in your 
 voyage by other powers, — by benevolence and constancy: 
 and I hope care did not often show her face in their company. 
 
 "I received the copy of Rasselas. The impression is not 
 magnificent, but it flatters an author, because the printer 
 seems to have expected that it would be scattered among the 
 people. The little book has been well received, and is trans- 
 lated into Italian, French, German, and Dutch. It has now 
 one honor more by an American edition. 
 
 "I know not that much has happened since your departure 
 that can engage your curiosity. Of all public transactions 
 the whole world is now informed by the newspapers. Oppo- 
 sition seems to despond ; and the dissenters, though they have 
 taken advantage of unsettled times, and a government much 
 enfeebled, seem not likely to gain any immunities. 
 
 "Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy in rehearsal at Co vent 
 Garden, to which the manager predicts ill success. I hope he 
 will be mistaken. I think it deserves a very kind reception. 
 
 "I shall soon publish a new edition of my large Dictionary: 
 I have been persuaded to revise it, and have mended some 
 faults, but added little to its usefulness. 
 
 "No book has been published since your departure of which 
 much notice is taken. Faction only fills the town with 
 pamphlets, and greater subjects are forgotten in the noise of 
 discord. 
 
 > "Thus have I written, only to tell you how little I have to 
 tell. Of myself I can only add, that having been afflicted many 
 weeks with a very troublesome cough, I am now recovered. 
 
 "I take the liberty which you give me of troubling you 
 with a letter, of which you will please to fill up the direction. 
 I am, Sir, "Your most humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "Johnson's-court, Fleet-street, 
 
 London, March 4, 1773." 
 
Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 117 
 
 At Mr. Thrale's, in the evening, he repeated his usual 
 paradoxical declamation against action in public speaking. 
 " Action can have no effect upon reasonable minds. It may 
 augment noise, but it never can enforce argument. If you 
 speak to a dog, you use action; you hold up your hand thus, 
 because he is a brute; and in proportion as men are removed 
 from brutes, action will have the less influence upon them." 
 Mrs. Thrale. "What then, Sir, becomes of Demosthenes's 
 saying? ' Action, action, action!'" Johnson. "Demos- 
 thenes, Madam, spoke to an assembly of brutes; to a bar- 
 barous people." 
 
 I thought it extraordinary, that he should deny the power 
 of rhetorical action upon human nature, when it is proved by 
 innumerable facts in all stages of society. Reasonable beings 
 are not solely reasonable. They have fancies which may be 
 pleased, passions which may be roused. 
 
 Lord Chesterfield being mentioned, Johnson remarked, 
 that almost all of that celebrated nobleman's witty sayings 
 were puns. He, however, allowed the merit of good wit to 
 his Lordship's saying of Lord Tyrawiey and himself, when both 
 very old and infirm: "Tyrawiey and I have been dead these 
 two years; but we don't choose to have it known." 
 
 To my great surprise he asked me to dine with him on 
 Easterday. I never supposed that he had a dinner at his 
 house; for I had not then heard of any one of his friends 
 having been entertained at his table. He told me, "I have 
 generally a meat-pie on Sunday : it is baked at a public oven, 
 which is very properly allowed, because one man can attend 
 it; and thus the advantage is obtained of not keeping servants 
 from church to dress dinners." 
 
 April 11, being Easter Sunday, after having attended divine 
 Service at St. Paul's, I repaired to Dr. Johnson's. I had 
 gratified my curiosity much in dining with Jean Jaques 
 Rousseau, while he lived in the wilds of Neuf chatel : I had as 
 great curiosity to dine with Dr. Samuel Johnson, in the dusky 
 recess of a court in Fleet-street. I supposed we should 
 scarcely have knives and forks, and only some strange, un- 
 couth, ill-dressed dish: but I found everything in very good 
 
118 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 order. We had no other company but Mrs. Williams and a 
 young woman whom I did not know. As a dinner here was 
 considered as a singular phenomenon, and as I was frequently 
 interrogated on the subject, my readers may perhaps be 
 desirous to know our byfl of fare. Foote, I remember, in 
 allusion to Francis, the negro, was willing to suppose that our 
 repast was black broth. But the fact was, that we had a very 
 good soup, a boiled leg of lamb and spinach, a veal pie, and a 
 rice pudding. 
 
 I again solicited him to communicate to me the particulars 
 of his early life. He said, "You shall have them all for two- 
 pence. I hope you shall know a great deal more of me before 
 you write my Life." He mentioned to me this day many 
 circumstances, which I wrote down when I went home, and 
 have interwoven in the former part of this narrative. 
 
 Mr. Elphinston talked of a new book that was much 
 admired, and asked Dr. Johnson if he had read it. Johnson. 
 "I have looked into it." "What (said Elphinston,) have 
 you not read it through?" Johnson, offended at being thus 
 pressed, and so obliged to own his cursory mode of reading, 
 answered tartly, "No, Sir; do you read books through?" 
 
 He said, "Goldsmith should not be forever attempting to 
 shine in conversation : he has not temper for it, he is so much 
 mortified when he fails. Sir, a game of jokes is composed 
 partly of skill, partly of chance, a man may be beat at times 
 by one who has not the tenth part of his wit." 
 
 Goldsmith, however, was often very fortunate in his witty 
 contests, even when he entered the lists with Johnson him- 
 self. Sir Joshua Reynolds was in company with them one 
 day, when Goldsmith said, that he thought he could write a 
 good fable, mentioned the simplicity which that kind of com- 
 position requires, and observed, that in most fables the ani- 
 mals introduced seldom talk in character. "For instance, 
 (said he,) the fable of the little fishes, who saw birds fly over 
 their heads, and envying them, petitioned Jupiter to be 
 changed into birds. The skill (continued he,) consists in 
 making them talk like little fishes." While he indulged him- 
 self in this fanciful reverie, he observed Johnson shaking his 
 
Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 119 
 
 sides, and laughing. Upon which he smartly proceeded. 
 "Why, Dr Johnson, this is not so easy as you seem to think; 
 for if you were to make little fishes talk they would talk like 
 whales." 
 
 On Friday, April 30, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk's, 
 where were Lord Charlemont, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and some 
 more members of the Literary Club, whom he had obligingly 
 invited to meet me, as I was this evening to be ballotted for 
 as candidate for admission into that distinguished society. 
 Johnson had done me the honor to propose me, and Beauclerk 
 was very zealous for me. 
 
 Goldsmith being mentioned; Johnson. "It is amazing 
 how little Goldsmith knows. He seldom comes where he is 
 not more ignorant than any one else." Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 "Yet there is no man whose company is more liked." John- 
 son. "To be sure, Sir. When people find a man of the most 
 distinguished abilities as a writer their inferior while he is with 
 them, it must be highly gratifying to them. What Gold- 
 smith comically says of himself is very true, — he always 
 gets the better when he argues alone; meaning, that he is 
 master of a subject in his study, and can write well upon it; 
 but when he comes into company, grows confused, and un- 
 able to talk. Take him as a poet, his Traveller is a very fine 
 performance; ay, and so is his Deserted Village, were it not 
 sometimes too much the echo of his Traveller. Whether, 
 indeed, we take him as a poet, — as a comic writer, — or as 
 an historian, he stands in the first class." Boswell. "An 
 historian! My dear Sir, you surely will not rank his com- 
 pilation of the Roman History with the works of other 
 historians of this age?" Johnson. "Why, who are before 
 him? " Boswell. " Hume, — Robertson, — Lord Lyttel- 
 ton." Johnson. (His antipathy to the Scotch beginning 
 to rise.) "I have not read Hume; but, doubtless, Gold- 
 smith's History is better than the verbiage of Robertson, or the 
 foppery of Dalrymple." Boswell. "Will you not admit 
 the superiority of Robertson, in whose History we find such 
 penetration — such painting?" Johnson. "Sir, you must 
 consider how that penetration and that painting are employed. 
 
120 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 It is not history, it is imagination. He who describes what 
 he never saw, draws from fancy. Robertson paints minds as 
 Sir Joshua paints faces in a history piece: he imagines an 
 heroic countenance. You must look upon Robertson's work 
 as romance and try it by that standard. History it is not. 
 Besides, Sir, it is the great excellence of a writer to put into 
 his book as much as his book will hold. Goldsmith has done 
 this in his History. Now Robertson might have put twice 
 as much into his book. Robertson is like a man who has 
 packed gold in wool; the wool takes up more room than the 
 gold. No, Sir; I always thought Robertson would be 
 crushed by his own weight, would be buried under his own 
 ornaments. Goldsmith tells you shortly all you want to 
 know: Robertson detains you a great deal too long. No 
 man will read Robertson's cumbrous detail a second time; 
 but Goldsmith's plain narrative will please again and again. 
 I would say to Robertson what an old tutor of a college said 
 to one of his pupils: 'Read over your compositions, and 
 wherever you meet with a passage which you think is par- 
 ticularly fine, strike it out.' Goldsmith's abridgment is 
 better than that of Lucius Florus or Eutropius; and I will 
 venture to say, that if you compare him with Vertot, in the 
 same places of the Roman History, you will find that he excels 
 Vertot. Sir, he has the art of compiling, and of saying every- 
 thing he has to say in a pleasing manner. He is now writing 
 a Natural History, and will make it as entertaining as a 
 Persian Tale." 
 
 I cannot dismiss the present topic without observing, that 
 it is probable that Dr. Johnson, who owned that he often 
 "talked for victory," rather urged plausible objections to Dr. 
 Robertson's excellent historical works, in the ardor of con- 
 test, than expressed his real and decided opinion; for it is not 
 easy to suppose, that he should so widely differ from the rest 
 of the literary world. 
 
 The gentlemen went away to their club, and I was left at 
 Beauclerk's till the fate of my election should be announced 
 to me. I sat in a state of anxiety which even the charming 
 conversation of Lady Di Beauclerk could not entirely dissi- 
 
Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 121 
 
 pate. In a short time I received the agreeable intelligence 
 that I was chosen. I hastened to the place of meeting and 
 was introduced to such a society as can seldom be found: 
 Mr. Edmund Burke, whom I then saw for the first time, and 
 whose splendid talents had long made me ardently wish for 
 his acquaintance; Dr. Nugent, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, 
 Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Jones, and the company with 
 whom I had dined. Upon my entrance, Johnson placed 
 himself behind a chair, on which he leaned as on a desk or 
 pulpit, and with humorous formality gave me a Charge, 
 pointing out the conduct expected from me as a good member 
 of this club. 
 
 Qn Saturday, May 1, we dined by ourselves at our old 
 rendezvous, the Mitre tavern. He was placid, but not much 
 disposed to talk. He observed, that "the Irish mix better 
 with the English than the Scotch do; their language is nearer 
 to English; as a proof of which, they succeed very well as 
 players, which Scotchmen do not. Then, Sir, they have not 
 that extreme nationality which we find in the Scotch. I 
 will do you, Bos well, the justice to say, that you are the most 
 unscottified of your countrymen. You are almost the only 
 instance of a Scotchman that I have known, who did not at 
 every other sentence bring in some other Scotchman. " 
 
 In our way to the club to-night, when I regretted that 
 Goldsmith would, upon every occasion, endeavor to shine, by 
 which he often exposed himself, Mr. Langton observed, that 
 he was not like Addison, who was content with the fame of his 
 writings, and did not aim also at excellency in conversation, 
 for which he found himself unfit; and that he said to a lady 
 who complained of his having talked little in company, 
 "Madam, I have but nine-pence in ready money, but I can 
 draw for a thousand pounds. " I observed that Goldsmith 
 had a great deal of gold in his cabinet, but, not content with 
 that, was always taking out his purse. Johnson. "Yes, 
 Sir, and that so often an empty purse! " 
 
 Goldsmith's incessant desire of being conspicuous in com- 
 pany, was the occasion of his sometimes appearing to such 
 disadvantage as one should hardly have supposed possible 
 
122 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 in a man of his genius. When his literary reputation had 
 risen deservedly high, and his society was much courted, he 
 became very jealous of the extraordinary attention which was 
 everywhere paid to Johnson. One evening, in a circle of 
 wits, he found fault with me for talking of Johnson as entitled 
 to the honor of unquestionable superiority. "Sir, (said he,) 
 you are for making a monarchy of what should be a republic." 
 
 He was still more mortified, when talking in a company 
 w T ith fluent vivacity, and, as he flattered himself, to the ad- 
 miration of all who were present, a German who sat next him, 
 and perceived Johnson rolling himself, as if about to speak, 
 suddenly stopped him, saying, "Stay, stay, — Toctor Shon- 
 son is going to say something." This was, no doubt, very 
 provoking, especially to one so irritable as Goldsmith, who 
 frequently mentioned it with strong expressions of indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 It may also be observed, that Goldsmith was sometimes 
 content to be treated with an easy familiarity, but upon 
 occasions, would be consequential and important. An in- 
 stance of this occurred in a small particular. Johnson had a 
 way of contracting the names of his friends; as Beauclerk, 
 Beau; Bos well, Bozzy; Langton, Lanky; Murphy, Mur; 
 Sheridan, Sherry. I remember one day, when Tom Davies 
 was telling that Dr. Johnson said, "We are all in labor for a 
 name to Goldy's play," Goldsmith seemed displeased that 
 such a liberty should be taken with his name, and said, "I 
 have often desired him not to call me Goldy." Tom was 
 remarkably attentive to the most minute circumstance about 
 Johnson. I recollect his telling me once, on my arrival in 
 London, "Sir, our great friend has made an improvement 
 on his appelation of old Mr. Sheridan. He calls him now 
 Sherry derry." 
 
CHAPTER IX (1773-1776) 
 Johnson's Journeys to the Hebrides and France 
 
 Johnson Agrees to Go to the Hebrides — His Stay in Scotland — - 
 Return to London — Mrs. Boswell and Johnson — Johnson's Ac- 
 count of the Tour — Boswell on England's Relations with America 
 
 — The Altercation with Macpherson — - Johnson's Physical Courage 
 
 — His Treatment of Offenders — The Journey to the Western Islands — 
 Johnson's Taxation No Tyranny — Boswell's Criticism — Mr. 
 Strahan's Apprentice — Johnson and the Seville Oranges — Johnson 
 on Patriotism — ■ On Himself as Good-Humored — On The Spec- 
 tator -- Johnson's Love of Merriment — His Charitableness — Let- 
 ters to Boswell — The Tour to France — Johnson on French Cus- 
 toms. 
 
 In a letter from Edinburgh, dated the 29th of May, I 
 pressed him to persevere in his resolution to make this year 
 the projected visit to the Hebrides, of which he and I had 
 talked for many years, and which I was confident would 
 afford us much entertainment. 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 "When your letter came to me, I was so darkened by an 
 inflammation in my eye that I could not for some time read 
 it. I can now write without trouble, and can read large 
 prints. My eye is gradually growing stronger; and I hope 
 will be able to take some delight in the survey of a Caledonian 
 loch. 
 
 "Chambers is going a Judge, with six thousand a year, to 
 Bengal. He and I shall come down together as far as New- 
 castle, and thence I shall easily get to Edinburgh. Let me 
 know the exact time when your Courts intermit. I must 
 conform a little to Chambers's occasions, and he must conform 
 a little to mine. The time which you shall fix, must be the 
 common point to which we will come as near as we can. Ex- 
 cept this eye, I am very well. 
 
 123 
 
124 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 "Beattie is so caressed, and invited, and treated, and liked, 
 and flattered, by the great, that I can see nothing of him. I 
 am in great hope that he will be well provided for, and then 
 we will live upon him at the Marischal College, without pity 
 or modesty. 
 
 " . . . left the town without taking leave of me, and is 
 gone in deep dudgeon to ... . Is not this very childish? 
 Where is now my legacy? 
 
 "I hope your dear lady and her dear baby are both well. 
 I shall see them too when I come; and I have that opinion of 
 your choice, as to suspect that when I have seen Mrs. Bos- 
 well, I shall be less willing to go away. 
 "I am, dear Sir, 
 
 "Your affectionate humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "Johnson's-court, Fleet-street, 
 
 u Juiy 5, ma." 
 
 "Write to me as soon as you can. Chambers is now at 
 Oxford." 
 
 I again wrote to him, informing him that the Court of 
 Session rose on the twelfth of August, hoping to see him 
 before that time, and expressing, perhaps in too extravagant 
 terms, my admiration of him, and my expectation of pleasure 
 from our intended tour. 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I shall set out from London on Friday the sixth of this 
 month, and purpose not to loiter much by the way. Which 
 day I shall be at Edinburgh, I cannot exactly tell. I suppose 
 I must drive to an inn, and send a porter to find you. 
 
 " I am afraid Beattie will not be at his College soon enough 
 for us, and I shall be sorry to miss him; but there is no stay- 
 ing for the concurrence of all conveniences. We will do as 
 well as we can. I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your most humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "August 3, 1773." 
 
Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 125 
 
 To the Same. 
 11 Dear Sir, 
 
 "Not being at Mr. Thrale's when your letter came, I had 
 written the enclosed paper and sealed it; bringing it hither 
 for a frank, I found yours. If anything could repress my 
 ardor, it would be such a letter as yours. To disappoint a 
 friend is unpleasing: and he that forms expectations like 
 yours, must be disappointed. Think only when you see me, 
 that you see a man who loves you, and is proud and glad that 
 you love him. I am, Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate, 
 "August 3, 1773." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 His stay in Scotland was from the 18th of August, on which 
 day he arrived, till the 22d of November, when he set out on 
 his return to London; and I believe ninety-four days were 
 never passed by any man in a more vigorous exertion. 
 
 He came by the way of Berwick upon Tweed to Edinburgh, 
 where he remained a few days, and then went by St. Andrews, 
 Aberdeen, Inverness, and Fort Augustus, to the Hebrides, to 
 visit which was the principal object he had in view. He 
 visited the isles of Skye, Rasay, Coll, Mull, Inchkenneth, and 
 Icolmkill. He travelled through Argyleshire by Inveraray, 
 and from thence by Lochlomond and Dumbarton to Glasgow, 
 then by London to Auchinleck in Ayrshire, the seat of my 
 family, and then by Hamilton, back to Edinburgh, where he 
 again spent some time. He thus saw the four Universities 
 of Scotland, its three principal cities, and as much of the 
 Highland and insular life as was sufficient for his philosophical 
 contemplation. I had the pleasure of accompanying him 
 during the whole of his journey. He was respectfully enter- 
 tained by the great, the learned, and the elegant, wherever 
 he went; nor was he less delighted with the hospitality which 
 he experienced in humbler life. 
 
 His various adventures, and the force and vivacity of his 
 mind, as exercised during this peregrination, upon innumer- 
 able topics, have been faithfully, and to the best of my abili- 
 ties, displayed in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, to 
 
126 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 
 
 which, as the public has been pleased to honor it by a very 
 extensive circulation, I beg leave to refer, as to a separate 
 and remarkable portion of his life, which may be there seen 
 in detail, and which exhibits as striking a view of his powers 
 in conversation, as his works do of his excellence in writing. 
 During his stay at Edinburgh, after his return from the 
 Hebrides, he was at great pains to obtain information con- 
 cerning Scotland; and it will appear from his subsequent 
 letters, that he was not less solicitous for intelligence on this 
 subject after his return to London. 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I came home last night, without any incommodity, danger, 
 or weariness, and am ready to begin a new journey. I shall 
 go to Oxford on Monday. I know Mrs. Boswell wished me 
 well to go; her wishes have not been disappointed. 1 Mrs. 
 Williams has received Sir A.'s letter. 
 
 "Make my compliments to all those to whom my compli- 
 ments may be welcome. 
 
 "Let the box be sent as soon as it can, and let me know 
 when to expect it. 
 
 "Enquire, if you can, the order of the Clans: Macdonald 
 is first, Maclean second; further I cannot go. Quicken Dr. 
 Webster. "I am, Sir, 
 
 "Yours affectionately, 
 "November 27, 1773." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 1 In this he showed a very acute penetration. My wife paid him 
 the most assiduous and respectful attention, while he was our guest; 
 so that I wonder how he discovered her wishing for his departure. 
 The truth is, that his irregular hours and uncouth habits, such as 
 turning the candles with their heads downward, when they did not 
 burn bright enough, and letting the wax drop upon the carpet, could 
 not but be disagreeable to a lady. Besides, she had not that high 
 admiration of him which was felt by most of those who knew him; 
 and what was very natural to a female mind, she thought he had too 
 much influence over her husband. She once in a little warmth 
 made, with more point than justice, this remark upon that subject: 
 "I have seen many a bear led by a man; but I never before saw a 
 man led by a bear." 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 127 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 "I long to hear how you like the book; 1 it is, I think, much 
 liked here. But Macpherson is very furious; can you give 
 me any more intelligence about him, or his Fingal? Do what 
 you can, and do it quickly. Is Lord Hailes on our side? 
 
 "Pray let me know what I owed you when I left you, that 
 I may send it to you. 
 
 "lam going to write about the Americans. If you have 
 picked up any hints among your lawyers, who are great 
 masters of the law of nations, or if your own mind suggest 
 anything, let me know. But mum, it is a secret. 
 
 "I .will send your parcel of books as soon as I can; but I 
 cannot do as I wish. However, you find everything men- 
 tioned in the book which you recommended. 
 
 "Langton is here; we are all that ever we were. He is a 
 worthy fellow, without malice, though not without resentment. 
 
 "Poor Beauclerk is so ill, that his life is thought to be in 
 danger. Lady Di nurses him with very great assiduity. 
 
 " Reynolds has taken top much to strong liquor, and seems 
 to delight in his new character. 
 
 "This is all the news that I have; but as you love verses, 
 I will send you a few which I made upon Inchkenneth; but 
 remember the condition, you shall not show them, except to 
 Lord Hailes, whom I love better than any man whom I 
 know so little. If he asks you to transcribe them for him, 
 you may do it, but I think he must promise not to let them be 
 copied again, nor to show them as mine. 
 
 "I have at last sent back Lord Hailes's sheets. I never 
 think about returning them, because I alter nothing. You 
 will see that I might as well have kept them. However, I 
 am ashamed of my delay; and if I have the honor of receiving 
 any more, promise punctually to return them by the next 
 post. Make my compliments to dear Mrs. Boswell, and to 
 Miss Veronica. I am, dear Sir, 
 
 "Yours most faithfully, 
 "Jan. 1, 1775." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 1 Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. 
 
128 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 "Mr. Boswell to Dr. Johnson. 
 
 "Edinburgh, Jan. 27, 1775. 
 
 "... You rate our lawyers here too high, when you 
 call them great masters of the law of nations. . . . 
 
 "As for myself, I am ashamed to say I have read little and 
 thought little on the subject of America. I will be much 
 obliged to you, if you will direct me where I shall find the 
 best information of what is to be said on both sides. It is 
 a subject vast in its present extent and future consequences. 
 The imperfect hints which now float in my mind tend rather 
 to the formation of an opinion that our government has been 
 precipitant and severe in the resolutions taken against the 
 Bostonians. Well do you know that I have no kindness for 
 that race. But nations, or bodies of men, should, as well as 
 individuals, have a fair trial, and not be condemned on 
 character alone. Have we not express contracts with our 
 colonies, which afford a more certain foundation of judgment 
 than general political speculations on the mutual rights of 
 States and their provinces or colonies? Pray let me know 
 immediately what to read, and I shall diligently endeavor to 
 gather for you anything that I can find. Is Burke's speech 
 on American taxation published by himself? Is it authentic? 
 I remember to have heard you say, that you had never con- 
 sidered East Indian affairs: though, surely, they are of much 
 importance to Great Britain. Under the recollection of this, 
 I shelter myself from the reproach of ignorance about the 
 Americans. If you write upon the subject, I shall certainly 
 understand it. But, since you seem to expect that I should 
 know something of it, without your instruction, and that 
 my own mind should suggest something, I trust you will put 
 me in the way." 
 
 What words were used by Mr. Macpherson in his letter to 
 the venerable Sage, I have never heard; but they are gener- 
 ally said to have been of a nature very different from the 
 language of literary contest. Dr. Johnson's answer appeared 
 in the newspapers of the day, and has since been frequently 
 republished; but not with perfect accuracy. I give it as 
 dictated to me by himself, written down in his presence, and 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 129 
 
 authenticated by a note in his own handwriting, "This, I 
 think, is a trite copy." 
 
 "Mr. James Macpherson, 
 
 " I received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence 
 offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do 
 for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be 
 deterred from detecting what I think a cheat, by the menaces 
 of a ruffian. 
 
 "What would you have me retract? I thought your book 
 an imposture; I think it an imposture still. For this opinion 
 I have given my reasons to the public, which I here dare you 
 to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your 
 Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of your 
 morals inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, 
 but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will. 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 Mr. Macpherson little knew the character of Dr. Johnson, 
 if he supposed that he could be easily intimidated; for no 
 man was ever more remarkable for personal courage. He 
 had, indeed, an awful dread of death, or rather, "of some- 
 thing after death; " and what rational man, who seriously 
 thinks of quitting all that he has ever known, and going into a 
 new and unknown state of being, can be without that dread? 
 But his fear was from reflection; his courage natural. His 
 fear, in that one instance, was the result of philosophical and 
 religious consideration. He feared death, but he feared 
 nothing else, not even what might occasion death. Many 
 instances of his resolution may be mentioned. One day, at 
 Mr. Beauclerk's house in the country, when two large dogs 
 were fighting, he went up to them, and beat them till they 
 separated; and at another time, when told of the danger 
 there was that a gun might burst if charged with many balls, 
 he put in six or seven and fired it off against a wall. Mr. 
 Langton told me, that when they were swimming together 
 near Oxford, he cautioned Dr. Johnson against a pool, which 
 was reckoned particularly dangerous; upon which Johnson 
 directly swam into it. He told me himself that one night he 
 
130 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 was attacked in the street by four men, to whom he would not 
 yield, but kept them all at bay, till the watch came up, and 
 carried both him and them to the round house. In the play- 
 house at Lichfield, as Mr. Garrick informed me, Johnson 
 having for a. moment quitted a chair which was placed for 
 him between the side scenes, a gentleman took possession of it, 
 and when Johnson on his return civilly demanded his seat, 
 rudely refused to give it up; upon which Johnson laid hold of 
 it, and tossed him and the chair into the pit. Foote, who so 
 successfully revived the old comedy, by exhibiting living 
 characters, had resolved to imitate Johnson on the stage, 
 expecting great profits from his ridicule of so celebrated a 
 man. Johnson being informed of his intention, and being at 
 dinner at Mr. Thomas Davies's the bookseller, from whom I 
 had the story, he asked Mr. Davies "what was the common 
 price of an oak stick; " and being answered six-pence, "Why, 
 then, Sir, (said he,) give me leave to send your servant to 
 purchase me a shilling one. I'll have a double quantity; for 
 I am told Foote means to take me off, as he calls it, and I am 
 determined the fellow shall not do it with impunity." Davies 
 took care to acquaint Foote of this, which effectually checked 
 the wantonness of the mimic. Mr. Macpherson's menaces 
 made Johnson provide himself with the same implement of 
 defence; and had he been attacked, I have no doubt #iat, 
 old as he was, he would have made his corporal prowess be 
 felt as much as his intellectual. 
 
 His Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland is a 
 most valuable performance. It abounds in extensive phil- 
 osophical views of society, and in ingenious sentiment and 
 lively description. A considerable part of it, indeed, consists 
 of speculations, which many years before he saw the wild 
 regions which we visited together, probably had employed 
 his attention, though the actual sight of those scenes un- 
 doubtedly quickened and augmented them. Mr. Orme, the 
 very able historian, agreed with me in this opinion, which he 
 thus strongly expressed: — "There are in that book thoughts, 
 which, by long revolution in the great mind of Johnson, have 
 been formed and polished like pebbles rolled in the oceali!" 
 
DR. JOHNSON IN HIS TRAVELLING DRESS 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON" 131 
 
 That he was to some degree of excess a true-born English- 
 man, so as to have entertained an undue prejudice against 
 both the country and the people of Scotland, must be allowed. 
 But it was a prejudice of the head and not of the heart. He 
 had no ill will to the Scotch ; for, if he had been conscious of 
 that he never would have thrown himself into the bosom of 
 their country, and trusted to the protection of its remote in- 
 habitants with a fearless confidence. His remark upon the 
 nakedness of the country, from its being denuded of trees, was 
 made after having travelled two hundred miles along the 
 Eastern coast, where certainly trees are not to be found near 
 the road; and he said it was "a map of the road" which he 
 gave. His disbelief of the authenticity of the poems ascribed 
 to Ossian, a Highland bard, was confirmed in the course of 
 his journey, by a very strict examination of the evidence 
 offered for it; and although their authenticity was made too 
 much a national point by the Scotch, there were many re- 
 spectable persons in that country, who did not concur in 
 this: so that his judgment upon the question ought not to be 
 decried, even by those who differ from him. 
 
 The doubts which, in my correspondence with him, I had 
 ventured to state as to the justice and wisdom of the conduct 
 of Great Britain towards the American colonies, while I at 
 the same time requested that he would enable me to inform 
 myself upon that momentous subject, he had altogether dis- 
 regarded; and had recently published a pamphlet, entitled 
 Taxation no Tyranny; an answer to the Resolutions and 
 Address of the American Congress. 
 
 He had long before indulged most unfavorable sentiments 
 of our fellow subjects in America. For, as early as 1769, I 
 was told by Dr. John Campbell, that he had said of them, 
 "Sir, they are a race of convicts, and ought to be thankful 
 for anything we allow them short of hanging/ ' 
 
 Of this performance I avoided to talk with him; for I had 
 now formed a clear and settled opinion, that the people of 
 America were well warranted to resist a claim that their 
 fellow-subjects in the mother country should have the entire 
 command of their fortunes, by taxing them without their 
 
132 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 own consent; and the extreme violence which it breathed 
 appeared to me so unsuitable to the mildness of a Christian 
 philosopher, and so directly opposite to the principles of 
 peace which he had so beautifully recommended in his pam- 
 phlet respecting Falkland's Islands, that I was sorry to see 
 him appear in so unfavorable a light. Besides, I could not 
 perceive in it that ability of argument, or that felicity of 
 expression, for which he was, upon other occasions, so emi- 
 nent. Positive assertion, sarcastical severity, and extrava- 
 gant ridicule, which he himself reprobated as a test of truth, 
 were united in this rhapsody. 
 
 That this pamphlet was written at the desire of those who 
 were then in power, I have no doubt; and, indeed, he owned 
 to me, that it had been revised and curtailed by some of them. 
 He told me, that they had struck out one passage, which was 
 to this effect: "That the Colonists could with no solidity 
 argue from their not having been taxed while in their infancy, 
 that they should not now be taxed. We do not put a calf 
 into the plow; we wait till he is an ox." He said, "They 
 struck it out either critically as too ludicrous, or politically 
 as too exasperating. I care not which. It was their business. 
 If an architect says, I will build five stories, and the man who 
 employs him says, I will have only three, the employer is 
 to decide." "Yes, Sir, (said I,) in ordinary cases. But should 
 it be so when the architect gives his skill and labor gratis!" 
 
 On Monday, March 27, I breakfasted with him at Mr. 
 Strahan's. Mr. Strahan had taken a poor boy from the 
 country as an apprentice, upon Johnson's recommendation. 
 Johnson having enquired after him, said, "Mr. Strahan, let 
 me have five guineas on account, and FU give this boy one. 
 Nay, if a man recommends a boy, and does nothing for him, 
 it is sad w r ork. Call him down." 
 
 I followed him into the court-yard, behind Mr. Strahan's 
 house ; and there I had a proof of what I had heard him pro- 
 fess, that he talked alike to all. "Some people tell you that 
 they let themselves down to the capacity of their hearers. I 
 never do that. I speak uniformly, in as intelligible a manner 
 as I can." 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 133 
 
 "Well, my boy, how do you go on?" — " Pretty well, Sir; 
 but they are afraid I an't strong enough for some parts of the 
 business." Johnson. "Why, I shall be sorry for it, for 
 when you consider with how little mental power and corporeal 
 labor a printer can get a guinea a week, it is a very desirable 
 occupation for you. Do you hear — take all the pains you 
 can; and if this does not do, we must think of some other way 
 of life for you. There's a guinea." 
 
 Here was one of the many, many instances of his active 
 benevolence. At the same time, the slow and sonorous 
 solemnity with which, while be bent himself down, he ad- 
 dressed a little thick short-legged boy, contrasted with the 
 boy's awkwardness and awe, could not but excite some 
 ludicrous emotions. 
 
 I cannot too frequently request of my readers, while they 
 peruse my account of Johnson's conversation, to endeavor 
 to keep in mind his deliberate and strong utterance. His 
 mode of speaking was indeed very impressive; and I wish it 
 could be preserved as music is written, according to the very 
 ingenious method of Mr. Steele, who has shown how the 
 recitation of Mr. Garrick, and other eminent speakers, might 
 be transmitted to posterity in score. 
 
 On Friday, March 31, I supped with him and some friends 
 at a tavern. One of the company attempted, with too much 
 forwardness, to rally him on his late appearance at the theatre; 
 but had reason to repent of his temerity. "Why, Sir, did 
 you go to Mrs. Abington's benefit? Did you see?" Johnson. 
 "No, Sir." "Did you hear?" Johnson. "No, Sir." "Why 
 then, Sir, did you go?" Johnson. "Because, Sir, she is a fa- 
 vorite of the public; and when the public cares the thousandth 
 part for you that it does for her, I will go to your benefit too." 
 
 Next morning I won a small bet from Lady Diana Beau- 
 clerk, by asking him as to one of his particularities, which her 
 Ladyship laid I durst not do. It seems he had been fre- 
 quently observed at the club to put into his pocket the Seville 
 oranges, after he had squeezed the juice of them into the drink 
 which he made for himself. Beauclerk and Garrick talked 
 of it to me, and seemed to think that he had a strange uu- 
 
134 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 willingness to be discovered. We could not divine what he 
 did with them ; and this was the bold question to be put. I 
 saw on his table the spoils of the preceding night, some fresh 
 peels nicely scraped and cut into pieces. "0, Sir, (said I,) I 
 now partly see what you do with the squeezed oranges which 
 you put into your pocket at the Club." Johnson. "I have a 
 great love for them." Bos well. "And pray, Sir, what do 
 you do with them? You scrape them it seems, very neatly, 
 and what next?" Johnson. "Let them dry, Sir." Bos- 
 well. "And what next?" Johnson. "Nay, Sir, you shall 
 know their fate no further." Boswell. "Then the world 
 must be left in the dark. It must be said (assuming a mock 
 solemnity,) he scraped them and let them dry, but what he 
 did with them next, he never could be prevailed upon to tell." 
 Johnson. " Nay, Sir, you should say it more emphatically : — 
 he could not be prevailed upon, even by his dearest friends, 
 to tell." 
 
 I talked of the cheerfulness of Fleet-street, owing to the 
 constant quick succession of people which we perceive passing 
 through it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, Fleet-street has a very 
 animated appearance; but I think the full tide of human 
 existence is at Charing Cross." 
 
 Friday, April 7, I dined with him at a Tavern, with a 
 numerous company. Patriotism having become one of our 
 topics, Johnson suddenly uttered, in a strong determined 
 tone, an apophthegm, at which many will start: "Patriotism 
 is the last refuge of a scoundrel." But let it be considered, 
 that he did not mean a real and generous love of our country, 
 but that pretended patriotism which so many, in all ages and 
 countries, have made a cloak for self-interest. I maintained, 
 that certainly all patriots were not scoundrels. Being urged, 
 (not by Johnson) to name one exception, I mentioned an 
 eminent person, whom we all greatly admired. Johnson. 
 "Sir, I do not say that he is not honest; but we have no reason 
 to conclude from his political conduct that he is honest. 
 Were he to accept a place from this ministry he would lose 
 that character of firmness which he has, and might be turned 
 out of his place in a year." 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 135 
 
 On Tuesday, April 18, he and I were engaged to go with 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds to dine with Mr. Cambridge, at his 
 beautiful villa on the banks of the Thames, near Twickenham. 
 Dr. Johnson's tardiness was such, that Sir Joshua, who had 
 an appointment at Richmond, early in the day, was obliged 
 to go by himself on horseback, leaving his coach to Johnson 
 and me. Johnson was in such good spirits, that everything 
 seemed to please him as we drove along. 
 
 As a curious instance how little a man knows, or wishes to 
 know his own character in the world, or, rather as a convincing 
 proof that Johnson's roughness was only external, and did not 
 proceed from his heart, I insert the following dialogue. John- 
 son. "It is wonderful, Sir, how rare a quality good humor is 
 in life. We meet with very few good-humored men." I men- 
 tioned four of our friends, none of whom he would allow to be 
 good-humored. One was acid, another was muddy, and to 
 the others he had objections which have escaped me. Then, 
 shaking his head and stretching himself at ease in the coach, 
 and smiling with much complacency, he turned to me and 
 said, "I look upon myself as a good-humored fellow." The 
 epithet fellow, applied to the great Lexicographer, the stately 
 Moralist, the Masterly Critic, as if he had been Sam Johnson, 
 a mere pleasant companion, was highly diverting; and this 
 light notion of himself struck me with wonder. I answered, 
 also smiling, "No, no, Sir; that will not do. You are good- 
 natured, but not good-humored: you are irascible. You 
 have not patience with folly and absurdity. I believe you 
 would pardon them, if there were time to deprecate your 
 vengeance; but punishment follows so quick after sentence, 
 that they cannot escape." 
 
 Johnson praised The Spectator, particularly the character 
 cf Sir Roger de Coverley. He said, "Sir Roger did not die a 
 violent death, as has been generally fancied. He was not 
 killed; he died only because others were to die, and because 
 his death afforded an opportunity to Addison for some very 
 fine writing. We have the example of Cervantes making 
 Don Quixote die. I never could see why Sir Roger is repre- 
 sented as a little cracked. It appears to me that the story of 
 
136 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 the widow was intended to have something superinduced 
 upon it; but the superstructure did not come." 
 
 I passed many hours with him on the 17th, of which I find 
 all my memorial is, "much laughing." It should seem he 
 had that day been in a humor for jocularity and merri- 
 ment, and upon such occasions I never knew a man laugh 
 more heartily. We may suppose, that the high relish of a 
 state so different from his habitual gloom produced more 
 than ordinary exertions of that distinguishing faculty of man, 
 which has puzzled philosophers so much to explain. John- 
 son's laugh was as remarkable as any circumstance in his 
 manner. It was a kind of good-humored growl. Tom 
 Davies described it drolly enough: "He laughs like a 
 rhinoceros." 
 
 " To Bennet Langton, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I have an old amanuensis in great distress. I have given 
 what I think I can give, and begged till I cannot tell where to 
 beg again. I put into his hand this morning four guineas. 
 If you could collect three guineas more, it would clear him 
 from his present difficulty. I am, Sir, 
 
 "Your most humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 11 May 21, 1775." 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I make no doubt but you are now safely lodged in your 
 own habitation, and have told all your adventures to Mrs. 
 Boswell and Miss Veronica. Pray teach Veronica to love me. 
 Bid her not mind mamma. 
 
 "Mrs. Thrale has taken cold, and been very much dis- 
 ordered, but I hope is grown well. Mr. Langton went yester- 
 day to Lincolnshire, and has invited Nicolaida to follow him. 
 Beauclerk talks of going to Bath. I am to set out on Monday; 
 so there is nothing but dispersion. 
 
 "I have returned Lord Hailes's entertaining sheets, but 
 
Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 137 
 
 must stay till I come back for more, because it will be incon- 
 venient to send them after me in my vagrant state. 
 
 "I promised Mrs. Macaulay that I would try to serve her 
 son at Oxford. I have not forgotten it, nor am unwilling to 
 perform it. If they desire to give him an English education, 
 it should be considered whether they cannot send him for a 
 year or two to an English school. If he comes immediately 
 from Scotland, he can make no figure in our Universities. 
 The schools in the north, I believe, are cheap; and when I 
 was a young man, were eminently good. 
 
 " There are two little books published by the Foulis, Tele- 
 machus and Collins's Poems, each a shilling; I would be glad 
 to have them. 
 
 "Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, though she does 
 not love me. You see what perverse things ladies are, and 
 how little to be trusted with feudal estates. When she mends 
 and loves me, there may be more hope of her daughters. 
 
 "I will not send compliments to my friends by name, be- 
 cause I would be loath to leave any out in the enumeration. 
 Tell them, as 3^ou see them, how well I speak of Scotch 
 politeness, and Scotch hospitality, and Scotch beauty, and of 
 every thing Scotch, but Scotch oat-cakes, and Scotch prej- 
 udices. 
 
 "Let me know the answer of Rasay, and the decision re- 
 lating to Sir Allan. I am, my dearest Sir, with great affec- 
 tion, 
 
 "Your most obliged and 
 
 "Most humble servant, 
 "May 27, 1775." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 11 My dear Sir, 
 
 "I now write to you, lest in some of your freaks and hu- 
 mors you should fancy yourself neglected. Such fancies I 
 must entreat you never to admit, at least never to indulge; 
 for my regard for you is so radicated and fixed, that it is be- 
 come part of my mind and cannot be effaced but by some 
 cause uncommonly violent; therefore, whether I write or not, 
 
138 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 
 
 set your thoughts at rest. I now write to tell you that I shall 
 not very soon write again, for I am to set out to-morrow on 
 another journey. 
 
 "Your friends are all well at Streatham, and in Leicester- 
 fields. Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, if she is in 
 good humor with me. 
 
 "I am, Sir, &c. 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "September 14, 1775." 
 
 What he mentions in such light terms as, "I am to set out 
 to-morrow on another journey/' I soon afterwards discovered 
 was no less than a tour to France with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. 
 This was the only time in his life that he went upon the 
 Continent. 
 
 When I met him in London the following year, the account 
 which he gave me of his French tour, was, "Sir, I have seen 
 all the visibilities of Paris, and around it; but to have formed 
 an acquaintance with the people there would have required 
 more time than I could stay." 
 
 He observed, "The great in France live very magnificently, 
 but the rest very miserably. There is no happy middle state 
 as in England. The shops of Paris are mean ; the meat in the 
 markets is such as would be sent to a gaol in England; and 
 Mr. Thrale justly observed, that the cookery of the French 
 was forced upon them by necessity; for they could not eat 
 their meat, unless they added some taste to it. The French 
 are an indelicate people; they will spit upon any place. At 
 
 Madam 's, a literary lady of rank, the footman took 
 
 the sugar in his fingers, and threw it into my coffee. I was 
 going to put it aside ; but hearing it was made on purpose for 
 me, I e'en tasted Tom's fingers. The same lady would needs 
 make tea a VAnglaise. The spout of the tea-pot did not pour 
 freely; she bade the footman blow into it. France is worse 
 than Scotland in everything but climate. Nature has done 
 more for the French; but they have done less for themselves 
 than the Scotch have done." 
 
 Here let me not forget a curious anecdote, as related to me 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 139 
 
 by Mr. Beauclerk, which I shall endeavor to exhibit as well as 
 I can in that gentleman's lively manner; and in justice to 
 him it is proper to add, that Dr. Johnson told me I might rely 
 both on the correctness of his memory and the fidelity of his 
 narrative. " When Madame de Boufflers was first in England, 
 (said Beauclerk,) she was desirous to see Johnson. I accord- 
 ingly went with her to his chambers in the Temple, where she 
 was entertained with his conversation for some time. When 
 our visit was over, she and I left him, and were got into Inner 
 Temple-lane, when all at once I heard a noise like thunder. 
 This was occasioned by Johnson, w T ho it seems, upon a little 
 recollection, had taken it into his head that he ought to have 
 done the honors of his literary residence to a foreign lady of 
 quality, and eager to show himself a man of gallantry, was 
 hurrying down the stair-case in violent agitation. He over- 
 took us before we reached the Temple gate, and brushing in 
 between me and Madame de Boufflers, seized her hand, and 
 conducted her to her coach. His dress was a rusty brown 
 morning-suit, a pair of old shoes by way of slippers, a little 
 shrivelled wig sticking on the top of his head, and the sleeves 
 of his shirt and the knees of his breeches hanging loose. A 
 considerable crowd of people gathered round, and were not a 
 little struck by this singular appearance/' 
 
CHAPTER X (1776) 
 
 Johnson on Tour and in London: His Meeting 
 With Wilkes 
 
 Johnson's Removal — Johnson on Life at Sea — On Extraordi- 
 nary Characters — On the Felicities of Taverns — At Birmingham 
 — Boswell on the Use of Oats — The Wide Circle of Johnson's 
 Acquaintances — Johnson on Thomson — On the Use of Wine — 
 On his Rambler Papers — On Reading — Boswell Endeavors to 
 Bring Johnson and John Wilkes Together — Sudden Obstacles — 
 The Meeting of the Great Conservative and the Great Radical — 
 Mr. Wilkes is Polite at Dinner — Johnson Unbends and Talks — 
 On Foote — On Garrick — On Writing Biographies — On Cibber — 
 On the Scotch — Dr. Johnson's Civility and Courtesy. 
 
 Having arrived in London late on Friday, the 15th of 
 March, I hastened next morning to wait on Dr. Johnson, 
 at his house; but found he was removed from Johnson's- 
 court, No. 7, to Bolt-court, No. 8, still keeping to his favorite 
 Fleet-street. My reflection at the time upon this change 
 as marked in my journal is as follows: "I felt a foolish regret 
 that he had left a court which bore his name; but it was not 
 foolish to be affected with some tenderness of regard for a 
 place in which I had seen him a great deal, from whence 
 I had often issued a better and a happier man than when I 
 went in, and which had often appeared to my imagination 
 while I trod its pavements, in the solemn darkness of the 
 night, to be sacred to wisdom and piety." Being informed 
 that he was at Mr. Thrale's in the Borough, I hastened 
 thither, and found Mrs. Thrale and him at breakfast. I was 
 kindly welcomed. In a moment he was in a full glow of 
 conversation, and I felt myself elevated as if brought into 
 another state of being. Mrs. Thrale and I looked to each 
 other while he talked, and our looks expressed our congenial 
 admiration and affection for him. I shall ever recollect this 
 scene with great pleasure. I exclaimed to her, "I am now 
 intellectually, Hermippus redivivus, I am quite restored by 
 
 140 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 141 
 
 him, by transfusion of mind." " There are many (she re- 
 plied,) who admire and respect Mr. Johnson; but you and I 
 love him." 
 
 He seemed very happy in the near prospect of going to 
 Italy with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. "But, (said he,) before 
 leaving England I am to take a jaunt to Oxford, Birmingham, 
 my native city Lichfield, and my old friend, Dr. Taylor's, 
 at Ashbourne, in Derbyshire. I shall go in a few days, and 
 you, Bos well, shall go with me." I was ready to accompany 
 him ; being willing even to leave London to have the pleasure 
 of his conversation. 
 
 I again visited him on Monday. He took occasion to en- 
 large, as he often did, upon the wretchedness of a sea life. 
 "A ship is worse than a gaol. There is, in a gaol, better 
 air, better company, better conveniency of every kind; 
 and a ship has the additional disadvantage of being in danger. 
 When men come to like a sea life, they are not fit to live on 
 land." — "Then (said I,) it would be cruel in a father to 
 breed his son to the sea." Johnson. "It would be cruel 
 in a father who thinks as I do. Men go to sea, before they 
 know the unhappiness of that way of life; and when they 
 have come to know it, they cannot escape from it, because 
 it is then too late to choose another profession; as indeed is 
 generally the case with men when they have once engaged 
 in any particular way of life." 
 
 On Tuesday, March 19, which was fixed for one proposed 
 jaunt, we met in the morning at the Somerset coffee-house 
 in the Strand, where we were taken up by the Oxford coach. 
 I expressed a des : re to be acquainted with a lady who had 
 been much talked of, and universally celebrated for extraor- 
 dinary address and insinuation. Johnson. "Never believe 
 extraordinary characters which you hear of people. Depend 
 upon it, Sir, they are exaggerated. You do not see one 
 man shoot a great deal higher than another." I mentioned 
 Mr. Burke. Johnson. "Yes; Burke is an extraordinary 
 man. His stream of mind is perpetual," It is very pleasing 
 to me to record, that Johnson's high estimation of the talents 
 of this gentleman was uniform from their early acquaintance. 
 
142 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds informs me, that when Mr. Burke was 
 first elected a member of Parliament, and Sir John Hawkins 
 expressed a wonder at his attaining a seat, Johnson said, 
 "Now we who know Mr. Burke, know, that he will be one 
 of the first men in the country." And once, when Johnson 
 was ill, and unable to exert himself as much as usual without 
 fatigue, Mr. Burke having been mentioned, he said, "That 
 fellow calls forth all my powers. Were I to see Burke now 
 it would kill me." So much was he accustomed to consider 
 conversation as a contest, and such was his notion of Burke 
 as an opponent. 
 
 We dined at an excellent inn at Chapel House, where he 
 expatiated on the felicity of England in its taverns and inns, 
 and triumphed over the French for not having, in any per- 
 fection, the tavern life. "There is no private house, (said 
 he,) in which people can enjoy themselves so well, as at a 
 capital tavern. Let there be ever so great plenty of good 
 things, ever so much grandeur, ever so much elegance, ever 
 so much desire that everybody should be easy; in the nature 
 of things it cannot be: there must always be some degree of 
 care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to 
 entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable 
 to him; and no man, but a very impudent dog indeed, can 
 as freely command what is in another man's house, as if it 
 were his own. Whereas, at a tavern, there is a general 
 freedom from anxiety. You are sure you are welcome: 
 and the more noise you make, the more trouble you give, 
 the more good things you call for, the welcomer you are. 
 No servants will attend you with the alacrity which waiters 
 do, who are incited by the prospect of an immediate reward 
 in proportion as they please. No, Sir; there is nothing 
 which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much 
 happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn." He then 
 repeated, with great emotion, Shenstone's lines: 
 
 "Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, 
 Where'er his stages may have been, 
 May sigh to think he still has found 
 The warmest welcome at an inn:'" 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 143 
 
 I wished to have stayed at Birmingham to-night, to have 
 talked more with Mr. Hector; but my friend was impatient 
 to reach his native city; so we drove on that stage in the dark, 
 and were long pensive and silent. When we came within 
 the focus of the Lichfield lamps, "Now (said he,) we are 
 getting out of a state of death.'' We put up at the Three 
 Crowns, not one of the great inns, but a good old-fashioned 
 one, which was kept by Mr. Wilkins, and was the very next 
 house to that in which Johnson was born and brought up, 
 and which was still his own property. We had a comfort- 
 able supper, and got into high spirits. I felt all my Toryism 
 glow in this old capital of Staffordshire. I could have offered 
 incense genio loci; 1 and I indulged in libations of that ale 
 which, Boniface, in The Beaux 1 Stratagem, recommends with 
 such an eloquent jollity. 
 
 I saw here, for the first time, oat ale; and oat cakes, not 
 hard as in Scotland, but soft like a Yorkshire cake, were 
 served at breakfast. It was pleasant to me to find, that 
 "Oats," the "food of horses ," were so much used as the "food 
 of the people" in Dr. Johnson's own town. He expatiated in 
 praise of Lichfield and its inhabitants, who, he said, were "the 
 most sober, decent people in England, the genteelest in propor- 
 tion to their wealth, and spoke the purest English." I doubted 
 as to the last article of this eulogy; for they had several 
 provincial sounds; as there, pronounced like fear, instead of 
 like fair; once, pronounced woonse, instead of wunse, or wonse. 
 Johnson himself never got entirely free of those provincial 
 accents. Garrick sometimes used to take him off, squeezing a 
 lemon into a punch-bowl, with uncouth gesticulation, looking 
 round the company, and calling out, "Who's for poonshV 1 
 
 Having lain at St. Alban's, on Thursday, March 28, we 
 breakfasted the next morning at Barnet. I enjoyed the 
 luxury of our approach to London, that metropolis which 
 we both loved so much, for the high and varied intellectual 
 pleasure which it furnishes. We stopped at Messieurs Dilly, 
 booksellers in the Poultry; from whence he hurried away 
 in a hackney coach, to Mr. Thrale's in the Borough. 
 1 To the genius of the place. 
 
144 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 On Wednesday, April 3, in the morning I found him very 
 busy putting his books in order, and as they were generally 
 very old ones, clouds of dust were flying around him. He 
 had on a pair of large gloves such as hedgers use. His pres- 
 ent appearance put me in mind of my uncle, Dr. BoswelPs 
 description of him, "A robust genius, born to grapple with 
 whole libraries/ ' 
 
 When I expressed an earnest wish for his remarks on Italy, 
 he said, "I do not see that I could make a book upon Italy; 
 yet I should be glad to get two hundred pounds, or five hun- 
 dred pounds, by such a work." This showed both that a 
 journal of his Tour upon the Continent was not wholly out 
 of his contemplation, and that he uniformly adhered to that 
 strange opinion which his indolent disposition made him 
 utter: "No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for 
 money." Numerous instances to refute this will occur to 
 all who are versed in the history of literature. 
 
 It was a very remarkable circumstance about Johnson, 
 whom shallow observers have supposed to have been ignorant 
 of the world, that very few men had seen greater variety of 
 characters; and none could observe them better, as was 
 evident from the strong, yet nice portraits which he often 
 drew. I have frequently thought that if he had made out 
 what the French call une catalogue raisonne 1 of all the people 
 who had passed under his observation, it would have afforded 
 a very rich fund of instruction and entertainment. The 
 suddenness with which his accounts of some of them started 
 out in conversation was not less pleasing than surprising. 
 I remember he once observed to me, "It is wonderful, Sir, 
 what is to be found in London. The most literary conver- 
 sation I ever enjoyed was at the table of Jack Ellis, a money- 
 scrivener behind the Royal Exchange, with whom I at one 
 period used to dine generally once a week." 
 
 Volumes would be required to contain a list of his numerous 
 
 and various acquaintance, none of whom he ever forgot ; and 
 
 could describe and discriminate them all with precision and 
 
 vivacity. He associated with persons the most widely differ- 
 
 1 A systematic catalogue. 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 145 
 
 ent in manners, abilities, rank, and accomplishments. He 
 was at once the companion of the brilliant Colonel Forrester 
 of the Guards, who wrote The Polite Philosopher, and of the 
 awkward and uncouth Robert Levett; of Lord Thurlow, and 
 Mr. Sastres, the Italian master; and has dined one day with 
 the beautiful, gay, and fascinating Lady Craven, and the next 
 with good Mrs. Gardiner, the tallow-chandler, on Snowhill. 
 
 We spent the evening at Mr. Hoole's. Mr. Mickle, the 
 excellent translator of The Lusiad, was there. I have pre- 
 served little of the conversation of this evening. Dr. Johnson 
 said, " Thomson had a true poetical genius, the power of 
 viewing everything in a poetical light. His fault is such a 
 cloud of words sometimes, that the sense can hardly peep 
 through. Shiels, who compiled Gibber's Lives of the Poets, 
 was one day sitting with me. I took down Thomson, and 
 read aloud a large portion of him, and then asked, — 'Is 
 not this fine?' Shiels having expressed the highest admira- 
 tion, 'Well, Sir, (said I,) I have omitted every other line.'" 
 
 Johnson and I supped this evening at the Crown and Anchor 
 tavern, in company with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Langton, 
 Mr. Nairne, now one of the Scotch Judges, with the title of 
 Lord Dunsinan, and my very worthy friend, Sir William 
 Forbes, of Pitsligo. 
 
 We discussed the question, whether drinking improved 
 conversation and benevolence. Sir Joshua maintained it did. 
 Johnson. "No, Sir, before dinner men meet with great 
 inequality of understanding; and those who are conscious 
 of their inferiority have the modesty not to talk. When 
 they have drunk wine, every man feels himself happy, and \ 
 loses that modesty, and grows impudent and vociferous: 
 but he is not improved: he is only not sensible of his defects." 
 Sir Joshua said the Doctor was talking of the effects of I 
 excess in wine; but that a moderate glass enlivened the 
 mind, by giving a proper circulation to the blood. "I am, 
 (said he,) in very good spirits, when I get up in the morning. 
 By dinner-time I am exhausted; wine puts me in the same 
 state as when I got up : and I am sure that moderate drinking 
 makes people talk better." Johnson. "No, Sir; wine gives 
 
146 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 not light, gay, ideal hilarity; but tumultuous, noisy, clam- 
 orous merriment. I have heard none of those drunken, — nay, 
 drunken is a coarse word, — none of those vinous flights/ ' 
 Sir Joshua. " Because you have sat by, quite sober, and felt 
 an envy of the happiness of those who were drinking." John- 
 son. " Perhaps, contempt. — And, Sir, it is not necessary 
 to be drunk one's self, to relish the wit of drunkenness. Do 
 we not judge of the drunken wit of the dialogue between 
 Iago and Cassio, the most excellent in its kind, when we are 
 quite sober? Wit is wit, by whatever means it is produced; 
 and, if good, will appear so at all times. I admit that the 
 spirits are raised by drinking, as by the common participa- 
 tion of any pleasure: cock-fighting, or bear-baiting, will 
 raise the spirits of a company, as drinking does, though 
 surely they will not improve conversation. I also admit, 
 that there are some sluggish men who are improved by drink- 
 ing; as there are fruits which are not good till they are rotten. 
 There are such men, but they are medlars. I indeed allow 
 that there have been a very few men of talents who were 
 improved by drinking; but I maintain that I am right as 
 to the effects of drinking in general: and let it be considered, 
 that there is no position, however false in its universality, 
 which is not true of some particular man." Sir William 
 Forbes said, " Might not a man warmed with wine be like 
 a bottle of beer, which is made brisker by being set before 
 the fire?" "Nay, (said Johnson, laughing,) I cannot answer 
 that: that is too much for me." 
 
 He told us, "almost all his Ramblers were written just as 
 they were wanted for the press; that he sent a certain portion 
 of the copy of an essay, and wrote the remainder, while the 
 former part of it was printing. When it was wanted, and 
 he had fairly sat down to it, he was sure it would be done." 
 
 He said, that for general improvement, a man should 
 read whatever his immediate inclination prompts him to; 
 though to be sure, if a man has a science to learn, he must 
 regularly and resolutely advance. He added, "What we 
 read with inclination makes a much stronger impression. 
 If we read without inclination, half the mind is employed in 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 147 
 
 fixing the attention; so there is but one half to be employed 
 on what we read." He told us, he read Fielding's Amelia 
 through without stopping. He said, "If a man begins to 
 read in the middle of a book, and^ feels an inclination to go 
 on, let him not quit it, to go to the beginning. He may per- 
 haps not feel again the inclination." 
 
 I am now to record a very curious incident in Dr. Johnson's 
 life, which fell under my own observation; of which pars 
 magna fui, 1 and which I am persuaded will, with the liberal- 
 minded, be much to his credit. 
 
 My desire of being acquainted with celebrated men of 
 every description had made me, much about the same time, 
 obtain an introduction to Dr. Samuel Johnson and to John 
 Wilkes, Esq. Two men more different could perhaps not 
 be selected out of all mankind. They had even attacked 
 one another with some asperity in their writings; yet I lived 
 in habits of friendship with both. I could fully relish the 
 excellence of each; for I have ever delighted in that intel- 
 lectual chemistry which can separate good qualities from 
 evil in the same person. 
 
 Sir John Pringle, "mine own friend and my Father's 
 friend," between whom and Dr. Johnson I in vain wished 
 to establish an acquaintance, as I respected and lived in 
 intimacy with both of them, observed to me once, very 
 ingeniously, "It is not in friendship as in mathematics, where 
 two things, each equal to a third, are equal between them- 
 selves. You agree with Johnson as a middle quality, and 
 you agree with me as a middle quality; but Johnson and I 
 should not agree." Sir John was not sufficiently flexible; 
 so I desisted ; knowing, indeed, that the repulsion was equally 
 strong on the part of Johnson; who, I know not from what 
 cause, unless his being a Scotchman, had formed a very 
 erroneous opinion of Sir John. But I conceived an irresist- 
 ible wish, if possible, to bring Dr. Johnson and Mr. Wilkes 
 together. How to manage it, was a nice and difficult matter. 
 
 My worthy booksellers and friends, Messieurs Dilly in the 
 Poultry, at whose hospitable and well-covered table I have 
 I played a great rule, from Virgil's Aeneid, ii, 6. J 
 
148 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 seen a greater number of literary men than at any other 
 except that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, had invited me to meet 
 Mr. Wilkes and some more gentlemen, on Wednesday, May 
 15. "Pray (said I,) let us have Dr. Johnson/' — "What, 
 with Mr. Wilkes? not for the world, (said Mr. Edward Dilly;) 
 Dr. Johnson would never forgive me." — Come, (said I,) if 
 you'll let me negotiate for you, I will be answerable that all 
 shall go well." Dilly. "Nay, if you will take it upon you, 
 I am sure I shall be very happy to see them both here." 
 
 Notwithstanding the high veneration which I entertained 
 for Dr. Johnson, I was sensible that he was sometimes a 
 little actuated by the spirit of contradiction, and by means 
 of that I hoped I should gain my point. I was persuaded 
 that if I had come upon him with a direct proposal, "Sir, 
 will you dine in company with Jack Wilkes?" he would have 
 flown into a passion, and would probably have answered, 
 "Dine with Jack Wilkes, Sir! I'd as soon dine with Jack 
 Ketch." I therefore, while we were sitting quietly by our- 
 selves at his house in an evening, took occasion to open my 
 plan thus: "Mr. Dilly, Sir, sends his respectful compliments 
 to you, and would be happy if you would do him the honor 
 to dine with him on Wednesday next along with me, as I 
 must soon go to Scotland." Johnson. "Sir, I am obliged 
 to Mr. Dilly. I will wait upon him — " Boswell. "Pro- 
 vided, Sir, I suppose, that the company which he is to have, is 
 agreeable to you." Johnson. "What do you mean, Sir? 
 What do you take me for? Do you think I am so ignorant 
 of the world, as to imagine that I am to prescribe to a gentle- 
 man what company he is to have at his table?" Boswell. 
 "I beg your pardon, Sir, for wishing to prevent you from 
 meeting people whom you might not like. Perhaps he may 
 have some of what he calls his patriotic friends with him." 
 Johnson. "Well, Sir, and what then? What care / for his 
 patriotic friends? Poh!" Boswell. "I should not be sur- 
 prised to find Jack Wilkes there." Johnson. "And if 
 Jack Wilkes should be there, what is that to me, Sir? My 
 dear friend, let us have no more of this. I am sorry to be 
 angry with you; but really it is treating me strangely to 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 149 
 
 talk to me as if I could not meet any company whatever, 
 occasionally. " Boswell. "Pray, forgive me, Sir: I meant 
 well. But you shall meet whoever comes, for me." Thus 
 I secured him, and told Dilly that he would find him very 
 well pleased to be one of his guests on the day appointed. 
 
 Upon the much expected Wednesday. I called on him about 
 half an hour before dinner, as I often did when we were to 
 dine out together, to see that he was ready in time, and to 
 accompany him. I found him buffeting his books, as upon 
 a former occasion, covered with dust, and making no prepa- 
 ration for going abroad. "How is this, Sir? (said I). Don't 
 you recollect that you are to dine at Mr. Dilly's?" Johnson. 
 "Sir, I did not think of going to Dilly's: it went out of my 
 head. I have ordered dinner at home with Mrs. Williams." 
 Boswell. "But, my dear Sir, you know you were engaged 
 to Mr. Dilly, and I told him so. He will expect you, and 
 will be much disappointed if you don't come." Johnson. 
 "You must talk to Mrs. Williams about this." 
 
 Here was a sad dilemma. I feared that what I was so 
 confident I had secured would yet be frustrated. He had 
 accustomed himself to show Mrs. Williams such a degree of 
 humane attention, as frequently imposed some restraint 
 upon him; and I knew that if she should be obstinate, he 
 would not stir. I hastened down stairs to the blind lady's 
 room, and told her I was in great uneasiness, for Dr. Johnson 
 had engaged to me to dine this day at Mr. Dilly's, but that 
 he had told me he had forgotten his engagement, and had 
 ordered dinner at home. "Yes, sir, (said she, pretty peev- 
 ishly,) Dr. Johnson is to dine at home." — "Madam, (said 
 I,) his respect for you is such, that I know he will not leave 
 you, unless you absolutely desire it. But as you have so 
 much of his company, I hope you will be good enough to 
 forego it for a day: as Mr. Dilly is a very worthy man, has 
 frequently had agreeable parties at his house for Dr. Johnson, 
 and will be vexed if the Doctor neglects him to-day. And 
 then, Madam, be pleased to consider my situation; I carried 
 the message, and I assured Mr. Dilly that Dr. Johnson 
 was to come; and no doubt he has made a dinner, and in- 
 
150 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 vited a company, and boasted of the honor he expected to 
 have. I shall be quite disgraced if the Doctor is not there." 
 She gradually softened to my solicitations, which were cer- 
 tainly as earnest as most entreaties to ladies upon any occa- 
 sion, and was graciously pleased to empower me to tell Dr. 
 Johnson, "That all things considered, she thought he should 
 certainly go." I flew back to him, still in dust, and careless 
 of what should be the event, "indifferent in his choice to go 
 or stay;" but as soon as I had announced to him Mrs. Wil- 
 liams's consent, he roared, "Frank, a clean shirt," and was 
 very soon dressed. • When I had him fairly seated in a hackney 
 coach with me, I exulted as much as a fortune-hunter who 
 has got an heiress into a post-chaise with him to set out for 
 Gretna-Green. 
 
 When we entered Mr. Dilly's drawing-room, he found 
 himself in the midst of a company he did not know. I kept 
 myself snug and silent, watching how he would conduct 
 himself. I observed him whispering to Mr. Dilly, "Who 
 is that gentleman, Sir?" — "Mr. Arthur Lee." — Johnson. 
 "Too, too, too" (under his breath), which was one of his 
 habitual mutterings. Mr. Arthur Lee could not but be very 
 obnoxious to Johnson, for he was not only a patriot, but an 
 American. He was afterwards minister from the United 
 States at the court of Madrid. "And who is the gentleman 
 in lace?" — "Mr. Wilkes, Sir." This information con- 
 founded him still more; he had some difficulty to restrain 
 himself, and taking up a book, sat down upon a window-seat 
 and read, or at least kept his eye upon it intently for some 
 time, till he composed himself. His feelings, I dare say, 
 were awkward enough. But he no doubt recollected his 
 having rated me for supposing that he could be at all dis- 
 concerted by any company, and he, therefore, resolutely set 
 himself to behave quite as an easy man of the world, who 
 could adapt himself at once to the disposition and manners 
 of those whom he might chance to meet. 
 
 The cheering sound of "Dinner is upon the table," dis- 
 solved his reverie, and we all sat down without any symptom 
 of ill humor. There were present, beside Mr. Wilkes, and 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 151 
 
 Mr. Arthur Lee, who was an old companion of mine when he 
 studied physic at Edinburgh, Mr. (now Sir John) Miller, 
 Dr. Lettsom, and Mr. Slater, the druggist. Mr. Wilkes 
 placed himself next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him 
 with so much attention and politeness, that he gained upon 
 him insensibly. No man eat more heartily than Johnson, 
 or loved better what was nice and delicate. Mr. Wilkes 
 was very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. "Pray 
 give me leave, Sir : It is better here — A little of the brown 
 
 — Some fat, Sir — A little of the stuffing — Some gravy — ■ 
 Let me have the pleasure of giving you some butter — Allow 
 me to recommend a squeeze of this orange ; — or the lemon, 
 perhaps, may have more zest." — "Sir, Sir, I am obliged 
 to you, Sir," cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head 
 to him with a look for some time of "surly virtue," but, in 
 a short while, of complacency. 
 
 Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, "He is not a good 
 mimic." One of the company added, "A merry Andrew, 
 a buffoon." Johnson. "But he has wit too, and is not 
 deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of imagery, and 
 not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill up 
 his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, 
 that of escape. You drive him into a corner with both 
 hands; but he's gone, Sir, when you think you have got him 
 
 — like an animal that jumps over your head. Then he has 
 a great range for wit; he never lets truth stand between him 
 and a jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick 
 is under many restraints from which Foote is free." Wilkes. 
 "Garrick's wit is more like Lord Chesterfield's." Johnson. 
 "The first time I was in company with Foote was at Fitz- 
 herbert's. Having no good opinion of the fellow, I was 
 resolved not to be pleased; and it is very difficult to please 
 a man against his will. I went on eating my dinner pretty 
 sullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the dog was so 
 very comical, that I was obliged to lay down my knife and 
 fork, throw myself back upon my chair, and fairly laugh it 
 out. No, Sir, he was irresistible. He upon one occasion 
 experienced, in an extraordinary degree, the efficacy of his 
 
152 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 powers of entertaining. Amongst the many and various 
 modes which he tried of getting money, he became a partner 
 with a small-beer brewer, and he was to have a share of the 
 profits for procuring customers amongst his numerous ac- 
 quaintance. Fitzherbert was one who took his small-beer; 
 but it was so bad that the servants resolved not to drink it. 
 They were at some loss how to notify their resolution, being 
 afraid of offending their master, who they knew liked Foote 
 much as a companion. At last they fixed upon a little 
 black boy, who was rather a favorite, to be their deputy, and 
 deliver their remonstrance; and having invested him with 
 the whole authority of the kitchen, he was to inform Mr. 
 Fitzherbert, in all their names, upon a certain day, that they 
 would drink Foote's small-beer no longer. On that day 
 Foote happened to dine at Fitzherbert's, and this boy served 
 at table; he was so delighted with Footers stories, and merri- 
 ment, and grimace, that when he went down stairs, he told 
 them, "This is the finest man I have ever seen. I will not 
 deliver your message. I will drink his small-beer." 
 
 Somebody observed that Garrick could not have done this. 
 Wilkes. " Garrick would have made the small-beer still 
 smaller. He is now leaving the stage; but he will play 
 Scrub all his life." I knew that Johnson would let nobody 
 attack Garrick but himself, as Garrick said to me, and I 
 had heard him praise his liberality; so to bring out his com- 
 mendation of his celebrated pupil, I said loudly, "I have heard 
 Garrick is liberal." Johnson. "Yes, Sir, I know that 
 Garrick has given away more money than any man in Eng- 
 land that I am acquainted with, and that not from osten- 
 tatious views. Garrick was very poor when he began life; 
 so when he came to have money, he probably was very un- 
 skilful in giving away, and saved when he should not. But 
 Garrick began to be liberal as soon as he could; and I am 
 of opinion, the reputation of avarice which he has had has 
 been very lucky for him, and prevented his having many 
 enemies. You despise a man for avarice, but do not hate him. 
 Garrick might have been much better attacked for living 
 with more splendor than is suitable to a player: if they had 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 153 
 
 had the wit to have assaulted him in that quarter, they might 
 have galled him more. But they have kept clamoring 
 about his avarice, which has rescued him from much obloquy 
 and envy." 
 
 Talking of the great difficulty of obtaining authentic infor- 
 mation for biography, Johnson told us, " When I was a young 
 fellow I wanted to write the Life of Dryden, and in order to 
 get materials, I applied to the only two persons then alive 
 who had seen him; these were old Swinne}^ and old Cibber. 
 Swinney's information was no more than this, 'That at 
 Will's coffee-house Dryden had a particular chair for himself, 
 which was set by the fire in winter, and was then called his 
 winter-chair; and that it was carried out for him to the 
 balcony in summer, and was then called his summer-chair.' 
 Cibber could tell no more but 'That he remembered him a 
 decent old man, arbiter of critical disputes at Will's/ You 
 are to consider that Cibber was then at a great distance from 
 Dryden, had perhaps one leg only in the room, and durst not 
 draw in the other/' Boswell. "Yet Cibber was a man of 
 observation?" Johnson. "I think not." Boswell. "You 
 will allow his Apology to be well done." Johnson. "Very 
 well done, to be sure, Sir. That book is a striking proof of 
 the justice of Pope's remark: 
 
 '"Each might his several province well command, 
 Would all but stoop to what they understand. '" 
 
 Boswell. "And his plays are good." Johnson. "Yes; 
 but that was his trade; F esprit de corps; l he had been all 
 his life among players and play- writers. I wondered that 
 he had so little to say in conversation, for he had kept the 
 best company, and learnt all that can be got by the ear. 
 He abused Pindar to me, and then showed me an ode of his 
 own, with an absurd couplet, making a linnet soar on an 
 eagle's wing. I told him that when the ancients made a 
 simile, they always made it like something real." 
 
 Wilkes. "We have no City-Poet now: that is an office 
 which has gone into disuse. The last was Elkanah Settle. 
 1 The common devotion of members to an organization. 
 
154 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 
 
 There is something in names which one cannot help feeling. 
 Now Elkanah Settle sounds so queer, who can expect much 
 from that name? We should have no hesitation to give it 
 for John Dryden, in preference to Elkanah Settle, from the 
 names only, without knowing their different merits." 
 
 Mr. Arthur Lee mentioned some Scotch who had taken 
 possession of a barren part of America, and wondered why 
 they should choose it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, all barren- 
 ness is comparative. The Scotch would not know it to be 
 barren." Boswell. "Come, come, he is flattering the Eng- 
 lish. You have now been in Scotland, Sir, and say if you 
 did not see meat and drink enough there." Johnson. " Why 
 yes, Sir; meat and drink enough to give the inhabitants 
 sufficient strength to run away from home." All these 
 quick and lively sallies were said sportively, quite in jest, 
 and with a smile, which showed that he meant only wit. 
 Upon this topic he and Mr. Wilkes could perfectly assimilate; 
 here was a bond of union between them, and I was conscious 
 that as both of them had visited Caledonia, both were fully 
 satisfied of the strange narrow ignorance of those who imagine 
 that it is a land of famine. But they amused themselves 
 with persevering in the old jokes. 
 
 This record, though by no means so perfect as I could 
 wish, will serve to give a notion of a very curious interview, 
 which was not only pleasing at the time, but had the agree- 
 able and benignant effect of reconciling any animosity and 
 sweetening any acidity, which, in the various bustle of polit- 
 ical contest, had been produced in the minds of two men, 
 who, though widely different, had so many things in common 
 ■ — classical learning, modern literature, wit and humor, 
 and ready repartee — that it would have been much to be 
 regretted if they had been for ever at a distance from each 
 other. 
 
 Mr. Burke gave me much credit for this successful nego- 
 tiation; and pleasantly said, "that there was nothing equal 
 to it in the whole history of the Corps Diplomatique." 
 
 I attended Dr. Johnson home, and had the satisfaction 
 to hear him tell Mrs. Williams how much he had been pleased 
 
Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 155 
 
 with Mr. Wilkes's company, and what an agreeable day he 
 had passed. 
 
 On the evening of the next day I took leave of him, being to 
 set out for Scotland. I thanked him with great warmth for 
 all his kindness. "Sir, (said he,) you are very welcome. 
 Nobody repays it with more." 
 
 How very false is the notion that has gone round the world 
 of the rough, and passionate, and harsh manners of this great 
 and good man. That he had occasional sallies of heat of 
 temper, and that he was sometimes, perhaps, "too easily 
 provoked" by absurdity and folly, and sometimes too desirous 
 of triumph in colloquial contest, must be allowed. The 
 quickness both of his perception and sensibility disposed 
 him to sudden explosions of satire, to which his extraordinary 
 readiness of wit was a strong and almost irresistible incite- 
 ment. To adopt one of the finest images in Mr. Home's 
 Douglas, 
 
 ". . . On each glance of thought 
 Decision followed, as the thunderbolt 
 Pursues the flash!" . . . 
 
 I admit that the beadle^ within him was often so eager to 
 apply the lash, that the Judge had not time to consider the 
 case with sufficient deliberation. 
 
 That he was occasionally remarkable for violence of temper 
 may be granted: but let us ascertain the degree, and not let 
 it be supposed that he was in a perpetual rage, and never 
 without a club in his hand to knock down everyone who 
 approached him. On the contrary, the truth is that by much 
 the greatest part of his time he was civil, obliging, nay, polite 
 in the true sense of the word; so much so, that many gentle- 
 men who were long acquainted with him never received, or 
 even heard a strong expression from him. 
 
CHAPTER XI (1777) 
 The Trip to Ashbourne 
 
 Letters to Bos well — The Inception of The Lives of the English 
 Poets — The Addition of Watts — Johnson and Mrs. Boswell — ■ 
 Boswell Meets Johnson at Ashbourne — On the Archaic Style in 
 Poetry — Johnson's Burlesque Ballad — On Cibber — On Keeping 
 a Bad Table — On Certain English Phrases — Boswell and Johnson 
 Exchange Sentiments of Regard. 
 
 " To Dr. Samuel Johnson. 
 
 " Glasgow, April 24, 1777. 
 "My dear Sir, 
 
 "Our worthy friend Thrale's death having appeared in the 
 newspapers, and been afterwards contradicted, I have been 
 placed in a state of very uneasy uncertainty, from which I 
 hoped to be relieved by you : but my hopes have as yet been 
 vain. How could you omit to write to me on such an occa- 
 sion? I shall wait with anxiety. 
 
 "I am going to Auchinleck to stay a fortnight with my 
 father. It is better not to be there very long at one time. 
 But frequent renewals of attention are agreeable to him. 
 
 "Pray tell me about this edition of The English Poets, with 
 a Preface, biographical and critical, to each Author, by 
 Samuel Johnson, LL.D. which I see advertised. I am de- 
 lighted with the prospect of it. Indeed I am happy to feel 
 that I am capable of being so much delighted with literature. 
 But is not the charm of this publication chiefly owing to the 
 magnum nomen 1 in the front of it? 
 
 "What do you say of Lord Chesterfield's Memoirs and last 
 Letters? 
 
 "My wife has made marmalade of oranges for you. I left 
 her and my daughters and Alexander all well yesterday. I 
 1 The great name. 
 156 
 
Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 157 
 
 have taught Veronica to speak of you thus : — Dr. Johnson, 
 not Johnston. I remain, my dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate, 
 " And obliged humble servant, 
 "James Boswell." 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "The story of Mr. Thrale's death, as he had neither been 
 sick nor in any other danger, made so little impression upon 
 me, that I never thought about obviating its effects on any- 
 body else. It is supposed to have been produced by the 
 English custom of making April fools, that is, of sending one 
 another on some foolish errand on the first of April. 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Boswell that I shall taste her marmalade cau- 
 tiously at first. Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. 1 Beware, 
 says the Italian proverb, of a reconciled enemy. But when 
 I find it does me no harm, I shall then receive it and be thank- 
 ful for it, as a pledge of firm and, I hope, of unalterable kind- 
 ness. She is, after all, a dear, dear lady. 
 
 "Please to return Dr. Blair thanks for his sermons. The 
 Scotch write English wonderfully well. . . . 
 
 "Your frequent visits to Auchinleck, and your short stay 
 there, are very laudable and very judicious. Your present 
 concord with your father gives me great pleasure; it was all 
 that you seemed to want. 
 
 "My health is very bad, and my nights are very unquiet. 
 What can I do to mend them? I have for this summer 
 nothing better in prospect than a journey into Staffordshire 
 and Derbyshire, perhaps with Oxford and Birmingham in my 
 way. 
 
 "Make my compliments to Miss Veronica; I must leave 
 it to her philosophy to comfort you for the loss of little 
 David. You must remember, that to keep three out of four 
 is more than your share. Mrs. Thrale has but four out of 
 eleven. 
 
 1 "I fear the Greeks, even though they come bearing gifts," re- 
 marked a suspicious Trojan in Virgil's Aerteid, ii, 49. 
 
158 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 
 
 "I am engaged to write little Lives, and little Prefaces, to a 
 little edition of The English Poets. I think I have persuaded 
 the booksellers to insert something of Thomson; and if you 
 could give me some information about him, for the Life 
 which we have is very scanty, I should be glad. I am, dear 
 Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate humble servant, 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "May 3, 1777." 
 
 To those who delight in tracing the progress of works of 
 literature, it will be an entertainment to compare the limited 
 design with the ample execution of that admirable perform- 
 ance, The Lives of the English Poets, which is the richest, most 
 beautiful, and indeed most perfect, production of Johnson's 
 pen. His notion of it at this time appears in the preceding 
 letter. He has a memorandum in this year, "29 May, 
 Easter Eve, I treated with booksellers on a bargain, but the 
 time was not long." The bargain was concerning that under- 
 taking; but his tender conscience seems alarmed, lest it 
 should have intruded too much on his devout preparation for 
 the solemnity of the ensuing day. But, indeed, very little 
 time was necessary for Johnson's concluding a treaty with the 
 booksellers; as he had, I believe, less attention to profit from 
 his labors, than any man to whom literature has been a 
 profession. I shall here insert from a letter to me from my 
 late worthy friend Mr. Edward Dilly, though of a later date, 
 an account of this plan so happily conceived ; since it was the 
 occasion of procuring for- us an elegant collection of the best 
 biography and criticism of which our language can boast. 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 
 "Southhill, Sept. 26, 1777. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "You will find by this letter, that I am still in the same 
 calm retreat, from the noise and bustle of London, as when I 
 wrote to you last. I am happy to find you had such an agree- 
 able meeting with your old friend Dr. Johnson; I have no 
 
Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 159 
 
 doubt your stock is much increased by the interview; few 
 men, nay I may say, scarcely any man has got that fund of 
 knowledge and entertainment as Dr. Johnson in conversation. 
 When he opens freely, every one is attentive to what he says, 
 and cannot fail of improvement as well as pleasure. 
 
 "The edition of The Poets, now printing, will do honor to 
 the English press; and a concise account of the life of each 
 author, by Dr. Johnson, will be a very valuable addition, and 
 stamp the reputation of this edition superior to anything that 
 is gone before. The first cause that gave rise to this under- 
 taking, I believe, was owing to the little trifling edition of The 
 Poets, printing by the Martins at Edinburgh, and to be sold 
 by Bell, in London. Upon examining the volumes which 
 were printed, the type was found so extremely small, that 
 many persons could not read them; not only this inconven- 
 ience attended it, but the inaccuracy of the press was very 
 conspicuous. These reasons, as well as the idea of an in- 
 vasion of what we call our Literary Property, induced the 
 London booksellers to print an elegant and accurate edition 
 of all the English poets of reputation, from Chaucer to the 
 present time. 
 
 " Accordingly a select number of the most respectable 
 booksellers met on the occasion; and on consulting together, 
 agreed, that all the proprietors of copyright in the various 
 Poets should be summoned together ; and when their opinions 
 were given, to proceed immediately on the business. Ac- 
 cordingly a meeting was held, consisting of about forty of the 
 most respectable booksellers of London, when it was agreed 
 that an elegant and uniform edition of The English Poets 
 should be immediately printed, with a concise account of the 
 life of each author, by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and that three 
 persons should be deputed to wait upon Dr. Johnson, to 
 solicit him to undertake the Lives, viz., T. Davies, Strahan, 
 and Cadell. The Doctor very politely undertook it, and 
 seemed exceedingly pleased with the proposal. As to the 
 terms, it w r as left entirely to the Doctor to name his own ; he 
 mentioned two hundred guineas; it was immediately agreed 
 to; and a farther compliment, I believe, will be made him. 
 
160 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 
 
 A committee was likewise appointed to engage the best 
 engravers, viz., Bartolozzi, Sherwin, Hall, &c. Likewise 
 another committee for giving directions about the paper, 
 printing, &c. so that the whole will be conducted with spirit, 
 and in the best manner, with respect to authorship, editorship, 
 engravings, &c. &c. My brother will give you a list of the 
 Poets we mean to give, many of which are within the time of 
 the Act of Queen Anne, which Martin and Bell cannot give, 
 as they have no property in them ; the proprietors are almost 
 all the booksellers in London, of consequence. I am, dear 
 Sir, 
 
 "Ever yours, 
 
 " Edward Dilly." 
 
 "Dr. Johnson to Mr. Edward Dilly. 
 "Sir, 
 
 "To the collection of English Poets I have recommended 
 the volume of Dr. Watts to be added ; his name has long been 
 held by me in veneration, and I would not willingly be re- 
 duced to tell of him only that he was born and died. Yet of 
 his life I know very little, and therefore must pass him in a 
 manner very unworthy of his character, unless some of his 
 friends will favor me with the necessary information; many 
 of them must be known to you; and by your influence per- 
 haps I may obtain some instruction. My plan does not 
 exact much; but I wish to distinguish Watts, a man who 
 never wrote but for a good purpose. Be pleased to do for me 
 what you can. I am, Sir, 
 
 "Your humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "Bolt-court, Fleet-street, 
 "July 7, 1777." 
 
 "Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Boswell. 
 "Madam, 
 
 "Though I am well enough pleased with the taste of sweet- 
 meats, very little of the pleasure which I received at the 
 arrival of your jar of marmalade arose from eating it. I 
 
Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 161 
 
 received it as a token of friendship, as a proof of reconcilia- 
 tion, things much sweeter than sweetmeats, and upon this 
 consideration I return you, dear Madam, my sincerest thanks. 
 By having your kindness I think I have a double security for 
 the continuance of Mr. Boswell's, which it is not to be ex- 
 pected that any man can long keep, when the influence of a 
 lady highly and so justly valued operates against him. Mr. 
 Boswell will tell you that I was always faithful to your in- 
 terest, and always endeavored to exalt you in his estimation. 
 You must now do the same for me. We must all help one 
 another and you must now consider me as, dear Madam, 
 "Your most obliged 
 
 "And most humble servant, 
 " July 22, 1777." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 On Sunday evening, Sept. 14, I arrived at Ashbourne, and 
 drove directly up to Dr. Taylor's door. Dr. Johnson and he 
 appeared before I had got out of the post-chaise, and welcomed 
 me cordially. 
 
 I was somewhat disappointed in finding that the edition of 
 The English Poets, for which he was to write Prefaces and 
 Lives, was not an undertaking directed by him: but that he 
 w T as to furnish a Preface and Life to any poet the booksellers 
 pleased. I asked him if he would do this to any dunce's 
 works, if they should ask him. Johnson. "Yes, Sir, and 
 say he was a dunce." My friend seemed now not much to 
 relish talking of this edition. 
 
 We had with us at dinner several of Dr. Taylor's neigh- 
 bours, good civil gentlemen, who seemed to understand Dr. 
 Johnson very well, and not to consider him in the light that a 
 certain person did, who being struck, or rather stunned by 
 his voice and manner, when he was afterwards asked what he 
 thought of him, answered, "He's a tremendous companion." 
 
 He observed, that a gentleman of eminence in literature 
 had got into a bad style of poetry of late. " He puts (said he) 
 a very common thing in a strange dress till he does not know 
 it himself, and thinks other people do not know it." Bos- 
 well. "That is owing to his being so much versant in old 
 
162 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 
 
 English poetry." Johnson. "What is that to the purpose, 
 Sir? If I say a man is drunk, and you tell me it is owing to 
 his taking much drink, the matter is not mended. No, Sir, 
 — has taken to an odd mode. For example; he'd write thus: 
 
 'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell, 
 
 Wearing out life's evening gray.' 
 
 Gray evening is common enough ; but evening gray he'd think 
 fine. — Stay; — we'll make out the stanza: 
 
 'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell, 
 
 Wearing out life's evening gray: 
 Smite thy bosom, sage, and tell 
 
 What is bliss? and which the way?'" 
 
 Boswell. "But why smite his bosom, Sir?" Johnson. 
 "Why to show he was in earnest," (smiling). — He at an 
 after period added the following stanza: 
 
 "Thus I spoke; and speaking sigh'd; 
 
 — Scarce repress'd the starting tear; — 
 When the smiling sage replied — 
 
 — Come, my lad, and drink some beer." 
 
 I cannot help thinking the first stanza very good solemn 
 poetry, as also the first three lines of the second. Its last 
 line is an excellent burlesque surprise on gloomy sentimental 
 enquirers. 
 
 I suggested a doubt, that if I were to reside in London, the 
 exquisite zest with which I relished it in occasional visits might 
 go off, and I might grow tired of it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, 
 you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave 
 London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired 
 of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." 
 
 I shall present my readers with a series of what I gathered 
 this evening from the Johnsonian garden. 
 
 "Garrick's gaiety of conversation had delicacy and elegance; 
 Foote makes you laugh more; but Foote has the air of a 
 buffoon paid for entertaining the company. He, indeed, well 
 deserves his hire." 
 
 "Colley Cibber once consulted me as to one of his birth- 
 day Odes, a long time before it was wanted. I objected very 
 
Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 163 
 
 freely to several passages. Cibber lost patience, and would 
 not read his Ode to an end. When we had done with criticism, 
 we walked over to Richardson's, the author of Clarissa, and 
 I wondered to find Richardson displeased that I ' did not treat 
 Cibber with more respect,' Now, Sir, to talk of respect for 
 a player!" (smiling disdainfully.) Boswell. " There, Sir, 
 you are always heretical: you never will allow merit to a 
 player." Johnson. " Merit, Sir, what merit? Do you re- 
 spect a rope-dancer, or a ballad-singer?' 7 Boswell. "No, 
 Sir: but we respect a great player, as a man who can conceive 
 lofty sentiments, and can express them gracefully." John- 
 son. "What, Sir, a fellow who claps a hump on his back, 
 and a lump on his leg, and cries, 'I am Richard the Third'? 
 Nay, sir, a ballad-singer is a higher man, for he does two 
 things; he repeats and he sings: there is both recitation and 
 music in his performance : the player only recites." Boswell. 
 "My dear Sir! you may turn any thing into ridicule. I allow, 
 that a player of farce is not entitled to respect; he does a 
 little thing: but he who can represent exalted characters and 
 touch the noblest passions, has very respectable powers; and 
 mankind have agreed in admiring great talents for the stage. 
 We must consider, too, that a great player does what very 
 few are capable to do: his art is a very rare faculty. Who 
 can repeat Hamlet's soliloquy, ' To be, or not to be ' as Gar- 
 rick does it?" Johnson. "Anybody may. Jemmy, there 
 (a boy about eight years old, who was in the room) will do it 
 as well in a week." Boswell. "No, no, Sir: and as a proof 
 of the merit of great acting, and of the value which mankind 
 set upon it, Garrick has got a hundred thousand pounds." 
 Johnson. "Is getting a hundred thousand pounds a proof 
 of excellence? That has been done by a scoundrel com- 
 missary." 
 
 He found great fault with a gentleman of our acquaintance 
 for keeping a bad table. "Sir, (said he,) when a man is in- 
 vited to dinner, he is disappointed if he does not get something 
 good. I advised Mrs. Thrale, who has no card-parties at 
 her house, to give sweet-meats, and such good things, in an 
 evening, as are not commonly given, and she would find com- 
 
164 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 
 
 pany enough come to her; for everybody loves to have things 
 which please the palate put in their way, without trouble or 
 preparation." Such was his attention to the minutiae of life 
 and manners. 
 
 I complained of a wretched changefulness, so that I could 
 not preserve, for any long continuance, the same views of 
 anything. It was most comfortable to me to experience, in 
 Dr. Johnson's company, a relief from this uneasiness. His 
 steady vigorous mind held firm before me those objects which 
 my own feeble and tremulous imagination frequently pre- 
 sented in such a wavering state, that my reason could not 
 judge well of them. 
 
 He found fault with me for using the phrase to make money. 
 "Don't you see (said he) the impropriety of it? To make 
 money is to coin it : you should say get money." The phrase, 
 however, is, I think, pretty current. But Johnson was at all 
 times jealous of infractions upon the genuine English language, 
 and prompt to repress colloquial barbarisms ; such as pledging 
 myself, for undertaking; line, for department, or branch, as, 
 the civil line, the banking line. He was particularly indignant 
 against the almost universal use of the word idea in the sense 
 of notion, of opinion, when it is clear that idea can only sig- 
 nify something of which an image can be formed in the mind. 
 We may have an idea or image of a mountain, a tree, a build- 
 ing; but we cannot surely have an idea or image of an argu- 
 ment or proposition. Yet we hear the sages of the law " de- 
 livering their ideas upon the question under consideration;" 
 and the first speakers in parliament " entirely coinciding in 
 the idea which has been ably stated by an honorable mem- 
 ber;" — or " reprobating an idea unconstitutional, and 
 fraught with the most dangerous consequences to a great and 
 free country." Johnson called this " modern cant." 
 
 This evening, while some of the tunes of ordinary composi- 
 tion were played with no great skill, my frame was agitated, 
 and I was conscious of a generous attachment to Dr. John- 
 son, as my preceptor and friend, mixed with an affectionate 
 regret that he was an old man, whom I should probably lose 
 in a short time. I thought I could defend him at the point 
 
Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 165 
 
 of my sword. My reverence and affection for him were in 
 full glow. I said to him, "My dear Sir, we must meet every 
 year, if you don't quarrel with me." Johnson. "Nay, Sir, 
 you are more likely to quarrel with me, than I with you. 
 My regard for you is greater almost than I have words to 
 express ; but I do not choose to be always repeating it ; write 
 it down in the first leaf of your pocket-book, and never doubt 
 of it again." 
 
CHAPTER XII (1778) 
 Johnson Speaks on Many Matters 
 
 Johnson's Charity and Liberality — Dinner at Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds's — Johnson on Horace — On Goldsmith — On Living in the 
 Country — On Literature in France and England — On Old Age — 
 On Potter's iEschylus — On Cadence in English Prose — On El- 
 phinstone's Martial — On Criticising Authors — On War — John- 
 son's Refusal to be Teased with Questions — Johnson's Methods of 
 Reading — On Flattery — The Meeting of Johnson and His Old 
 Schoolmate Edwards — Edwards's Reminiscences of Johnson ,at 
 College — Edwards on Being a Philosopher — ■ Johnson's Impatience 
 at Reminders of Old Age — Johnson's Taciturnity — Johnson on 
 Americans — Boswell Offended — Reconciled to Johnson. 
 
 On Wednesday, March 18, I arrived in London, and was 
 informed by good Mr. Francis, that his master was better, 
 and was gone to Mr. Thrale's at Streatham, to which place 
 I wrote to him, begging to know when he would be in town. 
 
 On Friday, March 20, I found him at his own house, sitting 
 with Mrs. Williams, and was informed that the room for- 
 merly allotted to me was now appropriated to a charitable 
 purpose; Mrs. Desmoulins, and I think her daughter, and a 
 Miss Carmichael, being all lodged in it. Such was his hu- 
 manity, and such his generosity, that Mrs. Desmoulins 
 herself told me, he allowed her half-a-guinea a week. Let 
 it be remembered, that this was above a twelfth part of his 
 pension. 
 
 His liberality, indeed, was at all periods of his life very 
 remarkable. Mr. Howard, of Lichfield, at whose father's 
 house Johnson had in his early years been kindly received, 
 told me, that when he was a boy at the Charter-house, his 
 father wrote to him to go and pay a visit to Mr. Samuel 
 Johnson, which he accordingly did, and found him in an 
 upper room, of poor appearance. Johnson received him 
 with much courteousness, and talked a great deal to him, 
 
 166 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 167 
 
 as to a school-boy, of the course of his education, and other 
 particulars. When he afterwards came to know and under- 
 stand the high character of this great man, he recollected 
 his condescension with wonder. He added, that when he 
 was going away, Mr. Johnson presented him with half-a- 
 guinea; and this, said Mr. Howard, was at a time when he 
 probably had not another. 
 
 He said, "John Wesley's conversation is good, but he is 
 never at leisure. He is always obliged to go at a certain 
 hour. This is very disagreeable to a man who loves to fold 
 his legs and have out his talk, as I do." 
 
 Soon after our arrival at Thrale's, I heard one of the maids 
 calling eagerly on another, to go to Dr. Johnson. I won- 
 dered what this could mean. I afterwards learned, that it 
 was to give her a Bible, which he had brought from London 
 as a present to her. 
 
 He was for a considerable time occupied in reading Memoires 
 de Fontenelle, leaning and swinging upon the low gate into 
 the court, without his hat. 
 
 On Thursday, April 9, I dined with him at Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds's, with the Bishop of St. Asaph, (Dr. Shipley,) 
 Mr. Allan Ramsay, Mr. Gibbon, Mr. Cambridge, and Mr. 
 Langton. Mr. Ramsay had lately returned from Italy, and 
 entertained us with his observations upon Horace's villa, 
 which he had examined with great care. I relished this 
 much, as it brought fresh into my mind what I had viewed 
 w T ith great pleasure thirteen years before. The Bishop, Dr. 
 Johnson, and Mr. Cambridge joined with Mr. Ramsay, in 
 recollecting the various lines in Horace relating to the subject. 
 
 The Bishop said, it appeared from Horace's writings that 
 he was a cheerful, contented man. Johnson. "We have no 
 reason to believe that, my lord. Are we to think Pope was 
 happy, because he says so in his writings? We see in his 
 writings what he wished the state of his mind to appear. Dr. 
 Young, who pined for preferment, talks with contempt of it 
 in his writings, and affects to despise everything that he did 
 not despise." Bishop of St. Asaph. "He was like other 
 chaplains, looking for vacancies: but that is not peculiar 
 
 / 
 
168 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 to the clergy. I remember when I was with the army, after 
 the battle of Lafeldt, the officers seriously grumbled that no 
 general was killed." Boswell. "How hard is it that man 
 can never be at rest." Ramsay. "It is not in his nature 
 to be at rest. When he is at rest, he is in the worst state 
 that he can be in; for he has nothing to agitate him. He 
 is then like the man in the Irish song, 
 
 ' There liv'd a young man in Ballinacrazy, 
 Who wanted a wife for to make him unaisy. '" 
 
 Goldsmith being mentioned, Johnson observed, that it 
 was long before his merit came to be acknowledged: that 
 he once complained to him, in ludicrous terms of distress, 
 "Whenever I write anything, the public make a point to 
 know nothing about it:" but that his Traveller brought him 
 into high reputation. Langton. "There is not one bad line 
 in that poem; not one of Dryden's careless verses." Sir 
 Joshua. "I was glad to hear Charles Fox say, it was one 
 of the finest poems in the English language." Langton. 
 "Why were you glad? You surely had no doubt of this 
 before." Johnson. "No; the merit of The Traveller is so 
 well established, that Mr. Fox's praise cannot augment it, 
 nor his censure diminish it." Sir Joshua. "But his friends 
 may suspect they had too great a partiality for him." John- 
 son. "Nay, Sir, the partiality of his friends was always 
 against him. It was with difficulty we could give him a 
 hearing. Goldsmith had no settled notions upon any sub- 
 ject; so he talked always at random. It seemed to be his 
 intention to blurt out whatever was in his mind, and see what 
 would become of it. He was angry too, when catched in an 
 absurdity; but it did not prevent him from falling into 
 another the next minute. I remember Chamier, after talk- 
 ing with him some time, said, 'Well, I do believe he wrote 
 this poem himself: and, let me tell you, that is believing a 
 great deal/ Chamier once asked him, what he meant by 
 slow, the last word in the first line of The Traveller. 
 
 1 Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,' 
 
 Did he mean tardiness of locomotion? Goldsmith, who 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 169 
 
 would say something without consideration, answered, 'Yes.' 
 I was sitting by, and said, 'No, Sir, you do not mean tardi- 
 ness of locomotion; you mean, that sluggishness of mind 
 which comes upon a man in solitude/ Chamier believed 
 then that I had written the line, as much as if he had seen 
 me write it. Goldsmith, however, was a man, who, whatever 
 he wrote, did it better than any other man could do. He 
 deserved a place in Westminster Abbey; and every year he 
 lived, would have deserved it better. He had, indeed, been 
 at no pains to fill his mind with knowledge. He transplanted 
 it from one place to another; and it did not settle in his 
 mind; so he could not tell what was in his own books." 
 
 We talked of living in the country. Johnson. "No wise 
 man will go to live in the country, unless he has something 
 to do which can be better done in the country. For instance, 
 if he is to shut himself up for a year to study a science, it is 
 better to look out to the fields, than to an opposite wall. 
 Then, if a man walks out in the country, there is nobody 
 to keep him from walking in again; but if a man walks out 
 in London, he is not sure when he shall walk in again. A 
 great city is, to be sure, the school for studying life; and 
 'The proper study of mankind is man/ as Pope observes." 
 Bos well. "I fancy London is the best place for society; 
 though I have heard that the very first society of Paris is 
 still beyond any thing that we have here." Johnson. "Sir, 
 I question if in Paris such a company as is sitting round this 
 table could be got together in less than half a year. They 
 talk in France of the felicity of men and women living to- 
 gether: the truth is, that there the men are not higher than 
 the women, they know no more than the women do, and they 
 are not held down in their conversation by the presence of 
 women." Ramsay. "Literature is upon the growth, it is 
 in its spring in France: here it is rather passes." l Johnson. 
 "Literature was in France long before we had it. Paris was 
 the second city for the revival of letters: Italy had it first, 
 to be sure. What have we done for literature, equal to what 
 was done by the Stephani and others in France? Our liter- 
 1 Past its prime. 
 
170 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 ature came to us through France. Caxton printed only two 
 books, Chaucer and Gower, that were not translations from 
 the French; and Chaucer, we know, took much from the 
 Italians. No, Sir, if literature be in its spring in France, it 
 is a second spring; it is after a winter. We are now before 
 the French in literature; but we had it long after them. In 
 England, any man who wears a sword and a powdered wig 
 is ashamed to be illiterate. I believe it is not so in France. 
 Yet there is, probably, a great deal of learning in France, 
 because they have such a number of religious establishments; 
 so many men who have nothing else to do but study. I do 
 not know this; but I take it upon the common principles of 
 chance. Where there are many shooters, some will hit." 
 
 We talked of old age. Johnson (now in his seventieth 
 year) said, "It is a man's own fault, it is from want of use, 
 if his mind grows torpid in old age." The Bishop asked, 
 if an old man does not lose faster than he gets. Johnson. 
 "I think not, my Lord, if he exerts himself." One of the 
 company rashly observed, that he thought it was happy for 
 an old man that insensibility comes upon him. Johnson, 
 (with a noble elevation and disdain,) " No, Sir, I should never 
 be happy by being less rational." His Lordship mentioned 
 a charitable establishment in Wales, where people were 
 maintained and supplied with everything, upon the condi- 
 tion of their contributing the weekly produce of their labor; 
 and he said, they grew quite torpid for want of property. 
 Johnson. "They have no object for hope. Their condition 
 cannot be better. It is rowing without a port." 
 
 When we went to the drawing-room, there was a rich 
 assemblage. Besides the company who had been at dinner, 
 there were Mr. Garrick, Mr. Harris of Salisbury, Dr. Percy, 
 Dr. Burney, the Honourable Mrs. Cholmondeley, Miss 
 Hannah More, &c. &c. 
 
 After wandering about in a kind of pleasing distraction for 
 some time, I got into a corner, with Johnson, Garrick, and 
 Harris. Garrick: (to Harris.) "Pray, Sir, have you read 
 Potter's JEschylus?" Harris. "Yes, and think it pretty." 
 Garrick. (to Johnson.) "And what think you, Sir, of it?" 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 171 
 
 Johnson. "I thought what I read of it verbiage: but upon 
 Mr. Harris's recommendation, I will read a play. (To Mr. 
 Harris.) Don't prescribe two." Mr. Harris suggested one, 
 I do not remember which. Johnson. "We must try its 
 effect as an English poem; that is the way to judge of the 
 merit of a translation. Translations are, in general, for 
 people who cannot read the original." I mentioned the vulgar 
 saying, that Pope's Homer was not a good representation 
 of the original. Johnson. "Sir, it is the greatest work of 
 the kind that has ever been produced." Boswell. "The 
 truth is, it is impossible perfectly to translate poetry. In a 
 different language it may be the same tune, but it has not 
 the same tone. Homer plays it on a bassoon; Pope on a 
 flageolet." Harris. "I think, heroic poetry is best in blank 
 verse; yet it appears that rhyme is essential to English 
 poetry, from our deficiency in metrical quantities. In my 
 opinion, the chief excellence of our language is numerous 
 prose." Johnson. "Sir William Temple was the first 
 writer who gave cadence to English prose. Before this time 
 they were careless of arrangement and did not mind whether 
 a sentence ended with an important word or an insignificant 
 word, or with what part of speech it was concluded." Mr. 
 Langton, who now had joined us, commended Clarendon. 
 Johnson. "He is objected to for his parentheses, his in- 
 volved clauses, and his want of harmony. But he is sup- 
 ported by his matter. It is, indeed, owing to a plethory of 
 matter that his style is so faulty: every substance, (smiling 
 to Mr. Harris,) has so many accidents. — To be distinct, we 
 must talk analytically. If we analyze language, we must 
 speak of it grammatically; if we analyze argument, we must 
 speak of it logically." Garrick. "Of all the translations 
 that ever were attempted, I think Elphinstone's Martial 
 the most extraordinary. He consulted me upon it, who am 
 a little of an epigrammatist myself, you know. I told him 
 freely, 'You don't seem to have that turn.' I asked him 
 if he was serious; and finding he was, I advised him against 
 publishing. Why, his translation is more difficult to under- 
 stand than the original; I thought him a man of some talents; 
 
172 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778. 
 
 but he seems crazy in this." Johnson. "Sir, you have 
 done what I had not courage to do. But he did not ask my 
 advice, and I did not force it upon him, to make him angry 
 with me." Garrick. "But as a friend, Sir — " Johnson. 
 "Why, such a friend as I am with him — no." Garrick. 
 "But if you see a friend going to tumble over a precipice?" 
 Johnson. "That is an extravagant case, Sir. You are sure 
 a friend will thank you for hindering him from tumbling 
 over a precipice: but, in the other case, I should hurt his 
 vanity, and do him no good. He would not take my advice. 
 His brother-in-law, Strahan, sent him a subscription of fifty 
 pounds, and said he would send him fifty more, if he would 
 not publish." Garrick. "What! eh! is Strahan a good 
 judge of an Epigram? Is not he rather an obtuse man, eh?" 
 Johnson. "Why, Sir, he may not be a judge of an Epigram: 
 but you see he is a judge of what is not an Epigram." Bos- 
 well. "It is easy for you, Mr. Garrick, to talk to an author 
 as you talked to Elphinstone;^ you, who have been so long 
 the manager of a theatre, rejecting the plays of poor authors. 
 You are an old judge, who have often pronounced sentence 
 of death. You are a practised surgeon, who have often 
 amputated limbs; and though this may have been for the 
 good of your patients, they cannot like you. Those who have 
 undergone a dreadful operation are not very fond of seeing 
 the operator again. " Garrick. "Yes, I know enough of 
 that. There was a reverend gentleman, (Mr. Hawkins,) 
 who wrote a tragedy, the Siege of something, which I refused." 
 Harris. "So, the siege was raised." Johnson. "Ay, he 
 came to me and complained; and told me, that Garrick 
 said his play was wrong in the concoction. Now, what is 
 the concoction of a play?" (Here Garrick started, and 
 twisted himself, and seemed sorely vexed; for Johnson told 
 me, he believed the story was true.) Garrick. "I — I — 
 I — said, first concoction." Johnson, (smiling.) "Well, 
 he left out first. And Rich, he said, refused him in false 
 English: he could show it under his hand." Garrick. "He 
 wrote to me in violent wrath, for having refused his play: 
 'Sir, this is growing a very serious and terrible affair. I am 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 173 
 
 resolved to publish my play. I will appeal to the world; 
 and how will your judgment appear!' I answered, 'Sir, 
 notwithstanding all the seriousness, and all the terrors, I 
 have no objection to your publishing your play; and as you 
 live at a great distance, (Devonshire, I believe,) if you will 
 send it to me, I will convey it to the press/ I never heard 
 more of it, ha! ha! ha!" 
 
 We talked of war. Johnson. " Every man thinks meanly 
 of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been 
 at sea." Boswell. "Lord Mansfield does not." Johnson. 
 "Sir, if Lord Mansfield were in a company of General Officers 
 and Admirals who have been in service, he would shrink; 
 he'd wish to creep under the table." Boswell. "No; he'd 
 think he could try them all." Johnson. "Yes, if he could 
 catch them: but they'd try him much sooner. No, Sir: 
 were Socrates and Charles the Twelfth of Sweden both present 
 in any company, and Socrates to say, ' Follow me, and hear 
 a lecture in philosophy;' and Charles, laying his hand on 
 his sword, to sa}^, 'Follow me, and dethrone the Czar;' a 
 man would be ashamed to follow Socrates. Sir, the impres- 
 sion is universal: yet it is strange. As to the sailor, when 
 you look down from the quarter-deck to the space below, 
 you see the utmost extremity of human misery: such crowd- 
 ing, such filth, such stench!" Boswell. "Yet sailors are 
 happy." Johnson. "They are happy as brutes are happy, 
 with a piece of fresh meat, with the grossest sensuality. 
 But, Sir, the profession of soldiers and sailors has the dignity 
 of danger. Mankind reverence those who have got over 
 fear, which is so general a weakness." Scott. "But is not 
 courage mechanical* and to be acquired?" Johnson. "Why 
 yes, Sir, in a collective sense. Soldiers consider themselves 
 only as parts of a great machine." Scott. "We find people 
 fond of being sailors." Johnson. "I cannot account for 
 that, any more than I can account for other strange perver- 
 sions of imagination." 
 
 His abhorrence of the profession of a sailor was uniformly 
 violent; but in conversation he always exalted the profession 
 of a soldier. And yet I have, in my large and various col- 
 
174 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 lection of his writings, a letter to an eminent friend, in which 
 he expresses himself thus: "My god-son called on me lately. 
 He is weary, and rationally weary of a military life. If you 
 can place him in some other state, I think you may increase 
 his happiness, and secure his virtue. A soldier's time is 
 passed in distress and danger, or in idleness and corruption." 
 Such was his cool reflection in his study; but whenever he 
 was warmed and animated by the presence of company, 
 he, like other philosophers, whose minds are impregnated 
 with poetical fancy, caught the common enthusiasm for 
 splendid renown. 
 
 He sometimes could not bear being teased with questions. 
 I was once present when a gentleman asked so many, as, 
 "What did you do, Sir?" "What did you say, Sir?" that he 
 at last grew enraged, and said, "I will not be put to the 
 question. Don't you consider, Sir, that these are not the 
 manners of a gentleman? I will not be baited with what 
 and why; what is this? what is that? why is a cow's tail 
 long? Why is a fox's tail bushy?" The gentleman, who 
 was a good deal out of countenance, said, "Why, Sir, you 
 are so good, that I venture to trouble you." Johnson. 
 "Sir, my being so good is no reason why you should be so ill." 
 
 On Wednesday, April 15, I dined with Dr. Johnson at Mr. 
 Dilly's. At Mr. Dilly's today were Mrs. Knowles, the in- 
 genious Quaker lady, Miss Seward, the poetess of Lichfield, 
 the Reverend Dr. Mayo, and the Rev. Mr. Beresford, tutor 
 to the Duke of Bedford. Before dinner Dr. Johnson seized 
 upon Mr. Charles Sheridan's Account of the late Revolu- 
 tion in Sweden, and seemed to read it t ravenously, as if he 
 devoured it, which was to all appearance his method of 
 studying. "He knows how to read better than any one 
 (said Mrs. Knowles); he gets at the substance of a book 
 directly; he tears out the heart of it." He kept it wrapped 
 up in the table-cloth 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 I 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. 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 175 
 
 Talking of Miss — , l 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." Somebody now ob- 
 served, "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 nothing 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 Bos well a little now. If you knew his 
 merit as well as I do, you would say a great deal; he is the 
 best traveling companion in the world." 
 
 We remained together till it was pretty late. Notwith- 
 standing occasional explosions of violence, we were all de- 
 lighted 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 foliage, luscious 
 fruits ; but where the same heat sometimes produces thunder, 
 lightning, and earthquakes, in a terrible degree. 
 
 And now I am to give a pretty full account of one of the 
 most curious incidents in Johnson's life, of which he him- 
 self 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 remembered one Edwards; I did not at first recol- 
 lect the name, but gradually as we walked along, recovered 
 it, and told him a conversation that had passed at an ale- 
 house between us. My purpose is to continue our acquain- 
 tance." 
 
 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 Johnson with 
 familiar confidence, knowing who he was, while Johnson 
 returned his salutation with a courteous formality, as to a 
 stranger. But as soon as Edwards had brought to his recol- 
 1 Hannah More. 
 
176 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 lection their having been at Pembroke 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." John- 
 son, (who never liked to think of being old:) " Don't let us 
 discourage one another." Edwards. "Why, Doctor, you 
 look stout and hearty, I 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 conversation 
 as that between two fellow-collegians, who had lived forty 
 years in London without ever having chanced to meet, I whis- 
 pered to Mr. Edwards that Dr. Johnson was going home, and 
 that he had better accompany him now. So Edwards walked 
 along with us, I eagerly assisting to keep up the conversation. 
 Mr. Edwards informed Dr. Johnson that he had practised 
 long as a solicitor in Chancery, but that he now lived in the 
 country upon a little farm, about sixty acres, just by Steven- 
 age in Hertfordshire, and that he came to London (to Bar- 
 nard'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. 
 Bos well. "I have no notion of this, Sir. What you have 
 to entertain you is, I think, exhausted in half an hour." 
 Edwards. "What? don't you love to have hope realized? 
 I see my grass, and my corn, and my trees growing. Now, 
 for instance, I am curious 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, 
 I remember you would not let us say prodigious at College. 
 For even then, Sir, (turning to me,) he was delicate in lan- 
 guage, and we all feared him." Johnson, (to Edwards:) 
 "From your having practised the law long, Sir, I presume you 
 must be rich." Edwards. "No, Sir; I got a good deal of 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 177 
 
 money; but I had a number of poor relations to whom I gave 
 a great part of it." Johnson. "Sir, you have been rich in 
 the most valuable sense of the word." Edwards. "But I 
 shall not die rich." Johnson. "Nay, sure, Sir, it is better 
 to live rich, than to die rich." Edwards. "I wish I had 
 continued at College." Johnson. "Why do you wish that, 
 Sir?" Edwards. "Because I think I should have had a 
 much easier life than mine has been. I 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, "0! Mr. 
 Edwards! I'll convince you that I recollect you. Do you 
 remember our drinking together at an ale-house near Pem- 
 broke 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.' 1 
 
 and I told you of another fine line in Camden's Remains, an 
 eulogy upon one of our Kings, who was succeeded by his son, 
 a prince of equal merit : 
 
 'Mira cano, Sol occubuit, nox nulla secuta est.'" 2 
 
 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 exquisite trait of character. The truth is, that 
 
 1 The modest water saw God and blushed. 
 
 2 Wondrous things I sing: the sun sank to rest and no night 
 followed. 
 
178 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 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, I 
 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 lose a wife. — It had almost broke my heart." 
 
 Edwards. "How do you live, Sir? For my part, I must 
 have my regular meals, and a glass of good wine. I find I 
 require it." Johnson. "I 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 I have never begun it again. I 
 never felt any difference upon myself from eating one thing 
 rather than another, nor from one kind of weather rather 
 than another. There are people, I believe, who feel a differ- 
 ence; but I am not one of them. And as to regular meals, 
 1 1 have fasted from the Sunday's dinner to the Tuesday's 
 dinner, without any inconvenience. I 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. I may leave this town and go to Grand Cairo, 
 without being missed here or observed there." Edwards. 
 "Don't you eat supper, Sir?" Johnson. "No, Sir." Ed- 
 wards. "For my part, now, I consider supper as a turn-pike 
 through which one must pass, in order to get to bed." 
 
 Johnson. "You are a lawyer, Mr. Edwards. Lawyers 
 know life practically. A bookish man should always have 
 them to converse with. They have what he wants." Ed- 
 wards. "I am grown old: I am sixty-five." Johnson. "I 
 shall be sixty-eight next birthday. Come, Sir, drink water, 
 and put in for a hundred." 
 
 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. I would leave the interest of the fortune I 
 bequeathed to a College to my relations or my friends, for their 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 179 
 
 lives. It is the same thing to a College, which is a permanent 
 society, whether it gets the money now or twenty years hence; 
 and I would wish to make my relations or friends feel the 
 benefit of it." 
 
 This interview confirmed my opinion of Johnson's most hu- 
 mane and benevolent heart. His cordial and placid behavior 
 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, showed 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!" Mr. 
 Edwards, when going away, again recurred to his conscious- 
 ness of senility, and looking full in Johnson's face, said to him, 
 " You'll find in Dr. Young, 
 
 1 O my coevals! remnants of yourselves. ' '* 
 
 Johnson did not relish this at all; but shook his head with im- 
 patience. Edwards walked off seemingly highly pleased 
 with the honor of having thus been noticed by Dr. Johnson. 
 When he was gone, I said to Johnson, I thought him but a 
 weak man. Johnson. "Why, yes, Sir. Here is a man who 
 has passed through life 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 willingness which he praised so much, and I 
 think so justly; 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 described me 
 the best: 'Sir, (said he,) you are like a ghost; you never speak 
 till you are spoken to. ' " 
 
 On Saturday, April 18, 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. 
 
180 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 
 
 Indeed I never sought much after anybody." Bos well. 
 "Lord Orrery, I suppose." Johnson. "No, Sir; I never 
 went to him but when he sent for me." Bos well. "Rich- 
 ardson?" Johnson. "Yes, Sir. But I sought after George 
 Psalmanazar the most. I used to go and sit with him at an 
 alehouse in the city." 
 
 The gentleman who had dined with us at Dr. Percy's came 
 in. Johnson attacked the Americans with intemperate 
 vehemence of abuse. I said something in their favor; and 
 added, that I was always sorry, when he talked on that sub- 
 ject. This, it seems, exasperated him; though he said 
 nothing at the time. The cloud was charged with sulphu- 
 reous vapor, which was afterwards to burst in thunder. — 
 We talked of a gentleman 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 you to him. 
 If your company does not drive a man out of his house, 
 nothing will." 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." Boswell. "But why did 
 you not take your revenge directly?" Johnson, (smiling) 
 "Because, Sir, I had nothing ready. A man cannot strike 
 till he has his weapons." This was a candid and pleasant 
 confession. 
 
 On Saturday, May 2, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds's, where there was a very large company and a great 
 deal of conversation; but owing to some circumstances 
 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 humor; and upon 
 some imaginary offence from me, he attacked me with such 
 rudeness, that I was vexed and angry, because it gave those 
 persons an opportunity of enlarging upon his supposed fe- 
 rocity and ill-treatment of his best friends. I was so much 
 hurt, and had my pride so much roused, that I kept away 
 
Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 181 
 
 from him for a week; and, perhaps might have kept away 
 much longer, nay, gone to Scotland 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. Langton's. I 
 was reserved and silent, which I suppose he perceived, and 
 might recollect the cause. After dinner, 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 cour- 
 tesy, "Well, how have you done? " Boswell. "Sir, you have 
 made me very uneasy by your behavior to me when we last 
 were 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 insisted that I had interrupted him, which I 
 assured him was not the case; and proceeded — "But why 
 treat me so before people who neither love you nor me?" 
 Johnson. "Well, I am sorry for it. I'll make it up to you 
 twenty different ways, as you please." Boswell. "I said 
 today to Sir Joshua, when he observed 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 irritated 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 peculiarities 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." 
 
CHAPTER XIII (1779-1781) 
 
 The Lives of the English Poets 
 
 The Collection of English Poets — Johnson on His Seventy-Second 
 Birthday — Anecdote of Johnson by Langton — On Having One's 
 Portrait Made — On Physical and Moral Truth — On Huggins and 
 Warton — His Affection for Beauclerk — On Burke's Extraordinary 
 Talents — On Affectation — On Rude Sayings — On Goldsmith — ■ 
 Completion of The Lives of the Poets — Merits of This Work — The 
 Life of Cowley — Of Waller — Of Pope — Of Swift — The Style of 
 the Lives — Accusations Made Against it — Johnson's Rejoinder. 
 
 This year Johnson gave the world a luminous proof that 
 the vigor of his mind in all its faculties, whether memory, 
 judgment, or imagination, was not in the least abated; for 
 this year came out the first four volumes of his Prefaces, 
 biographical and critical, to the most eminent of the English 
 Poets, published by the booksellers of London. The remain- 
 ing volumes came out in the year 1780. The Poets were 
 selected by the several booksellers who had the honorary 
 copyright, which is still preserved among them by mutual 
 compact, 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 I shall speak more particularly 
 hereafter. 
 
 My readers will not be displeased at being told every slight 
 circumstance of the manner in which Dr. Johnson contrived 
 to amuse his solitary hours. He sometimes employed him- 
 self in chemistry, sometimes in watering and pruning a vine, 
 sometimes in small experiments, at which those who may 
 smile should recollect that there are moments which admit 
 of being soothed only by trifles. 
 
 182 
 
Age 71] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 183 
 
 On his birthday, Johnson has this note; "I am now begin- 
 ning the seventy-second year of my life, with more strength 
 of body and greater vigor of mind, than I think is common at 
 that age." But still he complains of sleepless nights and idle 
 days and forge tfulness, or neglect of resolutions. He thus 
 pathetically expresses himself: " Surely I shall not spend my 
 whole life with my own total disapprobation." 
 
 "To James Boswell, Esq. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "I 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. I hardly 
 saw a green field, but stayed in town to work, without work- 
 ing much. 
 
 "Mr. Thrale's loss of health has lost him the election; he 
 is now going to Brighthelmston, and expects me to go with 
 him; and how long I shall stay, I cannot tell. I do not much 
 like the place, but yet I shall go, and stay while my stay is 
 desired. We must, therefore, content ourselves with know- 
 ing 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. 
 
 "I was pleased to be told that I accused Mrs. Boswell un- 
 justly, in supposing that she bears me ill-will. I love you so 
 much, that I would be glad to love all that love you, and that 
 you love; and I 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 Auchinleck, while you 
 stayed. Make your father as happy as you can. 
 
 "You lately told me of your health: I can tell you in re- 
 turn, that my health has been, for more than a year past, 
 better than it has been for many years before. Perhaps it 
 
184 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1780 
 
 may please God to give us some time together before we are 
 parted. 
 
 "I am, dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours, most affectionately, 
 "Sam. Johnson. 
 "October 17, 1780." 
 
 Being disappointed in my hopes of meeting Johnson this 
 year, so that I could hear none of his admirable sayings, I 
 shall compensate for this want by inserting a collection of 
 them, for which I am indebted to my worthy friend Mr. Lang- 
 ton, whose kind communications have been separately inter- 
 woven 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. 
 I 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 labor employed. The authenticity 
 of every article is unquestionable. For the expression, I, 
 who wrote them down in his presence, am partly answerable. 
 
 "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 anfractuosities of the human mind, 
 I 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 publica- 
 tion 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 authorities which were beneath 
 the dignity of such a work, and mentioned Richardson. 
 'Nay, (said Johnson,) I have done worse than that: I have 
 cited thee, David/" 
 
 "When in good humor, he would talk of his own writings 
 with a wonderful frankness and candor, and would even 
 
Age 71] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 185 
 
 criticize 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, I thought it had been better.'" 
 
 "He thus defined the difference between physical and 
 moral truth: 'Physical truth is, when you tell a thing as it 
 actually is. Moral truth is, when you tell a thing sincerely 
 and precisely as it appears to you. I say such a one walked 
 across the street; if he really did so, I told a physical truth. 
 If I thought so, though I should have been mistaken, I told 
 a moral truth.'" 
 
 "Huggins, the translator of Ariosto, and Mr. Thomas 
 Warton, in the early part of his literary life, had a dispute 
 concerning that poet, of whom Mr. Warton, in his Observa- 
 tions 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 knowl- 
 edge 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.'" 
 
 "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 whole- 
 some to study soon after dinner. Johnson, 'Ah, Sir, don't 
 give way to such a fancy. At one time of my life I had taken 
 it into my head that it was not wholesome to study between 
 breakfast and dinner.'" 
 
 "His affection for Topham Beauclerk was so great, that 
 when Beauclerk was laboring 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.'" 
 
 "He used to quote with great warmth, the saying of Aris- 
 totle recorded by Diogenes Laertius, that there was the same 
 
186 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1780 
 
 difference between one learned and unlearned, as between the 
 living and the dead." 
 
 "An eminent foreigner, when he was shown the British 
 Museum, was very troublesome with many absurd inquiries. 
 'Now there, Sir, (said he,) is the difference between an 
 Englishman and a Frenchman. A Frenchman must be 
 always talking, whether he knows anything of the matter or 
 not; an Englishman is content to say nothing, when he has 
 nothing to say. ' " 
 
 "He used frequently to observe, that men might be very 
 eminent in a profession, without our perceiving any particu- 
 lar 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 topic you 
 please, he is ready to meet you/" 
 
 " Though he used to censure carelessness with great ve- 
 hemence, he owned that he once, to avoid the trouble 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 Doctor's notice, which 
 he did by saying, 'When we have sat together some time, 
 you'll find my brother grow very entertaining/ — 'Sir, (said 
 Johnson,) I can wait.'" 
 
 "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 topics which it was evident he would have 
 illustrated with extensive knowledge and richness of expres- 
 sion; but Johnson always seized upon the conversation, in 
 which, however, he acquitted himself in a most masterly 
 manner. 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 another person; (plainly in- 
 
Age 72.] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 187 
 
 timating that he meant Mr. Burke.) '0, 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 affectation. Talking of old Mr. 
 Langton, of whom he said, 'Sir, you will seldom 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 admira- 
 tion on trivial occasions; he never embraces you with an 
 overacted cordiality/" 
 
 "Being in company with a gentleman who thought fit to 
 maintain Dr. Berkeley's ingenious philosophy, 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.'" 
 
 "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 man than to knock him down.'" 
 
 "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.'" 
 
 "An observation of Bathurst's may be mentioned, which 
 Johnson repeated, appearing to acknowledge it to be well 
 founded; namely, it was somewhat remarkable how seldom, 
 on occasion of coming into the company of any new person, 
 one felt any wish or inclination to see him again." 
 
 In 1781, Johnson at last completed his Lives of the Poets, 
 of which he gives this account: "Some time in March I 
 finished the Lives of the Poets, which I wrote in my usual way, 
 dilatorily and hastily, unwilling to work, and working with 
 vigor 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." 
 
188 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 
 
 This is the work, which of all Dr. Johnson's writings will 
 perhaps be read most generally, and with most pleasure. 
 Philology and biography were his favorite pursuits, and those 
 who lived most in intimacy with him, heard him upon all 
 occasions, when there was a proper opportunity, take de- 
 light in expatiating 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 contributed 
 to illuminate. His mind was so full of that kind of informa- 
 tion, and it was so well arranged in his memory, that in 
 performing what he had undertaken in this way, he had little 
 more to do than to put his thoughts upon paper; exhibiting 
 first each Poet's life, and then subjoining a critical examina- 
 tion of his genius and works. But when he began to write, 
 the subject swelled in such a manner, that instead of prefaces 
 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. The booksellers, justly 
 sensible of the great additional value of the copyright, pre- 
 sented 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 recompense for such a col- 
 lection of biography, and such principles and illustrations 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 show. 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 opportunity of observing with wonder the correct- 
 ness with which he rapidly struck off such glowing composi- 
 tion. 
 
 The Life of Cowley he himself considered as the best of the 
 whole, on account of the dissertation which it contains on the 
 Metaphysical Poets. Dryden, whose critical abilities were 
 equal to his poetical, had mentioned them in his excellent 
 Dedication of his Juvenal, but had barely mentioned them. 
 Johnson has exhibited them at large, with such happy illus- 
 
Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 189 
 
 tration from their writings, and in so luminous a manner, that 
 indeed he may be allowed the full merit of novelty, and to 
 have discovered to us, as it were, a new planet in the poetical 
 hemisphere. 
 
 In the Life of Waller, Johnson gives a distinct and animated 
 narrative of public affairs in that variegated period, with 
 strong yet nice touches of character ; and having a fair oppor- 
 tunity to display his political principles, does it with an un- 
 qualified manly confidence, and satisfies his readers how 
 nobly he might have executed a Tory History of his country. 
 
 So easy is his style in these Lives, that I do not recollect 
 more than three uncommon or learned words; one, when 
 giving an account of the approach of Waller's mortal disease, 
 he says, "he found his legs grow tumid;" by using the ex- 
 pression his legs swelled, he would have avoided this; and 
 there would have been no impropriety in its being followed by 
 the interesting question to his physician, "What that swelling 
 meant?" 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. Delaney, writers both undoubtedly 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 
 expression, by having a greater variety of synonyms. 
 
 I could, with pleasure, expatiate upon the masterly execu- 
 tion 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. 
 
 The Life of Pope was written by Johnson con amore, 1 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 poetical fame, by 
 demonstrating his excellence, and pronouncing the following 
 1 With love. 
 
190 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 
 
 triumphant eulogium: " After all this, it is surely superfluous 
 to answer the question 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 circumscribe 
 poetry by a definition, will only show the narrowness 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 decreed the wreath of poetry; let their 
 productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the 
 pretensions of Pope will be no more disputed." 
 
 I remember once to have heard Johnson say, "Sir, a thou- 
 sand years may elapse before there shall appear another man 
 with a power of versification equal to that of Pope." That 
 power must undoubtedly be allowed its due share in enhancing 
 the value of his captivating composition. 
 
 In the Life of Swift, it appears to me that Johnson had a 
 certain degree of prejudice against that extraordinary man, 
 of which I have elsewhere had occasion to speak. Mr. 
 Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposed apprehension in 
 Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active in obtain- 
 ing 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 author as I have done from my 
 youth upwards. Yet that he had an unfavorable bias is 
 evident, were it only from that passage in which he speaks of 
 Swift's practice of saving, as, "first ridiculous and at last 
 detestable;" and yet after some examination of circumstan- 
 ces, finds himself obliged to own, that "it will perhaps appear 
 that he only liked one mode of expense better than another, 
 and saved merely that he might have something to give." 
 
 While the world in general was filled with admiration of 
 Johnson's Lives of the Poets, 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 arraigned of injustice to Milton; by 
 some Cambridge men of depreciating Gray; and his express- 
 
Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 191 
 
 ing with a dignified freedom what he really thought of George, 
 Lord Lyttelton, gave offence to some of the friends of that 
 nobleman, and particularly produced a declaration of war 
 against him from Mrs. Montagu, the ingenious essayist on 
 Shakespeare, between whom and his lordship a commerce of 
 reciprocal compliments had long been carried on. In this 
 war the smallest powers in alliance with him were of course 
 led to engage, at least on the defensive. These minute in- 
 conveniences 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 show where they think me wrong. " 
 
CHAPTER XIV (1781-1783) 
 
 The Death of Thrale: Johnson Feels the Weakness 
 of Old Age 
 
 Boswell in London — Johnson's Manner of Walking — The Illness 
 of Thrale — Johnson a Wine-Drinker Again — Johnson on the 
 Society of Ladies — The Death of Thrale — An Essential Loss to 
 Johnson — The Sale of fThrale's Brewery — "A Pretty Book called 
 The Rambler" — At Mrs. Garrick's — Johnson on Courting the 
 Great — Johnson's Resolutions of Diligence — Johnson's Ailments 
 Increase — A Letter to Langton — Rules for a Long Journey — 
 Mrs. Boswell and Johnson — Johnson Leaves Streatham for the 
 Last Time — Johnson on Being a "Laird" — On the Scotch — On 
 an Old Man's "Intellects" — On "the Laughers" — On the " Met- 
 aphysical Tailor" — Johnson's Clearness in Expression — His At- 
 tention to Details — On English Reserve — His Love of Little Chil- 
 dren — His Fondness for Animals — Johnson's Cat Hodge — On 
 Being in Parliament — On Cant — Johnson has a Stroke of the 
 Palsy — His Fortitude and Patience — He Suffers from the Gout 
 and Asthma. 
 
 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 motion, independent of his feet." That he 
 was often much stared at while he advanced in this manner 
 may 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 con- 
 scious of what he had done. The porter was very angry, 
 but stood still, and eyed the huge figure with much earnest- 
 ness, till he was satisfied that his wisest course was to be 
 quiet, and take up his burden again. 
 
 192 
 
Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 193 
 
 Our accidental meeting in the street after a long separa- 
 tion was a pleasing surprise to us both. He stepped 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 I. Johnson. 
 "Why, Sir, a London morning does not go with the 
 sun." 
 
 I 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 appearance. 
 
 He told me I might now have the pleasure to see Dr. John- 
 son drink wine again, for he had lately returned 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 observed he poured a large quantity of it into 
 a glass, and swallowed it greedily. Everything 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 vora- 
 ciously; when he did drink wine, it was copiously. He 
 could practice abstinence, but not temperance. 
 
 He said, "Mrs. Montagu has dropped me. Now, Sir, there 
 are people whom one should like very well to drop, but 
 w T ould not wish to be dropped by." He certainly was vain 
 of the society of ladies, and could make himself very agree- 
 able 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 
 think a philosopher would not mind. Dean Marlay wittily 
 observed, "A lady may be vain, when she can turn a wolf- 
 dog into a lap-dog." 
 
 On Friday, March 30, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds's, with the Earl of Charlemont, Sir Annesley Stewart, 
 Mr. Eliot, of Port-Eliot, Mr. Burke, Dean Marlay, Mr. 
 Lang ton; a most agreeable day, of which I regret that every 
 
194 s LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 
 
 circumstance is not preserved; but it is unreasonable to 
 require such a multiplication of felicity. 
 
 On Sunday, April 1, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, with 
 Sir Philip Jennings Clerk and Mr. Perkins, who had the super- 
 intendence of Mr. Thrale's brewery, with a salary of five hun- 
 dred pounds a year. Mr. Thrale appeared very lethargic 
 today. 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. Johnson 
 was in the house, and thus mentions the event: "I felt almost 
 the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for the last time upon 
 the face that for fifteen years had never been turned upon 
 me but with respect and benignity. " Upon that day there 
 was a Call of the Literary Club; but Johnson apologized for 
 his absence 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. " 
 
 11 Wednesday. " 
 
 Mr. Thrale's death was a very essential loss to Johnson, 
 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 show 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 fortune, it 
 would have been highly to his honor 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. I could 
 not but be somewhat diverted by hearing Johnson talk in a 
 pompous manner of his new office, and particularly of the 
 
Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 195 
 
 concerns of the brewery, which it was at last resolved should 
 be sold. Lord Lucan tells a very good story, which, if not 
 precisely exact, is certainly characteristical : that when the 
 sale of Thrale's brewery was going forward, Johnson appeared 
 bustling about, with an ink-horn and pen in his button-hole, 
 like an excise-man; and on being asked what he really con- 
 sidered to be the value of the property which was to be dis- 
 posed 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 13, being Good Friday, I went to St. Clem- 
 ent's church with him as usual. There I saw again his old 
 fellow-collegian, Edwards, to whom I said, "I 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 
 their unexpected renewal of acquaintance. "But (said he, 
 smiling) he met me once, and said, ' I am told you have written 
 a very pretty book called The Rambler.' I was unwilling 
 that he should leave the world in total darkness, and sent 
 him a set." 
 
 On Friday, April 20, I 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 hus- 
 band was, I believe, 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. 
 
196 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 
 
 We were all in fine spirits; and I whispered to Mrs. Bos- 
 cawen, "I 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 cor- 
 dially answered, " Gentlemen, I wish you all as well as you do 
 me." 
 
 I asked him, if he was not dissatisfied with having so small 
 a share of wealth, and none of those distinctions 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 circum- 
 stances as to keep his coach? Why had he not some consider- 
 able office? Johnson. "Sir, I have never complained of 
 the world; nor do I think that I have reason to complain. 
 It is rather to be wondered at that I have so much. My 
 pension is more out of the usual course of things than any 
 instance that I have known. Here, Sir, was a man avowedly 
 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 satis- 
 fied: 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 don't love to have their mouths stopped." This was 
 very expressive of the effect which the force of his under- 
 standing and brilliancy of his fancy could not but produce; 
 and, to be sure, they must have found themselves strangely 
 diminished in his company. When I warmly declared how 
 happy I 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 consider your own dignity." 
 
 In one of his little memorandom-books is the following 
 minute : 
 
 "August 9, 3 p.m., aetat. 72, in the summer-house at 
 Streatham. 
 
 "After innumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I 
 
Age 73] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 197 
 
 have retired hither, to plan a life of greater diligence, in hope 
 that I may yet be useful, and be daily better prepared to 
 appear before my Creator and my Judge, from whose infinite 
 mercy I humbly call for assistance and support. 
 
 "My purpose is, 
 
 "To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment. 
 
 " Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks 
 upon the Italian language, for my settled study." 
 
 How venerably pious does he appear in these moments of 
 solitude, and how spirited are his resolutions for the improve- 
 ment of his mind, even in elegant literature, at a very advanced 
 period of life, and when afflicted with many complaints. 
 
 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 Captain Langton, in Rochester. 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 "It is now long since we saw one another; and, whatever 
 has been the reason, neither you have written to me, nor I 
 to you. To let friendship die away by negligence 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 I do not forget you. It is pleas- 
 ing in the silence of solitude 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 mourn- 
 ful. 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 suffer man to 
 hope. I passed the Summer at Streatham, but there was no 
 Thrale; and having idled away the summer with a weakly 
 
198 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1782 
 
 body and neglected mind, I made a journey to Staffordshire 
 on the edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was sickly, 
 and found the friends sickly whom I went to see. After a 
 sorrowful sojourn, I returned to a habitation possessed for 
 the' present by two sick women, where my dear old friend, 
 Mr. Levett, to whom, as he used to tell me, I owe your ac- 
 quaintance, died a few weeks ago, suddenly in his bed; there 
 passed not, I believe, a minute between health and death. 
 At night, as at Mrs. Thrale's I was musing in my chamber, I 
 thought with uncommon earnestness, that however I might 
 alter my mode of life, or whithersoever I might remove, I 
 would endeavor to retain Levett about me; in the morning 
 my servant brought me word that Levett was called to another 
 state, a state for which, I think, he was not unprepared, for he 
 was very useful to the poor. How much soever I valued him, 
 I now wish that I had valued him more. 
 
 "I have myself been ill more than eight weeks of a dis- 
 order, from which, at the expense of about fifty ounces of 
 blood, I hope I am now recovering. 
 
 "You, dear Sir, have, I 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 to concur. May whatever you enjoy of 
 good be increased, and whatever you surfer of evil be dimin- 
 ished. I am, dear Sir, 
 
 "Your humble servant, 
 "Bolt-court, Fleet-street, "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 "March 20, 1782." 
 
 " 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. 
 
 "Observe these rules: 
 
 "1. Turn all care out of your head as soon as you mount 
 the chaise. 
 
Age 73] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 199 
 
 "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. 
 
 "5. 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 unquiet 
 mind, neither exercise, nor diet, not physic can be of much 
 use. 
 
 "I wish you, dear Sir, a prosperous journey, and a happy 
 recovery. I am, dear Sir, 
 
 "Your most affectionate, humble servant, 
 
 "Sam. Johnson. " 
 "July 28, 1782." 
 
 My wife was now so much convinced of his sincere friend- 
 ship for me, and regard for her, that, without any suggestion 
 on my part, she wrote him a very polite and grateful letter. 
 
 "Dr. Johnson to Mrs. BoswelL 
 "Dear Lady, 
 
 "I 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. I 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 
 expense, 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. 
 
 "Sam. Johnson." 
 "London, Sept. 7, 1782." 
 
200 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 
 
 The death of Mr. Thrale had made a very material alter- 
 ation with respect to Johnson's reception in that 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 gradually 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 leaving 
 Mr. Thrale's family. 
 
 "Almighty God, Father of all mercy, help me by thy grace, 
 that I may, with humble and sincere thankfulness, remember 
 the comforts and conveniences which I have enjoyed at this 
 place; and that I may resign them with holy submission, 
 equally trusting in thy protection when Thou givest, and when 
 Thou takest away. Have mercy upon me, Lord, have 
 mercy upon me. 
 
 "To thy fatherly protection, 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 favorable to the lady whose conduct occasioned it. 
 
 On Friday, March 21, [1783] having arrived in London the 
 night before, I was glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's house, in 
 Argyll-street, appearances of friendship between them being 
 still kept up. I was shown into his room, and after the first 
 salutation he said, "I am glad you are come: I am very ill." 
 He looked pale, and was distressed with a difficulty of breath- 
 ing: but after the common inquiries he assumed his usual 
 strong animated style of conversation. Seeing me now for 
 the first time as a Laird, or proprietor of land, he began thus : 
 "Sir, the superiority of a country-gentleman over the people 
 upon his estate is very agreeable: and he who says he does 
 not feel it to be agreeable, lies; for it must be agreeable to 
 
Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 201 
 
 have a casual superiority over those who are by nature equal 
 with us." Boswell. "Yet, Sir, we see great proprietors of 
 land who prefer living in London." Johnson. "Why, Sir, 
 the pleasure of living in London, the intellectual superiority 
 that is enjoyed there, may counterbalance the other. Be- 
 sides, Sir, a man may prefer the state of the country-gentle- 
 man 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 repeated to me his verses on Mr. Levett, with an emo- 
 tion which gave them full effect; and then he was pleased 
 to say, "You must be as much with me as you can. You 
 have done me good. You cannot think how much better 
 I am, since you came in." 
 
 He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I had 
 arrived. I had not seen her since her husband's death. She 
 soon appeared, and favored me with an invitation to stay 
 to dinner, which I accepted. There was no other company 
 but herself and three of her daughters, Dr. Johnson and I. 
 She too said, she was very glad I was come, for she was going 
 to Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson 
 before I came. This seemed to be attentive and kind; and 
 I who had not been informed of any change, imagined all 
 to be as well as formerly. He was little inclined to talk at 
 dinner, and went to sleep after it; but when he joined us in 
 the drawing-room, he seemed revived, and was again himself. 
 
 After musing for some time, he said, "I wonder how I 
 should have any enemies; for I do harm to nobody." Bos- 
 well. "In the first place, Sir, you will be pleased to recollect 
 that you set out with attacking the Scotch; so you got a 
 whole nation for your enemies." Johnson. "Why, I own, 
 that by my definition of oats I meant to vex them." Boswell. 
 "Pray, Sir, can you trace the cause of your antipathy to 
 the Scotch?" Johnson. "I 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." 
 
 He observed, "There is a wicked inclination in most people 
 to suppose an old man decayed in his intellects. If a young or 
 
202 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783; 
 
 middle-aged man, when leaving a company, does not recollect 
 where he laid his hat, it is nothing; but if the same inatten- 
 tion is discovered in an old man, people will shrug up their 
 shoulders and say, 'His memory is going. '" 
 
 He said, "A man should pass a part of his time with the 
 laughers, by which means anything ridiculous or particular 
 about him might be presented to his view, and corrected." l 
 
 Mr. Hoole told him, he was born in Moorflelds, and had re- 
 ceived part of his early instruction in Grub-street. "Sir, 
 (said Johnson, smiling) you have been regularly educated." 
 Having asked who was his instructor, and Mr. Hoole having 
 answered: "My uncle, Sir, who was a tailor;" Johnson, 
 recollecting himself, said, "Sir, I knew him; we called him 
 the metaphysical tailor. He was of a club in Old-street, with 
 me and George Psalmanazar, and some others: but pray, 
 Sir, was he a good tailor?" Mr. Hoole having answered 
 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. " 
 
 Johnson's attention to precision and clearness in expression 
 was very remarkable. He disapproved of a parenthesis; and 
 I believe in all his voluminous writings, not half a dozen of 
 them will be found. He never used the phrases the former 
 and the latter, having observed that they often occasioned 
 obscurity; he therefore 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 I wish were general. 
 
 Such was the heat and irritability of his blood, that not 
 only did he pare his nails to the quick, but scraped the joints 
 of his fingers with a pen-knife, till they seemed quite red and 
 raw. 
 
 From Sir Joshua Reynolds's recollections. 
 
Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 203 
 
 The heterogeneous composition of human nature was re- 
 markably exemplified in Johnson. His liberality in giving 
 his money to persons in distress was extraordinary. Yet there 
 lurked about him a propensity to paltry saving. One day 
 I owned to him, that "I was occasionally troubled with a fit 
 of narrowness" "Why, Sir, (said he,) so am I. Bid 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 humor. 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 remark- 
 able. 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 prejudiced 
 against all other nations, he had discernment enough to see, 
 and candor enough to censure, the cold reserve too common 
 among Englishmen towards strangers: "Sir, (said he,) two 
 men of any other nation who are shown into a room together, 
 at a house where they are both visitors, will immediately 
 find some conversation. 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." 
 
 His acute observation of human life made him remark, 
 "Sir, there is nothing by which a man exasperates most 
 people more, than by displaying a superior ability or bril- 
 liancy in conversation. They seem pleased at the time; but 
 their envy makes them curse him at their hearts." 
 
 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 con- 
 cern, not only for their comfort in this world, but their happi- 
 ness in the next, was another unquestionable evidence of 
 
204 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 
 
 what all, who were intimately acquainted with him, knew to 
 be true. 
 
 Nor would it be just under this head, to omit the fondness 
 which he showed 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. I 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 I liked better than 
 this ; " and then as if perceiving Hodge to be out of countenance, 
 adding, "But he is a very fine cat, a very fine cat indeed." 
 
 I have no minute of any interview with Johnson till Thurs- 
 day, May 15th, when I find what follows: Boswell. "I wish 
 much to be in Parliament, 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 b^ the less happy for being in Par- 
 liament. 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 gallery: 
 public affairs vex no man." Boswell. "Have not they 
 vexed yourself a little, Sir? 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 in- 
 creased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished?'" John- 
 son. "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 declare, 
 Sir, upon my honor, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a 
 pride in it; but it was, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither 
 
Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 205 
 
 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 times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to 
 such times/ You don't mind the times. You tell a man, 
 'I 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. " 
 
 On Friday, May 29, being to set out for Scotland next 
 morning, I 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: 
 His all entangled: and then he drives it so awkwardly upon 
 conversation!" 
 
 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, "I 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. Bos well. She 
 and I are good friends now; are we not?" 
 
 He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual when I 
 was leaving him for any length of time. I walked from his 
 door today, with a fearful apprehension of what might happen 
 before I returned. 
 
 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 letters written by himself to 
 show with what composure of mind, and resignation to the 
 Divine Will his steady piety enabled him to behave. 
 
206 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 
 
 " 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 that it may be 
 his further good pleasure to deprive me soon of my senses, I 
 request you will, on the receipt of this note, come to me, and 
 act for me, as the exigencies of my case may require. 
 
 "lam, 
 
 " Sincerely vours, 
 61 June 17, 1783." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 Such was the general vigor of his constitution, that he 
 recovered from this alarming and severe attack with won- 
 derful quickness; so that in July he was able to make a visit 
 to Mr. Langton at Rochester, where he passed about a fort- 
 night, and made little excursions as easily as at any time of 
 his life. In August he went as far as the neighborhood of 
 Salisbury, to Heale, the seat of William Bowles, Esq. a gen- 
 tleman whom I have heard him praise for exemplary religious 
 order in his family. In his diary I find a short but honorable 
 mention of this visit: "August 28, I came to Heale without 
 fatigue. 30. I am entertained quite to my mind." 
 
 His fortitude and patience met with severe trials during 
 this year. The stroke of the palsy has been related circum- 
 stantially; but he was also afflicted with the gout, and was 
 besides troubled with a complaint which not only was at- 
 tended with immediate inconvenience, but threatened him 
 with a chirurgical operation, from which most men would 
 shrink. The complaint 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. 
 
 Happily the complaint abated without his being put to 
 the torture of amputation. But we must surely admire the 
 manly resolution which he discovered, while it hung over 
 him. 
 
 In a letter to the same gentleman 1 he writes, " The gout has 
 1 Bennet Langton. 
 
Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 207 
 
 within these four days come upon me with a violence which I 
 never experienced before. It made me helpless as an infant.' 7 
 
 — And in another, having mentioned Mrs. Williams, he says, 
 
 — "whose death following that of Levett has now made my 
 house a solitude. She left her little substance to a charity- 
 school. She is, I hope, where there is neither darkness, nor 
 want, nor sorrow." 
 
 Notwithstanding the complication of disorders under which 
 Johnson now labored, he did not resign himself to despondency 
 and discontent, but with wisdom and spirit endeavored to 
 console and amuse his mind with as many innocent enjoy- 
 ments as he could procure. Sir John Hawkins has men- 
 tioned 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 insure himself society 
 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. 
 
 In the end of this year he was seized with a spasmodic 
 asthma of such violence,-that he was confined to the house in 
 great pain, being sometimes obliged to sit all night in his 
 chair, a recumbent posture being so hurtful to his respiration, 
 that he could not endure lying 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 aggra- 
 vated his complaints; and the solitude in which Mr. Levett 
 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 abstraction ; he did not deny him- 
 self 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. 
 
CHAPTER XV (1784) 
 The Last Year of Johnson's Life 
 
 A Letter to Boswell — To His God-child — Boswell in London — ■ 
 On His Friend Langton and the Next World — On Christian Charity 
 
 — Johnson's Kind-Heartedness — A Trip to Oxford — The American 
 Tourists — Johnson Truly Social — His Opinion of the Roast Mutton 
 
 — The Value of Johnson's Roughness — Some of Johnson's Repartees 
 
 — His Readiness to Make Apologies — The Endeavor to Secure 
 Means for Sending Johnson to Italy — Boswell Makes Application 
 Unknown to Johnson — Boswell's Last Meeting with Johnson — 
 Second Marriage of Mrs. Thrale and Johnson's Mortification — 
 Application for Johnson not Successful — Johnson in the Rain at 
 Uttoxeter-Market — Imitators and Parodists of Johnson's Style — 
 Johnson's Last Days — His Provision for His Servant Francis Barber 
 
 — Incidents of His Final Illness — Johnson's Death — His Burial 
 in Westminster Abbey. A 
 
 And now I am arrived at the last year of the life of Samuel 
 Johnson, a year in which, although passed in severe indispo- 
 sition, he nevertheless gave many evidences of the continuance 
 of those wondrous powers of mind, which raised him so high 
 in the intellectual world. His conversation and his letters 
 of this year were in no respect inferior to those of former years. 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq, 
 11 Dear Sir, 
 
 "I hear of many inquiries which your kindness has disposed 
 you to make after me. I have long intended you a long letter 
 which perhaps the imagination of its length hindered me from 
 beginning. I will, therefore, content myself with a shorter. 
 
 " Having promoted the institution of a new club in the 
 neighborhood, at the house of an old servant of Thrale's, I 
 went thither to meet the company, and was seized with a 
 spasmodic 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 I shall be able to go even to 
 church. The asthma,, however, is not the worst. A dropsy 
 
 208 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 209 
 
 gains ground upon me, my legs and thighs are very much 
 swollen with water, which I should be content if I could 
 keep there; but I am afraid that it will soon be higher. My 
 nights are very sleepless and very tedious. And yet I 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, I 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, in- 
 deed, he died ; but he was. I believe, past hope when he went. 
 Think for me what I can do. 
 
 "I 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, politics, 
 and pamphlets. Let me have your prayers. My compli- 
 ments to your lady and young ones. Ask your physicians 
 about my case: and desire Sir Alexander Dick to write me 
 his opinion. 
 
 "I am, dear Sir, &c. 
 "Feb. 11, 1784." "Sam. Johnson." 
 
 What follows is a beautiful specimen of his gentleness and 
 complacency to a young lady, his god-child, one of the daugh- 
 ters of his friend Mr. Langton, then I think in her seventh 
 year. He took the trouble to write it in a large round hand, 
 nearly resembling printed characters, that she might have 
 the satisfaction of reading it herself. The original lies before 
 me, but shall be faithfully restored to her; and I dare say 
 will be preserved by her as a jewel, as long as she lives. 
 
 " To Miss Jane Langton, in Rochester, Kent. 
 "My Dearest Miss Jenny, 
 
 "I am sorry that your pretty letter has been so long with- 
 out being answered; but, when I am not pretty well, I do not 
 
210 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 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 neces- 
 sary. Your books will give you knowledge, and make you 
 respected; and your needle will find you useful employment 
 when you do not care to read. When you are a little older, 
 I hope you will be very diligent in learning arithmetic; 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." 
 
 On Wednesday, May 5, I arrived in London, and next 
 morning had the pleasure to find Dr. Johnson greatly re- 
 covered. I but just saw him; for a coach was waiting to 
 carry him to Islington, to the house of his friend the Reverend 
 Mr. Strahan, where he went sometimes for the benefit of 
 good air, which, notwithstanding his having formerly laughed 
 at the general opinion upon the subject, he now acknowledged 
 was conducive to health. 
 
 On Saturday, May 15, 1 dined with him at Dr. Brocklesby's, 
 where were Colonel Valiancy, Mr. Murphy, and that ever- 
 cheerful companion Mr. Devaynes, apothecary to his Ma- 
 jesty. Of these days, and others on which I saw him, I 
 have no memorials, except the general recollection of his 
 being able and animated in conversation, and appearing to 
 relish society as much as the youngest man. When a person 
 was mentioned, who said "I have lived fifty-one years in 
 this world, without having had ten minutes of uneasiness;" 
 he exclaimed, "The man who says so, lies; he attempts to 
 impose on human credulity." 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? ' " 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 211 
 
 Johnson finding himself thus presented as giving an instance 
 of a man who had lived without uneasiness, was much of- 
 fended, for he looked upon such a quotation as unfair, his 
 anger burst out in an unjustifiable retort, insinuating that 
 the gentleman's remark was a sally of ebriet}^; "Sir, there is 
 one passion I would advise you to command : when you have 
 drunk out that glass, don't drink another." Here was exem- 
 plified what Goldsmith said of him, with the aid of a very 
 witty image from one of Cibber's Comedies: " There is no 
 arguing with Johnson : for if his pistol misses fire, he knocks 
 you down with the butt end of it." 
 
 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 a reflection upon his apprehen- 
 sion as to death; and said with heat, a How can a man know 
 where his departed 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 friendships are 
 formed by caprice or by chance, mere confederacies in vice 
 or leagues in folly." 
 
 We talked of our worthy friend Mr. Langton. He said, "I 
 know not who will go to Heaven if Langton does not. Sir, I 
 could almost say, Sit anirna mea cum Langtono." 1 I men- 
 tioned a very eminent friend as a virtuous man. Johnson. 
 "Yes, Sir; but — has not the evangelical virtue of Langton." 
 
 He however charged Mr. Langton with what he thought 
 want of judgment upon an interesting occasion. "When I 
 was ill, (said he) I desired he would tell me sincerely in what 
 he thought my life was faulty. Sir, he brought me a sheet 
 of paper, on which he had written down several texts of 
 Scripture, recommending Christian charity. And when I 
 questioned him what occasion I had given for such an animad- 
 version, all that he could say amounted to this, — that 1 
 sometimes contradicted people in conversation. Now what 
 harm does it do to any man to be contradicted?" Boswell. 
 1 May my soul be with Langton. 
 
212 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 "I suppose he meant the maimer 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 I related this conference, said, "It is well, if when a 
 man comes to die, he has nothing heavier upon his conscience 
 than having been a little rough in conversation." 
 
 Johnson, at the time when the paper was presented to him, 
 though at first pleased with the attention of his friend, whom 
 he thanked in an earnest manner, soon exclaimed in a loud and 
 angry tone, "What is your drift, Sir?" Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds pleasantly observed, that it was a scene for a comedy, 
 to see a penitent get into a violent passion and belabor his 
 confessor. '- 
 
 He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his first 
 jaunt after his illness; we talked of it for some days, and I had 
 promised to accompany him. He was impatient and fretful 
 to-night, because I did not at once agree to go with him on 
 Thursday. When I considered how ill he had been, and what 
 allowance should be made for the influence of sickness upon 
 his temper, I resolved to indulge him, though with some in- 
 convenience to myself, as I wished to attend the musical 
 meeting in honor of Handel, in Westminster Abbey, on the 
 following Saturday. 
 
 In the midst of his own diseases and pains, he was ever 
 compassionate to the distress of others, and actively earnest 
 in procuring them aid, as appears from a note to Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, of June, in these words: "I am ashamed to ask 
 for some relief for a poor man, to whom, I hope, I have given 
 what I can be expected to spare. The man importunes me, 
 and the blow goes round. I am going to try another air on 
 Thursday." 
 
 On Thursday, June 3, the Oxford Post-coach took us up 
 in the morning at Bolt-court. The other two passengers 
 were Mrs. Beresford and her daughter, two very agreeable 
 ladies from America; they were going to Worcestershire, 
 where they then resided. Frank had been sent by his master 
 the day before to take places for us; and I found from the 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 213 
 
 way-bill that Dr. Johnson had made our names be put down. 
 Mrs. Beresford, who had read it, whispered me, "Is this the 
 great Dr. Johnson?" I told her it was; so she was then 
 prepared to listen. As she soon happened to mention in a 
 voice so low that Johnson did not hear it, that her husband 
 had been a member of the American Congress, I cautioned 
 her to beware of introducing that subject, as she must know 
 how very violent Johnson was against the people of that 
 country. He talked a great deal. But I am sorry I have 
 preserved little of the conversation. Miss Beresford was 
 so much charmed, that she said to me aside, "How he does 
 talk! Every sentence is an essay." She amused herself 
 in the coach with knotting; he would scarcely allow this 
 species of employment any merit. "Next to mere idleness 
 (said he) I think knotting is to be reckoned in the scale of 
 insignificance; though I once attempted to learn knotting. 
 Dempster's sister (looking to me) endeavored to teach me it; 
 but I made no progress." 
 
 I was surprised at his talking without reserve in the public 
 post-coach of the state of his affairs; "I have (said he) about 
 the world I think above sl thousand pounds, which I intend 
 shall afford Frank an annuity of seventy pounds a year." 
 Indeed his openness with people at a first interview was 
 remarkable. He said once to Mr. Langton, "I think I am 
 like Squire Richard in The Journey to London, 'I'm never 
 strange in a strange place.'" He was truly social. He 
 strongly censured what is much too common in England 
 among persons of condition, — maintaining an absolute 
 silence, when unknown to each other; as, for instance, when 
 occasionally brought together in a room before the master 
 or mistress of the house has appeared. "Sir, that is being 
 so 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 
 humor from such a cause. He scolded the waiter, saying, 
 
214 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 "It is as bad as bad can be: it is ill-fed, ill-killed, ill-kept, 
 and ill-dressed/' 
 
 He bore the journey very well, and seemed to feel himself 
 elevated as he approached Oxford, that magnificent and vener- 
 able seat of Learning, Orthodoxy, and Toryism. Frank 
 came in the heavy coach, in readiness to attend him; and 
 we were received with the most polite hospitality at the house 
 of his old friend Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, 
 who had given us a kind invitation. Before we were set 
 down, I communicated to Johnson, my having engaged to 
 return to London directly, for the reason I have mentioned, 
 but that I would hasten back to him again. He was pleased 
 that I had made this journey merely to keep him company. 
 He was easy and placid, with Dr. Adams, Mrs. and Miss 
 Adams, and Mrs. Kennicot, widow of the learned Hebraean, 
 who was here on a visit. He soon dispatched inquiries the 
 which were made about his illness and recovery, by a short 
 and distinct narrative ; and then assuming a gay air, repeated 
 from Swift, 
 
 "Nor think on our approaching ills, 
 And talk of spectacles and pills." 
 
 I fulfilled my intention by going to London, and returned to 
 Oxford on Wednesday, the 9th of June, when I was happy to 
 find myself again in the same agreeable circle at Pembroke 
 College, with the comfortable prospect of making some stay. 
 Johnson welcomed my return with more than ordinary 
 glee. 
 
 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 Isis, about two miles from 
 Oxford. While we were upon the road I had the resolution 
 to ask Johnson whether he thought that the roughness of 
 his manner had been an advantage or not, and if he would 
 not have done more good if he had been more gentle. I pro- 
 ceeded to answer myself thus: "Perhaps it has been of ad- 
 vantage, as it has given weight to what you said: you could 
 not, perhaps, have talked with such authority without it." 
 Johnson. "No, Sir, I have done more good as I am. Ob- 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 215 
 
 scenity and Impiety have always been repressed in my com- 
 pany." Boswell. "True, Sir; and that is more than can 
 be said of every Bishop. Greater liberties have been taken 
 in the presence of a Bishop, though a very good man, from 
 his being milder, and therefore not commanding such awe. 
 Yet, Sir, many people who might have been benefited by 
 your conversation have been frightened away. A worthy 
 friend of ours has told me, that he has often been afraid to 
 talk to you." Johnson. "Sir, he need not have been afraid, 
 if he had anything rational to say. If he had not, it was 
 better he did not talk." 
 
 On Wednesday, June 19, Dr. Johnson and I returned to 
 London; he was not well to-day, and said very little, employ- 
 ing himself chiefly in reading Euripides. He expressed some 
 displeasure at me, for not observing sufficiently the various 
 objects upon the road. "If I had your eyes, Sir, (said he,) 
 I should count the passengers." It was wonderful how accu- 
 rate his observations of visual objects were, notwithstanding 
 his imperfect 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. 
 
 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." 
 
 Johnson having argued for some time with a pertinacious 
 gentleman; his opponent, who had talked in a very puzzling 
 
216 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 manner, happened to say, "I don't understand you, Sir;" 
 upon which Johnson observed, "Sir, I have found you an 
 argument; but I am not obliged to find you an understanding." 
 
 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 therefore caught himself, and pro- 
 nounced a more round sentence; "It has not vitality enough 
 to preserve it from putrefaction." 
 
 No man was more ready to make an apology when he had 
 censured unjustly than Johnson. When a proof-sheet of 
 one of his works was brought to him, he found fault with 
 the mode in which a part of it was arranged, refused to read 
 it, and in a passion desired that the compositor might be 
 sent to him. The compositor was Mr. Manning, a decent 
 sensible man, who had composed about one half of his Dic- 
 tionary, when in Mr. Strahan's printing-house; and a great 
 part of his Lives of the Poets, when in that of Mr: Nichols; 
 and who (in his seventy-seventh year) when in Mr. Baldwin's 
 printing-house, composed a part of the first edition of this 
 work concerning him. By producing the manuscript, he at 
 once satisfied Dr. Johnson that he was not to blame. Upon 
 which Johnson candidly and earnestly said to him, "Mr. 
 Compositor, I ask your pardon; Mr. Compositor, I ask your 
 pardon, again and again." 
 
 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 attitudinise." And when another gentleman thought 
 he was giving additional force to what he uttered, by expres- 
 sive movements of his hands, Johnson fairly seized them, 
 and held them down. 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 217 
 
 On Tuesday, June 22, I dined with him at The Literary 
 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 showed 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. 
 
 The anxiety of his friends to preserve so estimable a life, 
 as long as human means might be supposed to have influence, 
 made them plan for him a retreat from 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, how- 
 ever, I understood was necessary to be previously settled, 
 which was obtaining such an addition to his income, as would 
 be sufficient to enable him to defray the expense in a manner 
 becoming the first literary character of a great nation, and 
 independent of all his other merits, the author of The Dic- 
 tionary of the English Language. The person to whom I 
 above all others thought I should apply to negotiate 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 illustrious 
 friend to solicit for him the favor of such a man. I 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 Thurlow. When I am to meet with him, I should 
 wish to know a day before." How he would have prepared 
 himself, I cannot conjecture. Would he have selected cer- 
 tain topics, and considered them in every view, so as to be in 
 readiness to argue them at all points? and what may we 
 suppose those topics to have been? I once started the curious 
 inquiry to the great man who was the subject of this compli- 
 ment: he smiled, but did not pursue it. 
 
 I first consulted with Sir Joshua Reynolds, who perfectly 
 
218 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 coincided in opinion with me; and I therefore, though per- 
 sonally very little known to his Lordship, wrote to him, 
 stating the case, and requesting his good offices for Dr. 
 Johnson. I mentioned that I was obliged to set out for 
 Scotland early in the following week, so that if his Lordship 
 should have any commands for me as to this pious negotia- 
 tion, 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 suspicion of it. Any insinua- 
 tions, therefore, which since his death have been thrown out, 
 as if he had stooped to ask what was superfluous, are without 
 any foundation. 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 I believe than he 
 himself, in his carelessness concerning worldly matters, knew 
 it to be, had he traveled upon the Continent, an augmenta- 
 tion of his income would by no means have been unnecessary. 
 
 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 I had taken 
 the most effectual measures to make such a scheme practi- 
 cable. 
 
 On Monday, June 28, I had the honor to receive from the 
 Lord Chancellor the following letter: 
 
 " To James Boswell, Esq. 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 "I should have answered your letter immediately; if, 
 (being much engaged when I 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 argument, I 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 converse with Sir Joshua on the sum it 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 219 
 
 will be proper to ask, — in short, upon the means of setting 
 him out. It would be a reflection on us all, if such a man 
 should perish for want of the means to take care of his 
 health. 
 
 "Yours, &c. 
 "Thurlow." 
 
 This letter gave me a very high satisfaction; I next day 
 went and showed it to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was ex- 
 ceedingly pleased with it. He thought that I should now 
 communicate the negotiation to Dr. Johnson, who might 
 afterwards complain if the attention with which he had been 
 honored should be too long concealed from him. I intended 
 to set out for Scotland next morning; but Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds 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 today. Boswell. "I am 
 very anxious about you, Sir, and particularly that you should 
 go to Italy for the winter, which I believe is your own wish." 
 Johnson. "It is, Sir." Boswell. "You have no objections, 
 I presume, but the money it would require." Johnson. 
 "Why, no, Sir. "■ — Upon which I gave him a particu- 
 lar 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." — "0, Sir, (said I, with most sincere affection,) 
 your friends would do everything 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." 
 I was so affected that I also shed tears. — After a short 
 silence, he renewed and extended his grateful benediction. 
 "God bless you all, for Jesus Christ's sake." We both re- 
 mained for some time unable to speak. — He rose suddenly 
 and quitted the room, quite melted in tenderness. He stayed 
 but a short time, till he had recovered his firmness ; soon after 
 he returned I left him, having first engaged him to dine at Sir 
 
220 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 Joshua Reynolds's next day. — I never was again under that 
 roof which I had so long reverenced. 
 
 On Wednesday, June 30, the friendly confidential dinner 
 with Sir Joshua Reynolds took place, no other company being 
 present. Had I known that this was the last time that I 
 should enjoy in this world the conversation of a friend whom 
 I so much respected, and from whom I derived so much 
 instruction and entertainment, I 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 I were so sanguine in our expectations, 
 that we expatiated with confidence on the liberal provision 
 which we were sure would be made for him, conjecturing 
 whether munificence would be displayed in one large dona- 
 tion, or in an ample increase of his pension. He himself 
 catched so much of our enthusiasm, as to allow himself to 
 suppose it not impossible that our hopes might in one way or 
 other be realized. 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 splendor, 
 how long soever it might be." Considering 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 splendor. 
 
 I 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, from 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 pathetic 
 briskness, if I may use that expression, which seemed to 
 indicate a struggle to conceal uneasiness, and impressed me 
 with a foreboding of our long, long separation. 
 
 I remained one day more in town, to have the chance of 
 talking over my negotiation with the Lord Chancellor: but 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 221 
 
 the multiplicity of his Lordship's important engagements 
 did not allow of it; so I left the management of the business 
 in the hands of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 Soon after this time Dr. Johnson had the mortification 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 music master. He 
 endeavored to prevent it; but in vain. If she would publish 
 the whole of the correspondence that passed between Dr. 
 Johnson and her on the subject, we should have a full view 
 of his real sentiments. As it is, our judgment must be 
 biased by that characteristic specimen which Sir John Hawkins 
 has given us: "Poor Thrale, I thought that either her virtue 
 or her vice would have restrained her from such a marriage. 
 She has now become a subject for her enemies to exult over; 
 and for her friends, if she has any left, to forget or pity." 
 
 By a letter from Sir Joshua Reynolds, I was informed, that 
 the Lord Chancellor had called on him, and acquainted him 
 that the application had not been successful; but that his 
 Lordship, after speaking highly in praise of Johnson, as a 
 man who was an honor 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 mean- 
 ing 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 men- 
 tioned, 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 I hope are not neces- 
 sary between you and me, to convince you what gratitude 
 is excited in my heart by the Chancellor's liberality, and 
 your kind offices." 
 
 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 
 
222 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 himself of having been an undutiful son. "Once, indeed, 
 (said he) I was disobedient ; I refused to attend my father to 
 Uttoxeter-market. Pride was the source of that refusal, and 
 the remembrance of it was painful. A few years ago I desired 
 to atone for this fault. I went to Uttoxeter in very bad 
 weather and stood for a considerable time bareheaded in 
 the rain, on the spot where my father's stall used to stand. 
 In contrition I stood, and I hope the penance was expiatory. " 
 
 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, and however complicated diseases 
 might depress ordinary mortals, all who saw him beheld and 
 acknowledged the invictum animum Catonis. 1 Such was his 
 intellectual ardor even at this time, that he said to one 
 friend, "Sir, I look upon every day to be lost, in which I do 
 not make a new acquaintance;" and to another, when talking 
 of his illness, "I will be conquered; I will not capitulate." 
 And such was his love of London, so high a relish had he of 
 its magnificent extent, and variety of intellectual enter- 
 tainment, that he languished when absent from it, his mind 
 having become quite luxurious from the long habit of enjoying 
 the metropolis; and, therefore, although at Lichfield sur- 
 rounded with friends who loved and revered him, and for 
 whom he had a very sincere affection, he still found that such 
 conversation as London affords could be found nowhere else. 
 These feelings, joined, probably, to some flattering hopes of 
 aid from the eminent physicians and surgeons in London, 
 who kindly and generously attended him without accepting 
 fees, made him resolve to return to the capital. 
 
 He arrived in London the 16th of November, and next 
 day sent to Dr. Burney the following note, which I insert 
 as the last token of his remembrance of that ingenious and 
 amiable man, and as another of the many proofs of the ten- 
 derness and benignity of his heart: 
 
 1 The unconquerable mind of Cato. 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 223 
 
 "Mr. Johnson, who came home last night, sends his re- 
 spects to dear Dr. Burney, and all the dear Burneys, little 
 and great." 
 
 Soon after Johnson's return to the metropolis, both the 
 asthma and dropsy became more violent and distressful. 
 He had for some time kept a journal in Latin of the state of 
 his illness, and the remedies which he used, under the title of 
 Mgri Ephemeris, which he began 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 possession; and is written with great care and 
 accuracy. 
 
 I shall now fulfill my promise of exhibiting specimens of 
 various sorts of imitation of Johnson's style. 
 
 The ludicrous imitators of Johnson's style are innumerable. 
 Their general method is to accumulate hard words, without 
 considering, that, although he was fond of introducing them 
 occasionally, there is not a single sentence in all his writings 
 where they are crowded together, as in the first verse of the 
 following imaginary Ode by him to Mrs. Thrale, which ap- 
 peared in the newspapers: 
 
 "Cervisial coctor's viduate dame, 
 Opins't thou this gigantic frame, 
 
 Procumbing at thy 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 Proposals for a Glossary 
 or Vocabulary of the Vulgar Tongue: intended as a Supple- 
 ment to a larger Dictionary." It is evidently meant as a 
 sportive sally of ridicule on Johnson, whose style is thus 
 imitated without being grossly overcharged. "It is easy 
 to foresee, that the idle and illiterate will complain that I 
 
224 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 have increased their labors by endeavoring to diminish them: 
 and that I have explained what is more easy by what is more 
 difficult — ignotum per ignotius. I expect, on the other hand, 
 the liberal acknowledgments of the learned. He who is 
 buried in scholastic 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. 1 
 
 The serious imitators of Johnson's style, whether inten- 
 tionally or by the imperceptible effect of its strength and 
 animation, are, as I 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. I shall point out only 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 Lap- 
 lander has formed the reindeer to be subservient to his will; 
 and even the people of Kamschatka have trained their dogs 
 to labor. This command over the inferior creatures is one 
 of the noblest prerogatives of man, and among the greatest 
 efforts of his wisdom and power. Without this, his dominion 
 is incomplete. He is a monarch who has no subjects; a 
 master without servants; and must perform every operation 
 by the strength of his own arm." 
 
 1 Hodge-podge, — A culinary mixture of heterogeneous ingredients; 
 applied metaphorically to all discordant combinations. Tit for tat, — 
 Adequate retaliation. Rigmarole, — Discourse, incoherent and rhap- 
 sodical. 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 225 
 
 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 supplied by those of humanity. 
 The ardor of contention, the pride of victory, the despair of 
 success, the memory of past injuries, and the fear of future 
 dangers, all contribute to inflame the mind, and to silence 
 the voice of pity." 
 
 Miss Burney. 
 
 "My family, mistaking ambition for honor, and rank for 
 dignity, have long planned a splendid connection for me, to 
 which, though my invariable repugnance has stopped any 
 advances, their wishes and their views immovably adhere. 
 I am but too certain they will now listen to no other. I 
 dread, therefore, to make a trial where I despair of success; 
 I know not how to risk a prayer with those who may silence 
 me by a command." 
 
 My readers are now, at last, to behold Samuel Johnson pre- 
 paring himself for that doom, from which the most exalted 
 powers afford no exemption to man. Death had always been 
 to him an object of terror; 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 pleased 
 to be told that he looked better. An ingenious member of 
 the Eumelian Club informs me, that upon one occasion, 
 when he said to him that he saw health returning to his 
 cheek, Johnson seized him by the hand and exclaimed, "Sir, 
 you are one of the kindest friends I ever had." 
 
 It is not my intention to give a very minute detail of 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 gratifying to the curiosity of my 
 readers to record a few circumstances, on the authenticity 
 of which they may perfectly rely, as I have been at the 
 
226 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 utmost pains to obtain an accurate account of his last ill- 
 ness, from the best authority. 
 
 Having no other relations, it had been for some time 
 Johnson's intention to make a liberal provision for his faith- 
 ful servant, Mr. Francis Barber, whom he looked 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 favorite 
 servant, and being answered that it must depend on the 
 circumstances of the master; and, that in the case of a noble- 
 man, fifty pounds a year was considered as an adequate 
 reward for many years' faithful service; — "Then, (said 
 Johnson,) shall I be nobilissimus, 1 for I mean to leave Frank 
 seventy pounds a year, and I desire you to tell him so." 
 It is strange, however, to think, that Johnson 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. 
 
 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 10th of November to 
 the 13th of December, the day of his death, inclusive, and 
 has favored 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 moriens deficiente manu. 2 And I think it highly 
 to the honor of Mr. Windham, that his important occupations 
 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 
 
 1 Superlatively noble. 
 
 2 Dying, may I hold you by my failing hand. 
 
Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 227 
 
 would not be a delight to me/ Mr. Burke, in a tremulous 
 voice, expressive of being very tenderly affected, replied, i My 
 dear Sir, you have always been too good to me/ Immediately 
 afterwards he went away. This was the last circumstance in 
 the acquaintance of these two eminent men." 
 
 Amidst the melancholy clouds which hung over the dying 
 Johnson, his characteristical manner showed itself on different 
 occasions. 
 
 When Dr. Warren, in the usual style, hoped that he was 
 better, his answer was, "No, Sir; you cannot conceive 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 morning how he 
 liked his attendant, his answer was, "Not at all, Sir: the 
 fellow's an idiot; he is as awkward as a turn-spit when first 
 put into the wheel, and as sleepy as a dormouse." 
 
 Mr. Windham having placed a pillow conveniently to sup- 
 port him, he thanked him for his kindness, and said, "That 
 will do, — all that a pillow can do." 
 
 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 impor- 
 tance :' he also explained 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 begged 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 
 breathing increased till about seven o'clock in the evening, 
 when Mr. Barber and Mrs. Desmoulins, who were sitting in 
 
228 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 
 
 the room, observing that the noise he made in breathing had 
 ceased, went to the bed, and found he was dead." 
 
 A few days 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 Westminster Abbey," seemed 
 to feel a satisfaction, very natural to a Poet; and indeed in 
 my opinion very natural to every man of any imagination, 
 who has no 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. 
 
 Matis suae 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 honored with the 
 presence of several of the Reverend Chapter of Westminster. 
 Mr. Burke, Sir Joseph Banks, Mr. Windham, Mr. Langton, 
 Sir Charles Bunbury, and Mr. Colman, bore his pall. His 
 school-fellow, Dr. Taylor, performed the mournful office of 
 reading the burial service. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 Conclusion 
 
 Johnson as Guide, Philosopher, and Friend — His Figure and 
 Countenance — Traits of His Character — His Moral Precepts and 
 Maxims — His Union of a Logical Head with a Fertile Imagination 
 — His Intellectual Strength and Dexterity. 
 
 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, there- 
 fore, not say one word of my own, but adopt those of an emi- 
 nent friend, which he uttered with an abrupt felicity, superior 
 to all studied compositions: — "He has made a chasm, which 
 not only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a tend- 
 ency 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." 
 
 The character of Samuel Johnson has, I trust, been so 
 developed in the course of this work, that they, who have 
 honored it with a perusal, may be considered as well ac- 
 quainted with him. As, however, it may be expected that 
 I should collect into one view the capital and distinguishing 
 features of this extraordinary man, I shall endeavor to acquit 
 myself of that part of my biographical undertaking, however 
 difficult it may be to do that which many of my readers 
 will do better for themselves. 
 
 His figure was large and well formed, and his countenance of 
 the cast of an ancient statue; yet his appearance was ren- 
 dered strange and somewhat uncouth, by convulsive cramps, 
 by the scars of that distemper 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 
 
 229 
 
230 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 
 
 govern, and even supply the deficiency of organs, that his 
 visual perceptions, as far as they extended, were uncom- 
 monly quick and accurate. So morbid was his temperament, 
 that he never knew the natural joy of a free and vigorous 
 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 horse; but was carried as if in a balloon. 
 That with his constitution and habits of life he should have 
 lived seventy-five years is a proof that an inherent vivida 
 vis 1 is a powerful preservative of the human frame. 
 
 Man is, in general, made up of contradictory qualities; and 
 these will ever show 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 pro- 
 portion to the native vigor 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, however, in 
 any great or essential article, upon which he had fully em- 
 ployed his mind, and settled certain principles 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 marvelous and the mysterious, his vigorous 
 reason examined the evidence with jealousy. He was a 
 sincere 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 politics. His being impressed with the danger of extreme 
 latitude in either, though he was of a very independent spirit, 
 occasioned his appearing somewhat unfavorable to the prev- 
 alence of that noble freedom of sentiment which is the best 
 possession of man. Nor can it be denied, that he had many 
 prejudices; which, however, frequently suggested many of 
 1 Vital impulse. 
 
LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 231 
 
 his pointed sayings, that rather show 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, which showed itself not only in a most liberal charity, 
 as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a thousand 
 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 thinking: 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 
 uttering 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 particularly 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 labors 
 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 miser- 
 able." 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 collec- 
 tion of learning and knowledge, which was so arranged in 
 
232 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 
 
 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 thinking, the art of using 
 his mind; a certain continual power of seizing the useful sub- 
 stance of all that he knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and 
 forcible manner; 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 acquain- 
 tance with human nature. His maxims carry conviction; 
 for they are founded on the basis of common 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 remarkable, that, however rich his prose is 
 in this respect, his poetical pieces, in general, have not much 
 of that splendor, but are rather distinguished by strong 
 sentiment and acute observation, conveyed in harmonious and 
 energetic verse, particularly in heroic couplets. Though 
 usually grave, and even awful in his deportment, he possessed 
 uncommon and peculiar powers of wit and humor; he fre- 
 quently indulged himself in colloquial pleasantry; and the 
 heartiest merriment was often enjoyed in his company; 
 with this great advantage, that, as it was entirely free from 
 any poisonous tincture of vice or impiety, it was salutary 
 to those who shared in it. He had accustomed himself to 
 such accuracy in his common conversation, that he at all 
 times expressed his thoughts with great force, and an elegant 
 choice of language, the effect of which was 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 reason 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 showing his powers, 
 he would often maintain the wrong side with equal warmth 
 and ingenuity; so that, when there was an audience, his 
 
LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 233 
 
 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 error permanent and pernicious, 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 ail his 
 conduct. 
 
 Such was Samuel Johnson, a man whose talents, acquire- 
 ments, 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. 
 
Diagram op Poets' Corner, 
 Westminster Abbey 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 I. Brief Excerpts from Dr. Johnson's Works 
 
 I had rather see the portrait of a dog that I know than all 
 the allegorical paintings they can show me in the world. 
 
 It is, I believe, a very just observation, that men's am- 
 bition is generally proportioned to their capacity. Provi- 
 dence seldom sends any into the world with an inclination 
 to attempt great things, who have not abilities likewise to 
 perform them. 
 
 There is a kind of anxious cleanliness which I have always 
 noted as the characteristic of a slattern; it is the super- 
 fluous scrupulosity of guilt, dreading discovery, and shunning 
 suspicion: it is the violence of an effort against habit, which, 
 being impelled by external motives, cannot stop at the middle 
 point. 
 
 The chief glory of every people arises from its authors: 
 whether I shall add anything by my own writings to the 
 reputation of English literature must be left to time: much 
 of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease; much 
 has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in 
 provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall 
 not think my employment useless or ignoble, if by my assist- 
 ance foreign nations and distant ages gain access to the 
 propagators of knowledge, and understand the teachers of 
 truth; if my labors afford light to the repositories of science, 
 and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to Milton, and to 
 Boyle. 
 
 When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on 
 my book, however defective, and deliver it to the world with 
 the spirit of a man that has endeavored well. 
 
 It is one of the common distresses of a writer to be within 
 a word of a happy period, to want only a single epithet to 
 give amplification its full force, to require only a correspond- 
 ent term in order to finish a paragraph with elegance and make 
 one of its members answer to the other : but these deficiencies 
 
 235 
 
236 EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 
 
 cannot always be supplied; and after a long study and vex- 
 ation, the passage is turned anew, and the web unwoven 
 that was so nearly finished. 
 
 It is commonly supposed that the uniformity of a studious 
 life affords no matter for a narration: but the truth is, that 
 of the most studious life a great part passes without study. 
 An author partakes of the common condition of humanity; 
 he is born and married like another man; he has hopes and 
 fears, expectations and disappointments, griefs and joys, 
 and friends and enemies, like a courtier or a statesman; nor 
 can I conceive why his affairs should not excite curiosity as 
 much as the whisper of a drawing-room, or the factions of a 
 camp. 
 
 Men of the pen have seldom any great skill in conquering 
 kingdoms, but they have strong inclination to give advice. 
 
 We are blinded in examining our own labors by innumer- 
 able prejudices. Our juvenile compositions please us be- 
 cause they bring to our minds the remembrance of youth; 
 our later performances we are ready to esteem because we 
 are unwilling to think that we have made no improvement; 
 what flows easily from the pen charms us because we read 
 with pleasure that which flatters our opinion of our own 
 powers; what was composed with great struggles of the mind 
 we do not easily reject because we cannot bear that so much 
 labor should be fruitless. 
 
 It should be diligently inculcated to the scholar, that unless 
 he fixes in his mind some idea of the time in which each man 
 of eminence lived, and each action was performed, with some 
 part of the contemporary history of the rest of the world, he 
 will consume his life in useless reading and darken his mind 
 with a crowd of unconnected events; his memory will be 
 perplexed with distant transactions resembling one another, 
 and his reflections be like a dream in a fever, busy and tur- 
 bulent, but confused and indistinct. 
 
 Composition is for the most part an effort of slow diligence 
 and steady perseverance, to which the mind is dragged by 
 necessity or resolution, and from which the attention is every 
 moment starting to more delightful amusements. 
 
237 
 
 Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion 
 and the last; and perhaps always predominates in proportion 
 to the strength of the contemplative faculties. 
 
 We do not indeed so often disappoint others as ourselves. 
 We not only think more highly than others of our own 
 abilities, but allow ourselves to form hopes which we never 
 communicate, and please our thoughts with employments 
 which none ever will allot us, and with elevations to which 
 we are never expected to rise; and when our days and years 
 have passed away in common business or common amuse- 
 ments, and we find at last that we have suffered our purposes 
 to sleep till the time of action is past, we are reproached only 
 by our own reflections; neither our friends nor our enemies 
 wonder that we live and die like the rest of mankind; that 
 we live without notice and die without memorial; they know 
 not what task we had proposed, and therefore cannot discern 
 "whether it is finished. 
 
 Every man, however hopeless his pretensions may appear 
 to all but himself, has some project by which he hopes to 
 rise to reputation; some art by which he imagines that the 
 notice of the world will be attracted; some quality good or 
 bad which discriminates him from the common herd of 
 mortals, and by which others may be persuaded to love or 
 compelled to fear him. 
 
 He only confers favors generously who appears, when they 
 are once conferred, to remember them no more. 
 
 Gratitude is a species of justice. 
 
 The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure 
 to pleasure but from hope to hope. 
 
 To be idle and to be poor have always been reproaches, 
 and therefore every man endeavors with his utmost care 
 to hide his poverty from others, and his idleness from him- 
 self. 
 
 No man ever yet became great by imitation. 
 
 Men are generally idle and ready to satisfy themselves 
 and intimidate the industry of others by calling that im- 
 possible which is only difficult. 
 
 The true art of memory is the art of attention. 
 
238 EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 
 
 It may be laid down as a position which will seldom de- 
 ceive, that when a man cannot bear his own company, there 
 is something wrong. 
 
 Such is the delight of mental superiority, that none on 
 whom nature or study has conferred it would purchase the 
 gifts of fortune by its loss. 
 
 Money and time are the heaviest burdens of life, and the 
 unhappiest of all mortals are those who have more of either 
 than they know how to use. 
 
 The greatest part of mankind have no other reason for 
 their .opinions than that they are in fashion. 
 
 The public pleasures of far the greater part of mankind 
 are counterfeit. 
 
 Poverty, like many other miseries of life, is often little 
 more than an imaginary calamity. Men often call them- 
 selves poor, not because they want necessaries, but because 
 they have not more than they want. 
 
 Just praise is only a debt, but flattery is a present. 
 
 It is always observable that silence propagates itself, and 
 that the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult 
 it is to find anything to say. 
 
 Familiar comedy is often more powerful on the theatre 
 than in the page; imperial tragedy is always less. 
 
 Most men think indistinctly and therefore cannot speak 
 with exactness. 
 
 The task of every other slave has an end. The rower in 
 time reaches the port; the lexicographer at last finds the 
 conclusion of his alphabet; only the hapless wit has his 
 labor always to begin, the call for novelty is never satisfied, 
 and one jest only raises expectation of another. 
 
 Young men in haste to be renowned too frequently talk of 
 books which they have scarcely seen.' 
 
 By numbers here from shame or censure free 
 All crimes are safe, but hated poverty. 
 This, only this, the rigid law pursues; 
 This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. 
 The sober trader at a tatter 'd cloak 
 Wakes from his dream, and labors for a joke 
 With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, 
 And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. 
 
EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 239 
 
 Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, 
 Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; 
 Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, 
 Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. 
 
 Has heaven reserved, in pity to the poor, 
 No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore? 
 No secret island in the boundless main? 
 No peaceful desert yet unclaim'd by Spain? 
 Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, 
 And bear oppression's insolence no more. 
 This mournful truth is ev'rywhere confess'd, 
 Slow rises worth, by poverty depress'd; 
 But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, 
 Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold 
 Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, 
 The groom retails the favors of his lord. 
 
 But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries 
 Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies. 
 Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r 
 Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, 
 Aghast you start, and scarce with aching sight 
 Sustain the approaching fire's tremendous light; 
 Swift from pursuing horrors take your way, 
 And leave your little All to flames a prey; 
 Then thro' the world a wretched vagrant roam, 
 For where can starving merit find a home? 
 In vain your mournful narrative disclose, 
 While all neglect, and most insult your woes. 
 
 (From London.) 
 
 On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, 
 How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide: 
 A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, 
 No dangers frignc him, and no labors tire; 
 O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, 
 Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; 
 No joys to him pacific sceptres yield, — 
 War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; 
 Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, 
 And one capitulate, and one resign: 
 Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; 
 "Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till naught remain 
 On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly, 
 And all be mine beneath the polar sky." 
 The march begins in military state, 
 And nations on his eye suspended wait; 
 Stern Famine guards the solitary coast, 
 And Winter barricades the realms of Frost: 
 He comes; nor want nor cold his course delay; — - 
 Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day: 
 The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, 
 And shows his miseries in distant lands; 
 
240 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, 
 While ladies interpose and slaves debate. 
 But did not Chance at length her error mend? 
 Did no subverted empire mark his end? 
 Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? 
 Or hostile millions press him to the ground? 
 His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, 
 A petty fortress, and a dubious hand. 
 He left the name, at which the world grew pale, 
 To point a moral, or adorn a tale. 
 
 (From The Vanity of Human Wishes.) 
 
 "Almighty and most merciful Father, who seest all our 
 miseries, and knowest all our necessities, look down upon 
 me, and pity me. Defend me from the violent incursion of 
 evil thoughts, and enable me to form and keep such reso- 
 lutions as may conduce to the discharge of the duties which 
 Thy Providence shall appoint me; and so help me, by Thy 
 Holy Spirit, that my heart may surely there be fixed where 
 true joys are to be found, and that I may serve Thee with a 
 pure affection and a cheerful mind. Have mercy upon me; 
 O God, have mercy upon me; years and infirmities oppress 
 me, terror and anxiety beset me. Have mercy upon me, my 
 Creator and my Judge. In all perplexities relieve and free 
 me; and so help me by Thy Holy Spirit, that I may now 
 commemorate the death of Thy Son our Saviour Jesus 
 Christ as that, when this short and painful life shall have 
 an end, I may, for His sake, be received to everlasting happi- 
 ness. Amen." (From Prayers and Meditations.) 
 
 II. Sayings and Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson 1 
 
 The Bishop of Killaloe [Dr. Barnard] informed me, that 
 at another time, when Johnson and Garrick were dining 
 together in a pretty large company, Johnson humorously 
 ascertaining the chronology of something, expressed himself 
 thus: "That was the year when I came to London with two- 
 pence half -penny in my pocket." Garrick overhearing him 
 exclaimed, "Eh? what do you say? with two-pence half- 
 penny in your pocket?" Johnson. "Why, yes; when I 
 
 1 From portions of Boswell not included in the text and from other 
 Bources. 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 241 
 
 came with two-pence half-penny in my pocket, and thou, 
 Davy, with three half-pence in thine. " (Bos well.) 
 
 Johnson told me, that as soon as he found that the speeches 
 [in the accounts of Parliamentary proceedings] were thought 
 genuine, he determined that he would write no more of 
 them; "for he would not be accessory to the propagation of 
 falsehood." And such was the tenderness of his conscience, 
 that a short time before his death he expressed his regret 
 for his having been the author of fictions which had passed 
 for realities. (Boswell.) 
 
 The character of a " respectable Hottentot," in Lord 
 Chesterfield's letters, has been generally understood to be 
 meant for Johnson, and I have no doubt that it was. But I 
 remember when the Literary Property of those letters was 
 contested in the Court of Sessions in Scotland, and Mr. 
 Henry Dundas, one of the counsel for the proprietors, read 
 this character as an exhibition of Johnson, Sir David Dal- 
 rymple, Lord Hailes, one of the Judges, maintained, with 
 some warmth, that it was not intended as a portrait of 
 Johnson, but of a late noble Lord, distinguished for abstruse 
 science. I have heard Johnson himself talk of the character 
 and say that it was meant for George Lord Lyttelton, in 
 which I could by no means agree; for his Lordship had 
 nothing of that violence which is a conspicuous feature in 
 the composition. Finding that my illustrious friend could 
 bear to have it supposed that it might be meant for him, I 
 said, laughingly, that there was one trait which unquestion- 
 ably did not belong to him; "he throws his meat anywhere 
 but down his throat." "Sir, (said he), Lord Chesterfield 
 never saw me eat in his life." (Boswell.) 
 
 Johnson, indeed, upon all other occasions, when I was in 
 his company, praised the very liberal charity of Garrick. I 
 once mentioned to him, "It is observed, Sir, that you attack 
 Garrick yourself, but will suffer nobody else to do it." John- 
 son (smiling), "Why, Sir, that is true." (Boswell.) 
 
 We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, "Sir, I make a 
 distinction between what a man may experience by the mere 
 strength of his imagination, and what imagination cannot 
 
242 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 possibly produce. Thus, suppose I should think that I saw 
 a form, and heard a voice cry, ' Johnson, you are a very 
 wicked fellow, and unless you repent you will certainly be 
 punished ; 1 my own unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon 
 my mind, that I might imagine I thus saw and heard, and 
 therefore I should not believe that an external communica- 
 tion had been made to me. But if a form should appear, 
 and a voice should tell me that a particular man had died at 
 a particular place, and a particular hour, a fact which I had 
 no apprehension of, nor any means of knowing, and this 
 fact, with all its circumstances, should afterwards be un- 
 questionably proved, I should, in that case, be persuaded 
 that I had supernatural intelligence imparted to me." 
 
 Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and fair state- 
 ment of Johnson's way of thinking upon the question, whether 
 departed spirits are ever permitted to appear in this world, 
 or in any way to operate upon human life. He has been 
 ignorantly misrepresented as weakly credulous upon that 
 subject; and, therefore, though I feel an inclination to dis- 
 dain and treat with silent contempt so foolish a notion con- 
 cerning my illustrious friend, yet as I find it has gained 
 ground, it is necessary to refute it. The real fact then is, 
 that Johnson had a very philosophical mind, and such a 
 rational respect for testimony, as to make him submit his 
 understanding to what was authentically proved, though he 
 could not comprehend why it was so. Being thus disposed, 
 he was willing to inquire into the truth of any relation of 
 supernatural agency, a general belief of which has prevailed 
 in all nations and ages. But so far was he from being the 
 dupe of implicit faith, that he examined the matter with a 
 jealous attention, and no man was more ready to refute its 
 falsehood when he had discovered it. Churchill in his poem 
 entitled The Ghost availed himself of the absurd credulity 
 imputed to Johnson, and drew a caricature of him under the 
 name of Pomposo, representing him as one of the be- 
 lievers of the story of a Ghost in Cock-lane, which, in the 
 year 1762, had gained very general credit in London. Many 
 of my readers, I am convinced, are to this hour under the 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 243 
 
 impression that Johnson was thus foolishly deceived. It will 
 therefore surprise ^them a good deal when they are informed 
 upon undoubted authority, that Johnson was one of those 
 by whom the imposture was detected. The story had be- 
 come so popular, that he thought it should be investigated; 
 and in this research he was assisted by the Reverend Dr. 
 Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, the great detector of 
 impostures; who informs me, that after the gentlemen who 
 went and examined into the evidence were satisfied of its 
 falsity, Johnson wrote in their presence an account of it, 
 which was published in the newspapers and Gentleman's 
 Magazine, and undeceived the world. [The account was as 
 follows: "On the night of the 1st of February, many gentle- 
 men eminent for their rank and character, were, by the 
 invitation of the Reverend Mr. Aldrich, of Clerkenwell, as- 
 sembled at his house, for the examination of the noises 
 supposed to be made by a departed spirit, for the detection 
 of some enormous crime. 
 
 " About ten at night the gentlemen met in the chamber in 
 which the girl, supposed to be disturbed by a spirit, had, 
 with proper caution, been put to bed by several ladies. 
 They sat rather more than an hour, and hearing nothing, 
 went downstairs, when they interrogated the father of the 
 girl, who denied, in the strongest terms, any knowledge or 
 belief of fraud. 
 
 "The supposed spirit had before publicly promised, by an 
 affirmative knock, that it would attend one of the gentlemen 
 into the vault under the church of St. John, Clerkenwell, 
 where the body is deposited, and give a token of her presence 
 there, by a knock upon her coffin ; it was therefore determined 
 to make this trial of the existence or veracity of the supposed 
 spirit. 
 
 "While they were enquiring and deliberating, they were 
 summoned into the girl's chamber by some ladies who were 
 near her bed, and who had heard knocks and scratches. 
 When the gentlemen entered, the girl declared that she felt 
 the spirit like a mouse upon her back, and was required to 
 hold her hands out of bed. From that time, though the 
 
244 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 spirit was very solemnly required to manifest its existence by 
 appearance, by impression on the hand or body of any 
 present, by scratches, knocks, or any other agency, no evi- 
 dence of any preternatural power was exhibited. 
 
 "The Spirit was then very seriously advertised that the 
 person to whom the promise was made of striking the coffin, 
 was then about to visit the vault, and that the performance of 
 the promise was then claimed. The company at one o'clock 
 went into the church, and the gentleman to whom the prom- 
 ise was made went with another into the vault. The spirit 
 was solemnly required to perform its promise, but nothing 
 more than silence ensued. The person supposed to be accused 
 by the spirit then went down with several others, but no 
 effect was perceived. Upon their return they examined the 
 girl, but could draw no confession from her. Between two 
 and three she desired and was permitted to go home with 
 her father. 
 
 "It is, therefore, the opinion of the whole assembly, that 
 the child has some art of making or counterfeiting a par- 
 ticular noise, and that there is no agency of any higher 
 cause."] (Boswell.) 
 
 He expressed great indignation at the imposture of the 
 Cock-lane Ghost and related, with much satisfaction, how 
 he had assisted in detecting the cheat, and had published an 
 account of it in the newspapers. (Boswell.) 
 
 Idleness is a disease which must be combated; but I 
 would not advise a rigid adherence to a particular plan of 
 study. I myself have never persisted in any plan for two 
 days together. A man ought to read just as inclination 
 leads him; for what he reads as a task will do him little 
 good. A young man should read five hours in a day, and so 
 may acquire a great deal of knowledge. (Boswell, quoting 
 Johnson.) 
 
 One day when dining at old Mr. Langton's, where Miss 
 Roberts, his niece, was one of the company, Johnson, with 
 his usual complacent attention to the fair sex, took her by 
 the hand and said, "My dear, I hope you are a Jacobite." 
 Old Mr. Langton, who, though a high and steady Tory, was 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 245 
 
 attached to the present Royal Family, seemed offended, and 
 asked Johnson, with great warmth, what he could mean by 
 putting such a question to his niece. "Why, Sir, (said John- 
 son,) I meant no offence to your niece, I meant her a great 
 compliment. A Jacobite, Sir, believes in the divine right of 
 Kings. He that believes in the divine right of Kings be- 
 lieves in a Divinity. A Jacobite believes in the divine right 
 of Bishops. He that believes in the divine right of Bishops 
 believes in the divine authority of the Christian religion. 
 Therefore, Sir, a Jacobite is neither an Atheist nor a Deist. 
 That cannot be said of a Whig; for Whiggism is a negation 
 of all principle." (Boswell.) 
 
 One day at Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that 
 Mrs. Montague, in an excess of compliment to the author of 
 a modern tragedy, had exclaimed, "I tremble for Shakes- 
 peare; " Johnson said, "When Shakespeare has got for 
 
 his rival, and Mrs. Montague for his defender, he is in a poor 
 state indeed. " (Boswell.) 
 
 "Lord Lytteiton's Dialogues, he deemed a nugatory per- 
 formance. 'That man, (said he,) sat down to write a book, 
 to tell the world what the world had all his life been telling 
 him." (Boswell.) 
 
 "Sir, (said Johnson,) I am a great friend to public amuse- 
 ments; for they keep people from vice." (Boswell.) 
 
 "The misfortune of Goldsmith in conversation is this: he 
 goes on without knowing how he is to get off. His genius is 
 great, but his knowledge is small. As they say of a generous 
 man, it is a pity he is not rich, we may say of Goldsmith, it 
 is a pity he is not knowing." (Boswell.) 
 
 I spoke of Allan Ramsay's Gentle Shepherd, in the Scottish 
 dialect, as the best pastoral that had ever been written; 
 not only abounding with beautiful rural imagery, and just 
 and pleasing sentiments, but being a real picture of manners; 
 and I offered to teach Dr. Johnson to understand it. "No, 
 Sir, (said he,) I won't learn it. You shall retain your 
 superiority by my not knowing it." (Boswell.) 
 
 There is nothing, I think, in which the power of art is 
 shown so much as in playing the fiddle. In all other things 
 
246 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 we can do something at first. Any man will forge a bar of 
 iron, if you give him a hammer; not so well as a smith, but 
 tolerably. A man will saw a piece of wood, and make a 
 box, though a clumsy one; but give him a fiddle, and a 
 fiddle-stick, and he can do nothing. (Boswell, quoting 
 Johnson.) 
 
 Johnson's own superlative powers of wit set him above 
 any risk of such uneasiness. Garrick had remarked to me 
 of him, a few days before, " Rabelais and all other wits are 
 nothing compared with him. You may be diverted by 
 them; but Johnson gives you a forcible hug, and shakes 
 laughter out of you, whether you will or no." (Boswell.) 
 
 He described the father of one of his friends thus: "Sir, 
 he was so exuberant a talker at public meetings, that the 
 gentlemen of his county were afraid of him. No business 
 could be done for his declamation." (Boswell.) 
 
 Next day I dined with Johnson at Mr. Thrale's. He 
 attacked Gray, calling him "a, dull fellow." Boswell. "I 
 understand he was reserved, and might appear dull in com- 
 pany; but surely he was not dull in poetry." Johnson. 
 "Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull every- 
 where. He was dull in a new way, and that made many 
 people think him great. He was a mechanical poet." 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 It is remarkable that he never, so far as I know, assumed 
 his title of Doctor, but he called himself Mr. Johnson, as ap- 
 pears from many of his cards or notes to myself, and I have 
 seen many from him to other persons, in which he uniformly 
 takes that designation. — I once observed on his table a 
 letter directed to him with the additional Esquire, and 
 objected to it as being a designation inferior to that of Doctor; 
 but he checked me, and seemed pleased with it, because, as 
 I conjectured, he liked to be sometimes taken out of the class 
 of literary men, and to be merely genteel, — un gentilhomme 
 comme un autre. (Boswell.) 
 
 Mrs. Thrale told us, that Tom Davies repeated, in a very 
 bald manner, the story of Dr. Johnson's first repartee to me 
 which I have related exactly. He made me say, "I was 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 247 
 
 born in Scotland," instead of "I come from Scotland;" so 
 that Johnson's saying, "That, Sir, is what a great many of 
 your countrymen cannot help," had no point or even mean- 
 ing: and that upon this being mentioned to Mr. Fitzherbert, 
 he observed, "It is not every man that can carry a bon-mot" 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 We were by no means pleased with our inn at Bristol. 
 "Let us see now, (said I,) how we should describe it." John- 
 son was ready with his raillery. "Describe it, Sir? — Why, 
 it was so bad, that Boswell wished to be in Scotland!" 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 Talking of biography, I said, in writing a life, a man's 
 peculiarities should be mentioned, because they mark his 
 character. Johnson. "Sir, there is no doubt as to peculi- 
 arities: the question is, whether a man's vices should be 
 mentioned; for instance, whether it should be mentioned 
 that Addison and Parnell drank too freely; for people will 
 probably more easily indulge in drinking from knowing this; 
 so that more ill may be done by the example, than good by 
 telling the whole truth." Here was an instance of his vary- 
 ing from himself in talk ; for when Lord Hailes and he sat one 
 morning calmly conversing in my house at Edinburgh, I well 
 remember that Dr. Johnson maintained, that "If a man is 
 to write A Panegyric, he may keep vices out of sight: but 
 if he professes to write A Life, he must represent it really as 
 it was;" and when I objected to the danger of telling that 
 Parnell drank to excess, he said, that "It would produce an 
 instructive caution to avoid drinking, when it was seen, that 
 even the learning and genius of Parnell could be debased by 
 it." And in the Hebrides he maintained, as appears from 
 my "Journal," that a man's intimate friend should mention 
 his faults, if he writes his life. (Boswell.) 
 
 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 country, and he took 
 no more notice of me than if I had been an ordinary man." 
 The company having laughed heartily, Johnson stood forth 
 in defense of his friend. "Nay, Gentlemen, (said he,) Dr. 
 
248 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 Goldsmith is in the right. A nobleman ought to have made 
 up to such a man as Goldsmith; and I think it is much 
 against Lord Camden that he neglected him." (Boswell.) 
 
 Boswell. "I drank chocolate, Sir, this morning with 
 Mr. Eld; and, to my no small surprise, found him to be a 
 Staffordshire Whig, a being which I did not believe had ex- 
 isted. Johnson. "Sir, there are rascals in all countries." 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 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 conversation in all com- 
 panies was such as to secure him universal attention, as some- 
 thing above the usual colloquial style was expected. (Boswell.) 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds having said that he took the altitude 
 of a man's taste by his stories and his wit, and of his under- 
 standing 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 amuse- 
 ments, — Johnson added, "Yes, Sir; no man is a hypocrite 
 in his pleasures." (Boswell.) 
 
 I started a thought this afternoon which amused us a 
 great part of the way. "If," said I, "our Club should come 
 and set up in St. Andrews, as a college, to teach all that each 
 of us can in the several departments of learning and taste, 
 we should rebuild the city: we should draw a wonderful 
 concourse of students." Dr. Johnson entered fully into the 
 spirit of this project. We immediately fell to distributing 
 the officers. I was to teach civil and Scotch law; Burke, 
 politics and eloquence; Garrick, the art of public speaking; 
 Langton was to be our Grecian, Colman our Latin professor; 
 Nugent to teach physic; Lord Charlemont, modern history; 
 Beauclerk, natural philosophy; Vesey, Irish antiquities, or 
 Celtic learning; Jones, Oriental learning; Goldsmith, poetry 
 and ancient history; Chamier, commercial politics; Rey- 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 249 
 
 nolds, painting, and the arts which have beauty for their 
 object; Chambers, the law of England. Dr. Johnson at 
 first said, "Fll trust theology to nobody but myself." But, 
 upon due consideration, that Percy is a clergyman, it was 
 agreed that Percy should teach practical divinity and British 
 antiquities; Dr. Johnson himself, logic, metaphysics, and 
 scholastic divinity. In this manner did we amuse ourselves, 
 each suggesting, and each varying or adding, till the whole 
 was adjusted. Dr. Johnson said, we only wanted a mathe- 
 matician since Dyer died, who was a very good one; but as 
 to everything else, we should have a very capital university. 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 "Why, Sir, if you are to have but one book with you upon 
 a journey, let it be a book of science. When you have read 
 through a book of entertainment, you know it, and it can 
 do no more for you; but a book of science is inexhaustible." 
 (Boswell.) 
 
 Talking of biography, he said, he did not think that the 
 life of any literary man in England had been well written. 
 Besides the common incidents of life, it should tell us his 
 studies, his mode of living, the means by which he attained 
 to excellence, and his opinion of his own works. (Boswell.) 
 
 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?" 
 "From bad habit," he replied: "do you, my dear, take care 
 to guard against bad habits." This was told by the young 
 lady's brother at Margate. (Boswell.) 
 
 Books that you may carry to the fire and hold readily in 
 your hand are the most useful after all. (Hawkins.) 
 
 I am very fond of the company of ladies. I like their 
 beauty, I like their delicacy, I like their vivacity, and I like 
 their silence. (Seward.) 
 
 The advice that is wanted is commonly unwelcome, and that 
 which is not wanted is evidently impertinent. (Piozzi Letters.) 
 
250 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 Allow children to be happy their own way, for what better 
 way will they ever find? (Piozzi Letters.) 
 
 "There are," said Dr. Johnson, "three distinct kinds of 
 judges upon all new authors or productions. The first are 
 those who know no rules, but pronounce entirely from their 
 natural tastes and feelings; the second are those who know 
 and judge by rules; and the third are those who know, but 
 are above the rules. These last are those you should wish 
 to satisfy. Next to them rate the natural judges; but ever 
 despise the opinions that are formed by the rules." (Madame 
 D'Arblay's Diary.) 
 
 Mr. Crauford being engaged to dinner where Dr. Johnson 
 was to be, resolved to pay his court to him; and having 
 heard that he preferred Donne's Satires to Pope's version 
 of them said, "Do you know, Dr. Johnson, that I like Dr. 
 Donne's original Satires better than Pope's?" Johnson said, 
 "Well, sir, I can't help that." (Murray's Johnsoniana.) 
 
 It was near the close of Johnson's life that two young 
 ladies, who were warm admirers of his works but had never 
 seen him, went to Bolt's Court and asking if he was at home, 
 were shown upstairs where he was writing. He laid down his 
 pen on their entrance; and, as'they stood before him, one of 
 the females repeated a speech of some length previously 
 prepared for the occasion. It was an enthusiastic effusion, 
 and when the speaker had finished, she panted for a reply. 
 What was her mortification when all he said was, "Fiddle- 
 de-dee, my dear." (Murray's Johnsoniana.) 
 
 In answer to the arguments urged by Puritans, Quakers, 
 etc., against showy decorations of the human figure, I once 
 heard him exclaim: "Oh, let us not be found, when our 
 Master calls us, ripping the lace off our waistcoats, but the 
 spirit of contention from our souls and tongues! . . . Alas! 
 sir, a man who cannot get to heaven in a green coat will not 
 find his way thither the sooner in a gray one." (Piozzi's 
 Anecdotes.) 
 
 I made one day very minute inquiries about the tale of 
 his knocking down Tom Osborne the bookseller. "And how 
 was that affair? in earnest? do tell me, Mr. Johnson." "There 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 251 
 
 is nothing to tell, dearest lady, but that he was insolent and 
 I beat him, and that he was a blockhead and told of it, which 
 I should never have done. I have beat many a fellow, but the 
 rest had the wit to hold their tongues." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 The size of a man's understanding may always be justly 
 measured by his mirth. (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 I asked Mr. Johnson if he ever disputed with his wife. 
 " Perpetually," said he; "my wife had a particular reverence 
 for cleanliness, and desired the praise of neatness in her dress 
 and furniture, as many ladies do, till they become trouble- 
 some to their best friends, slaves to their own besoms, and 
 only sigh for the hour of sweeping their husbands out of the 
 house as dirt and useless lumber. A clean floor is so com- 
 fortable, she would say sometimes by way of twitting; till 
 at last I told her that I thought we had had talk enough about 
 the floor, we would now have a touch at the ceiling." I 
 asked him if he ever huffed his wife about his dinner. "So 
 often," he replied, "that at last she called to me and said, 
 ' Nay, hold, Mr. Johnson, and do not make a farce of thank- 
 ing God for a dinner which in a few minutes you will protest 
 not eatable/ " (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 We talked of Lady Tavistock, who grieved herself to 
 death for the loss of her husband. "She w T as rich and with- 
 out employment," said Johnson, "so she cried till she lost 
 all power of restraining her tears: other women are forced 
 to outlive their husbands, who were just as much beloved, 
 depend on it; but they have no time for grief; and I doubt 
 not, if we had put Lady Tavistock into a small chandler's 
 shop, and given her a nurse-child to tend, her life would 
 have been saved. The poor and the busy have no leisure for 
 sentimental sorrow." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 Mrs. Brooke asked Johnson to look over her Siege of 
 Sinope; he always found means to evade it. At last she 
 pressed him so closely that he refused to do it, and told her 
 that she herself, by carefully looking it over, would be able 
 to see if there was anything amiss as well as he could. "But, 
 sir," said she, "I have no time. I have already too many 
 irons in the fire." "Why, then, madam," said he, quite out 
 
252 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 of patience, "the best thing I can advise you to do is to put 
 your tragedy along with your irons. " (Hannah More's 
 Memoirs.) 
 
 "A story/' said Johnson, "is a specimen of human manners 
 and derives its sole value from its truth. When Foote has 
 told me something, I dismiss it from my mind like a passing 
 shadow; when Reynolds tells me something, I consider my- 
 self as possessed of an idea the more." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 Every man has some time in his life an ambition to be a 
 wag. (Madame D'Arbky's Diary, quoting Johnson.) 
 
 A large party had been invited to meet the doctor at 
 Stow Hill. The dinner waited far beyond the usual hour, 
 and the company were about to sit down, when Johnson ap- 
 peared at the great gate. He stood for some time in deep 
 contemplation, and at length began to climb it; and, having 
 succeeded in clearing it, advanced with hasty strides towards 
 the house. On his arrival Mrs . Gastrcl asked him if he had 
 forgotten there was a small gate for foot-passengers by the 
 side of the carriage-entrance? "No, my dear lady, by no 
 means," replied the doctor; "but I had a mind to try whether 
 I could climb a gate now as I used to do when I was a lad." 
 (Parker.) 
 
 No man was ever mora zealously attached to his party: 
 he not only loved a Tory himself, but he loved a man the 
 better if he hated a Whig. "Dear Bathurst," said he to me 
 one day, "was a man to my very heart's content: he hated 
 a fool, and he hated a rogue, and he hated a Whig — he was 
 a very good hater." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 Mr. Thrale loved prospects, and was mortified that his 
 friend could not enjoy the sight of those different dispositions 
 of wood and water, hill and valley, that traveling through 
 England and France affords a man. But when he wished to 
 point them out to his companion, "Never heed such non- 
 sense," would be the reply; "a blade of grass is always a 
 blade of grass, whether in one country or another. Let us, 
 if we do talk, talk about something. Men and women are 
 my subjects of inquiry; let us see how these differ from those 
 we have left behind." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 253 
 
 One of Dr. Johnson's rudest speeches was to a pompous 
 gentleman coming out of Lichfield Cathedral, who said, 
 "Dr. Johnson, we have had a most excellent discourse to- 
 day." "That may be," said Johnson, "but it is impossible 
 that you should know it." (Cradock.) 
 
 A young fellow, very confident in his abilities, lamented 
 one day that he had lost all his Greek. "I believe it hap- 
 pened at the same time, sir," said Johnson, "that I lost all 
 my large estate in Yorkshire." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 
 
 Mrs. Thrale complained that she was quite worn out with 
 that tiresome silly woman who had talked of her family and 
 affairs till she was sick to death of hearing her. "Madam," 
 said he, "why do you blame the woman for the only sensible 
 thing she could do — talking of her family and her affairs? 
 For how should a woman who is as empty as a drum talk 
 upon any other subject? If you speak to her of the sun, she 
 does not know that it rises in the east. If you speak to her 
 of the moon, she does not know it changes at the full. If 
 you speak to her of the queen, she does not know she is the 
 king's wife. How, then, can you blame her for talking of her 
 family and affairs?" (Madame D'Arblay's Diary.) 
 
 Mrs. Digby was present at the introduction of Dr. Johnson 
 at one of the late Mrs. Montagu's literary parties, when she 
 herself, with several still younger ladies, almost immediately 
 surrounded our Colossus of literature (an odd figure, sure 
 enough) with more wonder than politeness; and while con- 
 templating him as if he had been some monster from the 
 deserts of Africa, Johnson said to them, "Ladies, I am tame; 
 you may stroke me! " (B. N. Turner.) 
 
 When Mrs. Siddons 1 came into the room, there happened 
 to be no chair ready for her. Observing this, he 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." (J. P. Kemble, reported in Boswell.) 
 
 I must here mention an incident which shows how ready 
 Johnson was to make amends for any little incivility. When 
 I called upon him the morning after he had pressed me rather 
 1 The famous actress. 
 
254 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 
 
 roughly to read louder, he said, "I was peevish yesterday; 
 you must forgive me. When you are as old and as sick as 
 I am, perhaps you may be peevish too." I have heard him 
 make many apologies of this kind. (Hoole.) 
 
 Garrick was followed to the Abbey by a long extended 
 train of friends, illustrious for their rank and genius. I saw 
 old Samuel Johnson standing beside his grave, at the foot of 
 Shakespeare's monument, and bathed in tears. (Richard 
 Cumberland.) 
 
 I shall never forget the impression I felt in Dr. Johnson's 
 favor the very first time I was in his company, on his saying 
 that, as he returned to his lodgings, at one or two o'clock in 
 the morning, he often saw poor children asleep on thresholds 
 and stalls, and that he used to put pennies into their hands 
 to buy them a breakfast. (Miss Reynolds.) 
 
NOTES 
 
 8. Minutely Critical. "His blindness is as much the effect of 
 absence [of mind] as of infirmity, for he sees wonderfully at times. 
 He can see the color of a lady's top-knot, for he very often finds 
 fault with it." — Madame D'Arblay's Diary, ii, 174. (Hill, i, 48.) 
 
 9. Carte. Thomas Carte (1686-1754) proposed to write a history 
 of England from original sources, but never proceeded further than 
 the reign of John. He cited an instance of the cure of scrofula by 
 the royal touch. (Hill, i, 49.) 
 
 9. Queen Anne. Macaulay (History of England, xiv) says that 
 Charles II, in the course of his reign, touched nearly a thousand 
 persons. The expense of the ceremony was little less than ten 
 thousand pounds a year. On March 30, 1712, two hundred persons 
 were touched by Queen Anne. (Hill, i, 50.) 
 
 9. Francesco Petrarch (1304-1374). An Italian scholar and poet, 
 whose researches helped to bring on the Renaissance. Dr. Johnson 
 read not Petrarch's Italian poems, but his learned works in Latin. 
 
 9. Anacreon. A Greek poet of the fifth century b.c. His verse 
 was mostly of a light character. 
 
 9. Hesiod. A Greek poet, probably contemporary with Homer. 
 He wrote didactic works, chief among which is the Works and Days. 
 
 10. Nineteenth year Dr. Hill has pointed out that this should 
 be his "twentieth year." 
 
 11. Robert Burton (1577-1640). "A melancholy and humorous 
 person," author of the Anatomy of Melancholy. Lamb called him 
 "that fantastic great old man." 
 
 11. Maerobius. A Latin grammarian and statesman of the fourth 
 century, who was hostile to Christianity. 
 
 11. Relieved Johnson once told Hawkins that he knew not 
 what it was to be totally free from pain. (Cf. Hill, i, 74.) 
 
 12. Insanity. "Of the uncertainties of our present state, the 
 most dreadful and alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason." 
 — Rasselas, Chap. 43. (Hill, i, 77.) 
 
 12. Horace (65-8 b.c). The pleasantest of Latin poets, author 
 of lyrics, epistles in verse, an essay on poetry, satires, etc. 
 
 12. Euripides (480-406 B.C.). The most modern in spirit of the 
 great Athenian tragic poets. 
 
 12. Epigram (Greek). The Greek Anthology contains a collection 
 of epigrams — brief, pithy poems not necessarily witty. 
 
 13. Richard Bentley (1662-1742). One of the greatest of English 
 classical scholars. 
 
 13. Samuel Clarke (1675-1729). A writer on theology. 
 13. From beginning to end. According to Mrs. Piozzi, Johnson 
 asked: "Was there ever yet anything written by mere man that was 
 
 255 
 
256 NOTES 
 
 wished longer by its readers excepting Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, 
 and The Pilgrim's Progress? " (Cf. Hill, i, 82.) 
 
 13. With rapid exertion. He told Dr. Burney, says Malone, that 
 he never wrote any of his works that were printed twice over. Dr. 
 Burney' s wonder at seeing several pages of his Lives of the Poets in 
 manuscript, with scarce a blot or erasure, drew this observation from 
 him. 
 
 15. The newspaper. The Birmingham Journal. 
 
 16. He wore his hair. That is, he did not wear a wig at this time. 
 16. Mrs. Porter. Born Feb. 4, 1689, married to Johnson, July 9, 
 
 1735. She brought her second husband about seven or eight hundred 
 pounds, it is believed. (Cf. Hill, i, 111.) 
 
 18. Usher of a school. For a brief period, Johnson had acted as 
 usher in the school of Market-Bosworth, in Leicestershire. Boswell 
 describes this episode of Johnson's life in a passage omitted in the 
 text. 
 
 18. Described her. Mrs. Piozzi remarks: "The picture I found 
 of her at Lichfield was very pretty, and her daughter said it was 
 very like. Mr. Johnson has told me that her hair was eminently 
 beautiful, quite blonde like that cf a baby." {Anecdotes, 148.) 
 
 19. Not particularly known. One curious anecdote was com- 
 municated by himself to Mr. John Nichols. Mr. Wilcox, the book- 
 seller, on being informed by him that his intention was to get his 
 livelihood as an author, eyed his robust frame attentively, and with 
 a significant look said, "You had better buy a porter's knot." He 
 however added, "Wilcox was one of my best friends." — Boswell. 
 
 21. Assurance of the man. "To give the world assurance of a 
 man." Hamlet, hi. 4.62. 
 
 21. Juvenal (55?-125?). A vitriolic Roman satirist. 
 
 22. He might dislike. Dr. Hill notes that Boswell misread the 
 letter. Johnson was to make any necessary alterations, not the 
 printer. 
 
 22. Alexander Pope (1688-1744). The greatest poet of the 
 eighteenth century, and yet, in modern opinion, not a poet at all, 
 but merely a writer of remarkably good verse. Pope is the inter- 
 preter of the town, of human nature, and of the upper classes in 
 society. Johnson cherished a very high opinion of Pope. He said 
 that the question "Was Pope a poet?" was to be answered only by 
 asking "If Pope be not a poet, where is poetry to be found?" 
 
 22. Mr. Richardson, son of the painter, Jonathan Richardson. 
 The latter wrote several works on painting. His son, also Jonathan, 
 published with his father Explanatory Notes on Paradise Lost. (Cf. 
 Hill, i, 149.) 
 
 22. Marmor Norfolciense. A pamphlet, published anonymously, 
 of "warm anti-Hanoverian zeal." 
 
 23. "Paper-sparing Pope. ,, "Pope's frugality," says Johnson 
 in his Life of Pope, "sometimes appeared in petty artifices of par- 
 simony, such as the practice of writing his compositions on the back 
 
NOTES 257 
 
 of letters, as may be seen in the remaining copy of the Iliad, by 
 which perhaps in five years five shillings were saved." But he ex- 
 cuses Pope in part because of his determination "not to be in want." 
 
 25. Kichard Savage (1697-1743). An unfortunate man and a 
 poor poet. Savage engaged in a famous lawsuit to prove his right 
 to a title, but unsuccessful^, and he died in poverty and obscurity. 
 Johnson's Life has preserved him from oblivion. Savage provided 
 Pope with information for his Dunciad and received pay for this. 
 His own writings are valueless, according to modern opinion. 
 Johnson's friendship for him, however, found his works "the pro- 
 ductions of a genius truly poetical," and he discovered in them "an 
 original air, which has no resemblance of any foregoing writer." 
 
 25. Melancholy to reflect. According to Walter Harte, author of 
 a Life of Gustavus Adolphus, who communicated the information to 
 Boswell, through Richard Stowe of Bedfordshire, Johnson's indi- 
 gence was extreme indeed at this time. Shortly after The Life of 
 Savage was published, Harte dined with Edward Cave, and praised 
 the book. Soon after Cave met him and said: "You made a man 
 happy t'other day." "How could that be?" asked Harte; "nobody 
 was there but ourselves." Cave answered by reminding him that 
 a plate of victuals had been sent behind a screen. This had gone to 
 Johnson, who was dressed so shabbily that he did not choose to ap- 
 pear. But he heard the conversation, and was highly delighted with 
 the encomiums on his book. 
 
 27. Distressed Mother. A play by Ambrose Philips. Johnson said 
 of Philips that in some of liis poemo "he cannot be denied the praise 
 of lines sometimes elegant, but he has seldom much force or much 
 comprehension. ' ' 
 
 30. Junius and Skinner's Dictionary. Francis Junius (1589- 
 1677) and Stephen Skinner (1623-1667) were among the first to 
 study the Teutonic languages. Their etymological dictionaries 
 greatly assisted Johnson. 
 
 32. Dr. Richard Bathurst. Johnson once referred to Bathurst 
 as "my dear, dear Bathurst, whom I loved better than ever I loved 
 any human creature." (Piozzi, Anecdotes, 18.) 
 
 32. John Hawkins, an attorney. Boswell appended this note 
 concerning Hawkins, whom he heartily disliked, as a rival to the 
 favor of Johnson and author of his authorized biography: "He 
 was afterwards for several years Chairman of the Middlesex Justices, 
 and upon occasion of presenting an address to the King, accepted 
 the usual offer of Knighthood. He is author of A History of Music, 
 in five quarto volumes. By assiduous attention upon Johnson in his 
 last illness, he obtained the office of one of his executors; in con- 
 sequence of which the booksellers of London employed him to pub- 
 lish an edition of Dr. Johnson's works, and to write his life." 
 
 34. The nine years of Horace. Horace, the Latin poet, advised 
 in his essay on poetry that an author polish and revise a work nine 
 years before publishing it. 
 
258 NOTES 
 
 34. Strangled upon the stage. The strangling of Irene in view of 
 the audience was suggested by Garrick. 
 
 35. Eobert Dodsley (1703-1764). His Collection of Old Plays 
 (1744) did much to revive interest in Shakespeare's contemporaries. 
 
 35. The Taller, Spectator, and Guardian. Three periodicals con- 
 ducted by Sir Richard Steele and Joseph Addison. In the second 
 appeared the famous character, Sir Roger de Coverley. These 
 essays are the forerunners of the modern English novel. 
 
 36. " A man may write %t any time." Johnson wrote concerning 
 the poet Gray: "Gray had a notion not very peculiar, that he could 
 not write but at certain times, or at happy moments; a fantastic 
 foppery, to which my kindness for a man of learning and virtue 
 wishes him to have been superior." Works, viii, 482. 
 
 36. Samuel Richardson (1689-1761). Richardson was a shy and 
 highly respectable printer who at the age of fifty began a new era 
 with the publication of his novel, Pamela. His two other stories, 
 Clarissa Harlowe and Sir Charles Grandison, are the first master- 
 pieces of the modern analytic novel. Johnson esteemed him highly. 
 
 36. Without even being read over.. Nevertheless, when Johnson 
 revised the Rambler essays for the collected edition, he made more 
 than 6000 alterations. 
 
 39. Joseph Addison (1672-1719). Part author of the Taller 
 and Spectator papers. Addison is regarded as one of the chief 
 founders of modern English prose, the modern newspaper, and the 
 modern English novel. "There is in most of his compositions," says 
 Johnson, "a calmness and equability, deliberate and cautious, some- 
 times with little that delights, but seldom with anything that offends." 
 And again he remarks that "as a describer of life and manners, he 
 must be allowed to stand perhaps the first of the first rank." Mac- 
 aulay's Essay on Addison, which should be consulted, is written in a 
 tone of the highest enthusiasm. See also Franklin's remarks on 
 Addison in his Autobiography. 
 
 39. 17th of March, 0. S. Previous to 1753, the year began not 
 with January 1st, but with March 25th. Moreover, the calendar 
 had gradually fallen behind true chronology eleven days. On Sept. 
 3, 1752, these eleven days were canceled, and the following day was 
 called Sept. 15th. The old calendar is referred to as 0[ld] S[tyle]. 
 
 39. "A lesson he had learned by rote." A quotation from Sir 
 John Hawkins's biography of Johnson. 
 
 40. Reynolds. Sir Joshua Reynolds said of Johnson: "For my 
 own part, I acknowledge the highest obligations to him. He may 
 be said to have formed my mind, and to have brushed from it a 
 great deal of rubbish." It was said of Reynolds, to show how little 
 he crouched to the great, of whom he painted so many, that he 
 never gave them their proper titles, avoiding the use of the terms, 
 "your lordship" and "your ladyship;" nor did he ever say "Sir" 
 in speaking to anyone but Dr. Johnson. (Cf. Hill, i, 285.) In 
 Boswell's Journal of the Hebrides tour, Johnson says: "Sir Joshua 
 
NOTES 259 
 
 Reynolds, Sir, is the most invulnerable man I know; the man with 
 whom if you should quarrel, you would find the most difficulty how 
 to abuse." 
 
 41. Rochefoucault. Francois, due de la Rochefoucault (1613- 
 1680), was a French writer, author of Maxims that constitute a 
 satirical comment on men's foibles. One of his most famous say- 
 ings is this: "Ingratitude is simply the spirit of independence. " 
 Another is: "Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue." 
 
 41. A grant of free warren. A franchise to keep in an enclosure 
 certain wild animals for hunting purposes. 
 
 41. Topham Beauclerk. Beau clerk was the great-grandson of 
 Charles II and Nell Gwynne. He was born in December, 1739. 
 
 42. That liquor called Bishop. A beverage containing port wine, 
 oranges or lemons, and sugar. 
 
 42. "Short, short." An imperfect quotation from Lansdowne'a 
 Drinking Song to Sleep. 
 
 43. Lord Chesterfield. Chesterfield (1694-1773) had many claims 
 to eminence, although he is now chiefly remembered in connection 
 with Johnson. He was a brilliant orator — ■ his parliamentary career 
 covering forty years — and a noted wit. He proved an excellent 
 Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1745-46 and Secretary of State from 
 1746-48. His Letters to His Son (1774) are of an extreme elegance 
 and distinction. They were composed as a guide to the lad in prin- 
 ciples, in deportment, and in sentiment. These Letters had a great 
 success and are still a kind of classic. The politeness of Chester- 
 field was proverbial — his last recorded words while dying were, 
 "Give Dayrolies a chair." But apparently he was not polite to 
 Johnson. Perhaps a servant was at fault. At any rate, Chester- 
 field became the occasion for ending an old era in literature — the 
 era of patronage — and opening a new era — the era of the public. 
 
 43. Colley Cibber (1671-1757). An English dramatist and poet 
 laureate (1730-1757). His account of his own life is considered his 
 best work, but some of his comedies possess considerable merit. He 
 was the chief figure in the second version of The Dunciad of Pope, 
 with whom he carried on an animated controversy for some years. 
 
 44. " All was false and hollow." Paradise Lost, ii, 112. 
 
 44. To give it me. Dr. Johnson appeared to have had a remark- 
 able delicacy with respect to the circulation of this letter; for Dr. 
 Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, informs me that, having many years 
 ago pressed him to be allowed to read it to the second Lord Hard- 
 wicke, who was very desirous to hear it (promising at the same time 
 that no copy of it should be taken), Johnson seemed much pleased 
 that it had attracted the attention of a nobleman of such a respect- 
 able character; but after pausing some time, declined to comply 
 with the request, saying, with a smile, "No, Sir. I have hurt the 
 dog too much already;" or words to that purpose. — Boswell. 
 
 45. Virgil (70-19 b.c). A Roman epic poet, author of The 
 Mneid, a continuation of Homer's Iliad. Virgil's style is accounted 
 
260 NOTES 
 
 the most felicitous in Latin literature. Dryden said of him that he 
 "is everywhere elegant, sweet, and flowing in his hexameters. 
 George Edward Woodberry sums up his achievement in these words: 
 "He, more than any other poet, has been a part of the intellectual 
 life of Europe alike by length of sway and by the multitude of minds 
 he has touched in all generations; and, among the Latin races, he is 
 still the climax of their genius, for charm and dignity, for art and 
 the profound substance of his matter, and for its serious inclusive- 
 ness of human life." Tennyson, in his magnificent poem, To Virgil, 
 calls him "lord of language," and speaks of "All the charm of all 
 the Muses often flowering in a lonely word" in Virgil's poems. 
 
 48. A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. 
 In addition to defining certain words incorrectly, Johnson indulged 
 his prejudices or his sense of humor in the case of other words. For 
 example, he defined excise "a tax levied on commodities, and ad- 
 judged not by the common judges of property, but by wretches 
 hired by those to whom excise is paid." Oats he defined: "A grain, 
 which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland sup- 
 ports the people." A lexicographer he defined: "A writer of dic- 
 tionaries, a harmless drudge." Network he defined: "Anything 
 reticulated or decussated, at equal distances, with interstices be- 
 tween the intersections." 
 
 49. Grub-street. Johnson told Fanny Burney that he had never 
 visited this London street. 
 
 52. Thomas Wart on. Warton (1728-1790) was a clergyman, 
 poet laureate from 1785 to the time of his death, and author of a 
 History of English Poetry. He was a lover of old poetry, and to- 
 gether with Dr. Thomas Percy did much to revive it in favor. He 
 and his brother, Joseph Warton, formed part of the Johnson circle. 
 
 53. Contemplation of mortality. A quotation from Sir John 
 Hawkins's biography of Johnson. 
 
 58. John Wilkes (1727-1797). An English politician and agi- 
 tator, one of the earliest representatives of the "popular rights" 
 party. He engaged in many violent altercations with the Tory 
 faction, particularly in the columns of his periodical, The North 
 Briton. He was imprisoned for writing an article attacking George 
 III, but the law of the liberty of the press having been invoked, he 
 was freed, much to the general delight. 
 
 58. Tobias Smollett (1721-1771), author of Roderick Random, Pere- 
 grine Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, etc., novels of comic adventure, full of 
 violence, coarse humor, and horse-play. He had considerable influence 
 on later writers like Scott, Charles Reade, Charles Lever, and Dickens. 
 
 58. That great Cham of literature. Cham is a variation of Khan 
 — a Tartar ruler. Cham is now no longer used except in connection 
 with Johnson. 
 
 60. The Earl of Bute (1713-1792). John Stuart, the Earl of 
 Bute, was prime minister of England from May, 1762, to April, 1763. 
 He was extremely unpopular. 
 
 
NOTES 261 
 
 60. Pension and pensioners. Johnson in his Dictionary had defined 
 pension as " an allowance made to anyone without an equivalent. 
 In England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a state 
 hireling for treason to his country." Pensioner is referred to as "a 
 dependent." 
 
 64. Thomas Sheridan. Father of the famous dramatist and 
 orator, Richard Brinsley Sheridan. He was a teacher of elocution 
 in London. 
 
 68. The Elements of Criticism. By Lord Karnes (1696-1782). 
 
 69. James Macpherson (1736-1796) claimed to have discovered a 
 cycle of poems written by Ossian, a legendary Gaelic bard of the 
 third century, and his supposed translation of these poems into 
 rhythmical English prose (1760-1763) created a sensation, not only 
 in Great Britain, but all over Europe. Johnson's view that Mac- 
 pherson had forged his version has been sustained by investigation, 
 although it is likely that Macpherson incorporated a few fragments 
 of genuine Gaelic verse in his "translation." Wordsworth, pointed 
 out that the fact that "Ossian" produced no imitators in itself is a 
 "decisive proof that the book is essentially unnatural; nor should 
 1 require any other to demonstrate it to be a forgery, audacious as 
 worthless." Macpherson took advantage of appointments in 
 Florida and India to amass a considerable fortune, and for sixteen 
 years he was M. P for Camelford, in Cornwall. By a curious 
 irony of fate, he is buried within a few feet of Johnson, in West- 
 minster Abbey. 
 
 69. Reverend Dr. Blair. Hugh Blair (1718-1800) was an ex- 
 tremely popular pulpit orator. In book form his sermons found 
 "tens of thousands of admirers," says Gosse, who characterizes him 
 as "once among the most prominent," but "now perhaps the most 
 obsolete of English writers." 
 
 70. Christopher Smart (1722-1770). A writer of this time, un- 
 doubtedly mad, but author of one magnificent poem, the Song to 
 David. About 1762 Johnson visited him in Bedlam and prayed 
 with him. He had been a fellow of Pembroke College. 
 
 71- Grotius. Hugh Grotius (1583-1645) was a famous Dutch 
 writer on religion and international law. 
 
 71. Dr. Pearson. John Pearson (1613-1686) was an English 
 clergyman, author of Exposition of the Creed. For Clarke, see 
 earlier note, page 255. 
 
 73. Birthday Odes. As poet laureate, it was Colley Cibber's 
 duty to write verses in honor of the birthday anniversaries of mem- 
 bers of the royal family, as well as for their marriages and deaths. 
 This function of the office has always resulted in ridicule of the 
 poet laureates. Not even Wordsworth or Tennyson could write 
 much better poetry of this kind than poetasters like Whitehead or 
 Pye. 
 
 73. Whitehead. William Whitehead (1715-1785) was Cibber's 
 successor as poet laureate. 
 
262 NOTES 
 
 73. Gray. Thomas Gray is, of course, best known as the author 
 
 of An Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Johnson constantly cherished 
 an antipathy to Gray, and seemed totally unable to appreciate 
 his fine sympathy with nature or his understanding of human 
 suffering. He said of Gray, "He has a kind of strutting dignity, 
 and is tall by walking on tiptoe." To only four stanzas of the 
 Elegy, out of all Gray's poetry, did Johnson give unqualified ap- 
 proval. Yet of the Elegy Gosse has said that it "is the most char- 
 acteristic single poem of the eighteenth century," and it is probably 
 read with pleasure by more people who do not otherwise read poetry 
 than any other poem in the language. Gray is described as "a 
 little plump person, very shy, with a fund of latent humor; the 
 tottering and gingerly way in which he walked was the subject of 
 ridicule, and he was altogether too delicate for the rough age he 
 lived in." Cowper thought Gray "the only poet since Shakespeare 
 entitled to the character of sublime." 
 
 74. David Mallet (1700-1765). A Scotch poet who wrote Alfred, 
 A Masque, in collaboration with James Thomson. Rule, Britannia, 
 sung for the first time in this play, may have been written by 
 Mallet, 
 
 75. "I can do it better myself." He went home with Mr. Burke 
 to supper; and broke his shin by attempting to exhibit to the com- 
 pany how much better he could jump over a stick than the puppets. 
 — Boswell. 
 
 80. Swift. Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) was the bitterest satirist 
 in English — perhaps in all literature. His Gulliver's Travels is read 
 chiefly by children, who naturally miss its pitiless satire. Carlyle 
 thought Swift the greatest man of his age, and Thackeray said that 
 "thinking of him is like thinking of an empire falling." Swift's life 
 was extremely unhappy, because his pride made him feel constantly 
 that he never had the honor and the place that were his due. To 
 most of his contemporaries he seemed violent and hard, but his 
 private papers reveal him as at bottom tender and kind-hearted. 
 Like Johnson, he lived in constant fear of insanity, but unlike him 
 he died in that condition. 
 
 80. James Thomson (1700-1748). A Scotch poet, whose poem, 
 The Seasons, "showed to Londoners the way to the fields." He 
 also probably wrote the English national hymn, Rule, Britannia. 
 Johnson said of him: "As a writer, he is entitled to one praise of the 
 highest kind: his mode of thinking and of expressing his thoughts 
 is original. . . . He thinks in a peculiar train, and he thinks always 
 as a man of genius; he looks round on Nature and on life with the 
 eye which Nature bestows only on a poet; the eye that distinguishes 
 in everything presented to its view whatever there is on which 
 imagination can delight to be detained, and with a mind that at 
 once comprehends the vast and attends to the minute." Thomson 
 did much to bring on the Romantic Movement in English 
 poetry. 
 
NOTES 263 
 
 80. "Has not — a great deal of wit?" Apparently the allusion 
 is to Burke, says Hill. 
 
 83. A very fashionable Baronet. My friend Sir Michael Le 
 Fleming. This gentleman, with all his experience of sprightly and 
 elegant life, inherits, with the beautiful family domain, no incon- 
 siderable share of that love of literature, which distinguished his 
 venerable grandfather, the Bishop of Carlisle. He one day observed 
 to me, of Dr. Johnson, in a felicity of phrase, "There is a blunt 
 dignity about him on every occasion." — Boswell. 
 
 85. Gulosity. Greediness. 
 
 87. Big words for little matters. Yet, as Croker pointed out, 
 Johnson makes a young lady talk of "the cosmetic discipline, " 
 while a young gentleman tells us of "the flaccid sides of a foot-ball 
 having swelled out into stiffness and extension." 
 
 88. Dr. Nugent. A physician, the father-in-law of Burke. 
 
 88. Mr. Chamier. A stockbroker early in life; later, simply a 
 gentleman of leisure. 
 
 92. Doctor of Laws. In his Journey to the Hebrides, Johnson re- 
 marks: "It is reasonable to suppose . . . that he who is by age 
 qualified to be a doctor has in so much time gained learning sufficient 
 not to disgrace the title, or wit sufficient not to desire it." (Hill, i, 
 565.) 
 
 92. Mr. Thrale. In Murphy's Johnson (Hill, i, 571) it is said of 
 Thrale: "A more ingenious mind no man possessed. His education 
 at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; his amiable temper 
 recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his heart made 
 him a sincere friend." Madame D'Arblay mentions a trait of 
 Thrale's that perhaps explains his fondness for Johnson's society. 
 "Though entirely a man of peace," she says, "and a gentleman in 
 his character, he had a singular amusement in hearing, instigating, 
 and provoking a war of words, alternating triumph and overthrow, 
 between clever and ambitious colloquial combatants, where there 
 was nothing that could inflict disgrace upon defeat." — Memoirs of 
 Dr. Burney, ii, 104. (Hill, i, 572.) 
 
 93. Mrs. Thrale. Mrs. Thrale preserved very full, though not 
 particularly accurate, records of the intercourse of her estimable 
 husband with Johnson; since her death these have been published 
 in part. 
 
 96. Voltaire (1694-1778). A French writer whose influence in his 
 time was world-wide. He wrote novels, dramas, short stories, 
 histories, epics, essays, and a "philosophical dictionary." He is an 
 excellent representative of the French spirit of skeptical inquiry; 
 he did much to make possible the widening freedom of thought in 
 science and philosophy of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. 
 
 96. Dryden. "Glorious John" Dryden (1631-1700) wrote plays, 
 verses, and prose, besides making a number of translations. He 
 helped create the modern paragraph and to establish sound literary 
 criticism. His satires are unequaled in English. He is sometimes 
 
264 NOTES 
 
 called "the greatest man of a little age." Johnson said of him: 
 "His compositions are the effects of a vigorous genius operating upon 
 large materials;" and, again, that he found English poetry brick 
 and left it marble. 
 
 96. Burke. Burke entered Parliament, as member for Wendover 
 Borough, in 1766. 
 
 98. His Majesty. George III is, of course, the monarch referred 
 to. 
 
 100. Controversy between Warburton and Lowth. William 
 Warburton (1698-1779), whom Johnson admired highly, was a very 
 pugnacious theologian and critic. Robert Lowth (1710-1787) was 
 an English divine and scholar. 
 
 101. Dr. HilL Aaron Hill (1685-1750) was a minor English poet 
 and dramatist, mentioned in Pope's Dunciad. According to 
 D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature (Hill, ii, 44), Hill once owned to 
 a friend that he had overfatigued himself with writing seven works 
 at once, one of which was on architecture and another on cookery. 
 At one time Hill contracted to translate a Dutch work on insects for 
 fifty guineas. As he was ignorant of the language, he bargained with 
 another translator to do the work for twenty-five guineas. This 
 man, who was equally ignorant, rebargained with a third, who per- 
 fectly understood his original, to make the version for twelve guineas. 
 
 102. Dr. Joseph Warton (1722-1800). Brother of the more 
 famous Thomas Warton. He edited Pope, but in a critical spirit. 
 Like his brother, he preferred a freer and wilder poetry than Pope 
 represented. 
 
 103. The bear. It was said, in reference to the pensions granted 
 to Dr. Johnson and a certain Dr. Shebbeare, that the king had pen- 
 sioned a he-bear and a she-bear. 
 
 105. One of the company. Boswell himself, according to North- 
 cote's Biography of Reynolds. 
 
 106. Zimri. A character in Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel. 
 He is a brilliant satire on the Duke of Buckingham. Dryden de- 
 scribes him thus: 
 
 "A man so various that he seemed to be 
 
 Not one, but all mankind's epitome; 
 
 Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, 
 
 Was everything by starts and nothing long; 
 
 But in the course of one revolving moon 
 
 Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon." 
 
 106. The Mourning Bride. A drama by William Congreve 
 (1670-1729), the most brilliant of English writers of comedy previous 
 to Sheridan. In this play occurs the famous line, "Music hath 
 charms to soothe the savage breast." 
 
 106. Foote's. Samuel Foote (1720-1777) wrote farces and 
 comedies and himself appeared in them. He was the favorite comic 
 actor of the day. 
 
NOTES 265 
 
 106. Joseph Baretti. An Italian of fine culture, who came to 
 London about 1753 and died there about 1789. He was employed 
 as language master and as author, and was intimate with Dr. John- 
 son. In a street brawl in which he became engaged, he killed a man. 
 Dr. Johnson and many others testified in court to his good char- 
 acter, and he was acquitted. 
 
 107. Dominicetti. A quack, who in 1765 established medicated 
 baths in Cheney Walk, Chelsea. (Croker.) 
 
 107. David Hume (1711-1776). A Scotch historian and philoso- 
 pher, who was opposed to the orthodox religious views of his age. 
 His History of Great Britain was read with as much avidity as a 
 novel, says Gosse, owing to the simplicity and elegance of his style, 
 "which proceeds limpid, manly, and serene, without a trace of 
 effort." But Hume's predilections for Tory ideas led him to do 
 willful injustice to the opponents of arbitrary power, and his pages, 
 in addition, "swarm with inaccuracies." Aside from his historical 
 works, Hume is famous for his Philosophical Essays Concerning 
 Human Understanding and An Enquiry Concerning Morals, which 
 gained him a European reputation. Hume was looked on with 
 horror by the orthodox as a dangerous infidel; but in truth he was, 
 it is believed, exactly what he merrily described himself as being — 
 "a sober, discreet, virtuous, regular, quiet, good-natured man of a 
 bad reputation." Boswell once said to him: " How much better are 
 you than your books!" 
 
 109. Ranelagh. A public hall and garden, in Chelsea, London, 
 famous as a gay resort of fashion, from 1742 to the eighteenth 
 century. In Smollett's Humphrey Clinker, it is described as follows: 
 
 " What are the amusements of Ranelagh? One half of the company 
 are following one another in an eternal circle; like so many blind 
 asses in an olive-mill, where they can neither discourse, distinguish, 
 nor be distinguished;- while the other half are drinking hot water, 
 under the denomination of tea, till nine or ten o'clock at night, to 
 keep them awake for the rest of the evening. As for the orchestra, 
 the vocal music especially, it is well for the performers that they 
 cannot be heard distinctly." 
 
 111. Fielding. Henry Fielding (1707-1754), although he wrote 
 innumerable plays and several novels, is chiefly remembered by his 
 Tom Jones. He was called by Byron "the prose Homer of human 
 nature." Johnson constantly preferred his rival Richardson to 
 Fielding, and disparaged the latter (except his novel Amelia) on 
 many occasions. Gosse says of Fielding: "He has his eye always 
 on conduct; he is keen to observe not what a man pretends or pro- 
 tests, but what he does, and this he records for us, sometimes with 
 scant respect for our susceptibilities. But it has been a magnifi- 
 cent advantage for English fiction to have near the head of it a 
 writer so vigorous, so virile, so devoid of every species of affectation 
 and hypocrisy. In all the best of our later novelists there has been 
 visible a strain of sincere manliness which comes down to them in 
 
266 NOTES 
 
 direct descent from Fielding, and which it would be a thousand 
 pities for English fiction to relinquish." Coleridge, in his Table 
 Talk, compared Fielding with Johnson's favorite, Richardson, as 
 follows: "How charming, how wholesome Fielding is! To take him 
 up after Richardson is like emerging from a sick-room, heated by 
 stoves, into an open lawn, on a breezy day in May." 
 
 113. General Oglethorpe. James Edward Oglethorpe (1696-1785) 
 was a British general of fine character, who planted the colony of 
 Georgia and named it after George II. This colony was at first a 
 place of settlement for criminals and refugees. 
 
 113. Belgrade. Belgrade was taken by Prince Eugene in 1717, 
 after he had defeated the Turks at Wisnetza. 
 
 114. " Perfect through suffering." Hebrews, ii. 10. 
 
 114. Books were treated by Johnson. Beauclerk wrote to Lord 
 Charlemont in 1773: "If you do not come over here, I will bring all 
 the Club over to Ireland to live with you, and that will drive you 
 here in your own defence. Johnson shall spoil your books, Gold- 
 smith pull your flowers, and Boswell talk to you: stay then if you 
 can." (Hill, ii, 192.) 
 
 116. Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy in rehearsal. She Stoops 
 to Conquer. 
 
 117. Action. Gesticulation. 
 
 117. Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a French writer 
 and philosopher who pointed out the inequalities men suffered in 
 modern civilization, and advocated "a return to nature." Rous- 
 seau's views undoubtedly helped bring on the French Revolution. 
 Boswell visited him while touring the Continent, and imbibed some 
 of his views. Hazlitt called Rousseau "the father of sentiment." 
 
 120. Lucius Florus or Eutropius. Floras wrote an abridgment 
 of Roman history. He lived in the second century of our era. 
 Flavius Eutropius was a popular Latin historian of the fourth century. 
 
 121. That I was chosen. On the Hebrides tour, Johnson told 
 Boswell several of the members wished to keep him out. "Burke 
 told me," he said, "he doubted if you were fit for it; but now you 
 are in, none of them are sorry. Burke says, that you have so much 
 good humor naturally, it is scarce a virtue." Boswell. "They 
 were afraid of you, Sir, as it was you who proposed me." Johnson. 
 "Sir, they knew that if they refused you, they'd probably never 
 have got in another. I'd have kept them all out. Beauclerk was 
 very earnest for you." Boswell. "Beauclerk has a keenness of 
 mind which is very uncommon." 
 
 124. James Beattie (1735-1803). A Scotch poet and philosopher, 
 author of a romantic poem, The Minstrel. 
 
 125. He was respectfully entertained. Johnson wrote to Mrs. 
 Thrale, Nov. 3, 1773: "He has better faculties than I imagined, 
 more justness of discernment and more fecundity of images. It is 
 very convenient to travel with him; for there is no house where he 
 is not received with kindness and respect.'' 
 
NOTES 267 
 
 126. Sir A.'s letter. Sir Alexander Gordon, one of the professors 
 at Aberdeen. 
 
 126. Quicken Dr. Webster. The Rev. Dr. Alexander Webster, 
 an Edinburgh minister, had promised Johnson information concern- 
 ing the highlands and islands of Scotland. 
 
 127. Macpherson is very furious. See earlier note on Mac- 
 pherson, page 261. Johnson in his book had spoken with great 
 severity regarding Macpherson and his claims that Ossian was 
 authentic. 
 
 127. Lord Hailes, Sir David Dalrymple, Lord Hailes (1726- 
 1792), was a Scotch lawyer and antiquary. 
 
 127. Strong liquor. "It should be recollected," notes Boswell, 
 "that this fanciful description of his friend was given by Johnson 
 soon after he himself had become a water-drinker." 
 
 129. Since your Homer. Macpherson had recently published an 
 unimpressive translation of Homer. 
 
 131. A race of convicts. It had long been the custom to deport 
 convicts for settlement in America. Later, the same practice was 
 followed with regard to Australia. 
 
 133. His mode of speaking was very impressive. My noble friend 
 Lord Pembroke said once to me at Wilton, with a happy pleasantry 
 and some truth, that "Dr. Johnson's sayings would not appear so 
 extraordinary, were it not for his bow-wow-way." The sayings them- 
 selves are generally of sterling merit; but, doubtless, his manner was 
 an addition to their effect; and therefore should be attended to as 
 much as may be. It is necessary, however, to guard those who are 
 not acquainted with him, against overcharged imitations or cari- 
 catures of his manner, which are frequently attempted, and many 
 of which are second-hand copies from the late Mr. Henderson the 
 actor, who, though a good mimic of some persons, did not represent 
 Johnson correctly. — Boswell. 
 
 136. Nicolaida. A learned Greek. 
 
 137. The decision relating to Sir Allan. A lawsuit in which 
 Johnson had interested himself. 
 
 139. Madame de Boufflers. A fashionable Frenchwoman, whose 
 salon in Paris attracted many men of note, especially English writers, 
 of whom she was very fond. She visited England in 1763. 
 
 140. Hermippus redivivus. Hermippus was the name of an 
 Athenian satiric poet of the fifth century b.c. ; also of a Greek philoso- 
 pher of the third century b.c. Hermippus redivivus is the title of a 
 book by Dr. John Campbell, said by Johnson to be "a curious history 
 of the extravagances of the human mind." 
 
 143, The Beaux' Stratagem. A celebrated play by George Far- 
 quhar. The title of Boniface, landlord of-the inn in this drama, whose 
 pet expression, "as the saying is," is lugged into almost every sen- 
 tence, has since become a stock name for an inn-keeper. 
 
 143. "Oats, the food of horses." See Johnson's definition, 
 page 260. Johnson acknowledged to Boswell, while on the Hebrides 
 
268 NOTES 
 
 tour, that as a boy he had been very fond of eating raw oats. Lord 
 Elibank made a happy retort on Dr. Johnson's definition of oats as 
 food for men in Scotland, for horses in England: "Yes," said he, 
 "and where else will you see such horses and such menV 
 
 144. Jack Ellis. This Mr. Ellis was, I believe, the last of that 
 profession called Scriveners, which is one of the London companies, 
 but of which the business is no longer carried on separately, but is 
 transacted by attorneys and others. He was a man of literature and 
 talents. He was the author of a Hudibrastic version of Maphseus's 
 Canto, in addition to the Mneid; of some poems in Dodsley's col- 
 lection; and various other small pieces; but, being a very modest 
 man, never put his name to anything. He showed me a translation 
 which he had made of Ovid's Epistles, very prettily done. There 
 is a good engraved portrait of him by Pether, from a picture by Fry, 
 which hangs in the hail of the Scriveners' Company. I visited him 
 October 4, 1790, in his ninety-third year, and found his judgment 
 distinct and clear, and his memory, though faded so as to fail him 
 occasionally, yet, as he assured me, and I indeed perceived, able to 
 serve him very well, after a little recollection. It was agreeable 
 to observe, that he was free from the discontent and fretfulness 
 which too often molest old age. He in the summer of that year 
 walked to Rotherhithe, where he dined, and walked home in the 
 evening. He died on the 31st of December, 1791. — Boswell. 
 
 144. The most widely different. Hill quotes Madame D'Arblay's 
 remark: "Dr. Johnson almost always prefers the company of an 
 intelligent man of the world to that of a scholar." 
 
 145. The Lusiad. The great epic of discovery and exploration 
 by the Portuguese poet Luis de Camoens (1524-1580), of which 
 Vasca da Gama is the hero. It describes his journey to India in 
 1497 and his rounding of the Cape of Good Hope. The poem is 
 sometimes called The Epic of Commerce. 
 
 146. Copy. The printer's term for manuscript. 
 
 147. John Wilkes, Esq. See earlier note, page 260. Johnson, 
 according to Hill, called Wilkes "a retailer of sedition and obscenity" 
 in his The False Alarm, and in The North Briton Wilkes, quoting 
 Johnson's definition of a pensioner, called him "a slave of state, 
 hired by a stipend to obey his master." 
 
 147. Sir John Pringle. An English army and court surgeon 
 (1707-1782), very friendly with Boswell and his father and very 
 obnoxious to Johnson. 
 
 148. Jack Ketch. A proverbial expression for the hangman. 
 150. Indifferent in his choice. Cf. "Indifferent in his choice to 
 
 sleep or die." — Addison's Cato, v, 1. (Hill, iii, 68.) 
 
 150. Gretna-Green. A village in Scotland near the English 
 border, formerly the scene of many runaway marriages. 
 
 151. Foote. Foote told me, that Johnson said of him, "For loud, 
 obstreperous, broad-faced mirth, I know not his equal." — Boswell. 
 See note on page 264. 
 
NOTES 269 
 
 152. He will play Scrub all his life. A character in Farquhar's 
 Beaux' Stratagem. He says in Act iii: "Of a Monday I drive the 
 coach, of a Tuesday I drive the plough, on Wednesday I follow the 
 hounds, a Thursday I dun the tenants, on Friday I go to market, 
 on Saturday I draw warrants, and a Sunday I draw beer." (Hill, 
 iii, 80.) 
 
 153. Pindar (522-433 b.c). One of the great lyric poets of 
 Greece; chiefly noted for his odes celebrating victors in athletic 
 contests. He was called by the ancient Latin critic Quintilian "by 
 far the chief of all the lyrists." He is very hard to read in the 
 original Greek, and appears very unfavorably in translation. Mur- 
 ray (A History of Ancient Greek Literature) says: "He was a poet 
 and nothing else. He thought in music; he loved to live among 
 great and beautiful images — Heracles, Achilles, Perseus, Iason, 
 the daughters of Cadmus. When any part of his beloved saga re- 
 pelled his moral sensitiveness, he glided away from it, careful not 
 to express skepticism, careful also not to speak evil of a god. He 
 loved poetry and music, especially his own. As a matter of fact, 
 there was no poetry in the world like his, and when other people 
 sang they jarred on him, he confesses, 'like crows.'" 
 
 153. Elkanah Settle (1648-1724). Settle, a fluent dramatist, was 
 a rival of Dryden, who ridicules him as Doeg in Absalom and Achi- 
 tophel. Gosse says of him: "He is the most amusing specimen of 
 the poetaster, pure and simple, that English literature supplies us 
 with." At the end of his life Settle wagged a serpent-tail in a Smith- 
 field puppet-show, as a monster in a green leather suit of his own 
 invention. He died in abject poverty. 
 
 155. Mr. Home's Douglas. John Home, a Scotch clergyman 
 (1722-1808), made a sensation in London with his play Douglas. 
 Johnson once defied Thomas Sheridan to show ten good lines in 
 Douglas. Nevertheless, it held the stage for a number of years. 
 In this play occurs the famous passage — still used as a "recitation* - 
 — that begins : 
 
 "My name is Norval; on the Grampian hills 
 My father feeds his flocks." 
 
 158. Less attention to profit. Was Johnson, then, quite sincere 
 when he remarked that no one but a blockhead ever wrote except 
 for money? 
 
 160. Watts. Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748), an English divine 
 who wrote many famous hymns. Dr. Johnson wrote of him: "His 
 lines are commonly smooth and easy, and his thoughts always 
 religiously pure; but who is there that, to so much piety and in- 
 nocence, does not wish for a greater measure of sprightliness and 
 vigor!" It was said of Watts that he was "a man who never wrote 
 but for a good purpose.". 
 
270 NOTES 
 
 161. Taylor. "Taylor," said Johnson to Mrs. Thrale in 1773, 
 "is better acquainted with my heart than any man or woman now 
 alive." 
 
 161. A gentleman of eminence. Probably Dr. Thomas Warton. 
 
 162. Garrick. Hill (iii, 185) quotes from Hannah More's Memoirs 
 a query she once put to Garrick. She asked him ' ' why Johnson was 
 so often harsh and unkind in his speeches both of him and to him. 
 'Why,' he replied, 'it is very natural; is it not to be expected he 
 should be angry that I, who have so much less merit than he, should 
 have had so much greater success?"' 
 
 167. John Wesley (1703-1791). An English divine, one of the 
 founders of Methodism. Southey says of him, "His manners were 
 almost irresistibly winning, and his cheerfulness was like perpetual 
 sunshine." (Cf. Hill, iii, 261.) 
 
 167. Memoirs de Fontenelle. Bernard de Bovier de Fontenelle 
 (1657-1757) was the nephew of the great French dramatist Corneille, 
 and himself an author. 
 
 167. Allan Ramsay. An eminent painter, son of the Scotch 
 poet and bookseller who wrote The Gentle Shepherd. He died in 
 1784, in the seventy-third year of his life. 
 
 167. Young. Dr. Edward Young (1683-1765) was an English 
 clergyman, whose chief work, The Night Thoughts, is highly melan- 
 cholic. Gosse says that "it was in the sonorous blank verse of this 
 adroit poem that the vague aesthetic melancholy of the age found 
 its most striking exposition." That Young "was the victim of 
 affectation seems proved by the story that he wrote at night by the 
 glimmer of a candle stuck in a human skull." According to John- 
 son, in his Night Thoughts Young exhibited "a very wide display of 
 original poetry, variegated with deep reflections and striking allu- 
 sions, — a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility of fancy 
 scatters flowers of every hue and every odor." In this poem occur 
 the famous lines, "All men think all men mortal but themselves," 
 and "Procrastination is the thief of time." 
 
 168. Fox. Charles James Fox (1749-1806), an English states- 
 man and orator, who opposed George Ill's American policy. William 
 Hunt says of him: "No man ever has enjoyed greater popularity 
 than Fox. His disposition was amiable and generous, his good 
 nature inexhaustible, his heart full of warm and humane feelings." 
 Under Burke's influence he was gradually interested in the cause of 
 reform and progress. 
 
 168. Catched. This form for "caught" was still in good use in 
 Johnson's day. 
 
 169. The Stephani. The brothers Estienne (Latin, Stephanus) 
 were printers and scholars of the Renaissance. 
 
 170. Chaucer and Gower. Geoffrey Chaucer (1340?-1400) is 
 called "the father of English poetry." His friend John Gower 
 (1330-1408) helped to establish English as a literary tongue. The 
 former's Canterbury Pilgrimage is a vivid picture of the men and 
 
NOTES 271 
 
 manners, the thoughts and opinions of the fourteenth century, beside 
 being a collection of very entertainingly told stories. During the 
 age of Johnson, Chaucer was somewhat neglected. 
 
 170. Dr. Burney. Charles Burney (1726-1814) was an English 
 composer and writer. His best known work is The History of Music. 
 Dr. Johnson was very fond of him. For his daughter, Fanny Burney, 
 see page 274. 
 
 170. Miss Hannah More. An English author (1745-1833), who 
 wrote chiefly semi-religious stories. Thomas Babington Macaulay 
 frequently visited her as a boy and young man, and no doubt heard 
 at first hand from her many stories regarding Johnson's eccentricities 
 and regarding Boswell. Her best work is "the very diverting 
 though didactic novel, Coelebs in Search of a Wife," says Gosse. 
 
 170, Potter's Mschylus. ^Eschylus (525-456 B.C.), the great 
 Greek tragic poet, was translated in 1777 by Robert Potter (1721- 
 1804), a clergyman. 
 
 171. Numerous prose. Rhythmical prose. 
 
 171. Sir William Temple (1628-1699). An English diplomat and 
 essayist, of whom Swift said that there died with him "all that was 
 good and amiable among men." His prose style is almost modern 
 in tone, and has served as a model for many later writers. He is 
 the author of the famous sentence: " When all is done, human life is, 
 at the greatest and the best, but like a froward child, that must be 
 played with and humored a little to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, 
 and then the care is over." Macaulay wrote an interesting essay 
 on Temple. 
 
 171. Clarendon. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon (1608-1674) 
 was a royalist statesman and writer, author of a History of the Great 
 Rebellion. A. W. Ward says of him: "Clarendon's style, like every 
 style that attracts or interests, is the man. . . . He sometimes comes 
 near true wit, and occasionally has a picturesque turn; but he very 
 rarely rises into true eloquence." The History shows on every 
 page, critics note, that Clarendon was not primarily a student, but 
 rather a soldier, an administrator, and a politician. Clarendon's 
 character-sketches, many of them of men he knew personally, are 
 especially noteworthy. 
 
 171. Martial. A Latin epigrammatic poet of whom Johnson was 
 very fond. He is the model of the modern epigrammatist, and has 
 been endlessly imitated. 
 
 172. Rich. The manager of the Co vent Garden Theatre. 
 
 173. Lord Mansfield. A great English judge of this period, who 
 presided over many political trials with marked fairness. Johnson 
 admired him greatly. 
 
 174. Miss Seward, the poetess of Lichfield. Anna Seward (1747- 
 1809), called "The Swan of Lichfield," was a famous imitator of 
 the style of Johnson. 
 
 180. Lord Orrery. Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery (1621-1679), an 
 Irish nobleman of great political and literary talents, author of a 
 
272 NOTES 
 
 number of plays. He introduced rhymed tragedies on the English 
 stage. 
 
 180. George Psalmanazar (1679?-1763). A famous imposter, 
 who pretended to be an inhabitant of the island of Formosa (near 
 Japan), and published a fictitious description of the place. Later 
 he became a clergyman and confessed his deception. His later life 
 was regular and sincere. Johnson reverenced Psalmanazar highly, 
 and said he had never ventured to contradict the latter. 
 
 180. A gentleman. Probably Langton. 
 
 182. Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden. Sir Richard 
 Blackmore (1650?-1729), author of Creation, King Arthur, and other 
 massive works, beside many medical treatises, was the favorite butt 
 of the wits and critics of his day. Johnson wrote of Blackmore that 
 he formed magnificent designs in his poems, but was careless of par- 
 ticular and subordinate elegances. Cowper said of him that he had 
 committed " more absurdities in verse than any [other] writer of 
 our country." To Blackmore are attributed the exquisitely absurd 
 lines : u 
 
 A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on, 
 Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won. 
 
 For Watts, see page 269. Of The Choice of John Pomfret (1667- 
 1703) Johnson said that "perhaps no composition in our language 
 has been more often perused." It is now, however, quite extinct. 
 Mrs. Browning called Pomfret "the concentrate essence of namby- 
 pambyism." The Hymn to Darkness of Thomas Yalden (1671-1736) 
 is accounted his best performance. 
 
 185. Ludovico Ariosto (1474-1533). An Italian poet, who 
 wrote Orlando Furioso, an epic tale of the time of Charlemagne. 
 Shelley said of him that he was only sometimes a poet. Garnett 
 (A History of Italian Literature) characterizes him as "always fanci- 
 ful, always musical, always elevated, though not always to a great 
 altitude, above the level of the choicest prose." 
 
 185. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Edmund Spenser (1552-1599) was 
 the first of the great poets of the Elizabethan Age. He was called 
 by Milton "our sage and serious poet Spenser," and by Wordsworth 
 "Brother, Englishman, and Friend." His sonnets, odes, tales, and 
 above all, his great work The Faerie Queene (as it is usually spelled) 
 all teach "duty and high endeavor;" they are filled with lofty en- 
 thusiasm for virtue and idealism. The Faerie Queene, a poem of 
 wonderful beauty and sweet music, has greatly influenced later 
 poets. It is an allegory of many episodes. 
 
 185. Diogenes Laertius. A Greek historian, of about 200 a.d., 
 who wrote biographies of the Greek philosophers. 
 
 186. An Englishman. Reynolds said, however, that "the preju- 
 dices he had to countries did not extend to individuals." (Cf. Hill, 
 iv, 17.) 
 
NOTES 273 
 
 187. Dr. Berkeley's ingenious philosophy. George Berkeley 
 (1685-1753) believed that what we call matter or substance is only 
 an idea of the mind. His philosophy is a variety of idealism. Pope 
 declared of Berkeley that "he was possessed of every virtue under 
 heaven." 
 
 188. Cowley. The verse of Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) is 
 marred by its complexity and has long been neglected. His prose 
 essays are pleasantly and simply written. Johnson characterized 
 him as follows: "In the general review of Cowley's poetry it will be 
 found that he wrote with abundant fertility, but negligent or un- 
 skillful selection; with much thought, but with little imagery; that 
 he is never pathetic, and never sublime, but always either ingenious 
 or learned, either acute or profound." Of his essays, however, he 
 wrote: "His style has a smooth and placid equability." Charles II 
 exclaimed at his death, " Mr. Cowley has not left behind him a better 
 man in England!" He lies beside Chaucer and Spenser in West- 
 minster Abbey. 
 
 189. Edmund Waller (1606-1687). An English poet, who made 
 English verse smooth and rather mechanical after the era of the 
 Elizabethans, and is regarded as the chief predecessor of Dryden 
 and Pope. His chief poems are those inscribed to Sacharissa, 
 especially On a Girdle. The general character of his poetry," said 
 Johnson, "is elegance and gaiety." Waller played a considerable 
 role in the political life of his time. His poems are for the most part 
 forgotten. 
 
 191. Lyttelton. George, Lord Lyttelton (1709-1773), an English 
 statesman and poet, wrote Dialogues of the Dead. Johnson ex- 
 pressed very little admiration for Lyttelton' s work in his Life of 
 him. He said of his poems: "They leave nothing to be despised, 
 and little to be admired. . . . His blank verse in Blenheim has 
 neither much force nor much elegance. His little performances, 
 whether songs or epigrams, are sometimes sprightly and sometimes, 
 insipid." 
 
 191. Mrs. Montagu. Elizabeth Montagu (1720-1800) was a 
 woman of considerable intellectual ability; she was the first to be 
 called a "blue-stocking." She had a wide circle of famous friends. 
 She wrote an essay on The Genius of Shakespeare, in answer to the 
 unfavorable criticisms of Voltaire. 
 
 197. Captain Langton. Being at this time on duty at Rochester, 
 he is addressed by a military title. 
 
 198. Little Jenny. Jenny Langton, Johnson's god-daughter. 
 200. The library. According to Dr. Burney (quoted Hill, iv, 
 
 181), "The family lived in the library, which used to be the parlor. 
 There they breakfasted. Over the bookcases were hung Sir Joshua's 
 portraits of Mr. Thrale's friends — Baretti, Burke, Burney, Cham- 
 bers, Garrick, Goldsmith, Johnson, Murphy, Reynolds, Lord Sandys, 
 Lord Westcote, and in the same picture Mrs. Thrale and her eldest 
 daughter." Thrale's portrait, Dr. Hill adds, was also there. 
 
274 NOTES 
 
 201. Sold Charles the First. By an arrangement with the Eng- 
 lish, Charles I was delivered into the hands of the soldiers of the 
 Commonwealth after he had fled to Scotland. Later he was tried 
 and executed. 
 
 204. Cant. One of the five meanings Johnson gives to cant is: 
 "A whining pretension to goodness in formal and affected terms." 
 (Cf. Hill, iv, 255.) 
 
 206. Edmund Allen. His landlord and next-door neighbor in 
 Bolt-court. 
 
 206. Sarcocele. A form of cancer. 
 
 207. Console and amuse his mind. Hill quotes from the Piozzi 
 Letters: "Dec. 31. I have much need of entertainment; spiritless, 
 infirm, sleepless, and solitary, looking back with sorrow and forward 
 with terror." 
 
 212. Handel. The fame of the great German musician was 
 honored at the twenty-fifth anniversary of his death by an elaborate 
 public performance. 
 
 213. Squire Richard in The Journey to London, Colley Cibber's re- 
 vision of a play by Vanbrugh, a Restoration playwright. 
 
 216. The comedy of The Rehearsal, by the Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 217. The Lord Chancellor. Edward Thurlow, a famous lawyer. 
 221. Signer Piozzi. Described by the poet, Samuel Rogers, as 
 
 "a very handsome, gentlemanly, and amiable person." (Cf. Hill, 
 iv, 391.) 
 
 223. Mgri Ephemeris. Diary of a sick man. 
 
 225. Miss Burney. Frances Burney, later Madame D'Arblay 
 (1752-1840), was the daughter of Johnson's friend Dr. Burney. 
 Her records of Johnson's conversation are of the greatest value. 
 She wrote several novels, one of which, Evelina (1778), is the best 
 novel in English written by a woman previous to Jane Austen's 
 and George Eliot's works of fiction. See Macaulay's interesting 
 essay on her Diary. 
 
 225. Die like men. Psalms, lxxxii. 7. 
 
 226. William Windham (1750-1810). A Whig statesman and 
 orator. Macaulay named him "the finest gentleman of the age." 
 
 Note. — References in these annotations to critical opinions of Johnson on 
 various writers are usually from his Lives of the Poets. References to Gosse 
 are from Garnett & Gosse's English Literature, volume iii; to Hill, from his 
 edition of Boswell's Life of Johnson. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Adams, Dr. William, 10, 13, 30, 46, 
 
 214 
 Addison, Joseph, 38, 135 f., 247, 258, 
 
 268 
 .Eschylus, 170, 271 
 America and Americans, 115 f., 127, 
 
 128, 131 f., 180, 212 f., 267, 270 
 Anacreon, 9, 255 
 Anne, Queen, 9, 255 
 Anthology, Greek, 12, 255 
 Ariosto, 185, 272 
 Ashbourne, 48, 141, 161 f. 
 
 Barber, Francis, 39, 58 f., 95, 118, 
 150, 166, 212, 213, 214, 226, 227 
 
 Baretti, Joseph, 44, 105, 265, 273 
 
 Beattie, James, 124, 266 
 
 Beauclerk, Topham, xix, 16, 41 f., 
 88, 119, 127, 129, 133, 136, 139, 
 185, 187, 248, 259, 266 
 
 Bentley, Richard, 13, 255 
 
 Berkeley, George, 187, 273 
 
 Birmingham, 15 f., 141, 143, 157, 256 
 
 Blackmore, Sir Richard, 182, 272 
 
 Blair, Hugh, 69, 157, 261 
 
 Boswell, Alexander, Lord Auchin- 
 leck, vii f., 156, 157, 183 
 
 Boswell, James, life of, viif.; per- 
 sonal appearance of, x, xii; makes 
 the acquaintance of Johnson, viii, 
 63 f . ; his tour to the Hebrides with 
 Johnson, ix f., 3, 8, 79, 123 f.; at 
 Ashbourne with Johnson, 48, 141, 
 161 f.; letters from Johnson, 123-4, 
 124, 125, 126, 127, 136-7, 137-8, 
 157-8, 183-4, 208; Johnson's 
 treatment of Boswell, 67, 72, 83, 
 105-6, 107, 108-9, 114, 118, 121, 
 155, 160 f., 165, 175, 180 f., 183. 
 201, 205, 219, 266; attachment for 
 Johnson, 164, 181, 205, 209; 
 makes acquaintance of Thrales, 
 104; admitted to the Literary 
 Club, 119 f., 266; methods of 
 composing Life of Johnson, ix, x f., 
 xii f., 3 f., 83, 92, 111, 118, 236, 247; 
 dedication to Reynolds, 3 f., critical 
 opinions on Boswell and the Life 
 of Johnson, xi, xii f.; editions of, 
 
 xxiv; Boswelliana, xxv; questions 
 and exercises on the Life of John- 
 son, xxviii f. See also under 
 Johnson 
 
 Boswell, Mrs., 124, 126, 127, 136, 137, 
 138, 156, 157, 160 f., 183, 199, 205 
 
 Boswell, Robert, xii 
 
 Boufflers, Comtesse de, 109, 139, 267 
 
 Burke, Edmund, xi, xvii, xix, xxii, 80, 
 88, 96, 121, 141 f., 154, 177, 186, 
 193, 212, 226 f., 228, 248, 262, 263, 
 264, 266, 270, 273 
 
 Burke, Richard, xxi, xxiii, 89 
 
 Burke, William, xxi, xxiii 
 
 Burney, Dr. Charles, 70, 170, 195, 
 222, 256, 271, 273 
 
 Burney, Frances (later Madame 
 D'Arblay), 225, 250, 252, 253, 255, 
 260, 263, 268, 271, 274 
 
 Burton, Robert, 11, 109 f., 255 
 
 Bute, Lord, 60 f., 260 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, vii, xiv 
 
 Carte, Thomas, 9, 255 
 
 "Cham, great, of literature," 58, 260 
 
 Chamier, Andrew, 88, 263, 270 f. 
 
 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 170, 270 f., 273 
 
 Chemistry, Johnson's fondness for, 
 
 78, 183 
 Chesterfield, Lord, 29 f., 43 f., 117, 
 
 151, 156, 241, 259 
 Cibber, Colley, 43, 73, 145, 153, 
 
 162 f., 211, 213, 259, 261, 274 
 Clarendon, Lord, 171, 271 
 Clarke, Dr. Samuel, 5, 13, 71, 255, 261 
 Club, The Literary, ix, xix f., xxi f., 
 
 88 f., 96, 217, 228, 248-9, 266 
 Congreve, William, 106, 264 
 Cowley, Abraham, 188, 273 
 Croker, John Wilson, xiii 
 
 D'Arblay, Madame. See Burney, 
 
 Frances 
 Davies, Thomas, xii, 66 f., 77, 105, 
 
 106, 121, 130, 246 
 Debates in Parliament, Johnson's, 21, 
 
 241 
 Definitions by Johnson, 48 f., Ill, 
 
 164, 260, 267-8 
 
 275 
 
276 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Desmoulins, Mrs., 166, 207, 227 
 Dictionary, Johnson's, 17, 28 f., 36, 
 
 37,43, 46 f., 84, 111, 116, 184, 216, 
 
 217, 231 
 Dilly, Edward and Charles, 44, 147 f., 
 
 158 f., 174 f. 
 Dodsley, Fames and Robert, 28, 35, 
 
 258, 268 
 Dominicetti, 107, 265 
 Dryden, John, 96, 106, 153, 168, 188, 
 
 189, 260, 263, 264, 269, 273 
 
 Edwards, Oliver, 175, 195 
 Ellis, Jack, 144, 268 
 Elwin, Whitwell, xvii-xviii 
 Euripides, 12, 215, 255 
 Eutropius, 120, 266 
 
 Farquhar, George, 143, 152, 267, 269 
 Fielding, Henry, 111 f., 147, 209, 
 
 265-6 
 Florus, Lucius, 120, 266 
 Fontenelle, Bernard de, 167, 270 
 Foote, Samuel, 81, 106, 107-8, 118, 
 
 130, 151 f., 162, 252, 264, 268 
 Fox, Charles Edward, 168, 270 
 Frank, Black. See under Barber, 
 
 Francis 
 
 Garrick, David, xx, xxi f., 17, 18, 19, 
 27, 34, 43, 67, 71, 73, 88, 89, 100, 
 105, 114, 121, 130, 133, 143, 151 f., 
 162, 163, 170 f., 175, 184, 195, 
 240-1, 241, 246, 248, 254, 258, 270, 
 273 
 Gentleman's Magazine, 20, 243 
 George III, 60, 98 f., 260, 270 
 Ghosts, 112, 241 f 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, xx, 89, 167, 193, 225 
 Goldsmith, Oliver, xii, xiii, xvii, xix- 
 , xx, xxi f., 74 f., 77, 88, 96, 97, 103, 
 1 105, 111, 113, 116, 118 f., 121 f., 
 ; 168 f., 187, 211, 245, 247-8, 248, 
 
 262, 266, 273 
 Gosse, Edmund, xvi, xvii, 261, 262, 
 
 265, 269, 270, 274 
 Gower, John, 170, 270 
 Graham, Henry Gray, xii 
 Gray, Thomas, x, xvii, 73 f., 190, 246, 
 
 258, 262 
 Grotius, Hugo, 71, 261 
 
 Haiies, Lord, 127, 136 f., 241, 247, 
 
 267 
 Handel, 212, 274 
 
 Hard words, did Johnson use? 37 f., 
 
 87, 118 f., 184, 189, 216, 223 f., 250, 
 
 263 
 Hawkins, Sir John, 32, 39, 56, 76, 88, 
 
 97, 142, 207, 221, 226, 228, 255, 
 
 257, 258, 260 
 Hebrides, ix f., 3, 8, 79, 123 f 
 Hermippus redivivus, 140, 267 
 Hervey, Henry, 19 
 Hesiod, 9, 255 
 Hill, Aaron, 101, 264 
 Hill, George Bierbeck, xxiv f., 255, 
 
 256, 258, 263, 264, 266, 268, 269, 
 
 270, 272, 273, 274 
 Home, John, 155, 269 
 Homer, 12, 69, 171, 259, 267 
 Hoole, John, 145, 202, 226 
 Horace, 12, 34, 116, 167, 255, 257 
 Hume, David, 107, 108, 119, 265 
 Hutton, Lawrence, xvii 
 
 Idler, Johnson's, 38, 52 
 Irene, Johnson's, 34 f., 185 
 
 Johnson, Elizabeth (Johnson's wife), 
 16, 17, 18, 36 f., 39 f., 256 
 
 Johnson, Michael, 7, 10, 222 
 
 Johnson, Nathaniel, 7 
 
 Johnson, Dr. Samuel. Events op 
 His Life: birth, 7; parentage, 7; 
 afflicted with scrofula, 8; touched 
 by Queen Anne, 9; his studies at 
 home, 9; his entrance at Oxford, 
 10; his morbid melancholy, 11 f.; 
 his life at Oxford, 12 f.; compelled 
 to leave college, 15; at Birming- 
 ham, 16; his marriage to Mrs. Por- 
 ter, 16; regard for his wife, 17, 178, 
 251; opens an academy, 17; sets 
 out for London, 19, 240-1; em- 
 ployed by the Gentleman's Maga- 
 zine, 20 f . ; publication of London, 
 21 f.; his Life of Savage, 25 f., 35, 
 40; his indigence, 26, 257; miscel- 
 laneous writings, 27 f . ; issues a 
 Prospectus of a Dictionary, 28 f . ; 
 dedicates Prospectus to Lord Ches- 
 terfield, 29 f.; at work and play, 
 30 f . ; publication of Vanity of 
 Human Wishes, 33 f.; production 
 of Irene, 34 f . ; publication of The 
 Rambler, 35 f.; death of Johnson's 
 wife, 39 f . ; beginning of his friend- 
 ship with Reynolds, 40 f . ; with 
 Langton, 41; with Beauclerk, 41 f.; 
 
INDEX 
 
 277 
 
 controversy with Lord Chester- 
 field, 43 f. ; publication of the Dic- 
 tionary, 46 f.; miscellaneous writ- 
 ings, 49 f. ; proposals for an edition 
 of Shakespeare, 51; publication of 
 The Idler, 52; death of Johnson's 
 mother, 53; publication of Rasse- 
 lo,s, 56; excursion to Oxford, 57 f.; 
 the "great Cham of literature," 58; 
 a pension granted to Johnson, 60 f.. 
 246-7; visits from Boswell, 69 f.; 
 Johnson and Goldsmith, 75 f . ; an 
 excursion to Greenwich, 81 f.; to 
 Harwich, 84 f . ; founding of the 
 Literary Club, 88 f . ; hypochon- 
 dria, 90; made Doctor of Laws, 
 92, 246, 263; introduced to the 
 Thrales, 92 f.; publication of edi- 
 tion of Shakespeare, 95; the in- 
 terview with George III, 98 f . ; 
 Maxwell's recollections, 109 f ; 
 Johnson's American correspond- 
 ence, 115 f.; the trip to the Heb- 
 rides, 123 f.; the controversy with 
 Macpherson, 128 f.; publication of 
 Journey to the Western Islands, 
 130 f.; trip to France, 138; John- 
 son and Boswell on a jaunt, 141 f.; 
 the meeting with Wilkes, 147 f.; 
 inception of The Lives of the Poets, 
 156 f.; the trip to Ashbourne, 16 f.; 
 the meeting with Edwards, 175 f.; 
 publication of The Lives of the 
 Poets, 182 f., 187 f.; Langton's rec- 
 ollections, 184 f.; Johnson ill, 193, 
 197, 200, 205, 206, 207, 208 f., 222, 
 223; death of Thrale, 194 f.; a 
 trip to Oxford, 212 f.; last attend- 
 ance at the Club, 217; endeavors 
 to increase Johnson's pension, 
 217 f.; the last meeting of John- 
 son and Boswell, 220; Johnson at 
 Uttoxeter-market, 222; imitations 
 of Johnson's style, 223 f.; last ill- 
 ness and death of Johnson, 226 f.; 
 burial, 228; summary of character 
 and works, 229 f. 
 Johnson, Dr. Samuel. In General: 
 Johnsoniana, xxiv; fictioD in which 
 Johnson is a character, xxv; let- 
 ters, 24-5, 45-6, 53, 54, 55, 55-6, 
 61-2, 96-7, 115, 116, 123-4, 124, 
 125, 126, 127, 129, 136, 136-7, 
 137-8, 157-8, 160-1, 183-4, 197-8, 
 198-9, 199, 206, 208, 209, 212, 223; 
 
 manner of treating people, 103, 
 105-6, 107, 108, 110, 114, 133, 135, 
 155, 166 f., 174, 175, 180 f., 211 f., 
 214 f., 215, 250, 250-1, 251-2, 253, 
 253^, 254, 264; methods of com- 
 position, 26, 36, 52, 144, 146, 202, 
 256, 258; personal appearance, 70, 
 87, 139, 144, 192, 229 f., 256; per- 
 sonal peculiarities and habits, 7, 
 8, 23-4, 27, 90 f., 107 f., 109, 126, 
 129, 132 f., 133, 135, 136, 143, 144, 
 148, 151, 164, 166 f., 174, 177, 179, 
 180, 182, 187, 193, 202 f., 203, 204, 
 206, 211 f., 213^, 214-5, 216, 217, 
 222, 225 f., 230 f., 249, 252; wit 
 of, 246, 255, 266, 267, 268 
 Johnson, Dr. Samuel. Sayings of: 
 Actors: See under Players: Ac- 
 tress, famous, 253. Advice, giv- 
 ing, 236, 249. Affectation, 187. 
 Allegorical paintings, 235. Am- 
 bition, 235, 237, 239-40, 252. 
 America and Americans, 127, 128, 
 131, 180. Attempting wit, 80-1, 
 252. Attorneys, 110. Authors in 
 private life, 68, 236, 247, 247-8. 
 Big words, 87, 250. Biography, 
 writing, 111, 247, 249. Books, 
 most useful, 249. Boys at school, 
 80. Cast, 164, 204, 274. Care- 
 lessness, 186. Children, 250. 
 Cleanliness, 235, 251. Club, Lit- 
 erary, 248-9. Comedy, 238. Con- 
 tention, spirit of, 250. Conversa- 
 tion, 36, 132, 142, 179, 203, 238, 
 248. Country gentlemen, 200 f. 
 Curiosity, 237. Curious coins, 
 
 203. Dates, 236. Death, 107 f., 
 129 f., 211, 227. Delaying din- 
 ner, 105. Disappointing ourselves, 
 237. Doctors of Law, 263. Drink- 
 ing, 114, 145, 178, 193. Dying 
 rich, 177. Eating, 85, 163-4. 
 
 English traits, 169, 186, 203, 213. 
 Entertaining, Being, 1S6. Excise, 
 48, 260. Explorations, 48. Con- 
 ferring favors, 237. Feeing ser- 
 vants, 85. Fiddle, playing the, 
 246-7. French habits, 138, 169, 
 186. French literature, 169. 
 
 Friends, making new, 187, 222. 
 Gesticulations, 117, 187, 216. 
 Ghosts, 112, 241 f. Gratitude, 237. 
 Greek and Latin, 81, 84. Greek, 
 losing one's, 253. Grub-street, 49, 
 
278 
 
 INDEX 
 
 202, 260. His own efforts, 235. 
 Hopes, 237. Idleness, 84, 185, 237, 
 244. Imitation, 237. Insanity, 
 255. Intellectual labor, 71, 238. 
 Jacobites, 244-5. Judgments upon 
 authors, 250. Kings, 100-101. 
 Knitting, 213. Ladies, 249. 
 
 Laughers, The, 202, 251. Laugh- 
 ing at a man, 181. Learning, 
 185-6, 205, 235. Lexicographer, 
 49, 260. Liberty, 68. London, 
 love of, 82-3, 104, 134, 162, 169, 
 201. Lords among wits, 46, 196. 
 Madness, 70. Making jokes, 118. 
 Making readers suffer, 65. Matri- 
 mony, 110. Medicated baths, 107. 
 Memory, powers of, 237. Mental 
 superiority, 238. Mirth, 251. 
 
 Money, 187, 238. Monsters, tame, 
 253. Motwes, 71. Nature, de- 
 lights of, 82, 104, 169, 252. Nu- 
 merous prose, 171. Oats, 48, 143, 
 201, 260, 267-8. Old age, 170, 
 201-2, 254. One's, own company, 
 238. Our own labors, 236. Par- 
 allel ramifications, 47. Parlia- 
 ment, Being in, 204. Pastern, 
 The, 48, Patriotism, 134. Pa- 
 trons, 45. Passion, 48, 61 f., 261. 
 Physical ailments, 83. Players, 
 prejudice against, 27, 35, 64, 73, 
 106, 163, 270. Pleasures, 238, 245, 
 248. Politics, 204 f. Poverty, 
 237, 238, 238-9. Praise, 238. 
 Preaching, 82, 84. Reading, 146, 
 147, 238, 244. Reasons for opin- 
 ions, 238. Refuting idealism, 187. 
 Renegade, 49. Rhyme and blank 
 verse, 78, 171. Riding three 
 horses, 72. Romantic poetry, 
 161 f. Roughness of manner, 
 211 f., 214 f. Rudeness, 187. 
 Science, 249. Scotland and the 
 Scotch, 67, 77, 82, 104, 104-5, 
 115, 119, 121, 131, 137, 138, 154, 
 157, 201, 246-7, 247, 260, 268. 
 Sea-life, 141, 173 f. Second mar- 
 riages, 100. Silence, 238. Sitting 
 for pictures, 184. Soldiers, 173. 
 Sorrow, sentimental, 251. Studi- 
 ous lives, 236. Studying, 13. 
 Superiority, 68, 245. Taverns, 
 142. Thinking indistinctly, 238. 
 Time, 238. Tory, 48, 252. Trag- 
 edy, 238. Translations, 171. 
 
 Traveling, Rules for, 198 f. Truth, 
 78, 185, 252. Uncommon words, 
 37, 38. Un-idea'd girls and women, 
 43, 253. Wealth, 196. Weather, 
 The, 77 f. Whig, 48, 245, 248, 252. 
 Wishing books longer, 255-6. Wit, 
 238. Women preaching, 84. Writ- 
 ers, labors of, 235-6, 236. Writing 
 doggedly, 36, 236, 258. Writing 
 for money, 144. Young people, 79, 
 238. 
 
 Johnson, Sarah (Johnson's mother), 
 7, 9, 24, 53 f. 
 
 Johnsoniana, xxiv f. 
 
 Jones, Sir William, xx, 89, 121, 248. 
 
 Jonson, Ben, xxi, xxiii 
 
 Journey to the Western Islands of 
 Scotland, Johnson's, 127, 130 f. 
 
 Junius, Francis, 30, 257 
 
 Juvenal, 21, 33, 256 
 
 Karnes, Lord, 68, 261 
 
 Lsertius, Diogenes, 185, 272 
 Langton, Bennet, xix, 35, 41 f., 44, 
 
 88, 96, 114, 121, 127, 136, 145, 
 
 167 f., 181, 184 f., 192, 193, 197 f., 
 
 206, 209, 211, 226, 228, 244, 248, 
 
 272, 273 
 Latin derivatives in Johnson, 37 
 Le Fleming, Sir Michael, 83, 263 
 Levett, Robert, 24, 41, 78, 95, 145, 
 
 198, 201, 207 
 Lawes, George Henry, xvi 
 Lichfield, 7, 130, 141, 143, 196, 222, 
 
 253 
 Lives of the Poets, Johnson's, xi, 102, 
 
 156 f., 182 f., 187 f., 216, 256-7, 
 
 257, 264, 269, 270, 272, 273, 274 
 London, Johnson's, 17, 21 f., 82, 106, 
 
 238-9 
 Lowth, Robert, 100, 264 
 Lusiad, The, 145, 268 
 Lyttelton, Lord, 43, 100, 119, 191, 
 
 241, 245, 273 
 
 Macaulay, Thomas Babington, vii, 
 xiii f., xxxi, 255, 258, 271, 274 
 
 Macpherson, James, 69 f., 127, 128 f., 
 131, 261, 267 
 
 Macrobius, 11, 255 
 
 Mallet, David, 74, 262 
 
 Malone, Edward, xx, 74, 89, 177, 
 217 256 
 
 Mansfield, Lord, 173, 271 
 
INDEX 
 
 279 
 
 Martial, 171, 271 
 
 Milton, John, 190, 235, 259, 272 
 
 Montagu, Mrs. Elizabeth, 191, 193, 
 
 245, 253, 273 
 More, Hannah, 170, 175, 195, 252, 
 
 270, 271 
 
 Nicknames, 122 
 Nugent, Dr., 88, 263 
 
 Oglethorpe, General, 113, 266 
 Orrery, Lord, 180, 189, 271-2 
 Oxford, 10 f., 41, 57 f., 99, 129, 141, 
 157, 212 f. 
 
 Paoli, General Pascal, viii, xii, 217 
 
 Parnell, Thomas, 111, 247 
 
 Parodies, by Johnson, 162, 215; of 
 
 Johnson's style, 223 f. 
 Pearson, John, 71, 261 
 Pembroke College, 10, 13, 176, 178, 
 
 214, 261 
 Pembroke Gate, 14, 177 
 Pension, Johnson's, 60 f., 196, 217 f., 
 
 261, 268 
 Percy, Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Dro- 
 
 niore, xx, 13, 22, 89, 161 f., 170, 180, 
 
 249, 260 
 Petrarch, 9, 255 
 Philips, Ambrose, 27, 257 
 Pindar, 153, 269 
 Piozzi, Airs. See Thrale, Hester 
 
 Lynch 
 Pomfret, John, 182, 272 
 Pope, Alexander, 22 f., 28, 96, 105 f., 
 
 153, 167, 169, 171, 189, 190, 250, 
 
 256, 257, 259, 264, 273 
 Porter, Airs. Elizabeth. See John- 
 son, Elizabeth 
 Porter, Lucy, 8, 16, 53 f., 222, 256 
 Potter, Robert, 170, 271 
 Prayers and Meditations, Johnson's, 
 
 17, 39, 90, 114, 183, 196 f., 250, 
 
 240 
 Pringle, Sir John, 147, 268 
 Prior, Sir James, xii 
 Psalmanazar, George, 180, 202, 272 
 
 Rambler, Johnson's, 17, 35 f., 41, 146, 
 
 185, 195, 258 
 Ramsay, Allan, The elder, 245, 270 
 Ramsay, Allan, The younger, 167 f., 
 
 209, 270 
 Ranelagh, 109, 265 
 Rasselas, Johnson's, xi, 56 f., 116 
 
 Rehearsal, The, 216, 274 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, xi, xix, xxii-iii, 
 23, 24, 26, 36, 40 f„ 60, 66, 88, 91, 
 97, 102, 105, 118, 127, 135, 142, 
 145, 148, 167 f., 177, 181, 193, 194, 
 195 f., 212, 216, 217 f., 248, 252, 
 258-9, 272, 273; Dedication of 
 Boswell's Life of Johnson to, 3 f. 
 
 Richardson, Jonathan, the elder, 22, 
 256 
 
 Richardson, Jonathan, the younger, 
 22, 23, 256 
 
 Richardson, Samuel, 36, 112, 163, 
 180, 184, 258, 265-6 
 
 Robertson, William, 119 f., 224 
 
 Rochefoucault, 41, 259 
 
 Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 117, 266 
 
 Savage, Richard, 25 f., 35, 40, 257 
 Savage, Life of, Johnson's, 25 f., 35, 40 
 Scrub, 152, 169 
 Seccombe, Thomas, xvi 
 Settle, Elkanah, 153-4, 269 
 Seward, Anna, 174, 271 
 Shakespeare, 12, 106, 191, 245, 256, 
 
 262, 273 
 Shakespeare, Edition of, Johnson's, 
 
 27, 51, 59, 95, 114 
 Sheridan, Mrs. Frances, 65 
 Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, xx, 89, 
 
 261, 264 
 Sheridan, Thomas, 60, 64 f , 68, 81, 
 
 121, 190, 201, 261, 269 
 Skinner, Stephen, 30, 257 
 Smart, Christopher, 70 f., 249, 261 
 Smith, Adam, xx, 13, 78, 89 
 Smith, Alexander, xvi 
 Smollett, Tobias, 58, 260, 265 
 Spenser, Edmund, 185, 272, 273 
 Stephani, The, 169, 270 
 Stephen, Leslie, xvi 
 Style, Johnson's, parodies of, 223 f. 
 Swift, Jonathan, 23, 65, 80, 190, 214, 
 
 262 
 
 Temple, Sir William, 171, 271 , 
 Thomson, James, 80, 145, 158, 262 
 Thrale, Henry, 92 f., 104, 117, 138, 
 143, 156, 157, 166, 183, 193, 194 f., 
 197, 246, 252, 263, 273 
 Thrale, Hester Lynch (later Mrs. 
 Piozzi), 76, 93, 104, 117, 136, 138, 
 140 f., 157, 163, 200, 201, 221, 223, 
 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 256, 
 257, 263, 266, 270, 273, 274 
 
280 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Thurlow, Lord, 217 f., 274 
 Tinker, Chauncey Brewster, xviii 
 
 Vanity of Human Wishes, Johnson's 
 
 33 f., 108, 239-40 
 Virgil, 45, 69, 157, 259-60 
 Voltaire, 96, 263, 273 
 
 Waller, Edmund, 189, 273 
 Warburton, William, 46, 100, 264 
 Warton, Joseph, 89, 102, 260, 264 
 
 Warton, Thomas, 89, 185, 260, 264, 
 
 270 
 Watts, Isaac, 160, 182, 269, 272 
 Wesley, John, 167, 270 
 Whitehead, William, 30, 73, 261 
 Wilkes, John, 58 f., 69, 147 f., 260, 268 
 Williams, Anna, 95, 104, 118, 149, 
 
 154, 166, 207 
 Windham, William, 226, 227 
 
 Yalden, Thomas, 182, 272 
 Young, Edward, 167, 179, 270 
 
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